Pippin was roused by Gandalf. Candles were lit in their chamber1, for only a dim twilight2 came through the windows; the air was heavy as with approaching thunder.
'What is the time?' said Pippin yawning.
'Past the second hour,' said Gandalf. 'Time to get up and make yourself presentable. You are summoned to the Lord of the City to learn your new duties.'
'And will he provide breakfast?'
'No! I have provided it: all that you will get till noon. Food is now doled3 out by order.'
Pippin looked ruefully at the small loaf and (he thought) very inadequate5 pat of butter which was set out for him, beside a cup of thin milk. 'Why did you bring me here?' he said.
'You know quite well,' said Gandalf. 'To keep you out of mischief6; and if you do not like being here, you can remember that you brought it on yourself.' Pippin said no more.
Before long he was walking with Gandalf once more down the cold corridor to the door of the Tower Hall. There Denethor sat in a grey gloom, like an old patient spider, Pippin thought: he did not seem to have moved since the day before. He beckoned7 Gandalf to a seat, but Pippin was left for a while standing8 unheeded. Presently the old man turned to him:
'Well, Master Peregrin, I hope that you used yesterday to your profit, and to your liking12? Though I fear that the board is barer in this city than you could wish.'
Pippin had an uncomfortable feeling that most of what he had said or done was somehow known to the Lord of the City, and much was guessed of what he thought as well. He did not answer.
'What would you do in my service?'
'I thought, sir, that you would tell me my duties.'
'I will, when I learn what you are fit for,' said Denethor. 'But that I shall learn soonest, maybe, if I keep you beside me. The esquire of my chamber has begged leave to go to the out-garrison13, so you shall take his place for a while. You shall wait on me, bear errands, and talk to me, if war and council leave me any leisure. Can you sing?'
'Yes,' said Pippin. 'Well, yes, well enough for my own people. But we have no songs fit for great halls and evil times, lord. We seldom sing of anything more terrible than wind or rain. And most of my songs are about things that make us laugh; or about food and drink, of course.'
'And why should such songs be unfit for my halls, or for such hours as these? We who have lived long under the Shadow may surely listen to echoes from a land untroubled by it? Then we may feel that our vigil was not fruitless, though it may have been thankless.'
Pippin's heart sank. He did not relish14 the idea of singing any song of the Shire to the Lord of Minas Tirith, certainly not the comic ones that he knew best; they were too, well, rustic15 for such an occasion. He was however spared the ordeal16 for the present. He was not commanded to sing. Denethor turned to Gandalf, asking questions about the Rohirrim and their policies, and the position of ?omer, the king's nephew. Pippin marvelled17 at the amount that the Lord seemed to know about a people that lived far away, though it must, he thought, be many years since Denethor himself had ridden abroad.
Presently Denethor waved to Pippin and dismissed him again for a while. 'Go to the armouries of the Citadel18,' he said, 'and get you there the livery and gear of the Tower. It will be ready. It was commanded yesterday. Return when you are clad!'
It was as he said; and Pippin soon found himself arrayed in strange garments, all of black and silver. He had a small hauberk, its rings forged of steel, maybe, yet black as jet; and a high-crowned helm with small raven-wings on either side, set with a silver star in the centre of the circlet. Above the mail was a short surcoat of black, but broidered on the breast in silver with the token of the Tree. His old clothes were folded and put away, but he was permitted to keep the grey cloak of Lórien, though not to wear it when on duty. He looked now, had he known it, verily Ernil i Pheriannath, the Prince of the Halflings, that folk had called him; but he felt uncomfortable. And the gloom began to weigh on his spirits.
It was dark and dim all day. From the sunless dawn until evening the heavy shadow had deepened, and all hearts in the City were oppressed. Far above a great cloud streamed slowly westward19 from the Black Land, devouring20 light, borne upon a wind of war; but below the air was still and breathless, as if all the Vale of Anduin waited for the onset21 of a ruinous storm.
About the eleventh hour, released at last for a while from service. Pippin came out and went in search of food and drink to cheer his heavy heart and make his task of waiting more supportable. In the messes he met Beregond again, who had just come from an errand over the Pelennor out to the Guard-towers upon the Causeway. Together they strolled out to the walls; for Pippin felt imprisoned22 indoors, and stifled23 even in the lofty citadel. Now they sat side by side again in the embrasure looking eastward24, where they had eaten and talked the day before.
It was the sunset-hour, but the great pall25 had now stretched far into the West, and only as it sank at last into the Sea did the Sun escape to send out a brief farewell gleam before the night, even as Frodo saw it at the Cross-roads touching26 the head of the fallen king. But to the fields of the Pelennor, under the shadow of Mindolluin, there came no gleam: they were brown and drear.
Already it seemed years to Pippin since he had sat there before, in some half-forgotten time when he had still been a hobbit, a light-hearted wanderer touched little by the perils28 he had passed through. Now he was one small soldier in a city preparing for a great assault, clad in the proud but sombre manner of the Tower of Guard.
In some other time and place Pippin might have been pleased with his new array, but he knew now that he was taking part in no play; he was in deadly earnest the servant of a grim master in the greatest peril27. The hauberk was burdensome, and the helm weighed upon his head. His cloak he had cast aside upon the seat. He turned his tired gaze away from the darkling fields below and yawned, and then he sighed.
'You are weary of this day?' said Beregond.
'Yes,' said Pippin, 'very: tired out with idleness and waiting. I have kicked my heels at the door of my master's chamber for many slow hours, while he has debated with Gandalf and the Prince and other great persons. And I'm not used, Master Beregond, to waiting hungry on others while they eat. It is a sore trial for a hobbit, that. No doubt you will think I should feel the honour more deeply. But what is the good of such honour? Indeed what is the good even of food and drink under this creeping shadow? What does it mean? The very air seems thick and brown! Do you often have such glooms when the wind is in the East?'
'Nay29,' said Beregond, 'this is no weather of the world. This is some device of his malice30; some broil31 of fume32 from the Mountain of Fire that he sends to darken hearts and counsel. And so it doth indeed. I wish the Lord Faramir would return. He would not be dismayed. But now, who knows if he will ever come back across the River out of the Darkness?'
'Yes,' said Pippin, 'Gandalf, too, is anxious. He was disappointed. I think, not to find Faramir here. And where has he got to himself? He left the Lord's council before the noon-meal, and in no good mood either, I thought. Perhaps he has some foreboding of bad news.'
Suddenly as they talked they were stricken dumb, frozen as it were to listening stones. Pippin cowered34 down with his hands pressed to his ears; but Beregond, who had been looking out from the battlement as he spoke35 of Faramir, remained there, stiffened36, staring out with starting eyes. Pippin knew the shuddering38 cry that he had heard: it was the same that he had heard long ago in the Marish of the Shire, but now it was grown in power and hatred39, piercing the heart with a poisonous despair.
At last Beregond spoke with an effort. 'They have come!' he said. 'Take courage and look! There are fell things below.'
Reluctantly Pippin climbed on to the seat and looked out over the wall. The Pelennor lay dim beneath him, fading away to the scarce guessed line of the Great River. But now wheeling swiftly across it, like shadows of untimely night, he saw in the middle airs below him five birdlike forms, horrible as carrion-fowl yet greater than eagles, cruel as death. Now they swooped40 near, venturing almost within bowshot of the walls, now they circled away.
'Black Riders!' muttered Pippin. 'Black Riders of the air! But see, Beregond!' he cried. 'They are looking for something, surely? See how they wheel and swoop41, always down to that point over there! And can you see something moving on the ground? Dark little things. Yes, men on horses: four or five. Ah! I cannot stand it! Gandalf! Gandalf save us!'
Another long screech42 rose and fell, and he threw himself back again from the wall, panting like a hunted animal. Faint and seemingly remote through that shuddering cry he heard winding43 up from below the sound of a trumpet44 ending on a long high note.
'Faramir! The Lord Faramir! It is his call!' cried Beregond. 'Brave heart! But how can he win to the Gate, if these foul45 hell-hawks have other weapons than fear? But look! They hold on. They will make the Gate. No! the horses are running mad. Look! the men are thrown; they are running on foot. No, one is still up, but he rides back to the others. That will be the Captain: he can master both beasts and men. Ah! there one of the foul things is stooping on him. Help! help! Will no one go out to him? Faramir!'
With that Beregond sprang away and ran off into the gloom. Ashamed of his terror, while Beregond of the Guard thought first of the captain whom he loved, Pippin got up and peered out. At that moment he caught a flash of white and silver coming from the North, like a small star down on the dusky fields. It moved with the speed of an arrow and grew as it came, converging46 swiftly with the flight of the four men towards the Gate. It seemed to Pippin that a pale light was spread about it and the heavy shadows gave way before it; and then as it drew near he thought that he heard, like an echo in the walls, a great voice calling.
