Lord of the rings - J.R.R Tolkien

Death_Eater oi ! Sao ban khong gui bai tiep vay ! Minh doi day ca co day ne !

Chapter 6​

The King of the Golden Hall
They rode on through sunset, and slow dusk, and gathering night. When at last they halted and dismounted, even Aragorn was stiff and weary. Gandalf only allowed them a few hours'' rest. Legolas and Gimli slept and Aragorn lay flat, stretched upon his back; but Gandalf stood, leaning on his staff, gazing into the darkness, east and west. All was silent, and there was no sign or sound of living thing. The night was barred with long clouds, fleeting on a chill wind, when they arose again. Under the cold moon they went on once more, as swift as by the light of day.
Hours passed and still they rode on. Gimli nodded and would have fallen from his seat, if Gandalf had not clutched and shaken him. Hasufel and Arod, weary but proud, followed their tireless leader, a grey shadow before them hardly to he seen. The miles went by. The waxing moon sank into the cloudy West.
A bitter chill came into the air. Slowly in the East the dark faded to a cold grey. Red shafts of light leapt above the black walls of the Emyn Muil far away upon their left. Dawn came clear and bright; a wind swept across their path, rushing through the bent grasses. Suddenly Shadowfax stood still and neighed. Gandalf pointed ahead.
''Look!'' he cried, and they lifted their tired eyes. Before them stood the mountains of the South: white-tipped and streaked with black. The grass-lands rolled against the hills that clustered at their feet, and flowed up into many valleys still dim and dark, untouched by the light of dawn, winding their way into the heart of the great mountains. Immediately before the travellers the widest of these glens opened like a long gulf among the hills. Far inward they glimpsed a tumbled mountain-mass with one tall peak; at the mouth of the vale there stood like sentinel a lonely height. About its feet there flowed, as a thread of silver, the stream that issued from the dale; upon its brow they caught, still far away, a glint in the rising sun, a glimmer of gold. ''Speak, Legolas!'' said Gandalf. ''Tell us what you see there before us!''
Legolas gazed ahead, shading his eyes from the level shafts of the new-risen sun. ''I see a white stream that comes down from the snows,'' he said. ''Where it issues from the shadow of the vale a green hill rises upon the east. A dike and mighty wall and thorny fence encircle it. Within there rise the roofs of houses; and in the midst, set upon a green terrace, there stands aloft a great hall of Men. And it seems to my eyes that it is thatched with gold. The light of it shines far over the land. Golden, too, are the posts of its doors. There men in bright mail stand; but all else within the courts are yet asleep.''
''Edoras those courts are called,'' said Gandalf, ''and Meduseld is that golden hall. There dwells Théoden son of Thengel, King of the Mark of Rohan. We are come with the rising of the day. Now the road lies plain to see before us. But we must ride more warily; for war is abroad, and the Rohirrim, the Horse-lords, do not sleep, even if it seem so from afar. Draw no weapon, speak no haughty word, I counsel you all, until we are come before Théoden''s seat.''
The morning was bright and clear about them, and birds were singing, when the travellers came to the stream. It ran down swiftly into the plain, and beyond the feet of the hills turned across their path in a wide bend, flowing away east to feed the Entwash far off in its reed-choked beds. The land was green: in the wet meads and along the grassy borders of the stream grew many willow-trees. Already in this southern land they were blushing red at their fingertips. Feeling the approach of spring. Over the stream there was a ford between low banks much trampled by the passage of horses. The travellers passed over and came upon a wide rutted track leading towards the uplands.
At the foot of the walled hill the way ran under the shadow of many mounds, high and green. Upon their western sides the grass was white as with a drifted snow: small flowers sprang there like countless stars amid the turf.
''Look!'' said Gandalf. ''How fair are the bright eyes in the grass! Evermind they are called, simbelmynë in this land of Men, for they blossom in all the seasons of the year, and grow where dead men rest. Behold! we are come to the great barrows where the sires of Théoden sleep.'' ''Seven mounds upon the left, and nine upon the right,'' said Aragorn. ''Many long lives of men it is since the golden hall was built.''
''Five hundred times have the red leaves fallen in Mirkwood in my home since then,'' said Legolas, ''and but a little while does that seem to us.''
''But to the Riders of the Mark it seems so long ago,'' said Aragorn, ''that the raising of this house is but a memory of song, and the years before are lost in the mist of time. Now they call this land their home, their own, and their speech is sundered from their northern kin.'' Then he began to chant softly in a slow tongue unknown to the Elf and Dwarf; yet they listened, for there was a strong music in it.
''That, I guess, is the language of the Rohirrim,'' said Legolas; ''for it is like to this land itself; rich and rolling in part, and else hard and stern as the mountains. But I cannot guess what it means, save that it is laden with the sadness of Mortal Men.''
''It runs thus in the Common Speech,'' said Aragorn, ''as near as I can make it.

Where now the horse and the rider? Where is the horn that was blowing?
Where is the helm and the hauberk, and the bright hair flowing?
Where is the hand on the harpstring, and the red fire glowing?
Where is the spring and the harvest and the tall corn growing?
They have passed like rain on the mountain, like a wind in the meadow;
The days have gone down in the West behind the hills into shadow.
Who shall gather the smoke of the dead wood burning,
Or behold the flowing years from the Sea returning?​

Thus spoke a forgotten poet long ago in Rohan, recalling how tall and fair was Eorl the Young, who rode down out of the North; and there were wings upon the feet of his steed, Felaróf, father of horses. So men still sing in the evening.''
With these words the travellers passed the silent mounds. Following the winding way up the green shoulders of the hills, they came at last to the wide wind-swept walls and the gates of Edoras.
There sat many men in bright mail, who sprang at once to their feet and barred the way with spears. ''Stay, strangers here unknown!'' they cried in the tongue of the Riddermark, demanding the names and errand of the strangers. Wonder was in their eyes but little friendliness; and they looked darkly upon Gandalf.
''Well do I understand your speech,'' he answered in the same language; ''yet few strangers do so. Why then do you not speak in the Common Tongue, as is the custom in the West, if you wish to be answered?''
''It is the will of Théoden King that none should enter his gates, save those who know our tongue and are our friends,'' replied one of the guards. ''None are welcome here in days of war but our own folk, and those that come from Mundburg in the land of Gondor. Who are you that come heedless over the plain thus strangely clad, riding horses like to our own horses? Long have we kept guard here, and we have watched you from afar. Never have we seen other riders so strange, nor any horse more proud than is one of these that bear you. He is One of the Mearas, unless our eyes are cheated by some spell. Say, are you not a wizard, some spy from Saruman, or phantoms of his craft? Speak now and be swift!''
''We are no phantoms,'' said Aragorn, ''nor do your eyes cheat you. For indeed these are your own horses that we ride, as you knew well are you asked, I guess. But seldom does thief ride home to the stable. Here are Hasufel and Arod, that Éomer, the Third Marshal of the Mark, lent to us, only two days ago. We bring them back now, even as we promised him. Has not Éomer then returned and given warning of our coming?''
A troubled look came into the guard''s eyes. ''Of Éomer I have naught to say,'' he answered. ''If what you tell me is truth, then doubtless Théoden will have heard of it. Maybe your coming was not wholly unlooked-for. It is but two nights ago that Wormtongue came to us and said that by the will of Théoden no stranger should pass these gates.''
''Wormtongue?'' said Gandalf, looking sharply at the guard. ''Say no more! My errand is not to Wormtongue, but to the Lord of the Mark himself. I am in haste. Will you not go or send to say that we are come?'' His eyes glinted under his deep brows as he bent his gaze upon the man.
''Yes, I will go,'' he answered slowly. ''But what names shall I report? And what shall I say of you? Old and weary you seem now, and yet you are fell and grim beneath, I deem''
''Well do you see and speak,'' said the wizard. ''For I am Gandalf. I have returned. And behold! I too bring back a horse. Here is Shadowfax the Great, whom no other hand can tame. And here beside me is Aragorn son of Arathorn, the heir of Kings, and it is to Mundburg that he goes. Here also are Legolas the Elf and Gimli the Dwarf, our comrades. Go now and say to your master that we are at his gates and would have speech with him, if he will permit us to come into his hall.'' ''Strange names you give indeed! But I will report them as you bid and learn my master''s will,'' said the guard. ''Wait here a little while, and f will bring you such answer as seems good to him. Do not hope too much! These are dark days.'' He went swiftly away, leaving the strangers in the watchful keeping of his comrades. After some time he returned. ''Follow me!'' he said. ''Théoden gives you leave to enter; but any weapon that you bear; be it only a staff, you must leave on the threshold. The doorwardens will keep them.''
The dark gates were swung open. The travellers entered, walking in file behind their guide. They found a broad path, paved with hewn stones, now winding upward, now climbing in short flights of well-laid steps. Many houses built of wood and many dark doors they passed. Beside the way in a stone channel a stream of clear water flowed, sparkling and chattering. At length they came to the crown of the hill. There stood a high platform above a green terrace, at the foot of which a bright spring gushed from a stone carved in the likeness of a horse''s head; beneath was a wide basin from which the water. spilled and fed the falling stream. Up the green terrace went a stair of stone, high and broad, and on either side of the topmost step were stone-hewn sea, There sat other guards, with drawn swords laid upon their knees. Their golden hair was braided on their shoulders the sun was blazoned upon their green shields, their long corslets were burnished bright, and when they rose taller they seemed than mortal men.

