A few days had already passed since the Blackwolf clan and Rohan had come into contact, and since then, the days were all pretty much the same.
While the sun was high in the sky, the clan traveled, seemingly without particular direction as sometimes they would go north, then the next day west, then south. For Rohan, who watched this every day, that didn't make any sense.
They seldom paused in their tracks, and when they did, it was most of the time because of Rohan. More especially his horse, which needed much more water compared to the karags. Coming into this place with a horse was the worst idea he had ever taken.
But even though these pauses were slowing down everyone, none expressed their annoyance about it. Rohan wasn't duped. They didn't show any disdain openly, but it was easy for a son of a count to see through their appearance.
They were maybe tolerant of him, yet Rohan was sure that it was only because the Chief Clan had already given his order.