'Gandalf!' he cried. 'Gandalf! He always turns up when things are darkest. Go on! Go on, White Rider! Gandalf, Gandalf!' he shouted wildly, like an onlooker47 at a great race urging on a runner who is far beyond encouragement.
But now the dark swooping48 shadows were aware of the newcomer. One wheeled towards him; but it seemed to Pippin that he raised his hand, and from it a shaft49 of white light stabbed upwards50. The Nazg?l gave a long wailing51 cry and swerved52 away; and with that the four others wavered, and then rising in swift spirals they passed away eastward vanishing into the lowering cloud above; and down on the Pelennor it seemed for a while less dark.
Pippin watched, and he saw the horseman and the White Rider meet and halt, waiting for those on foot. Men now hurried out to them from the City; and soon they all passed from sight under the outer walls, and he knew that they were entering the Gate. Guessing that they would come at once to the Tower and the Steward53, he hurried to the entrance of the citadel. There he was joined by many others who had watched the race and the rescue from the high walls.
It was not long before a clamour was heard in the streets leading up from the outer circles, and there was much cheering and crying of the names of Faramir and Mithrandir. Presently Pippin saw torches, and followed by a press of people two horsemen riding slowly: one was in white but shining no longer, pale in the twilight as if his fire was spent or veiled; the other was dark and his head was bowed. They dismounted, and as grooms54 took Shadowfax and the other horse, they walked forward to the sentinel at the gate: Gandalf steadily55, his grey cloak flung back, and a fire still smouldering in his eyes; the other, clad all in green, slowly, swaying a little as a weary or a wounded man.
Pippin pressed forward as they passed under the lamp beneath the gate-arch, and when he saw the pale face of Faramir he caught his breath. It was the face of one who has been assailed57 by a great fear or anguish58, but has mastered it and now is quiet. Proud and grave he stood for a moment as he spoke to the guard, and Pippin gazing at him saw how closely he resembled his brother Boromir – whom Pippin had liked from the first, admiring the great man's lordly but kindly59 manner. Yet suddenly for Faramir his heart was strangely moved with a feeling that he had not known before. Here was one with an air of high nobility such as Aragorn at times revealed, less high perhaps, yet also less incalculable and remote: one of the Kings of Men born into a later time, but touched with the wisdom and sadness of the Elder Race. He knew now why Beregond spoke his name with love. He was a captain that men would follow, that he would follow, even under the shadow of the black wings.
'Faramir!' he cried aloud with the others. 'Faramir!' And Faramir catching60 his strange voice among the clamour of the men of the City, turned and looked down at him and was amazed.
'Whence come you?' he said. 'A halfling, and in the livery of the Tower! Whence...?'
But with that Gandalf stepped to his side and spoke. 'He came with me from the land of the Halflings,' he said. 'He came with me. But let us not tarry here. There is much to say and to do, and you are weary. He shall come with us. Indeed he must, for if he does not forget his new duties more easily than I do, he must attend on his lord again within this hour. Come, Pippin, follow us!'
So at length they came to the private chamber of the Lord of the City. There deep seats were set about a brazier of charcoal61; and wine was brought; and there Pippin, hardly noticed, stood behind the chair of Denethor and felt his weariness little, so eagerly did he listen to all that was said.
When Faramir had taken white bread and drunk a draught62 of wine, he sat upon a low chair at his father's left hand. Removed a little upon the other side sat Gandalf in a chair of carven wood; and he seemed at first to be asleep. For at the beginning Faramir spoke only of the errand upon which he had been sent out ten days before, and he brought tidings of Ithilien and of movements of the Enemy and his allies; and he told of the fight on the road when the men of Harad and their great beast were overthrown63: a captain reporting to his master such matters as had often been heard before, small things of border-war that now seemed useless and petty, shorn of their renown64.
Then suddenly Faramir looked at Pippin. 'But now we come to strange matters,' he said. 'For this is not the first halfling that I have seen walking out of northern legends into the Southlands.'
At that Gandalf sat up and gripped the arms of his chair; but he said nothing, and with a look stopped the exclamation65 on Pippin's lips. Denethor looked at their faces and nodded his head, as though in sign that he had read much there before it was spoken. Slowly, while the others sat silent and still, Faramir told his tale, with his eyes for the most part on Gandalf, though now and again his glance strayed to Pippin, as if to refresh his memory of others that he had seen.
As his story was unfolded of his meeting with Frodo and his servant and of the events at Henneth Ann?n, Pippin became aware that Gandalf's hands were trembling as they clutched the carven wood. White they seemed now and very old, and as he looked at them, suddenly with a thrill of fear Pippin knew that Gandalf, Gandalf himself, was troubled, even afraid. The air of the room was close and still. At last when Faramir spoke of his parting with the travellers, and of their resolve to go to Cirith Ungol, his voice fell, and he shook his head and sighed. Then Gandalf sprang up.
'Cirith Ungol? Morgul Vale?' he said. 'The time, Faramir, the time? When did you part with them? When would they reach that accursed valley?'
'I parted with them in the morning two days ago,' said Faramir. 'It is fifteen leagues thence to the vale of the Morgulduin, if they went straight south; and then they would be still five leagues westward of the accursed Tower. At swiftest they could not come there before today, and maybe they have not come there yet. Indeed I see what you fear. But the darkness is not due to their venture. It began yestereve, and all Ithilien was under shadow last night. It is clear to me that the Enemy has long planned an assault on us, and its hour had already been determined66 before ever the travellers left my keeping.'
Gandalf paced the floor. 'The morning of two days ago, nigh on three days of journey! How far is the place where you parted?'
'Some twenty-five leagues as a bird flies,' answered Faramir. 'But I could not come more swiftly. Yestereve I lay at Cair Andros, the long isle67 in the River northward68 which we hold in defence; and horses are kept on the hither bank. As the dark drew on I knew that haste was needed, so I rode thence with three others that could also be horsed. The rest of my company I sent south to strengthen the garrison at the fords of Osgiliath. I hope that I have not done ill?' He looked at his father.
'Ill?' cried Denethor, and his eyes flashed suddenly. 'Why do you ask? The men were under your command. Or do you ask for my judgement on all your deeds? Your bearing is lowly in my presence, yet it is long now since you turned from your own way at my counsel. See, you have spoken skilfully69, as ever; but I, have I not seen your eye fixed70 on Mithrandir, seeking whether you said well or too much? He has long had your heart in his keeping.
'My son, your father is old but not yet dotard. I can see and hear, as was my wont71; and little of what you have half said or left unsaid is now hidden from me. I know the answer to many riddles72. Alas73, alas for Boromir!'
'If what I have done displeases74 you, my father,' said Faramir quietly, 'I wish I had known your counsel before the burden of so weighty a judgement was thrust on me.'
'Would that have availed to change your judgement?' said Denethor. 'You would still have done just so, I deem. I know you well. Ever your desire is to appear lordly and generous as a king of old, gracious, gentle. That may well befit one of high race, if he sits in power and peace. But in desperate hours gentleness may be repaid with death.'
'So be it,' said Faramir.
'So be it!' cried Denethor. 'But not with your death only, Lord Faramir: with the death also of your father, and of all your people, whom it is your part to protect now that Boromir is gone.'
'Do you wish then,' said Faramir, 'that our places had been exchanged?'
'Yes, I wish that indeed,' said Denethor. 'For Boromir was loyal to me and no wizard's pupil. He would have remembered his father's need, and would not have squandered75 what fortune gave. He would have brought me a mighty76 gift.'
For a moment Faramir's restraint gave way. 'I would ask you, my father, to remember why it was that I, not he, was in Ithilien. On one occasion at least your counsel has prevailed, not long ago. It was the Lord of the City that gave the errand to him.'
'Stir not the bitterness in the cup that I mixed for myself,' said Denethor. 'Have I not tasted it now many nights upon my tongue foreboding that worse yet lay in the dregs? As now indeed I find. Would it were not so! Would that this thing had come to me!'
'Comfort yourself!' said Gandalf. 'In no case would Boromir have brought it to you. He is dead, and died well; may he sleep in peace! Yet you deceive yourself. He would have stretched out his hand to this thing, and taking it he would have fallen. He would have kept it for his own, and when he returned you would not have known your son.'
The face of Denethor set hard and cold. 'You found Boromir less apt to your hand, did you not?' he said softly. 'But I who was his father say that he would have brought it to me. You are wise, maybe, Mithrandir, yet with all your subtleties77 you have not all wisdom. Counsels may be found that are neither the webs of wizards nor the haste of fools. I have in this matter more lore78 and wisdom than you deem. '
'What then is your wisdom?' said Gandalf.
