It was true that at night, pale lights like the varied colours of the rainbow shone and flickered like pale strands of gauze in its depths. But as far as any of the old legends and other claims were concerned . . .

Claims about the Old Road were perhaps more founded. This latter was once a well-paved highway of ancient Morag, and though it had seen centuries of use, and had then suffered centuries more of neglect, its Elven stonework had managed to endure the passing ages like a well worn line of familiarity that bisected the Four Kingdoms.

It originated somewhere far to the northeast, ran on for many leagues until it passed through Belloc's lands, on through the Black Wood, then across a bridge on the White River. It then ran straight across the Narrow Plain for many leagues, coming at last to the River Grey and another bridge. On the other side it passed over a second range of mountains, crossed the Wide Plains through northern Brand, and went on until it met the gate of the elven city of Angorain, chief city of the Kingdom of Normandon, far away to the southwest. Yet compared to the Old Road, even the ancient city of Angorain was a late-comer. Though no gate egressed at the southwest of the city, though a mere, faint line, the Old Road continued on as before into what was now uncharted wilderness.




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