...until the heart betrays​

 ​

''There are the doors before you,'' said the guide. ''I must return now to my duty at the gate. Farewell! And may the Lord of the Mark be gracious to you!''
He turned and went swiftly back down the road. The others climbed the long stair under the eyes of the tall watchmen. Silent they stood now above and spoke no word, until Gandalf stepped out upon the paved terrace at the stairs head. Then suddenly with clear voices they spoke a courteous greeting in their own tongue.
Hail, corners from afar!'' they said, and they turned the hilts of their swords towards the travellers in token of peace. Green gems flashed in the sunlight. Then one of the guards stepped forward and spoke in the Common Speech.
''I am the Doorward of Théoden,'' he said. ''Háma is my name. Here I must bid you lay aside your weapons before you enter.''
Then Legolas gave into his hand his silver-hafted knife, his quiver and his bow. ''Keep these well,'' he said, ''for they come from the Golden Wood and the Lady of Lothlórien gave them to me.''
Wonder came into the man''s eyes, and he laid the weapons hastily by the wall, as if he feared to handle them. ''No man will touch them I promise you,'' he said.
Aragorn stood a while hesitating. ''It is not my will,'' he said, ''to put aside my sword or to deliver Andúril to the hand of any other man.''
''It is the will of Théoden,'' said Háma.
''It is not clear to me that the will of Théoden son of Thengel even though he be lord of the Mark, should prevail over the will of Aragorn son of Arathorn, Elendil''s heir of Gondor.''
''This is the house of Théoden, not of Aragorn, even were he King of Gondor in the seat of Denethor,'' said Háma, stepping swiftly before the doors and barring the way. His sword was now in his hand and the point towards the strangers.
''This is idle talk,'' said Gandalf. ''Needless is Théoden''s demand, but it is useless to refuse. A king will have his way in his own hall, be it folly or wisdom.''
''Truly,'' said Aragorn. ''And I would do as the master of the house bade me, were this only a woodman''s cot, if I bore now any sword but Andúril.''
''Whatever its name may be,'' said Háma, ''here you shall lay it, if you would not fight alone against all the men in Edoras.''
''Not alone!'' said Gimli, fingering the blade of his axe, and looking darkly up at the guard, as if he were a young tree that Gimli had a mind to fell. ''Not alone!''
''Come, come!'' said Gandalf. ''We are all friends here. Or should be; for the laughter of Mordor will be our only reward, if we quarrel. My errand is pressing. Here at least is my sword, goodman Háma. Keep it well. Glamdring it is called, for the Elves made it long ago. Now let me pass. Come, Aragorn!''
Slowly Aragorn unbuckled his belt and himself set his sword upright against the wall. ''Here I set it,'' he said; ''but I command you not to touch it, nor to permit any other to lay hand on it. In this elvish heath dwells the Blade that was Broken and has been made again. Telchar first wrought it in the deeps of time. Death shall come to any man that draws Elendil''s sword save Elendil''s heir.''
The guard stepped back and looked with amazement on Aragorn. ''It seems that you are come on the wings of song out of the forgotten days he said. It shall be, lord, as you command.
''Well,'' said Gimli, ''if it has Andúril to keep it company, my axe may stay here, too, without shame''; and he laid it on the floor. ''Now then, if all is as you wish, let us go and speak with your master.''
The guard still hesitated. ''Your staff,'' he said to Gandalf. ''Forgive me, but that too must be left at the doors.''
''Foolishness!'' said Gandalf. ''Prudence is one thing, but discourtesy is another. I am old. If I may not lean on my stick as I go, then I will sit out here, until it pleases Théoden to hobble out himself to speak with me.''
Aragorn laughed. ''Every man has something too dear to trust to another. But would you part an old man from his support? Come, will you not let us enter?''
''The staff in the hand of a wizard may be more than a prop for age'' said Háma. He looked hard at the ash-staff on which Gandalf leaned. ''Yet in doubt a man of worth will trust to his own wisdom. I believe you are friends and folk worthy of honour, who have no evil purpose. You may go in.''
The guards now lifted the heavy bars of the doors and swung them slowly inwards grumbling on their great hinges. The travellers entered. Inside it seemed dark and warm after the clear air upon the hill. The hall was long and wide and filled with shadows and half lights; mighty pillars upheld its lofty roof. But here and there bright sunbeams fell in glimmering shafts from the eastern windows, high under the deep eaves. Through the louver in the roof, above the thin wisps of issuing smoke, the sky showed pale and blue. As their eyes changed, the travellers perceived that the floor was paved with stones of many hues; branching runes and strange devices intertwined beneath their feet. They saw now that the pillars were richly carved, gleaming dully with gold and half-seen colours. Many woven cloths were hung upon the walls, and over their wide spaces marched figures of ancient legend, some dim with years, some darkling in the shade. But upon one form the sunlight fell: a young man upon a white horse. He was blowing a great horn, and his yellow hair was flying in the wind. The horse''s head was lifted, and its nostrils were wide and red as it neighed, smelling battle afar. Foaming water, green and white, rushed and curled about its knees.
''Behold Eorl the Young!'' said Aragorn. ''Thus he rode out of the North to the Battle of the Field of Celebrant.''
Now the four companions went forward, past the clear wood-fire burning upon the long hearth in the midst of the hall. Then they halted. At the far end of the house, beyond the hearth and facing north towards the doors, was a dais with three steps; and in the middle of the dais was a great gilded chair. Upon it sat a man so bent with age that he seemed almost a dwarf; but his white hair was long and thick and fell in great braids from beneath a thin golden circle set upon his brow. In the centre upon his forehead shone a single white diamond. His beard was laid like snow upon his knees; but his eyes still burned with a bright light, glinting as he gazed at the strangers. Behind his chair stood a woman clad in white. At his feet upon the steps sat a wizened figure of a man, with a pale wise face and heavy-lidded eyes.
There was a silence. The old man did not move in his chair. At length Gandalf spoke. ''Hail, Théoden son of Thengel! I have returned. For behold! the storm comes, and now all friends should gather together, lest each singly be destroyed.''
Slowly the old man rose to his feet, leaning heavily upon a short black staff with a handle of white bone; and now the strangers saw that, bent though he was, he was still tall and must in youth have been high and proud indeed.
''I greet you,'' he said, ''and maybe you look for welcome. But truth to tell your welcome is doubtful here, Master Gandalf. You have ever been a herald of woe. Troubles follow you like crows, and ever the oftener the worse. I will not deceive you: when I heard that Shadowfax had come back riderless, I rejoiced at the return of the horse, but still more at the lack of the rider; and when Éomer brought the tidings that you had gone at last to your long home, I did not mourn. But news from afar is seldom sooth. Here you come again! And with you come evils worse than before, as might be expected. Why should I welcome you, Gandalf Stormcrow? Tell me that.'' Slowly he sat down again in his chair.
''You speak justly, lord,'' said the pale man sitting upon the steps of the dais. ''It is not yet five days since the bitter tidings came that Théodred your son was slain upon the West Marches: your right hand, Second Marshal Of the Mark. In Éomer there is little trust. Few men would be left to guard your walls, if he had been allowed to rule. And even now we learn from Gondor that the Dark Lord is stirring in the East. Such is the hour in which this wanderer chooses to return. Why indeed should we welcome you, Master Stormcrow? Láthspell I name you, Ill-news; and ill news is an ill guest they say.'' He laughed grimly, as he lifted his heavy lids for a moment and gazed on the strangers with dark eyes.
''You are held wise, my friend Wormtongue, and are doubtless a great support to your master,'' answered Gandalf in a soft voice. ''Yet in two ways may a man come with evil tidings. lie may be a worker of evil; or he may be such as leaves well alone, and comes only to bring aid in time of need.''
''That is so,'' said Wormtongue; ''but there is a third kind: pickers of bones, meddlers in other men''s sorrows, carrion-fowl that grow fat on war. What aid have you ever brought, Stormcrow? And what aid do you bring now? It was aid from us that you sought last time that you were here. Then my lord bade you Choose any horse that you would and be gone; and to the wonder of all you took Shadowfax in your insolence. My lord was sorely grieved; yet to some it seemed that to speed you from the land the price was not too great. I guess that it is likely to turn out the same once more: you will seek aid rather than render it. Do you bring men? Do you bring horses, swords, spears? That I would call aid; that is our present need. But who are these that follow at your tail? Three ragged wanderers in grey, and you yourself the most beggar-like of the four!''
''The courtesy of your hall is somewhat lessened of late, Théoden son of Thengel,'' said Gandalf. ''Has not the messenger from your gate reported the names of my companions? Seldom has any lord of Rohan received three such guests. Weapons they have laid at your doors that are worth many a mortal man, even the mightiest. Grey is their raiment, for the Elves clad them, and thus they have passed through the shadow of great perils to your hall.''
''Then it is true, as Éomer reported, that you are in league with the Sorceress of the Golden Wood?'' said Wormtongue. ''It is not to be wondered at: webs of deceit were ever woven in Dwimordene.''
Gimli strode a pace forward, but felt suddenly the hand of Gandalf clutch him by the shoulder, and he halted, standing stiff as stone.

In Dwimordene, in Lórien
Seldom have walked the feet of Men,
Few mortal eyes have seen the light
That lies there ever, long and bright.
Galadriel! Galadriel!
Clear is the water of your well;
White is the star in your white hand;
Unmarred, unstained is leaf and land
In Dwimordene, in Lórien
More fair than thoughts of Mortal Men.​

Thus Gandalf softly sang, and then suddenly he changed. Casting his tattered cloak aside, he stood up and leaned no longer on his staff; and he spoke in a clear cold voice. ''The wise speak only of what they know, Gríma son of Gálmód. A witless worm have you become. Therefore be silent, and keep your forked tongue behind your teeth. I have not passed through fire and death to bandy crooked words with a serving-man till the lightning falls.'' He raised his staff. There was a roll of thunder. The sunlight was blotted out from the eastern windows; the whole hall became suddenly dark as night. The fire faded *****llen embers. Only Gandalf could be seen, standing white and tall before the blackened hearth.
In the gloom they heard the hiss of Wormtongue''s voice: ''Did I not counsel you, lord, to forbid his staff? That fool, Háma, has betrayed us!'' There was a flash as if lightning had cloven the roof. Then all was silent. Wormtongue sprawled on his face.
''Now Théoden son of Thengel, will you hearken to me?'' said Gandalf. ''Do you ask for help?'' He lifted his staff and pointed to a high window. There the darkness seemed to clear, and through the opening could be seen, high and far, a patch of shining sky. ''Not all is dark. Take courage, Lord of the Mark; for better help you will not find. No counsel have I to give to those that despair. Yet counsel I could give, and words I could speak to you. Will you hear them? They are not for all ears. I bid you come out before your doors and look abroad. Too long have you sat in shadows and trusted to twisted tales and crooked promptings.''
Slowly Théoden left his chair. A faint light grew in the hall again. The woman hastened to the king''s side, taking his arm, and with faltering steps the old man came down from the dais and paced softly through the hall. Wormtongue remained lying on the floor. They came to the doors and Gandalf knocked.
''Open!'' he cried. ''The Lord of the Mark comes forth!''
The doors rolled back and a keen air came whistling in. A wind was blowing on the hill. ''Send your guards down to the stairs foot,'' said Gandalf. ''And you, lady, leave him a while with me. I will care for him.''
''Go, Éowyn sister-daughter!'' said the old king. ''The time for fear is past.''