'Enough to perceive that there are two follies79 to avoid. To use this thing is perilous80. At this hour, to send it in the hands of a witless halfling into the land of the Enemy himself, as you have done, and this son of mine, that is madness.'
'And the Lord Denethor what would he have done?'
'Neither. But most surely not for any argument would he have set this thing at a hazard beyond all but a fool's hope, risking our utter ruin, if the Enemy should recover what he lost. Nay, it should have been kept, hidden, hidden dark and deep. Not used, I say, unless at the uttermost end of need, but set beyond his grasp, save by a victory so final that what then befell would not trouble us, being dead.'
'You think, as is your wont, my lord, of Gondor only,' said Gandalf. 'Yet there are other men and other lives, and time still to be. And for me, I pity even his slaves.'
'And where will other men look for help, if Gondor falls?' answered Denethor. 'If I had this thing now in the deep vaults81 of this citadel, we should not then shake with dread82 under this gloom, fearing the worst, and our counsels would be undisturbed. If you do not trust me to endure the test, you do not know me yet.'
'Nonetheless I do not trust you,' said Gandalf. 'Had I done so, I could have sent this thing hither to your keeping and spared myself and others much anguish. And now hearing you speak I trust you less, no more than Boromir. Nay, stay your wrath83! I do not trust myself in this, and I refused this thing, even as a freely given gift. You are strong and can still in some matters govern yourself, Denethor; yet if you had received this thing, it would have overthrown you. Were it buried beneath the roots of Mindolluin, still it would burn your mind away, as the darkness grows, and the yet worse things follow that soon shall come upon us.'
For a moment the eyes of Denethor glowed again as he faced Gandalf, and Pippin felt once more the strain between their wills; but now almost it seemed as if their glances were like blades from eye to eye, flickering84 as they fenced. Pippin trembled fearing some dreadful stroke. But suddenly Denethor relaxed and grew cold again. He shrugged85 his shoulders.
'If I had! If you had!' he said. 'Such words and ifs are vain. It has gone into the Shadow, and only time will show what doom86 awaits it and us. The time will not be long. In what is left, let all who fight the Enemy in their fashion be at one, and keep hope while they may, and after hope still the hardihood to die free.' He turned to Faramir. 'What think you of the garrison at Osgiliath?'
'It is not strong,' said Faramir. 'I have sent the company of Ithilien to strengthen it, as I have said.'
'Not enough, I deem,' said Denethor. 'It is there that the first blow will fall. They will have need of some stout88 captain there.'
'There and elsewhere in many places,' said Faramir, and sighed. 'Alas for my brother, whom I too loved!' He rose. 'May I have your leave, father?' And then he swayed and leaned upon his father's chair.
'You are weary, I see,' said Denethor. 'You have ridden fast and far, and under shadows of evil in the air, I am told.'
'Let us not speak of that!' said Faramir.
'Then we will not,' said Denethor. 'Go now and rest as you may. Tomorrow's need will be sterner.'
All now took leave of the Lord of the City and went to rest while they still could. Outside there was a starless blackness as Gandalf with Pippin beside him bearing a small torch, made his way to their lodging89. They did not speak until they were behind closed doors. Then at last Pippin took Gandalf's hand.
'Tell me,' he said, 'is there any hope? For Frodo, I mean; or at least mostly for Frodo.'
Gandalf put his hand on Pippin's head. 'There never was much hope,' he answered. 'Just a fool's hope, as I have been told. And when I heard of Cirith Ungol–––' He broke off and strode to the window as if his eyes could pierce the night in the East. 'Cirith Ungol!' he muttered. 'Why that way, I wonder?' He turned. 'Just now, Pippin, my heart almost failed me, hearing that name. And yet in truth I believe that the news that Faramir brings has some hope in it. For it seems clear that our Enemy has opened his war at last and made the first move while Frodo was still free. So now for many days he will have his eye turned this way and that, away from his own land. And yet, Pippin, I feel from afar his haste and fear. He has begun sooner than he would. Something has happened to stir him.'
Gandalf stood for a moment in thought. 'Maybe,' he muttered. 'Maybe even your foolishness helped, my lad. Let me see: some five days ago now he would discover that we had thrown down Saruman and had taken the Stone. Still what of that? We could not use it to much purpose, or without his knowing. Ah! I wonder. Aragorn? His time draws near. And he is strong and stern underneath90, Pippin; bold, determined, able to take his own counsel and dare great risks at need. That may be it. He may have used the Stone and shown himself to the Enemy, challenging him, for this very purpose. I wonder. Well, we shall not know the answer till the Riders of Rohan come, if they do not come too late. There are evil days ahead. To sleep while we may!'
'But,' said Pippin.
'But what?' said Gandalf. 'Only one but will I allow tonight.'
'Gollum,' said Pippin. 'How on earth could they be going about with him, even following him? And I could see that Faramir did not like the place he was taking them to any more than you do. What is wrong?'
'I cannot answer that now,' said Gandalf. 'Yet my heart guessed that Frodo and Gollum would meet before the end. For good, or for evil. But of Cirith Ungol I will not speak tonight. Treachery, treachery I fear; treachery of that miserable91 creature. But so it must be. Let us remember that a traitor92 may betray himself and do good that he does not intend. It can be so, sometimes. Good night! '
The next day came with a morning like a brown dusk, and the hearts of men, lifted for a while by the return of Faramir, sank low again. The winged Shadows were not seen again that day, yet ever and anon, high above the city, a faint cry would come, and many who heard it would stand stricken with a passing dread, while the less stout-hearted quailed93 and wept.
And now Faramir was gone again. 'They give him no rest,' some murmured. 'The Lord drives his son too hard, and now he must do the duty of two, for himself and for the one that will not return.' And ever men looked northward, asking: 'Where are the Riders of Rohan?'
In truth Faramir did not go by his own choosing. But the Lord of the City was master of his Council, and he was in no mood that day to bow to others. Early in the morning the Council had been summoned. There all the captains judged that because of the threat in the South their force was too weak to make any stroke of war on their own part, unless perchance the Riders of Rohan yet should come. Meanwhile they must man the walls and wait.
'Yet,' said Denethor, 'we should not lightly abandon the outer defences, the Rammas made with so great a labour. And the Enemy must pay dearly for the crossing of the River. That he cannot do, in force to assail56 the City, either north of Cair Andros because of the marshes95, or southwards towards Lebennin because of the breadth of the River, that needs many boats. It is at Osgiliath that he will put his weight, as before when Boromir denied him the passage.'
'That was but a trial,' said Faramir. 'Today we may make the Enemy pay ten times our loss at the passage and yet rue4 the exchange. For he can afford to lose a host better than we to lose a company. And the retreat of those that we put out far afield will be perilous, if he wins across in force.'
'And what of Cair Andros?' said the Prince. 'That, too, must be held, if Osgiliath is defended. Let us not forget the danger on our left. The Rohirrim may come, and they may not. But Faramir has told us of great strength drawing ever to the Black Gate. More than one host may issue from it, and strike for more than one passage.'
'Much must be risked in war,' said Denethor. 'Cair Andros is manned and no more can be sent so far. But I will not yield the River and the Pelennor unfought – not if there is a captain here who has still the courage to do his lord's will.'
Then all were silent, but at length Faramir said: 'I do not oppose your will, sire. Since you are robbed of Boromir, I will go and do what I can in his stead – if you command it.'
'I do so,' said Denethor.
'Then farewell!' said Faramir. 'But if I should return, think better of me!'
'That depends on the manner of your return,' said Denethor.
Gandalf it was that last spoke to Faramir ere he rode east. 'Do not throw your live away rashly or in bitterness,' he said. 'You will be needed here, for other things than war. Your father loves you, Faramir, and will remember it ere the end. Farewell!'
So now the Lord Faramir had gone forth96 again, and had taken with him such strength of men as were willing to go or could be spared. On the walls some gazed through the gloom towards the ruined city, and they wondered what chanced there, for nothing could be seen. And others, as ever, looked north and counted the leagues to Théoden in Rohan. 'Will he come? Will he remember our old alliance?' they said.
'Yes, he will come,' said Gandalf, 'even if he comes too late. But think! At best the Red Arrow cannot have reached him more than two days ago, and the miles are long from Edoras.'
It was night again ere news came. A man rode in haste from the fords, saying that a host had issued from Minas Morgul and was already drawing nigh to Osgiliath; and it had been joined by regiments97 from the South, Haradrim, cruel and tall. 'And we have learned ' said the messenger, 'that the Black Captain leads them once again, and the fear of him has passed before him over the River.'
With those ill-boding words the third day closed since Pippin came to Minas Tirith. Few went to rest, for small hope had any now that even Faramir could hold the fords for long.
The next day, though the darkness had reached its full and grew no deeper, it weighed heavier on men's hearts, and a great dread was on them. Ill news came soon again. The passage of Anduin was won by the Enemy. Faramir was retreating to the wall of the Pelennor, rallying his men to the Causeway Forts; but he was ten times outnumbered.
