The Roots of the Ivy and Other Stories of Middle-Earth

They would start before dawn, breaking camp in silence, heading out onto their range before the sun appeared on the horizon. They followed the familiar marks--a distant peak, a clump of willows by the river, a group of three hillocks in a triangle--to cover every inch of the ground, looking for signs of intruders: orcs, Dunlanders, or any other strangers who may stray into the Mark. They rode all day, until the sun disappeared on the opposite horizon. It was tedious work, but none complained. To fail in their task would mean the death of their loved ones.