...until the heart betrays​

 ​

The woman turned and went slowly into the house. As she passed the doors she turned and looked back. Grave and thoughtful was her glance, as she looked on the king with cool pity in her eyes. Very fair was her face, and her long hair was like a river of gold. Slender and tall she was in her white robe girt with silver; but strong she seemed and stern as steel, a daughter of kings. Thus Aragorn for the first time in the full light of day beheld Éowyn, Lady of Rohan, and thought her fair, fair and cold, like a morning of pale spring that is not yet come to womanhood. And she now was suddenly aware of him: tall heir of kings, wise with many winters, greycloaked. Hiding a power that yet she felt. For a moment still as stone she stood, then turning swiftly she was gone.
''Now, lord,'' said Gandalf, ''look out upon your land! Breathe the free air again!''
From the porch upon the top of the high terrace they could see beyond the stream the green fields of Rohan fading into distant grey. Curtains of wind-blown rain were slanting down. The sky above and to the west was still dark with thunder, and lightning far away flickered among the tops of hidden hills. But the wind had shifted to the north, and already the storm that had come out of the East was receding, rolling away southward to the sea. Suddenly through a rent in the clouds behind them a shaft of sun stabbed down. The falling showers gleamed like silver, and far away the river glittered like a shimmering glass.
''It is not so dark here,'' said Théoden.
''No,'' said Gandalf. ''Nor does age lie so heavily on your shoulders as some would have you think. Cast aside your prop!''
From the king''s hand the black staff fell clattering on the stones. He drew himself up, slowly, as a man that is stiff from long bending over some dull toil. Now tall and straight he stood, and his eyes were blue as he looked into the opening sky.
''Dark have been my dreams of late,'' he said, ''but I feel as one new-awakened. I would now that you had come before, Gandalf. For I fear that already you have come too late, only to see the last days of my house. Not long now shall stand the high hall which Brego son of Eorl built. Fire shall devour the high seat. What is to be done?''
''Much,'' said Gandalf. ''But first send for Éomer. Do I not guess rightly that you hold him prisoner, by the counsel of Gríma, of him that all save you name the Wormtongue?''
''It is true,'' said Théoden. ''He had rebelled against my commands, and threatened death to Gríma in my hall.''
''A man may love you and yet not love Wormtongue or his counsels'' said Gandalf.
''That may be. I will do as you ask. Call Háma to me. Since he proved untrusty as a doorward, let him become an errand-runner. The guilty shall bring the guilty to judgement,'' said Théoden, and his voice was grim, yet he looked at Gandalf and smiled and as he did so many lines of care were smoothed away and did not return.
When Háma had been summoned and had gone, Gandalf led Théoden to a stone seat, and then sat himself before the king upon the topmost stair. Aragorn and his companions stood nearby.
''There is no time to tell all that you should hear,'' said Gandalf. ''Yet if my hope is not cheated, a time will come ere long when I can speak more fully. Behold! you are come into a peril greater even than the wit of Wormtongue could weave into your dreams. But see! you dream no longer. You live. Gondor and Rohan do not stand alone. The enemy is strong beyond our reckoning, yet we have a hope at which he has not guessed.''
Quickly now Gandalf spoke. His voice was low and secret, and none save the king heard what he said. But ever as he spoke the light shone brighter in Théoden''s eye, and at the last he rose from his seat to his full height, and Gandalf beside him, and together they looked out from the high place towards the East.
''Verily,'' said Gandalf, now in a loud voice, keen and clear, ''that way lies our hope, where sits our greatest fear. Doom hangs still on a thread. Yet hope there is still, if we can but stand unconquered for a little while.''
The others too now turned their eyes eastward. Over the sundering leagues of land, far away they gazed to the edge of sight, and hope and fear bore their thoughts still on, beyond dark mountains to the Land of Shadow. Where now was the Ring-bearer? How thin indeed was the thread upon which doom still hung! It seemed to Legolas, as he strained his farseeing eyes, that he caught a glint of white: far away perchance the sun twinkled on a pinnacle of the Tower of Guard. And further still, endlessly remote and yet a present threat, there was a tiny tongue of flame.
Slowly Théoden sat down again, as if weariness still struggled to master him against the will of Gandalf. He turned and looked at his great house. ''Alas!'' he said, ''that these evil days should be mine, and should come in my old age instead of that peace which I have earned. Alas for Boromir the brave! The young perish and the old linger, withering.'' He clutched his knees with his wrinkled hands.
''Your fingers would remember their old strength better, if they grasped a sword-hilt,'' said Gandalf.
Théoden rose and put his hand to his side; but no sword hung at his belt. ''Where has Gríma stowed it?'' he muttered under his breath.
''Take this, dear lord!'' said a clear voice. ''It was ever at your service.'' Two men had come softly up the stair and stood now a few steps from the top. Éomer was there. No helm was on his head, no mail was on his breast, but in his hand he held a drawn sword; and as he knelt he offered the hilt to his master.
''How comes this?'' said Théoden sternly. He turned towards Éomer and the men looked in wonder at him, standing now proud and erect. Where was the old man whom they had left crouching in his chair or leaning on his stick?
''It is my doing, lord,'' said Háma, trembling. I understood that Éomer was to be set free. Such joy was in my heart that maybe I have erred. Yet, since he was free again, and he a Marshal of the Mark, I brought him his sword as he bade me.''
''To lay at your feet, my lord,'' said Éomer.
For a moment of silence Théoden stood looking down at Éomer as he knelt still before him. Neither moved.
''Will you not take the sword?'' said Gandalf.
Slowly Théoden stretched forth his hand. As his fingers took the hilt, it seemed to the watchers that firmness and strength returned to his thin arm. Suddenly he lifted the blade and swung it shimmering and whistling in the air. Then he gave a great cry. His voice rang clear as he chanted in the tongue of Rohan a call to arms.
Híc sao gửi cả chục lần không được vậy? Nốt lần cuối xem , có gì tối mai tớ gửi tiếp sau, hôm nay TTVN làm sao ý

...until the heart betrays​

 ​

Arise now, arise, Riders of Théoden!
Dire deeds awake, dark is it eastward.
Let horse be bridled, horn be sounded!
Forth Eorlingas!​

The guards, thinking that they were summoned, sprang up the stair. They looked at their lord in amazement, and then as one man they drew their swords and laid them at his feet. ''Command us!'' they said.
''Westu Théoden hál!'' cried Éomer. ''It is a joy to us to see you return into your own. Never again shall it be said, Gandalf, that you come only with grief!''
''Take back your sword, Éomer, sister-son!'' said the king. ''Go, Háma, and seek my own sword! Gríma has it in his keeping. Bring him to me also. Now, Gandalf, you said that you had counsel to give, if I would hear it. What is your counsel?''
''You have yourself already taken it,'' answered Gandalf. ''To put your trust in Éomer, rather than in a man of crooked mind. To cast aside regret and fear. To do the deed at hand. Every man that can ride should be sent west at once, as Éomer counselled you: we must first destroy the threat of Saruman, while we have time. If we fail, we fall. If we succeed ?" then we will face the next task. Meanwhile your people that are left, the women and the children and the old, should stay to the refuges that you have in the mountains. Were they not prepared against just such an evil day as this? Let them take provision, but delay not, nor burden themselves with treasures, great or small. It is their lives that are at stake.''
''This counsel seems good to me now,'' said Théoden. ''Let all my folk get ready! But you my guests-truly you said, Gandalf, that the courtesy of my hall is lessened. You have ridden through the night, and the morning wears away. You have had neither sleep nor food. A guest-house shall be made ready: there you shall sleep, when you have eaten.''
''Nay, lord,'' said Aragorn. ''There is no rest yet for the weary. The men of Rohan must ride forth today, and we will ride with them, axe, sword, and bow. We did not bring them to rest against your wall, Lord of the Mark. And I promised Éomer that my sword and his should be drawn together.''
''Now indeed there is hope of victory!'' said Éomer.
''Hope, yes,'' said Gandalf. ''But Isengard is strong. And other perils draw ever nearer. Do not delay, Théoden, when we are gone. Lead your people swiftly to the Hold of Dunharrow in the hills!''
''Nay, Gandalf!'' said the king. ''You do not know your own skill in healing. It shall not be so. I myself will go to war, to fall in the front of the battle, if it must be. Thus shall I sleep better.''
''Then even the defeat of Rohan will be glorious in song,'' said Aragorn. The armed men that stood near clashed their weapons, crying: ''The Lord of the Mark will ride! Forth Eorlingas!''
''But your people must not be both unarmed and shepherdless'' said Gandalf. ''Who shall guide them and govern them in your place?''
''I will take thought for that ere I go,'' answered Théoden. ''Here comes my counsellor.''
At that moment Háma came again from the hall. Behind him cringing between two other men, came Gríma the Wormtongue. His face was very white. His eyes blinked in the sunlight. Háma knelt and presented to Théoden a long sword in a scabbard clasped with gold and set with green gems. ''Here, lord, is Herugrim, your ancient blade,'' he said. ''It was found in his chest. Loth was he to render up the keys. Many other things are there which men have missed.''
''You lie,'' said Wormtongue. ''And this sword your master himself gave into my keeping.''
''And he now requires it of you again,'' said Théoden. ''Does that displease you?''
''Assuredly not. lord,'' said Wormtongue. ''I care for you and yours as best I may. But do not weary yourself, or tax too heavily your strength. Let others deal with these irksome guests. Your meat is about to be set on the board. Will you not go to it?''
''I will,'' said Théoden. ''And let food for my guests be set on the board beside me. The host rides today. Send the heralds forth! Let them summon all who dwell nigh! Every man and strong lad able to bear arms, all who have horses, let them be ready in the saddle at the gate ere the second hour from noon!''
''Dear lord!'' cried Wormtongue. ''It is as I feared. This wizard has bewitched you. Are none to be left to defend the Golden Hall of your fathers, and all your treasure? None to guard the Lord of the Mark?''
''If this is bewitchment,'' said Théoden, ''it seems to me more wholesome than your whisperings. Your leechcraft ere long would have had me walking on all fours like a beast. No, not one shall be left, not even Gríma. Gríma shall ride too. Go! You have yet time to clean the rust from your sword.''
''Mercy, lord!'' whined Wormtongue, grovelling on the ground. ''Have pity on one worn out in your service. Send me not from your side! I at least will stand by you when all others have gone. Do not send your faithful Gríma away!''
''You have my pity,'' said Théoden. ''And I do not send you from my side. I go myself to war with my men. I bid you come with me and prove your faith.''
Wormtongue looked from face to face. In his eyes was the hunted look of a beast seeking some gap in the ring of his enemies. He licked his lips with a long pale tongue. ''Such a resolve might be expected from a lord of the House of Eorl, old though he be,'' he said. ''But those who truly love him would spare his failing years. Yet I see that I come too late. Others, whom the death of my lord would perhaps grieve less, have already persuaded him. If I cannot undo their work, hear me at least in this, lord! One who knows your mind and honours your commands should be left in Edoras. Appoint a faithful steward. Let your counsellor Gríma keep all things till your return-and I pray that we may see it, though no wise man will deem it hopeful.''
Éomer laughed. ''And if that plea does not excuse you from war, most noble Wormtongue,'' he said, what office of less honour would you accept? To carry a sack of meal up into the mountains-if any man would trust you with it?''
''Nay, Éomer, you do not fully understand the mind of Master Wormtongue,'' said Gandalf, turning his piercing glance upon him. ''He is bold and cunning. Even now he plays a game with peril and wins a throw. Hours of my precious time he has wasted already. ''Down snake!'' he said suddenly in a terrible voice. ''Down on your belly! How long is it since Saruman bought you? What was the promised price? When all the men were dead, you were to pick your share of the treasure, and take the woman you desire? Too long have you watched her under your eyelids and haunted her steps.''
Éomer grasped his sword. ''That I knew already,'' he muttered. ''For that reason I would have slain him before, forgetting the law of the hall. But there are other reasons.'' He stepped forward, but Gandalf stayed him with his hand.
''Éowyn is safe now,'' he said. ''But you, Wormtongue, you have done what you could for your true master. Some reward you have earned at least. Yet Saruman is apt to overlook his bargains. I should advise you to go quickly and remind him, lest he forget your faithful service.''
''You lie,'' said Wormtongue.
''That word comes too oft and easy from your lips,'' said Gandalf. ''I do not lie. See, Théoden, here is a snake! With safety you cannot take it with you, nor can you leave it behind. To slay it would be just. But it was not always as it now is. Once it was a man, and did you service in its fashion. Give him a horse and let him go at once, wherever he chooses. By his choice you shall judge him.''
''Do you hear this, Wormtongue?'' said Théoden. ''This is your choice: to ride with me to war, and let us see in battle whether you are true; or to go now, whither you will. But then, if ever we meet again, I shall not be merciful.''
Slowly Wormtongue rose. He looked at them with half-closed eyes. Last of all he scanned Théoden''s face and opened his mouth as if to speak. Then suddenly he drew himself up. His hands worked. His eyes glittered. Such malice was in them that men stepped back from him. He bared his teeth; and then with a hissing breath he spat before the king''s feet, and darting to one side, he fled down the stair.
''After him!'' said Théoden. ''See that he does no harm to any, but do not hurt him or hinder him. Give him a horse, if he wishes it.''
''And if any will bear him,'' said Éomer.
One of the guards ran down the stair. Another went to the well at the foot of the terrace and in his helm drew water. With it he washed clean the stones that Wormtongue had defiled.
''Now my guests, come!'' said Théoden. ''Come and take such refreshment as haste allows.''
They passed back into the great house. Already they heard below them in the town the heralds crying and the war-horns blowing. For the king was to ride forth as soon as the men of the town and those dwelling near could be armed and assembled.
At the king''s board sat Éomer and the four guests, and there also waiting upon the king was the lady Éowyn. They ate and drank swiftly. The others were silent while Théoden questioned Gandalf concerning Saruman.
''How far back his treachery goes, who can guess?'' said Gandalf. ''He was not always evil. Once I do not doubt that he was the friend of Rohan; and even when his heart grew colder, he found you useful still. But for long now he has plotted your ruin, wearing the mask of Friendship, until he was ready. In those years Wormtongue''s task was easy, and all that you did was swiftly known in Isengard; for your land was open, and strangers came and went. And ever Wormtongue''s whispering was in your ears, poisoning your thought, chilling your heart, weakening your limbs, while others watched and could do nothing, for your will was in his keeping.