'If he wins back at all across the Pelennor, his enemies will be on his heels,' said the messenger. 'They have paid dear for the crossing but less dearly than we hoped. The plan has been well laid. It is now seen that in secret they have long been building floats and barges98 in great numbers in East Osgiliath. They swarmed99 across like beetles100. But it is the Black Captain that defeats us. Few will stand and abide101 even the rumour102 of his coming. His own folk quail94 at him, and they would slay103 themselves at his bidding.'
'Then I am needed there more than here,' said Gandalf, and rode off at once, and the glimmer104 of him faded soon from sight. And all that night Pippin alone and sleepless105 stood upon the wall and gazed eastward.
The bells of day had scarcely rung out again, a mockery in the unlightened dark, when far away he saw fires spring up, across in the dim spaces where the walls of the Pelennor stood. The watchmen cried aloud, and all men in the City stood to arms. Now ever and anon there was a red flash, and slowly through the heavy air dull rumbles106 could be heard.
'They have taken the wall!' men cried. 'They are blasting breaches107 in it. They are coming!'
'Where is Faramir?' cried Beregond in dismay. 'Say not that he has fallen!'
It was Gandalf that brought the first tidings. With a handful of horsemen he came in the middle morning, riding as escort to a line of wains. They were filled with wounded men, all that could be saved from the wreck108 of the Causeway Forts. At once he went to Denethor. The Lord of the City sat now in a high chamber above the Hall of the White Tower with Pippin at his side; and through the dim windows, north and south and east, he bent109 his dark eyes, as if to pierce the shadows of doom that ringed him round. Most to the north he looked, and would pause at whiles to listen as if by some ancient art his ears might hear the thunder of hoofs110 on the plains far away.
'Is Faramir come?' he asked.
'No,' said Gandalf. 'But he still lived when I left him. Yet he is resolved to stay with the rearguard, lest the retreat over the Pelennor become a rout111. He may, perhaps, hold his men together long enough, but I doubt it. He is pitted against a foe112 too great. For one has come that I feared.'
'Not – the Dark Lord?' cried Pippin, forgetting his place in his terror.
Denethor laughed bitterly. 'Nay, not yet, Master Peregrin! He will not come save only to triumph over me when all is won. He uses others as his weapons. So do all great lords, if they are wise, Master Halfling. Or why should I sit here in my tower and think, and watch, and wait, spending even my sons? For I can still wield113 a brand.'
He stood up and cast open his long black cloak, and behold114! he was clad in mail beneath, and girt with a long sword, great-hilted in a sheath of black and silver. 'Thus have I walked, and thus now for many years have I slept,' he said, 'lest with age the body should grow soft and timid.'
'Yet now under the Lord of Barad-d?r the most fell of all his captains is already master of your outer walls,' said Gandalf. 'King of Angmar long ago, Sorcerer, Ringwraith, Lord of the Nazg?l, a spear of terror in the hand of Sauron, shadow of despair.'
'Then, Mithrandir, you had a foe to match you,' said Denethor. 'For myself, I have long known who is the chief captain of the hosts of the Dark Tower. Is this all that you have returned to say? Or can it be that you have withdrawn115 because you are overmatched?'
Pippin trembled, fearing that Gandalf would be stung to sudden wrath, but his fear was needless. 'It might be so,' Gandalf answered softly. 'But our trial of strength is not yet come. And if words spoken of old be true, not by the hand of man shall he fall, and hidden from the Wise is the doom that awaits him. However that may be, the Captain of Despair does not press forward, yet. He rules rather according to the wisdom that you have just spoken, from the rear, driving his slaves in madness on before.
'Nay, I came rather to guard the hurt men that can yet be healed; for the Rammas is breached117 far and wide, and soon the host of Morgul will enter in at many points. And I came chiefly to say this. Soon there will be battle on the fields. A sortie must be made ready. Let it be of mounted men. In them lies our brief hope, for in one thing only is the enemy still poorly provided: he has few horsemen.'
'And we also have few. Now would the coming of Rohan be in the nick of time,' said Denethor.
'We are likely to see other newcomers first,' said Gandalf. 'Fugitives118 from Cair Andros have already reached us. The isle has fallen. Another army is come from the Black Gate, crossing from the north-east.'
'Some have accused you, Mithrandir, of delighting to bear ill news,' said Denethor, 'but to me this is no longer news: it was known to mw ere nightfall yesterday. As for the sortie, I had already given thought to it. Let us go down.'
Time passed. At length watchers on the walls could see the retreat of the out-companies. Small bands of weary and often wounded men came first with little order; some were running wildly as if pursued. Away to the eastward the distant fires flickered119; and now it seemed that here and there they crept across the plain. Houses and barns were burning. Then from many points little rivers of red flame came hurrying on, winding through the gloom, converging towards the line of the broad road that led from the City-gate to Osgiliath.
'The enemy,' men murmured. 'The dike120 is down. Here they come pouring through the breaches! And they carry torches, it seems. Where are our own folk?'
It drew now to evening by the hour, and the light was so dim that even far-sighted men upon the Citadel could discern little clearly out upon the fields, save only the burnings that ever multiplied, and the lines of fire that grew in length and speed. At last, less than a mile from the City, a more ordered mass of men came into view, marching not running, still holding together.
The watchers held their breath. 'Faramir must be there,' they said. 'He can govern man and beast. He will make it yet.'
Now the main retreat was scarcely two furlongs distant. Out of the gloom behind a small company of horsemen galloped121, all that was left of the rearguard. Once again they turned at bay, facing the oncoming lines of fire. Then suddenly there was a tumult123 of fierce cries. Horsemen of the enemy swept up. The lines of fire became flowing torrents124, file upon file of Orcs bearing flames, and wild Southron men with red banners, shouting with harsh tongues, surging up, overtaking the retreat. And with a piercing cry out of the dim sky fell the winged shadows, the Nazg?l stooping to the kill.
The retreat became a rout. Already men were breaking away, flying wild and witless here and there, flinging away their weapons, crying out in fear, falling to the ground.
And then a trumpet rang from the Citadel, and Denethor at last released the sortie. Drawn116 up within the shadow of the Gate and under the looming125 walls outside they had waited for his signal: all the mounted men that were left in the City. Now they sprang forward, formed, quickened to a gallop122, and charged with a great shout. And from the walls an answering shout went up; for foremost on the field rode the swan-knights126 of Dol Amroth with their Prince and his blue banner at their head.
'Amroth for Gondor!' they cried. 'Amroth to Faramir!'
Like thunder they broke upon the enemy on either flank of the retreat; but one rider outran them all, swift as the wind in the grass: Shadowfax bore him, shining, unveiled once more, a light starting from his upraised hand.
The Nazg?l screeched127 and swept away, for their Captain was not yet come to challenge the white fire of his foe. The hosts of Morgul intent on their prey128, taken at unawares in wild career, broke, scattering129 like sparks in a gale130. The out-companies with a great cheer turned and smote131 their pursuers. Hunters became the hunted. The retreat became an onslaught. The field was strewn with stricken orcs and men, and a reek132 arose of torches cast away, sputtering133 out in swirling134 smoke. The cavalry135 rode on.
But Denethor did not permit them to go far. Though the enemy was checked, and for the moment driven back, great forces were flowing in from the East. Again the trumpet rang, sounding the retreat. The cavalry of Gondor halted. Behind their screen the out-companies re-formed. Now steadily they came marching back. They reached the Gate of the City and entered, stepping proudly: and proudly the people of the City looked on them and cried their praise, and yet they were troubled in heart. For the companies were grievously reduced. Faramir had lost a third of his men. And where was he?
Last of all he came. His men passed in. The mounted knights returned, and at their rear the banner of Dol Amroth, and the Prince. And in his arms before him on his horse he bore the body of his kinsman136, Faramir son of Denethor, found upon the stricken field.
'Faramir! Faramir!' men cried, weeping in the streets. But he did not answer, and they bore him away up the winding road to the Citadel and his father. Even as the Nazg?l had swerved aside from the onset of the White Rider, there came flying a deadly dart137, and Faramir, as he held at bay a mounted champion of Harad, had fallen to the earth. Only the charge of Dol Amroth had saved him from the red southland swords that would have hewed138 him as he lay.
The Prince Imrahil brought Faramir to the White Tower, and he said: Your son has returned, lord, after great deeds, and he told all that he had seen. But Denethor rose and looked on the face of his son and was silent. Then he bade them make a bed in the chamber and lay Faramir upon it and depart. But he himself went up alone into the secret room under the summit of the Tower; and many who looked up thither139 at that time saw a pale light that gleamed and flickered from the narrow windows for a while, and then flashed and went out. And when Denethor descended140 again he went to Faramir and sat beside him without speaking, but the face of the Lord was grey, more deathlike than his son's.