...until the heart betrays​

 ​

''But when I escaped and warned you, then the mask was torn, for those who would see. After that Wormtongue played dangerously, always seeking to delay you, to prevent your full strength being gathered. He was crafty: dulling men''s wariness, or working on their fears, as served the occasion. Do you not remember how eagerly he urged that no man should be spared on a wildgoose chase northward, when the immediate peril was westward? He persuaded you to forbid Éomer to pursue the raiding Orcs. If Éomer had not defied Wormtongue''s voice speaking with your mouth, those Orcs would have reached Isengard by now, bearing a great prize. Not indeed that prize which Saruman desires above all else, but at the least two members of my Company, sharers of a secret hope, of which even to you, lord, I cannot yet speak openly. Dare you think of what they might now be suffering, or what Saruman might now have learned to our destruction?''
''I owe much to Éomer,'' said Théoden. ''Faithful heart may have forward tongue.'' ''Say also,'' said Gandalf, ''that to crooked eyes truth may wear a wry face.''
''Indeed my eyes were almost blind,'' said Théoden. ''Most of all I owe to you, my guest. Once again you have come in time. I would give you a gift ere we go, at your own choosing. You have only to name aught that is mine. I reserve now only my sword!''
''Whether I came in time or not is yet to be seen,'' said Gandalf. ''But as for your gift, lord, I will choose one that will fit my need: swift and sure. Give me Shadowfax! He was only lent before, if loan we may call it. But now shall ride him into great hazard, setting silver against black: I would not risk anything that is not my own. And already there is a bond of love between us.''
''You choose well,'' said Théoden; ''and I give him now gladly. Yet it is a great gift. There is none like to Shadowfax. In him one of the mighty steeds of old has returned. None such shall return again. And to you my other guests I will offer such things as may be found in my armoury. Swords you do not need, but there are helms and coats of mail of cunning work, gifts to my fathers out of Gondor. Choose from these ere we go, and may they serve you well!''
Now men came bearing raiment of war from the king''s hoard and they arrayed Aragorn and Legolas in shining mail. Helms too they chose, and round shields: their bosses were overlaid with gold and set with gems, green and red and white. Gandalf took no armour; and Gimli needed no coat of rings, even if one had been found to match his stature, for there was no hauberk in the hoards of Edoras of better make than his short corslet forged beneath the Mountain in the North. But he chose a cap of iron and leather that fitted well upon his round head; and a small shield he also took. It bore the running horse, white upon green, that was the emblem of the House of Eorl.
''May it keep you well!'' said Théoden. ''It was made for me in Thengel''s day, while still I was a boy.''
Gimli bowed. ''I am proud, Lord of the Mark, to bear your device,'' he said. ''Indeed sooner would I bear a horse than be borne by one. I love my feet better. But, maybe, I shall come yet where I can stand and fight.''
''It may well be so,'' said Théoden.
The king now rose, and at once Éowyn came forward bearing wine. ''Ferthu Théoden hál!'' she said. ''Receive now this cup and drink in happy hour. Health be with thee at thy going and coming!''
Théoden drank from the cup, and she then proffered it to the guests. As she stood before Aragorn she paused suddenly and looked upon him, and her eyes were shining. And he looked down upon her fair face and smiled; but as he took the cup, his hand met hers, and he knew that she trembled at the touch. ''Hail Aragorn son of Arathorn!'' she said. ''Hail Lady of Rohan!'' he answered, but his face now was troubled and he did not smile.
When they had all drunk, the king went down the hall to the doors. There the guards awaited him, and heralds stood, and all the lords and chiefs were gathered together that remained in Edoras or dwelt nearby.
''Behold! I go forth, and it seems like to be my last riding,'' said Théoden. ''I have no child. Théodred my son is slain. I name Éomer my sister-son to be my heir. If neither of us return, then choose a new lord as you will. But to some one I must now entrust my people that I leave behind, to rule them in my place. Which of you will stay?''
No man spoke.
''Is there none whom you would name? In whom do my people trust?''
''In the House of Eorl,'' answered Háma.
''But Éomer I cannot spare, nor would he stay,'' said the king; ''and he is the last of that House.''
''I said not Éomer,'' answered Háma. ''And he is not the last. There is Éowyn, daughter of Éomund, his sister. She is fearless and high-hearted. All love her. Let her be as lord to the Eorlingas, while we are gone.''
''It shall be so,'' said Théoden. ''Let the heralds announce to the folk that the Lady Éowyn will lead them!''
Then the king sat upon a seat before his doors, and Éowyn knelt before him and received from him a sword and a fair corslet. ''Farewell sister-daughter!'' he said. ''Dark is the hour, yet maybe we shall return to the Golden Hall. But in Dunharrow the people may long defend themselves, and if the battle go ill, thither will come all who escape.'' ''Speak not so!'' she answered. ''A year shall I endure for every day that passes until your return.'' But as she spoke her eyes went to Aragorn who stood nearby.
''The king shall come again,'' he said. ''Fear not! Not West but East does our doom await us.''
The king now went down the stair with Gandalf beside him. The others followed. Aragorn looked back as they passed towards the gate. Alone Éowyn stood before the doors of the house at the stair''s head; the sword was set upright before her, and her hands were laid upon the hilt. She was clad now in mail and shone like silver in the sun.
Gimli walked with Legolas. his axe on his shoulder. ''Well, at last we set off!'' he said. ''Men need many words before deeds. My axe is restless in my hands. Though I doubt not that these Rohirrim are fell-handed when they come to it. Nonetheless this is not the warfare that suits me. How shall I come to the battle? I wish I could walk and not bump like a sack at Gandalf''s saddlebow.''
''A safer seat than many, I guess,'' said Legolas. ''Yet doubtless Gandalf will gladly put you down on your feet when blows begin; or Shadowfax himself. An axe is no weapon for a rider.''
''And a Dwarf is no horseman. It is orc-necks I would hew, not shave the scalps of Men,'' said Gimli, patting the haft of his axe.
At the gate they found a great host of men, old and young, all ready in the saddle. More than a thousand were there mustered. Their spears were like a springing wood. Loudly and joyously they shouted as Théoden came forth. Some held in readiness the king''s horse, Snowmane, and others held the horses of Aragorn and Legolas. Gimli stood ill at ease, frowning, but Éomer came up to him, leading his horse.
''Hail, Gimli Glóin''s son!'' he cried. ''I have not had time to learn gentle speech under your rod, as you promised. But shall we not put aside our quarrel? At least I will speak no evil again of the Lady of the Wood.''
''I will forget my wrath for a while, Éomer son of Éomund,'' said Gimli; ''but if ever you chance to see the Lady Galadriel with your eyes, then you shall acknowledge her the fairest of ladies, or our friendship will end.'' ''So be it!'' said Éomer. ''But until that time pardon me, and in token of pardon ride with me, I beg. Gandalf will be at the head with the Lord of the Mark; but Firefoot, my horse, will bear us both, if you will.''
''I thank you indeed,'' said Gimli greatly pleased. ''I will gladly go with you, if Legolas, my comrade, may ride beside us.''
''It shall he so,'' said Éomer. ''Legolas upon my left, and Aragorn upon my right, and none will dare to stand before us!''
''Where is Shadowfax?'' said Gandalf.
''Running wild over the grass,'' they answered. ''He will let no man handle him. There he goes, away down by the ford, like a shadow among the willows.''
Gandalf whistled and called aloud the horse''s name, and far away he tossed his head and neighed, and turning sped towards the host like an arrow.
''Were the breath of the West Wind to take a body visible, even so would it appear,'' said Éomer, as the great horse ran up, until he stood before the wizard.
''The gift seems already to be given,'' said Théoden. ''But hearken all! Here now I name my guest, Gandalf Greyhame, wisest of counsellors; most welcome of wanderers, a lord of the Mark, a chieftain of the Eorlingas while our kin shall last; and I give to him Shadowfax, prince of horses.''
''I thank you, Théoden King,'' said Gandalf. Then suddenly he threw back his grey cloak, and cast aside his hat, and leaped to horseback. He wore no helm nor mail. His snowy hair flew free in the wind, his white robes shone dazzling in the sun.
''Behold the White Rider!'' cried Aragorn, and all took up the words.
''Our King and the White Rider!'' they shouted. ''Forth Eorlingas!''
The trumpets sounded. The horses reared and neighed. Spear clashed on shield. Then the king raised his hand, and with a rush like the sudden onset of a great wind the last host of Rohan rode thundering into the West. Far over the plain Éowyn saw the glitter of their spears, as she stood still, alone before the doors of the silent house.
Hẹn ngày mai TTVN tử tế hơn tớ sẽ post hẳn cả trăm trang