So now at last the City was besieged141, enclosed in a ring of foes142. The Rammas was broken, and all the Pelennor abandoned to the Enemy. The last word to come from outside the walls was brought by men flying down the northward road ere the Gate was shut. They were the remnant of the guard that was kept at that point where the way from Anórien and Rohan ran into the townlands: Ingold led them, the same who had admitted Gandalf and Pippin less than five days before, while the sun still rose and there was hope in the morning.
'There is no news of the Rohirrim,' he said. 'Rohan will not come now. Or if they come, it will not avail us. The new host that we had tidings of has come first, from over the River by way of Andros, it is said. They are strong: battalions143 of Orcs of the Eye, and countless144 companies of Men of a new sort that we have not met before. Not tall, but broad and grim, bearded like dwarves145, wielding146 great axes. Out of some savage147 land in the wide East they come, we deem. They hold the northward road; and many have passed on into Anórien. The Rohirrim cannot come.'
The Gate was shut. All night watchmen on the walls heard the rumour of the enemy that roamed outside, burning field and tree, and hewing148 any man that they found abroad, living or dead. The numbers that had already passed over the River could not be guessed in the darkness, but when morning, or its dim shadow, stole over the plain, it was seen that even fear by night had scarcely over-counted them. The plain was dark with their marching companies, and as far as eyes could strain in the mirk there sprouted149, like a foul fungus-growth, all about the beleaguered150 city great camps of tents, black or sombre red.
Busy as ants hurrying orcs were digging, digging lines of deep trenches151 in a huge ring, just out of bowshot from the walls; and as the trenches were made each was filled with fire, though how it was kindled153 or fed, by art or devilry, none could see. All day the labour went forward, while the men of Minas Tirith looked on, unable to hinder it. And as each length of trench152 was completed, they could see great wains approaching; and soon yet more companies of the enemy were swiftly setting up, each behind the cover of a trench, great engines for the casting of missiles. There were none upon the City walls large enough to reach so far or to stay the work.
At first men laughed and did not greatly fear such devices. For the main wall of the City was of great height and marvellous thickness, built ere the power and craft of Númenor waned154 in exile; and its outward face was like to the Tower of Orthanc, hard and dark and smooth, unconquerable by steel or fire, unbreakable except by some convulsion that would rend155 the very earth on which it stood.
'Nay,' they said, 'not if the Nameless One himself should come, not even he could enter here while we yet live.' But some answered: 'While we yet live? How long? He has a weapon that has brought low many strong places since the world began. Hunger. The roads are cut. Rohan will not come.'
But the engines did not waste shot upon the indomitable wall. It was no brigand156 or orc-chieftain that ordered the assault upon the Lord of Mordor's greatest foe. A power and mind of malice guided it. As soon as the great catapults were set, with many yells and the creaking of rope and winch, they began to throw missiles marvellously high, so that they passed right above the battlement and fell thudding within the first circle of the City; and many of them by some secret art burst into flame as they came toppling down.
Soon there was great peril of fire behind the wall, and all who could be spared were busy quelling157 the flames that sprang up in many places. Then among the greater casts there fell another hail, less ruinous but more horrible. All about the streets and lanes behind the Gate it tumbled down, small round shot that did not burn. But when men ran to learn what it might be, they cried aloud or wept. For the enemy was flinging into the City all the heads of those who had fallen fighting at Osgiliath, or on the Rammas, or in the fields. They were grim to look on; for though some were crushed and shapeless, and some had been cruelly hewn, yet many had features that could be told, and it seemed that they had died in pain; and all were branded with the foul token of the Lidless Eye. But marred158 and dishonoured159 as they were, it often chanced that thus a man would see again the face of someone that he had known, who had walked proudly once in arms, or tilled the fields, or ridden in upon a holiday from the green vales in the hills.
In vain men shook their fists at the pitiless foes that swarmed before the Gate. Curses they heeded10 not, nor understood the tongues of western men; crying with harsh voices like beasts and carrion-birds. But soon there were few left in Minas Tirith who had the heart to stand up and defy the hosts of Mordor. For yet another weapon, swifter than hunger, the Lord of the Dark Tower had: dread and despair.
The Nazg?l came again, and as their Dark Lord now grew and put forth his strength, so their voices, which uttered only his will and his malice, were filled with evil and horror. Ever they circled above the City, like vultures that expect their fill of doomed160 men's flesh. Out of sight and shot they flew, and yet were ever present, and their deadly voices rent the air. More unbearable161 they became, not less, at each new cry. At length even the stout-hearted would fling themselves to the ground as the hidden menace passed over them, or they would stand, letting their weapons fall from nerveless hands while into their minds a blackness came, and they thought no more of war, but only of hiding and of crawling, and of death.
During all this black day Faramir lay upon his bed in the chamber of the White Tower, wandering in a desperate fever; dying someone said, and soon 'dying' all men were saying upon the walls and in the streets. And by him his father sat, and said nothing, but watched, and gave no longer any heed11 to the defence.
No hours so dark had Pippin known, not even in the clutches of the Uruk-hai. It was his duty to wait upon the Lord, and wait he did, forgotten it seemed, standing by the door of the unlit chamber, mastering his own fears as best he could. And as he watched, it seemed to him that Denethor grew old before his eyes, as if something had snapped in his proud will, and his stern mind was overthrown. Grief maybe had wrought162 it, and remorse163. He saw tears on that once tearless face, more unbearable than wrath.
'Do not weep, lord,' he stammered164. 'Perhaps he will get well. Have you asked Gandalf?'
'Comfort me not with wizards!' said Denethor. 'The fool's hope has failed. The Enemy has found it, and now his power waxes; he sees our very thoughts, and all we do is ruinous.
'I sent my son forth, unthanked, unblessed, out into needless peril, and here he lies with poison in his veins165. Nay, nay, whatever may now betide in war, my line too is ending, even the House of the Stewards166 has failed. Mean folk shall rule the last remnant of the Kings of Men, lurking167 in the hills until all are hounded out.'
Men came to the door crying for the Lord of the City. 'Nay, I will not come down,' he said. 'I must stay beside my son. He might still speak before the end. But that is near. Follow whom you will, even the Grey Fool, though his hope has failed. Here I stay.'
So it was that Gandalf took command of the last defence of the City of Gondor. Wherever he came men's hearts would lift again, and the winged shadows pass from memory. Tirelessly he strode from Citadel to Gate, from north to south about the wall; and with him went the Prince of Dol Amroth in his shining mail. For he and his knights still held themselves like lords in whom the race of Númenor ran true. Men that saw them whispered saying: 'Belike the old tales speak well; there is Elvish blood in the veins of that folk, for the people of Nimrodel dwelt in that land once long ago.' And then one would sing amid the gloom some staves of the Lay of Nimrodel, or other songs of the Vale of Anduin out of vanished years.
And yet – when they had gone, the shadows closed on men again, and their hearts went cold, and the valour of Gondor withered168 into ash. And so slowly they passed out of a dim day of fears into the darkness of a desperate night. Fires now raged unchecked in the first circle of the City, and the garrison upon the outer wall was already in many places cut off from retreat. But the faithful who remained there at their posts were few; most had fled beyond the second gate.
Far behind the battle the River had been swiftly bridged, and all day more force and gear of war had poured across. Now at last in the middle night the assault was loosed. The vanguard passed through the trenches of fire by many devious169 paths that had been left between them. On they came, reckless of their loss as they approached, still bunched and herded170, within the range of bowmen on the wall. But indeed there were too few now left there to do them great damage, though the light of the fires showed up many a mark for archers171 of such skill as Gondor once had boasted. Then perceiving that the valour of the City was already beaten down, the hidden Captain put forth his strength. Slowly the great siege-towers built in Osgiliath rolled forward through the dark.
Messengers came again to the chamber in the White Tower, and Pippin let them enter, for they were urgent. Denethor turned his head slowly from Faramir's face, and looked at them silently.
'The first circle of the City is burning, lord,' they said. 'What are your commands? You are still the Lord and Steward. Not all will follow Mithrandir. Men are flying from the walls and leaving them unmanned.'
'Why? Why do the fools fly?' said Denethor. 'Better to burn sooner than late, for burn we must. Go back to your bonfire! And I? I will go now to my pyre. To my pyre! No tomb for Denethor and Faramir. No tomb! No long slow sleep of death embalmed172. We will burn like heathen kings before ever a ship sailed hither from the West. The West has failed. Go back and burn!'
The messengers without bow or answer turned and fled.
Now Denethor stood up and released the fevered hand of Faramir that he had held. 'He is burning, already burning,' he said sadly. 'The house of his spirit crumbles173.' Then stepping softly towards Pippin he looked down at him.