...until the heart betrays​

 ​

Chapter 7​

Helm''s Deep​

The sun was already westering as they rode from Edoras, and the light of it was in their eyes, turning all the rolling fields of Rohan to a golden haze. There was a beaten way, north-westward along the foot-hills of the White Mountains, and this they followed, up and down in a green country, crossing small swift streams by many fords. Far ahead and to their right the Misty Mountains loomed; ever darker and taller they grew as the miles went by. The sun went slowly down before them. Evening came behind.
The host rode on. Need drove them. Fearing to come too late, they rode with all the speed they could, pausing seldom. Swift and enduring were the steeds of Rohan, but there were many leagues to go. Forty leagues and more it was, as a bird flies, from Edoras to the fords of the Isen, where they hoped to find the king''s men that held back the hosts of Saruman.
Night closed about them. At last they halted to make their camp. They had ridden for some five hours and were far out upon the western plain, yet more than half their journey lay still before them. In a great circle, under the starry sky and the waxing moon, they now made their bivouac. They lit no fires, for they were uncertain of events; but they set a ring of mounted guards about them, and scouts rode out far ahead, passing like shadows in the folds of the land. The slow night passed without tidings or alarm. At dawn the horns sounded, and within an hour they took the road again.
There were no clouds overhead yet, but a heaviness was in the air; it was hot for the season of the year. The rising sun was hazy, and behind it, following it slowly up the sky, there was a growing darkness, as of a great storm moving out of the East. And away in the North-west there seemed to be another darkness brooding about the feet of the Misty Mountains, a shadow that crept down slowly from the Wizard''s Vale.
Gandalf dropped back to where Legolas rode beside Éomer. ''You have the keen eyes of your fair kindred, Legolas,'' he said; ''and they can tell a sparrow from a finch a league off. Tell me, can you sec anything away yonder towards Isengard?''
''Many miles lie between,'' said Legolas, gazing thither and shading his eyes with his long hand. ''I can see a darkness. There are shapes moving in it, great shapes far away upon the bank of the river; but what they are I cannot tell. It is not mist or cloud that defeats my eyes: there is a veiling shadow that some power lays upon the land, and it marches slowly down stream. It is as if the twilight under endless trees were flowing downwards from the hills.''
''And behind us comes a very storm of Mordor,'' said Gandalf. ''It will be a black night.''
As the second day of their riding drew on, the heaviness in the air increased. In the afternoon the dark clouds began to overtake them: a sombre canopy with great billowing edges flecked with dazzling light. The sun went down, blood-red in a smoking haze. The spears of the Riders were tipped with fire as the last shafts of light kindled the steep faces of the peaks of Thrihyrne: now very near they stood on the northernmost arm of the White Mountains, three jagged horns staring at the sunset. In the last red glow men in the vanguard saw a black speck, a horseman riding back towards them. They halted awaiting him.
He came, a weary man with dinted helm and cloven shield. Slowly he climbed from his horse and stood there a while gasping. At length he spoke. ''Is Éomer here?'' he asked. ''You come at last, but too late, and with too little strength. Things have gone evilly since Théodred fell. We were driven back yesterday over the Isen with great loss; many perished at the crossing. Then at night fresh forces came over the river against our camp. All Isengard must be emptied; and Saruman has armed the wild hillmen and herd-folk of Dunland beyond the rivers, and these also he loosed upon us. We were overmastered. The shield-wall was broken. Erkenbrand of Westfold has drawn off those men he could gather towards his fastness in Helm''s Deep. The rest are scattered.
''Where is Éomer? Tell him there is no hope ahead. He should return to Edoras before the wolves of Isengard come there.'' Théoden had sat silent, hidden from the man''s sight behind his guards; now he urged his horse forward. ''Come, stand before me, Ceorl!'' he said. ''I am here. The last host of the Eorlingas has ridden forth. It will not return without battle.''
The man''s face lightened with joy and wonder. He drew himself up. Then he knelt, offering his notched sword to the king. ''Command me, lord!'' he cried. ''And pardon me! I thought?"''
''You thought I remained in Meduseld bent like an old tree under winter snow. So it was when you rode to war. But a west wind has shaken the boughs,'' said Théoden. ''Give this man a fresh horse! Let us ride to the help of Erkenbrand!''
While Théoden was speaking, Gandalf rode a short way ahead, and he sat there alone, gazing north to Isengard and west to the setting sun. Now he came back.
''Ride, Théoden!'' he said. ''Ride to Helm''s Deep! Go not to the Fords of Isen, and do not tarry in the plain! I must leave you for a while. Shadowfax must bear me now on a swift errand.'' Turning to Aragorn and Éomer and the men of the king''s household, he cried: ''Keep well the Lord of the Mark, till I return. Await me at Helm''s Gate! Farewell!''
He spoke a word to Shadowfax, and like an arrow from the bow the great horse sprang away. Even as they looked he was gone: a flash of silver in the sunset, a wind over the grass, a shadow that fled and passed from sight. Snowmane snorted and reared, eager to follow; but only a swift bird on the wing could have overtaken him.
''What does that mean?'' said one of the guard to Háma.
''That Gandalf Greyhame has need of haste,'' answered Háma. ''Ever he goes and comes unlooked-for:''
''Wormtongue, were he here, would not find it hard to explain ''Said the other.
''True enough,'' said Háma; ''but for myself, I will wait until I see Gandalf again.''
''Maybe you will wait long,'' said the other.
The host turned away now from the road to the Fords of Isen and bent their course southward. Night fell, and still they rode on. The hills drew near, but the tall peaks of Thrihyrne were already dim against the darkening sky. Still some miles away, on the far side of the Westfold Vale, lay a green coomb, a great bay in the mountains, out of which a gorge opened in the hills. Men of that land called it Helm''s Deep, after a hero of old wars who had made his refuge there. Ever steeper and narrower it wound inward from the north under the shadow of the Thrihyrne, till the crow-haunted cliffs rose like mighty towers on either side, shutting out the light.
At Helm''s Gate, before the mouth of the Deep, there was a heel of rock thrust outward by the northern cliff. There upon its spur stood high walls of ancient stone, and within them was a lofty tower. Men said that in the far-off days of the glory of Gondor the sea-kings had built here this fastness with the hands of giants. The Hornburg it was called, for a trumpet sounded upon the tower echoed in the Deep behind, as if armies long-forgotten were issuing to war from ****s beneath the hills. A wall, too, the men of old had made from the Hornburg to the southern cliff, barring the entrance to the gorge. Beneath it by a wide culvert the Deeping-stream passed out. About the feet of the Hornrock it wound, and flowed then in a gully through the midst of a wide green gore, sloping gently down from Helm''s Gate to Helm''s Dike. Thence it fell into the Deeping-coomb and out into the Westfold Vale. There in the Hornburg at Helm''s Gate Erkenbrand, master of Westfold on the borders of the Mark, now dwelt. As the days darkened with threat of war, being wise, he had repaired the wall and made the fastness strong.
The Riders were still in the low valley before the mouth of the Coomb, when cries and hornblasts were heard from their scouts that went in front. Out of the darkness arrows whistled. Swiftly a scout rode back and reported that wolf-riders were abroad in the valley, and that a host of Orcs and wild men were hurrying southward from the Fords of Isen and seemed to be making for Helm''s Deep.
''We have found many of our folk lying slain as they fled thither,'' said the scout. ''And we have met scattered companies, going this way and that, leaderless. What has become of Erkenbrand none seem to know. It is likely that he will be overtaken ere he can reach Helm''s Gate, if he has not already perished.''
''Has aught been seen of Gandalf?'' asked Théoden.
''Yes, lord. Many have seen an old man in white upon a horse, passing hither and thither over the plains like wind in the grass. Some thought he was Saruman. It is said that he went away ere nightfall towards Isengard. Some say also that Wormtongue was seen earlier, going northward with a company of Orcs.''
''It will go ill with Wormtongue, if Gandalf comes upon him said Théoden. ''Nonetheless I miss now both my counsellors, the old and the new. But in this need we have no better choice than to go on, as Gandalf said, to Helm''s Gate, whether Erkenbrand be there or no. Is it known how great is the host that comes from the North?''
''It is very great,'' said the scout. ''He that flies counts every foeman twice, yet I have spoken to stouthearted men, and I do not doubt that the main strength of the enemy is many times as great as all that we have here.''
''Then let us be swift,'' said Éomer. ''Let us drive through such foes as are already between us and the fastness. There are ****s in Helm''s Deep where hundreds may lie hid; and secret ways lead thence up on to the hills.
''Trust not to secret ways,'' said the king. ''Saruman has long spied out this land. Still in that place our defence may last long. Let us go!''
Aragorn and Legolas went now with Éomer in the van. On through the dark night they rode, ever slower as the darkness deepened and their way climbed southward, higher and higher into the dim folds about the mountains'' feet. They found few of the enemy before them. Here and there they came upon roving bands of Orcs; but they fled ere the Riders could take or slay them.
''It will not be long I fear,'' said Éomer, ''ere the coming of the king''s host will be known to the leader of our enemies, Saruman or whatever captain he has sent forth.''
The rumour of war grew behind them. Now they could hear, borne over the dark, the sound of harsh singing. They had climbed far up into the Deeping-coomb when they looked back. Then they saw torches countless points of fiery light upon the black fields behind, scattered like red flowers, or winding up from the lowlands in long flickering lines. Here and there a larger blaze leapt up.
''It is a great host and follows us hard,'' said Aragorn.
''They bring fire,'' said Théoden, ''and they are burning as they come, rick, cot, and tree. This was a rich vale and had many homesteads. Alas for my folk!''
''Would that day was here and we might ride down upon them like a storm out of the mountains!'' said Aragorn. ''It grieves me to fly before them.''
''We need not fly much further,'' said Éomer. ''Not far ahead now lies Helm''s Dike, an ancient trench and rampart scored across the coomb, two furlongs below Helm''s Gate. There we can turn and give battle.''
''Nay, we are too few to defend the Dike,'' said Théoden. ''It is a mile long or more, and the breach in it is wide.''
''At the breach our rearguard must stand, if we are pressed,'' said Éomer.
There was neither star nor moon when the Riders came to the breach in the Dike, where the stream from above passed out, and the road beside it ran down from the Hornburg. The rampart loomed suddenly before them, a high shadow beyond a dark pit. As they rode up a sentinel challenged them.
''The Lord of the Mark rides to Helm''s Gate,'' Éomer answered. ''I, Éomer son of Éomund, speak.''
''This is good tidings beyond hope,'' said the sentinel. ''Hasten! The enemy is on your heels.''
The host passed through the breach and halted on the sloping sward above. They now learned to their joy that Erkenbrand had left many men to hold Helm''s Gate, and more had since escaped thither.