'Farewell!' he said. 'Farewell, Peregrin son of Paladin! Your service has been short, and now it is drawing to an end. I release you from the little that remains174. Go now, and die in what way seems best to you. And with whom you will, even that friend whose folly175 brought you to this death. Send for my servants and then go. Farewell!'
'I will not say farewell, my lord,' said Pippin kneeling. And then suddenly hobbit-like once more, he stood up and looked the old man in the eyes. 'I will take your leave, sir,' he said; 'for I want to see Gandalf very much indeed. But he is no fool; and I will not think of dying until he despairs of life. But from my word and your service I do not wish to be released while you live. And if they come at last to the Citadel, I hope to be here and stand beside you and earn perhaps the arms that you have given me.'
'Do as you will, Master Halfling,' said Denethor. 'But my life is broken. Send for my servants!' He turned back to Faramir.
Pippin left him and called for the servants, and they came: six men of the household, strong and fair; yet they trembled at the summons. But in a quiet voice Denethor bade them lay warm coverlets on Faramir's bed and take it up. And they did so, and lifting up the bed they bore it from the chamber. Slowly they paced to trouble the fevered man as little as might be, and Denethor, now bending on a staff, followed them; and last came Pippin.
Out from the White Tower they walked, as if to a funeral, out into the darkness, where the overhanging cloud was lit beneath with flickers176 of dull red. Softly they paced the great courtyard, and at a word from Denethor halted beside the Withered Tree.
All was silent, save for the rumour of war in the City down below, and they heard the water dripping sadly from the dead branches into the dark pool. Then they went on through the Citadel gate, where the sentinel stared at them in wonder and dismay as they passed by. Turning westward they came at length to a door in the rearward wall of the sixth circle. Fen37 Hollen it was called, for it was kept ever shut save at times of funeral, and only the Lord of the City might use that way, or those who bore the token of the tombs and tended the houses of the dead. Beyond it went a winding road that descended in many curves down to the narrow land under the shadow of Mindolluin's precipice177 where stood the mansions178 of the dead Kings and of their Stewards.
A porter sat in a little house beside the way, and with fear in his eyes he came forth bearing a lantern in his hand. At the Lord's command he unlocked the door, and silently it swung back; and they passed through, taking the lantern from his hand. It was dark on the climbing road between ancient walls and many-pillared balusters looming in the swaying lantern-beam. Their slow feet echoed as they walked down, down, until at last they came to the Silent Street, Rath Dínen, between pale domes179 and empty halls and images of men long dead; and they entered into the House of the Stewards and set down their burden.
There Pippin, staring uneasily about him, saw that he was in a wide vaulted180 chamber, draped as it were with the great shadows that the little lantern threw upon its shrouded181 walls. And dimly to be seen were many rows of tables, carved of marble; and upon each table lay a sleeping form, hands folded, head pillowed upon stone. But one table near at hand stood broad and bare. Upon it at a sign from Denethor they laid Faramir and his father side by side, and covered them with one covering, and stood then with bowed heads as mourners beside a bed of death. Then Denethor spoke in a low voice.
'Here we will wait,' he said. 'But send not for the embalmers. Bring us wood quick to burn, and lay it all about us, and beneath; and pour oil upon it. And when I bid you thrust in a torch. Do this and speak no more to me. Farewell!'
'By your leave, lord!' said Pippin and turned and fled in terror from the deathly house. 'Poor Faramir!' he thought. 'I must find Gandalf. Poor Faramir! Quite likely he needs medicine more than tears. Oh, where can I find Gandalf? In the thick of things, I suppose; and he will have no time to spare for dying men or madmen.'
At the door he turned to one of the servants who had remained on guard there. 'Your master is not himself,' he said. 'Go slow! Bring no fire to this place while Faramir lives! Do nothing until Gandalf comes!'
'Who is the master of Minas Tirith?' the man answered. 'The Lord Denethor or the Grey Wanderer?'
'The Grey Wanderer or no one, it would seem,' said Pippin, and he sped back and up the winding way as swiftly as his feet would carry him, past the astonished porter, out through the door, and on, till he came near the gate of the Citadel. The sentinel hailed him as he went by, and he recognized the voice of Beregond.
'Whither do you run, Master Peregrin?' he cried.
'To find Mithrandir,' Pippin answered.
'The Lord's errands are urgent and should not be hindered by me,' said Beregond; 'but tell me quickly, if you may: what goes forward? Whither has my Lord gone? I have just come on duty, but I heard that he passed towards the Closed Door, and men were bearing Faramir before him.'
'Yes,' said Pippin, 'to the Silent Street.'
Beregond bowed his head to hide his tears. 'They said that he was dying,' he sighed, 'and now he is dead.'
'No,' said Pippin, 'not yet. And even now his death might be prevented, I think. But the Lord of the City, Beregond, has fallen before his city is taken. He is fey and dangerous.' Quickly he told of Denethor's strange words and deeds. 'I must find Gandalf at once.'
'Then you must go down to the battle.'
'I know. The Lord has given me leave. But, Beregond, if you can, do something to stop any dreadful thing happening.'
'The Lord does not permit those who wear the black and silver to leave their post for any cause, save at his own command.'
'Well, you must choose between orders and the life of Faramir,' said Pippin. 'And as for orders, I think you have a madman to deal with, not a lord. I must run. I will return if I can.'
He ran on, down, down towards the outer city. Men flying back from the burning passed him, and some seeing his livery turned and shouted, but he paid no heed. At last he was through the Second Gate, beyond which great fires leaped up between the walls. Yet it seemed strangely silent. No noise or shouts of battle or din9 of arms could be heard. Then suddenly there was a dreadful cry and a great shock, and a deep echoing boom. Forcing himself on against a gust182 of fear and horror that shook him almost to his knees. Pippin turned a corner opening on the wide place behind the City Gate. He stopped dead. He had found Gandalf; but he shrank back, cowering183 into a shadow.
Ever since the middle night the great assault had gone on. The drums rolled. To the north and to the south company upon company of the enemy pressed to the walls. There came great beasts, like moving houses in the red and fitful light, the m?makil of the Harad dragging through the lanes amid the fires huge towers and engines. Yet their Captain cared not greatly what they did or how many might be slain184: their purpose was only to test the strength of the defence and to keep the men of Gondor busy in many places. It was against the Gate that he would throw his heaviest weight. Very strong it might be, wrought of steel and iron, and guarded with towers and bastions of indomitable stone, yet it was the key, the weakest point in all that high and impenetrable wall.
The drums rolled louder. Fires leaped up. Great engines crawled across the field; and in the midst was a huge ram33, great as a forest-tree a hundred feet in length, swinging on mighty chains. Long had it been forging in the dark smithies of Mordor, and its hideous185 head, founded of black steel, was shaped in the likeness186 of a ravening187 wolf; on it spells of ruin lay. Grond they named it, in memory of the Hammer of the Underworld of old. Great beasts drew it, Orcs surrounded it, and behind walked mountain-trolls to wield it.
But about the Gate resistance still was stout, and there the knights of Dol Amroth and the hardiest188 of the garrison stood at bay. Shot and dart fell thick; siege-towers crashed or blazed suddenly like torches. All before the walls on either side of the Gate the ground was choked with wreck and with bodies of the slain; yet still driven as by a madness more and more came up.
Grond crawled on. Upon its housing no fire would catch; and though now and again some great beast that hauled it would go mad and spread stamping ruin among the orcs innumerable that guarded it, their bodies were cast aside from its path and others took their place.
Grond crawled on. The drums rolled wildly. Over the hills of slain a hideous shape appeared: a horseman, tall, hooded189, cloaked in black. Slowly, trampling190 the fallen, he rode forth, heeding191 no longer any dart. He halted and held up a long pale sword. And as he did so a great fear fell on all, defender192 and foe alike; and the hands of men drooped193 to their sides, and no bow sang. For a moment all was still.
The drums rolled and rattled194. With a vast rush Grond was hurled195 forward by huge hands. It reached the Gate. It swung. A deep boom rumbled196 through the City like thunder running in the clouds. But the doors of iron and posts of steel withstood the stroke.
Then the Black Captain rose in his stirrups and cried aloud in a dreadful voice, speaking in some forgotten tongue words of power and terror to rend both heart and stone.
Thrice he cried. Thrice the great ram boomed. And suddenly upon the last stroke the Gate of Gondor broke. As if stricken by some blasting spell it burst asunder197: there was a flash of searing lightning, and the doors tumbled in riven fragments to the ground.
In rode the Lord of the Nazg?l. A great black shape against the fires beyond he loomed198 up, grown to a vast menace of despair. In rode the Lord of the Nazg?l, under the archway that no enemy ever yet had passed, and all fled before his face.