...until the heart betrays​

 ​

''Maybe, we have a thousand fit to fight on foot,'' said Gamling, an old man, the leader of those that watched the Dike. ''But most of them have seen too many winters, as I have, or too few, as my son''s son here. What news of Erkenbrand? Word came yesterday that he was retreating hither with all that is left of the best Riders of Westfold. But he has not come.''
''I fear that he will not come now,'' said Éomer. ''Our scouts have gained no news of him, and the enemy fills all the valley behind us.''
''I would that he had escaped,'' said Théoden. ''He was a mighty man. In him lived again the valour of Helm the Hammerhand. But we cannot await him here. We must draw all our forces now behind the walls. Are you well stored? We bring little provision, for we rode forth to open battle, not to a siege.''
''Behind us in the ****s of the Deep are three parts of the folk of Westfold, old and young, children and women,'' said Gamling. ''But great store of food, and many beasts and their fodder, have also been gathered there.''
''That is well,'' said Éomer. ''They are burning or despoiling all that is left in the vale.''
''If they come to bargain for our goods at Helm''s Gate, they will pay a high price,'' said Gamling.
The king and his Riders passed on. Before the causeway that crossed the stream they dismounted. In a long file they led their horses up the ramp and passed within the gates of the Hornburg. There they were welcomed again with joy and renewed hope; for now there were men enough to man both the burg and the barrier wall.
Quickly Éomer set his men in readiness. The king and the men of his household were in the Hornburg, and there also were many of the Westfold-men. But on the Deeping Wall and its tower, and behind it, Éomer arrayed most of the strength that he had, for here the defence seemed more doubtful, if the assault were determined and in great force. The horses were led far up the Deep under such guard as could be spared.
The Deeping Wall was twenty feet high, and so thick that four men could walk abreast along the top, sheltered by a parapet over which only a tall man could look. Here and there were clefts in the stone through which men could shoot. This battlement could be reached by a stair running down from a door in the outer court of the Hornburg; three flights of steps led also up on to the wall from the Deep behind; but in front it was smooth, and the great stones of it were set with such skill that no foothold could be found at their joints, and at the top they hung over like a sea-delved cliff.
Gimli stood leaning against the breastwork upon the wall. Legolas sat above on the parapet, fingering his bow, and peering out into the gloom.
''This is more to my liking,'' said the dwarf, stamping on the stones. ''Ever my heart rises as we draw near the mountains. There is good rock here. This country has tough bones. I felt them in my feet as we came up from the dike. Give me a year and a hundred of my kin and I would make this a place that armies would break upon like water.''
''I do not doubt it,'' said Legolas. ''But you are a dwarf, and dwarves are strange folk. I do not like this place, and I shall like it no more by the light of day. But you comfort me, Gimli, and I am glad to have you standing nigh with your stout legs and your hard axe. I wish there were more of your kin among us. But even more would I give for a hundred good archers of Mirkwood. We shall need them. The Rohirrim have good bowmen after their fashion, but there are too few here, too few.''
''It is dark for archery,'' said Gimli. ''Indeed it is time for sleep. Sleep! I feel the need of it, as never I thought any dwarf could. Riding is tiring work. Yet my axe is restless in my hand. Give me a row of orc-necks and room to swing and all weariness will fall from me!''
A slow time passed. Far down in the valley scattered fires still burned. The hosts of Isengard were advancing in silence now. Their torches could be seen winding up the coomb in many lines.
Suddenly from the Dike yells and screams, and the fierce battle-cries of men broke out. Flaming brands appeared over the brink and clustered thickly at the breach. Then they scattered and vanished. Men came galloping back over the field and up the ramp to the gate of the Hornburg. The rearguard of the Westfolders had been driven in.
''The enemy is at hand!'' they said. ''We loosed every arrow that we had, and filled the Dike with Orcs. But it will not halt them long. Already they are scaling the bank at many points, thick as marching ants. But we have taught them not to carry torches.''
It was now past midnight. The sky was utterly dark, and the stillness of the heavy air foreboded storm. Suddenly the clouds were seared by a blinding flash. Branched lightning smote down upon the eastward hills. For a staring moment the watchers on the walls saw all the space between them and the Dike lit with white light: it was boiling and crawling with black shapes. some squat and broad, some tall and grim, with high helms and sable shields. Hundreds and hundreds more were pouring over the Dike and through the breach. The dark tide flowed up to the walls from cliff to cliff. Thunder rolled in the valley. Rain came lashing down.
Arrows thick as the rain came whistling over the battlements, and fell clinking and glancing on the stones. Some found a mark. The assault on Helm''s Deep had begun, but no sound or challenge was heard within; no answering arrows came.
The assailing hosts halted, foiled by the silent menace of rock and wall. Ever and again the lightning tore aside the darkness. Then the Orcs screamed, waving spear and sword, and shooting a cloud of arrows at any that stood revealed upon the battlements; and the men of the Mark amazed looked out, as it seemed to them, upon a great field of dark corn, tossed by a tempest of war, and every ear glinted with barbed light.
Brazen trumpets sounded. The enemy surged forward, some against the Deeping Wall, other towards the causeway and the ramp that led up to the Hornburg-gates. There the hugest Orcs were mustered, and the wild men of the Dunland fells. A moment they hesitated and then on they came. The lightning flashed, and blazoned upon every helm and shield the ghastly hand of Isengard was seen: They reached the summit of the rock; they drove towards the gates.
Then at last an answer came: a storm of arrows met them, and a hail of stones. They wavered, broke, and fled back; and then charged again, broke and charged again; and each time, like the incoming sea, they halted at a higher point. Again trumpets rang, and a press of roaring men leaped forth. They held their great shields above them like a roof, while in their midst they bore two trunks of mighty trees. Behind them orc-archers crowded, sending a hail of darts against the bowmen on the walls. They gained the gates. The trees, swung by strong arms, smote the timbers with a rending boom. If any man fell, crushed by a stone hurtling from above, two others sprang to take his place. Again and again the great rams swung and crashed.
Éomer and Aragorn stood together on the Deeping Wall. They heard the roar of voices and the thudding of the rams; and then in a sudden flash of light they beheld the peril of the gates.
''Come!'' said Aragorn. ''This is the hour when we draw swords together!''
Running like fire, they sped along the wall, and up the steps, and passed into the outer court upon the Rock. As they ran they gathered a handful of stout swordsmen. There was a small postern-door that opened in an angle of the burg-wall on the west, where the cliff stretched out to meet it. On that side a narrow path ran round towards the great gate, between the wall and the sheer brink of the Rock. Together Éomer and Aragorn sprang through the door, their men close behind. The swords flashed from the sheath as one.
''Gúthwinë!'' cried Éomer. ''Gúthwinë for the Mark!''
''Andúril!'' cried Aragorn. ''Andúril for the Dúnedain!''
Charging from the side, they hurled themselves upon the wild men. Andúril rose and fell, gleaming with white fire. A shout went up from wall and tower: ''Andúril! Andúril goes to war. The Blade that was Broken shines again!''
Dismayed the rammers let fall the trees and turned to fight; but the wall of their shields was broken as by a lightning-stroke, and they were swept away, hewn down, or cast over the Rock into the stony stream below. The orc-archers shot wildly and then fled.
For a moment Éomer and Aragorn halted before the gates. The thunder was rumbling in the distance now. The lightning flickered still, far off among the mountains in the South. A keen wind was blowing from the North again. The clouds were torn and drifting, and stars peeped out; and above the hills of the Coomb-side the westering moon rode, glimmering yellow in the storm-wrack.
''We did not come too soon,'' said Aragorn, looking at the gates. Their great hinges and iron bars were wrenched and bent; many of their timbers were cracked.
''Yet we cannot stay here beyond the walls to defend them,'' said Éomer. ''Look!'' He pointed to the causeway. Already a great press of Orcs and Men were gathering again beyond the stream. Arrows whined, and skipped on the stones about them. ''Come! We must get back and see what we can do to pile stone and beam across the gates within. Come now!''
They turned and ran. At that moment some dozen Orcs that had lain motionless among the slain leaped to their feet, and came silently and swiftly behind. Two flung themselves to the ground at Éomer''s heels, tripped him, and in a moment they were on top of him. But a small dark figure that none had observed sprang out of the shadows and gave a hoarse shout: Baruk Khazâd! Khazâd ai-mênu! An axe swung and swept back. Two Orcs fell headless. The rest fled.
Éomer struggled to his feet, even as Aragorn ran back to his aid.
The postern was closed again, the iron door was barred and piled inside with stones. When all were safe within, Éomer turned: ''I thank you, Gimli son of Glóin!'' he said. ''I did not know that you were with us in the sortie. But oft the unbidden guest proves the best company. How came you there?''
''I followed you to shake off sleep,'' said Gimli; ''but I looked on the hillmen and they seemed over large for me, so I sat beside a stone to see your sword-play.''
''I shall not find it easy to repay you,'' said Éomer.
''There may be many a chance ere the night is over,'' laughed the Dwarf. ''But I am content. Till now I have hewn naught but wood since I left Moria.''
''Two!'' said Gimli, patting his axe. He had returned to his place on the wall.
''Two?'' said Legolas. ''I have done better, though now I must grope for spent arrows; all mine are gone. Yet I make my tale twenty at the least. But that is only a few leaves in a forest.''
The sky now was quickly clearing and the sinking moon was shining brightly. But the light brought little hope to the Riders of the Mark. The enemy before them seemed to have grown rather than diminished, still more were pressing up from the valley through the breach. The sortie upon the Rock gained only a brief respite. The assault on the gates was redoubled. Against the Deeping Wall the hosts of Isengard roared like a sea. Orcs and hillmen swarmed about its feet from end to end. Ropes with grappling hooks were hurled over the parapet faster than men could cut them or fling them back. Hundreds of long ladders were lifted up. Many were cast down in ruin, but many more replaced them, and Orcs sprang up them like apes in the dark forests of the South. Before the wall''s foot the dead and broken were piled like shingle in a storm; ever higher rose the hideous mounds, and still the enemy came on.
The men of Rohan grew weary. All their arrows were spent, and every shaft was shot; their swords were notched, and their shields were riven. Three times Aragorn and Éomer rallied them, and three times Andúril flamed in a desperate charge that drove the enemy from the wall.
Hoá ra là bây giờ TTVN để chế độ sau 180s mới được gửi bài tiếp,hic,đợi đến đời nào mới xong , thế thôi lời hứa post 1 lúc 100 trang e là khó thực hiện với cái kiểu 3 fút một lần post thế này rồi hì hì

...until the heart betrays​

 ​

Then a clamour arose in the Deep behind. Orcs had crept like rats through the culvert through which the stream flowed out. There they had gathered in the shadow of the cliffs, until the assault above was hottest and nearly all the men of the defence had rushed to the wall''s top. Then they sprang out. Already some had passed into the jaws of the Deep and were among the horses, fighting with the guards.
Down from the wall leapt Gimli with a fierce cry that echoed in the cliffs. ''Khazâd! Khazâd!'' He soon had work enough.
''Ai-oi!'' he shouted. ''The Orcs are behind the wall. Ai-oi! Come, Legolas! There are enough for us both. Khazâd ai-mênu!''
Gamling the Old looked down from the Hornburg, hearing the great voice of the dwarf above all the tumult. ''The Orcs are in the Deep!'' he cried. ''Helm! Helm! Forth Helmingas. he shouted as he leaped down the stair from the Rock with many men of Westfold at his back.
Their onset was fierce and sudden, and the Orcs gave way before them. Ere long they were hemmed in in the narrows of the gorge, and all were slain or driven shrieking into the chasm of the Deep to fall before the guardians of the hidden ****s.
''Twenty-one!'' cried Gimli. He hewed a two-handed stroke and laid the last Orc before his feet. ''Now my count passes Master Legolas again.''
''We must stop this rat-hole,'' said Gamling. ''Dwarves are said to be cunning folk with stone. Lend us your aid, master!''
''We do not shape stone with battle-axes, nor with our finger-nails,'' said Gimli. ''But I will help as I may.''
They gathered such small boulders and broken stones as they could find to hand, and under Gimli''s direction the Westfold-men blocked up the inner end of the culvert, until only a narrow outlet remained. Then the Deeping-stream, swollen by the rain, churned and fretted in its choked path, and spread slowly in cold pools from cliff to cliff.
''It will be drier above,'' said Gimli. ''Come, Gamling, let us see how things go on the wall!''
He climbed up and found Legolas beside Aragorn and Éomer. The elf was whetting his long knife. There was for a while a lull in the assault, since the attempt to break in through the culvert had been foiled.
''Twenty-one!'' said Gimli.
''Good!'' said Legolas. ''But my count is now two dozen. It has been knife-work up here.''
Éomer and Aragorn leant wearily on their swords. Away on the left the crash and clamour of the battle on the Rock rose loud again. But the Hornburg still held fast, like an island in the sea. Its gates lay in ruin; but over the barricade of beams and stones within no enemy as yet had passed.
Aragorn looked at the pale stars, and at the moon, now sloping behind the western hills that enclosed the valley. ''This is a night as long as years,'' he said. ''How long will the day tarry?''
''Dawn is not far off,'' said Gamling, who had now climbed up beside him. ''But dawn will not help us, I fear.''
''Yet dawn is ever the hope of men,'' said Aragorn.
''But these creatures of Isengard, these half-orcs and goblin-men that the foul craft of Saruman has bred, they will not quail at the sun,'' said Gamling. ''And neither will the wild men of the hills. Do you not hear their voices?''
''I hear them,'' said Éomer; ''but they are only the scream of birds and the bellowing of beasts to my ears.''
''Yet there are many that cry in the Dunland tongue,'' said Gamling. ''I know that tongue. It is an ancient speech of men, and once was spoken in many western valleys of the Mark. Hark! They hate us, and they are glad; for our doom seems certain to them. ''The king the king!'' they cry. ''We will take their king. Death to the Forgoil! Death to the Strawheads! Death to the robbers of the North!'' Such names they have for us. Not in half a thousand years have they forgotten their grievance that the lords of Gondor gave the Mark to Eorl the Young and made alliance with him. That old hatred Saruman has inflamed. They are fierce folk when roused. They will not give way now for dusk or dawn, until Théoden is taken, or they themselves are slain.''
''Nonetheless day will bring hope to me,'' said Aragorn. ''Is it not said that no foe has ever taken the Hornburg, if men defended it?''
''So the minstrels say,'' said Éomer.
''Then let us defend it, and hope!'' said Aragorn.
Even as they spoke there came a blare of trumpets. Then there was a crash and a flash of flame and smoke. The waters of the Deeping-stream poured out hissing and foaming: they were choked no longer, a gaping hole was blasted in the wall. A host of dark shapes poured in.
''Devilry of Saruman!'' cried Aragorn. ''They have crept in the culvert again, while we talked, and they have lit the fire of Orthanc beneath our feet. Elendil, Elendil!'' he shouted, as he leaped down into the breach; but even as he did so a hundred ladders were raised against the battlements. Over the wall and under the wall the last assault came sweeping like a dark wave upon a hill of sand. The defence was swept away. Some of the Riders were driven back, further and further into the Deep, falling and fighting as they gave way, step by step, towards the ****s. Others cut their way back towards the citadel.
A broad stairway, climbed from the Deep up to the Rock and the rear-gate of the Hornburg. Near the bottom stood Aragorn. In his hand still Andúril gleamed, and the terror of the sword for a while held back the enemy, as one by one all who could gain the stair passed up towards the gate. Behind on the upper steps knelt Legolas. His bow was bent, but one gleaned arrow was all that he had left, and he peered out now, ready to shoot the first Orc that should dare to approach the stair.
''All who can have now got safe within, Aragorn,'' he called. ''Come back!''
Aragorn turned and sped up the stair; but as he ran he stumbled in his weariness. At once his enemies leapt forward. Up came the Orcs, yelling, with their long arms stretched out to seize him. The foremost fell with Legolas'' last arrow in his throat. but the rest sprang over him. Then a great boulder, cast from the outer wall above, crashed down upon the stair, and hurled them back into the Deep. Aragorn gained the door, and swiftly it clanged to behind him.
''Things go ill, my friends,'' he said, wiping the sweat from his brow with his arm.
''Ill enough,'' said Legolas, ''but not yet hopeless, while we have you with us. Where is Gimli?''
''I do not know.'' said Aragorn. ''I last saw him fighting on the ground behind the wall, but the enemy swept us apart.''
''Alas! That is evil news,'' said Legolas.
''He is stout and strong,'' said Aragorn. ''Let us hope that he will escape back to the ****s. There he would be safe for a while. Safer than we. Such a refuge would be to the liking of a dwarf.''
''That must be my hope'''' said Legolas. ''But I wish that he had come this way. I desired to tell Master Gimli that my tale is now thirty-nine.''
''If he wins back to the ****s, he will pass your count again,'' laughed Aragorn. ''Never did I see an axe so wielded.''
''I must go and seek some arrows,'' said Legolas. ''Would that this night would end, and I could have better light for shooting.''
Aragorn now passed into the citadel. There to his dismay he learned that Éomer had not reached the Hornburg.
''Nay, he did not come to the Rock,'' said one of the Westfold-men, ''I last saw him gathering men about him and fighting in the mouth of the Deep. Gamling was with him, and the dwarf; but I could not come to them.''
Aragorn strode on through the inner court, and mounted to a high chamber in the tower. There stood the king, dark against a narrow window, looking out upon the vale.
''What is the news, Aragorn?'' he said.
''The Deeping Wall is taken, lord, and all the defence swept away; but many have escaped hither to the Rock.''
''Is Éomer here?''
''No, lord. But many of your men retreated into the Deep; and some say that Éomer was amongst them. In the narrows they may hold back the enemy and come within the ****s. What hope they may have then I do not know.''
''More than we. Good provision, it is said. And the air is wholesome there because of the outlets through fissures in the rock far above. None can force an entrance against determined men. They may hold out long.''
''But the Orcs have brought a devilry from Orthanc,'' said Aragorn. ''They have a blasting fire, and with it they took the Wall. If they cannot come in the ****s, they may seal up those that are inside. But now we must turn all our thoughts to our own defence.''
''I fret in this prison,'' said Théoden. ''If I could have set a spear in rest, riding before my men upon the field, maybe I could have felt again the joy of battle, and so ended. But I serve little purpose here.''
''Here at least you are guarded in the strongest fastness of the Mark,'' said Aragorn. ''More hope we have to defend you in the Hornburg than in Edoras, or even at Dunharrow in the mountains.''
''It is said that the Hornburg has never fallen to assault,'' said Théoden; ''but now my heart is doubtful. The world changes, and all that once was strong now proves unsure. How shall any tower withstand such numbers and such reckless hate? Had I known that the strength of Isengard was grown so great, maybe l should not so rashly have ridden forth to meet it, for all the arts of Gandalf. His counsel seems not now so good as it did under the morning sun.''
''Do not judge the counsel of Gandalf, until all is over, lord,'' said Aragorn.
''The end will not be long,'' said the king. ''But I will not end here, taken like an old badger in a trap. Snowmane and Hasufel and the horses of my guard are in the inner court. When dawn comes, I will bid men sound Helm''s horn, and I will ride forth. Will you ride with me then, son of Arathorn? Maybe we shall cleave a road, or make such an end as will be worth a song-if any be left to sing of us hereafter.''
''I will ride with you,'' said Aragorn.
Taking his leave, he returned to the walls, and passed round all their circuit, enheartening the men, and lending aid wherever the assault was hot. Legolas went with him. Blasts of fire leaped up from below shaking the stones. Grappling-hooks were hurled, and ladders raised. Again and again the Orcs gained the summit of the outer wall, and again the defenders cast them down.
At last Aragorn stood above the great gates, heedless of the darts of the enemy. As he looked forth he saw the eastern sky grow pale. Then he raised his empty hand, palm outward in token of parley.
The Orcs yelled and jeered. ''Come down! Come down!'' they cried. ''If you wish to speak to us, come down! Bring out your king! We are the fighting Uruk-hai. We will fetch him from his hole, if he does not come. Bring out your skulking king!''
''The king stays or comes at his own will,'' said Aragorn.
''Then what are you doing here?'' they answered. ''Why do you look out? Do you wish to see the greatness of our army? We are the fighting Uruk-hai.''
''I looked out to see the dawn,'' said Aragorn.