All save one. There waiting, silent and still in the space before the Gate, sat Gandalf upon Shadowfax: Shadowfax who alone among the free horses of the earth endured the terror, unmoving, steadfast199 as a graven image in Rath Dínen.
'You cannot enter here,' said Gandalf, and the huge shadow halted. 'Go back to the abyss prepared for you! Go back! Fall into the nothingness that awaits you and your Master. Go!'
The Black Rider flung back his hood87, and behold! he had a kingly crown; and yet upon no head visible was it set. The red fires shone between it and the mantled200 shoulders vast and dark. From a mouth unseen there came a deadly laughter.
'Old fool!' he said. 'Old fool! This is my hour. Do you not know Death when you see it? Die now and curse in vain!' And with that he lifted high his sword and flames ran down the blade.
Gandalf did not move. And in that very moment, away behind in some courtyard of the City, a cock crowed. Shrill201 and clear he crowed, recking nothing of wizardry or war, welcoming only the morning that in the sky far above the shadows of death was coming with the dawn.
And as if in answer there came from far away another note. Horns, horns, horns. In dark Mindolluin's sides they dimly echoed. Great horns of the North wildly blowing. Rohan had come at last.
收听单词发音 |
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chamber
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| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
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twilight
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| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
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3
doled
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| 救济物( dole的过去式和过去分词 )； 失业救济金 | |
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4
rue
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| n.懊悔，芸香，后悔；v.后悔，悲伤，懊悔 | |
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5
inadequate
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| adj.(for,to)不充足的，不适当的 | |
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6
mischief
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| n.损害，伤害，危害；恶作剧，捣蛋，胡闹 | |
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7
beckoned
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| v.（用头或手的动作）示意，召唤( beckon的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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8
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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9
din
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| n.喧闹声，嘈杂声 | |
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10
heeded
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| v.听某人的劝告，听从( heed的过去式和过去分词 )；变平，使（某物）变平( flatten的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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11
heed
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| v.注意，留意；n.注意，留心 | |
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12
liking
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| n.爱好；嗜好；喜欢 | |
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13
garrison
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| n.卫戍部队；驻地，卫戍区；vt.派(兵)驻防 | |
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14
relish
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| n.滋味，享受，爱好，调味品；vt.加调味料，享受，品味；vi.有滋味 | |
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15
rustic
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| adj.乡村的，有乡村特色的；n.乡下人，乡巴佬 | |
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16
ordeal
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| n.苦难经历，（尤指对品格、耐力的）严峻考验 | |
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17
marvelled
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| v.惊奇，对…感到惊奇( marvel的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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18
citadel
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| n.城堡；堡垒；避难所 | |
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19
westward
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| n.西方，西部；adj.西方的，向西的；adv.向西 | |
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20
devouring
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| 吞没( devour的现在分词 )； 耗尽； 津津有味地看； 狼吞虎咽地吃光 | |
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21
onset
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| n.进攻，袭击，开始，突然开始 | |
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22
imprisoned
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| 下狱，监禁( imprison的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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23
stifled
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| （使）窒息， （使）窒闷( stifle的过去式和过去分词 )； 镇压，遏制； 堵 | |
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24
eastward
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| adv.向东；adj.向东的；n.东方，东部 | |
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25
pall
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| v.覆盖，使平淡无味；n.柩衣，棺罩；棺材；帷幕 | |
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26
touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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27
peril
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| n.(严重的)危险；危险的事物 | |
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28
perils
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| 极大危险( peril的名词复数 )； 危险的事（或环境） | |
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29
nay
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| adv.不；n.反对票，投反对票者 | |
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30
malice
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| n.恶意，怨恨，蓄意；[律]预谋 | |
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31
broil
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| v.烤，烧，争吵，怒骂；n.烤，烧，争吵，怒骂 | |
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32
fume
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| n.(usu pl.)(浓烈或难闻的)烟，气，汽 | |
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33
ram
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| (random access memory)随机存取存储器 | |
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34
cowered
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| v.畏缩，抖缩( cower的过去式 ) | |
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35
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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36
stiffened
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| 加强的 | |
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37
fen
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| n.沼泽，沼池 | |
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38
shuddering
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| v.战栗( shudder的现在分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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39
hatred
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| n.憎恶，憎恨，仇恨 | |
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40
swooped
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| 俯冲，猛冲( swoop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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41
swoop
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| n.俯冲，攫取；v.抓取，突然袭击 | |
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42
screech
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| n./v.尖叫；(发出)刺耳的声音 | |
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43
winding
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| n.绕，缠，绕组，线圈 | |
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44
trumpet
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| n.喇叭，喇叭声；v.吹喇叭，吹嘘 | |
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45
foul
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| adj.污秽的；邪恶的；v.弄脏；妨害；犯规；n.犯规 | |
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46
converging
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| adj.收敛[缩]的，会聚的，趋同的v.（线条、运动的物体等）会于一点( converge的现在分词 )；（趋于）相似或相同；人或车辆汇集；聚集 | |
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47
onlooker
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| n.旁观者，观众 | |
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48
swooping
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| 俯冲，猛冲( swoop的现在分词 ) | |
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49
shaft
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| n.(工具的)柄，杆状物 | |
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50
upwards
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| adv.向上，在更高处...以上 | |
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51
wailing
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| v.哭叫，哀号( wail的现在分词 )；沱 | |
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52
swerved
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| v.（使）改变方向，改变目的( swerve的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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53
steward
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| n.乘务员，服务员；看管人；膳食管理员 | |
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54
grooms
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| n.新郎( groom的名词复数 )；马夫v.照料或梳洗（马等）( groom的第三人称单数 )；使做好准备；训练；（给动物）擦洗 | |
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55
steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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56
assail
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| v.猛烈攻击，抨击，痛斥 | |
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57
assailed
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| v.攻击( assail的过去式和过去分词 )；困扰；质问；毅然应对 | |
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58
anguish
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| n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦，烦恼 | |
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59
kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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60
catching
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| adj.易传染的，有魅力的，迷人的，接住 | |
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61
charcoal
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| n.炭，木炭，生物炭 | |
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62
draught
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| n.拉，牵引，拖；一网（饮，吸，阵)；顿服药量，通风；v.起草，设计 | |
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63
overthrown
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| adj. 打翻的，推倒的，倾覆的 动词overthrow的过去分词 | |
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64
renown
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| n.声誉，名望 | |
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65
exclamation
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| n.感叹号，惊呼，惊叹词 | |
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66
determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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67
isle
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| n.小岛，岛 | |
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68
northward
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| adv.向北；n.北方的地区 | |
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69
skilfully
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| adv. (美skillfully)熟练地 | |
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70
fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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71
wont
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| adj.习惯于；v.习惯；n.习惯 | |
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72
riddles
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| n.谜（语）( riddle的名词复数 )；猜不透的难题，难解之谜 | |
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73
alas
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| int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
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74
displeases
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| 冒犯，使生气，使不愉快( displease的第三人称单数 ) | |
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75
squandered
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| v.（指钱，财产等）浪费，乱花( squander的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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76
mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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77
subtleties
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| 细微( subtlety的名词复数 )； 精细； 巧妙； 细微的差别等 | |
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78
lore
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| n.传说；学问，经验，知识 | |
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79
follies
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| 罪恶，时事讽刺剧； 愚蠢，蠢笨，愚蠢的行为、思想或做法( folly的名词复数 ) | |
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80
perilous
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| adj.危险的，冒险的 | |
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81
vaults
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| n.拱顶( vault的名词复数 )；地下室；撑物跳高；墓穴 | |
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82
dread
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| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
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83
wrath
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| n.愤怒，愤慨，暴怒 | |
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84
flickering
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| adj.闪烁的，摇曳的，一闪一闪的 | |
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85
shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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86
doom
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| n.厄运，劫数；v.注定，命定 | |
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87
hood
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| n.头巾，兜帽，覆盖；v.罩上，以头巾覆盖 | |
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89
lodging
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| n.寄宿，住所；(大学生的)校外宿舍 | |
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90
underneath
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| adj.在...下面，在...底下；adv.在下面 | |
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91
miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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92
traitor
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| n.叛徒，卖国贼 | |
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93
quailed
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| 害怕，发抖，畏缩( quail的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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94
quail
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| n.鹌鹑；vi.畏惧，颤抖 | |
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95
marshes