...until the heart betrays​

 ​

''What of the dawn?'' they jeered. ''We are the Uruk-hai: we do not stop the fight for night or day, for fair weather or for storm. We come to kill, by sun or moon. What of the dawn?''
''None knows what the new day shall bring him,'' said Aragorn. ''Get you gone, ere it turn to your evil.''
''Get down or we will shoot you from the wall,'' they cried. ''This is no parley. You have nothing to say.''
''I have still this to say,'' answered Aragorn. ''No enemy has yet taken the Hornburg. Depart, or not one of you will be spared. Not one will be left alive to take back tidings to the North. You do not know your peril.''
So great a power and royalty was revealed in Aragorn, as he stood there alone above the ruined gates before the host of his enemies, that many of the wild men paused, and looked back over their shoulders to the valley, and some looked up doubtfully at the sky. But the Orcs laughed with loud voices; and a hail of darts and arrows whistled over the wall, as Aragorn leaped down.
There was a roar and a blast of fire. The archway of the gate above which he had stood a moment before crumbled and crashed in smoke and dust. The barricade was scattered as if by a thunderbolt. Aragorn ran to the king''s tower.
But even as the gate fell, and the Orcs about it yelled, preparing to charge, a murmur arose behind them. like a wind in the distance, and it grew to a clamour of many voices crying strange news in the dawn. The Orcs upon the Rock, hearing the rumour of dismay, wavered and looked back. And then, sudden and terrible, from the tower above, the sound of the great horn of Helm rang out.
All that heard that sound trembled. Many of the Orcs cast themselves on their faces and covered their ears with their claws. Back from the Deep the echoes came, blast upon blast, as if on every cliff and hill a mighty herald stood. But on the walls men looked up, listening with wonder; for the echoes did not die. Ever the horn-blasts wound on among the hills; nearer now and louder they answered one to another, blowing fierce and free.
''Helm! Helm!'' the Riders shouted. ''Helm is arisen and comes back to war. Helm for Théoden King!''
And with that shout the king came. His horse was white as snow, golden was his shield, and his spear was long. At his right hand was Aragorn, Elendil''s heir, behind him rode the lords of the House of Eorl the Young. Light sprang in the sky. Night departed.
''Forth Eorlingas!'' With a cry and a great noise they charged. Down from the gates they roared, over the causeway they swept, and they drove through the hosts of Isengard as a wind among grass. Behind them from the Deep came the stern cries of'' men issuing from the ****s, driving forth the enemy. Out poured all the men that were left upon the Rock. And ever the sound of blowing horns echoed in the hills.
On they rode, the king and his companions. Captains and champions fell or fled before them. Neither orc nor man withstood them. Their backs were to the swords and spears of the Riders and their faces to the valley. They cried and wailed, for fear and great wonder had come upon them with the rising of the day.
So King Théoden rode from Helm''s Gate and clove his path to the great Dike. There the company halted. Light grew bright about them. Shafts of the sun flared above the eastern hills and glimmered on their spears. But they sat silent on their horses, and they gazed down upon the Deeping-coomb.
The land had changed. Where before the green dale had lain, its grassy slopes lapping the ever-mounting hills, there now a forest loomed. Great trees, bare and silent, stood, rank on rank, with tangled bough and hoary head; their twisted roots were buried in the long green grass. Darkness was under them. Between the Dike and the eaves of that nameless wood only two open furlongs lay. There now cowered the proud hosts of Saruman, in terror of the king and in terror of the trees. They streamed down from Helm''s Gate until all above the Dike was empty of them, but below it they were packed like swarming flies. Vainly they crawled and clambered about the walls of the coomb. seeking to escape. Upon the east too sheer and stony was the valley''s side; upon the left, from the west, their final doom approached.
There suddenly upon a ridge appeared a rider, clad in white, shining in the rising sun. Over the low hills the horns were sounding. Behind him, hastening down the long slopes, were a thousand men on foot; their swords were in their hands. Amid them strode a man tall and strong. His shield was red. As he came to the valley''s brink, he set to his lips a great black horn and blew a ringing blast.
''Erkenbrand!'' the Riders shouted. ''Erkenbrand!''
''Behold the White Rider!'' cried Aragorn. ''Gandalf is come again!''
''Mithrandir, Mithrandir!'' said Legolas. ''This is wizardry indeed! Come! I would look on this forest, ere the spell changes.''
The hosts of Isengard roared, swaying this way and that, turning from fear to fear. Again the horn sounded from the tower. Down through the breach of the Dike charged the king''s company. Down from the hills leaped Erkenbrand, lord of Westfold. Down leaped Shadowfax, like a deer that runs surefooted in the mountains. The White Rider was upon them, and the terror of his coming filled the enemy with madness. The wild men fell on their faces before him. The Orcs reeled and screamed and cast aside both sword and spear. Like a black smoke driven by a mounting wind they fled. Wailing they passed under the waiting shadow of the trees; and from that shadow none ever came again.

Chapter 8​

The Road to Isengard​

So it was that in the light of a fair morning King Théoden and Gandalf the White Rider met again upon the green grass beside the Deeping-stream. There was also Aragorn son of Arathorn, and Legolas the Elf, and Erkenbrand of Westfold, and the lords of the Golden House. About them were gathered the Rohirrim, the Riders of the Mark: wonder overcame their joy in victory, and their eyes were turned towards the wood.
Suddenly there was a great shout, and down from the Dike came those who had been driven back into the Deep. There came Gamling the Old, and Éomer son of Éomund, and beside them walked Gimli the dwarf. He had no helm, and about his head was a linen band stained with blood; but his voice was loud and strong.
''Forty-two, Master Legolas!'' he cried. ''Alas! My axe is notched: the forty-second had an iron collar on his neck. How is it with you?''
''You have passed my score by one,'' answered Legolas. ''But I do not grudge you the game, so glad am I to see you on your legs!''
''Welcome, Éomer, sister-son!'' said Théoden. ''Now that I see you safe, I am glad indeed.''
''Hail, Lord of the Mark!'' said Éomer. ''The dark night has passed and day has come again. But the day has brought strange tidings.'' He turned and gazed in wonder, first at the wood and then at Gandalf. ''Once more you come in the hour of need, unlooked-for,'' he said.
''Unlooked-for?'' said Gandalf. ''I said that I would return and meet you here.''
''But you did not name the hour, nor foretell the manner of your coming. Strange help you bring. You are mighty in wizardry, Gandalf the White!''
''That may be. But if so, I have not shown it yet. I have but given good counsel in peril, and made use of the speed of Shadowfax. Your own valour has done more, and the stout legs of the Westfold-men marching through the night.''
Then they all gazed at Gandalf with still greater wonder. Some glanced darkly at the wood, and passed their hands over their brows, as if they thought their eyes saw otherwise than his.
Gandalf laughed long and merrily. ''The trees?'' he said. ''Nay, I see the wood as plainly as do you. But that is no deed of mine. It is a thing beyond the counsel of the wise. Better than my design, and better even than my hope the event has proved.''
''Then if not yours, whose is the wizardry?'' said Théoden. ''Not Saruman''s, that is plain. Is there some mightier sage, of whom we have yet to learn?''
''It is not wizardry, but a power far older,'' said Gandalf: ''a power that walked the earth, ere elf sang or hammer rang.

Ere iron was found or tree was hewn,
When young was mountain under moon;
Ere ring was made, or wrought was woe,
It walked the forests long ago.''​

''And what may be the answer to your riddle?'' said Théoden.
''If you would learn that, you should come with me to Isengard '' answered Gandalf.
''To Isengard?'' they cried.
''Yes,'' said Gandalf. ''I shall return to Isengard, and those who will may come with me. There we may see strange things.''
''But there are not men enough in the Mark, not if they were all gathered together and healed of wounds and weariness, to assault the stronghold of Saruman,'' said Théoden.
''Nevertheless to Isengard I go,'' said Gandalf. ''I shall not stay there long. My way lies now eastward. Look for me in Edoras, ere the waning of the moon!''
''Nay!'' said Théoden. ''In the dark hour before dawn I doubted, but we will not part now. I will come with you, if that is your counsel.''
''I wish to speak with Saruman, as soon as may be now,'' said Gandalf, ''and since he has done you great injury, it would be fitting if you were there. But how soon and how swiftly will you ride?''
''My men are weary with battle,'' said the King; ''and I am weary also. For I have ridden far and slept little. Alas! My old age is not feigned nor due only to the whisperings of Wormtongue. It is an ill that no leech can wholly cure, not even Gandalf.''
''Then let all who are to ride with me rest now,'' said Gandalf. ''We will journey under the shadow of evening. It is as well; for it is my counsel that all our comings and goings should be as secret as may be, henceforth. But do not command many men to go with you, Théoden. We go to a parley not to a fight.''
The King then chose men that were unhurt and had swift horses, and he sent them forth with tidings of the victory into every vale of the Mark; and they bore his summons also, bidding all men, young and old, to come in haste to Edoras. There the Lord of the Mark would hold an assembly of all that could bear arms, on the second day after the full moon. To ride with him to Isengard the King chose Éomer and twenty men of his household. With Gandalf would go Aragorn, and Legolas, and Gimli. In spite of his hurt the dwarf would not stay behind.
''It was only a feeble blow and the cap turned it;'' he said. ''It would take more than such an orc-scratch to keep me back.''
''I will tend it, while you rest,'' said Aragorn.
The king now returned to the Hornburg, and slept, such a sleep of quiet as he had not known for many years, and the remainder of his chosen company rested also. But the others, all that were not hurt or wounded, began a great labour; for many had fallen in the battle and lay dead upon the field or in the Deep.
No Orcs remained alive; their bodies were uncounted. But a great many of the hillmen had given themselves up; and they were afraid, and cried for mercy.
The Men of the Mark took their weapons from them, and set them to work.
''Help now to repair the evil in which you have joined,'' said Erkenbrand; ''and afterwards you shall take an oath never again to pass the Fords of Isen in arms, nor to march with the enemies of Men; and then you shall go free back to your land. For you have been deluded by Saruman. Many of you have got death as the reward of your trust in him; but had you conquered, little better would your wages have been.''
The men of Dunland were amazed, for Saruman had told them that the men of Rohan were cruel and burned their captives alive.

...until the heart betrays​

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