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| n.沼泽，湿地( marsh的名词复数 ) | |
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96
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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97
regiments
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| （军队的）团( regiment的名词复数 )； 大量的人或物 | |
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98
barges
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| 驳船( barge的名词复数 ) | |
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99
swarmed
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| 密集( swarm的过去式和过去分词 )； 云集； 成群地移动； 蜜蜂或其他飞行昆虫成群地飞来飞去 | |
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100
beetles
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| n.甲虫( beetle的名词复数 ) | |
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101
abide
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| vi.遵守；坚持；vt.忍受 | |
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102
rumour
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| n.谣言，谣传，传闻 | |
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103
slay
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| v.杀死，宰杀，杀戮 | |
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104
glimmer
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| v.发出闪烁的微光；n.微光，微弱的闪光 | |
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105
sleepless
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| adj.不睡眠的，睡不著的，不休息的 | |
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106
rumbles
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| 隆隆声，辘辘声( rumble的名词复数 ) | |
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107
breaches
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| 破坏( breach的名词复数 )； 破裂； 缺口； 违背 | |
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108
wreck
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| n.失事，遇难；沉船；vt.(船等)失事，遇难 | |
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109
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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110
hoofs
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| n.（兽的）蹄，马蹄( hoof的名词复数 )v.（兽的）蹄，马蹄( hoof的第三人称单数 ) | |
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111
rout
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| n.溃退，溃败；v.击溃，打垮 | |
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112
foe
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| n.敌人，仇敌 | |
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113
wield
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| vt.行使，运用，支配；挥，使用(武器等) | |
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114
behold
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| v.看，注视，看到 | |
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115
withdrawn
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| vt.收回；使退出；vi.撤退，退出 | |
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116
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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117
breached
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| 攻破( breach的现在分词 )； 破坏，违反 | |
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118
fugitives
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| n.亡命者，逃命者( fugitive的名词复数 ) | |
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119
flickered
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| （通常指灯光）闪烁，摇曳( flicker的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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120
dike
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| n.堤，沟；v.开沟排水 | |
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121
galloped
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| （使马）飞奔，奔驰( gallop的过去式和过去分词 )； 快速做[说]某事 | |
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122
gallop
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| v./n.(马或骑马等)飞奔；飞速发展 | |
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123
tumult
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| n.喧哗；激动，混乱；吵闹 | |
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124
torrents
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| n.倾注；奔流( torrent的名词复数 )；急流；爆发；连续不断 | |
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125
looming
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| n.上现蜃景（光通过低层大气发生异常折射形成的一种海市蜃楼）v.隐约出现，阴森地逼近( loom的现在分词 )；隐约出现，阴森地逼近 | |
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126
knights
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| 骑士； （中古时代的）武士( knight的名词复数 )； 骑士； 爵士； （国际象棋中）马 | |
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127
screeched
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| v.发出尖叫声( screech的过去式和过去分词 )；发出粗而刺耳的声音；高叫 | |
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128
prey
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| n.被掠食者，牺牲者，掠食；v.捕食，掠夺，折磨 | |
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129
scattering
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| n.[物]散射；散乱，分散；在媒介质中的散播adj.散乱的；分散在不同范围的；广泛扩散的；（选票）数量分散的v.散射(scatter的ing形式)；散布；驱散 | |
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130
gale
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| n.大风，强风，一阵闹声（尤指笑声等） | |
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131
smote
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| v.猛打，重击，打击( smite的过去式 ) | |
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132
reek
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| v.发出臭气；n.恶臭 | |
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133
sputtering
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| n.反应溅射法；飞溅；阴极真空喷镀；喷射v.唾沫飞溅( sputter的现在分词 )；发劈啪声；喷出；飞溅出 | |
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134
swirling
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| v.旋转，打旋( swirl的现在分词 ) | |
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135
cavalry
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| n.骑兵；轻装甲部队 | |
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136
kinsman
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| n.男亲属 | |
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137
dart
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| v.猛冲，投掷；n.飞镖，猛冲 | |
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138
hewed
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| v.（用斧、刀等）砍、劈( hew的过去式和过去分词 )；砍成；劈出；开辟 | |
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139
thither
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| adv.向那里；adj.在那边的，对岸的 | |
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140
descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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141
besieged
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| 包围，围困，围攻( besiege的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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142
foes
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| 敌人，仇敌( foe的名词复数 ) | |
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143
battalions
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| n.（陆军的）一营（大约有一千兵士）( battalion的名词复数 )；协同作战的部队；军队；（组织在一起工作的）队伍 | |
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144
countless
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| adj.无数的，多得不计其数的 | |
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145
dwarves
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| n.矮子( dwarf的名词复数 )；有魔法的小矮人 | |
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146
wielding
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| 手持着使用（武器、工具等）( wield的现在分词 )； 具有； 运用（权力）； 施加（影响） | |
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147
savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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148
hewing
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| v.（用斧、刀等）砍、劈( hew的现在分词 )；砍成；劈出；开辟 | |
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149
sprouted
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| v.发芽( sprout的过去式和过去分词 )；抽芽；出现；（使）涌现出 | |
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150
beleaguered
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| adj.受到围困[围攻]的；包围的v.围攻( beleaguer的过去式和过去分词)；困扰；骚扰 | |
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151
trenches
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| 深沟，地沟( trench的名词复数 )； 战壕 | |
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152
trench
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| n./v.(挖)沟，(挖)战壕 | |
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153
kindled
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| （使某物）燃烧，着火( kindle的过去式和过去分词 )； 激起（感情等）； 发亮，放光 | |
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154
waned
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| v.衰落( wane的过去式和过去分词 )；（月）亏；变小；变暗淡 | |
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155
rend
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| vt.把…撕开，割裂；把…揪下来，强行夺取 | |
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156
brigand
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| n.土匪，强盗 | |
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157
quelling
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| v.（用武力）制止，结束，镇压( quell的现在分词 ) | |
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158
marred
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| adj. 被损毁, 污损的 | |
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159
dishonoured
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| a.不光彩的，不名誉的 | |
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160
doomed
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| 命定的 | |
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161
unbearable
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| adj.不能容忍的；忍受不住的 | |
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162
wrought
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| v.引起；以…原料制作；运转；adj.制造的 | |
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163
remorse
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| n.痛恨，悔恨，自责 | |
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164
stammered
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| v.结巴地说出( stammer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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165
veins
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| n.纹理；矿脉( vein的名词复数 )；静脉；叶脉；纹理 | |
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166
stewards
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| （轮船、飞机等的）乘务员( steward的名词复数 )； （俱乐部、旅馆、工会等的）管理员； （大型活动的）组织者； （私人家中的）管家 | |
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167
lurking
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| 潜在 | |
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168
withered
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| adj. 枯萎的，干瘪的，（人身体的部分器官）因病萎缩的或未发育良好的 动词wither的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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169
devious
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| adj.不坦率的，狡猾的；迂回的，曲折的 | |
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170
herded
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| 群集，纠结( herd的过去式和过去分词 )； 放牧； （使）向…移动 | |
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171
archers
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| n.弓箭手，射箭运动员( archer的名词复数 ) | |
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172
embalmed
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| adj.用防腐药物保存（尸体）的v.保存（尸体）不腐( embalm的过去式和过去分词 )；使不被遗忘；使充满香气 | |
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173
crumbles
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| 酥皮水果甜点( crumble的名词复数 ) | |
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174
remains
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| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
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175
folly
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| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
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176
flickers
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| 电影制片业； （通常指灯光）闪烁，摇曳( flicker的名词复数 ) | |
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177
precipice
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| n.悬崖，危急的处境 | |
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178
mansions
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| n.宅第，公馆，大厦( mansion的名词复数 ) | |
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179
domes
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| n.圆屋顶( dome的名词复数 )；像圆屋顶一样的东西；圆顶体育场 | |
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180
vaulted
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| adj.拱状的 | |
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181
shrouded
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| v.隐瞒( shroud的过去式和过去分词 )；保密 | |
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182
gust
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| n.阵风，突然一阵（雨、烟等），（感情的）迸发 | |
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183
cowering
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| v.畏缩，抖缩( cower的现在分词 ) | |
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184
slain
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| 杀死，宰杀，杀戮( slay的过去分词 )； (slay的过去分词) | |
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185
hideous
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| adj.丑陋的，可憎的，可怕的，恐怖的 | |
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186
likeness
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| n.相像，相似（之处） | |
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187
ravening
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| a.贪婪而饥饿的 | |
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188
hardiest
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| 能吃苦耐劳的，坚强的( hardy的最高级 )； （植物等）耐寒的 | |
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189
hooded
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| adj.戴头巾的；有罩盖的；颈部因肋骨运动而膨胀的 | |
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190
trampling
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| 踩( trample的现在分词 )； 践踏； 无视； 侵犯 | |
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191
heeding
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| v.听某人的劝告，听从( heed的现在分词 ) | |
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192
defender
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| n.保卫者，拥护者，辩护人 | |
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193
drooped
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| 弯曲或下垂，发蔫( droop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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194
rattled
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| 慌乱的，恼火的 | |
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195
hurled
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| v.猛投，用力掷( hurl的过去式和过去分词 )；大声叫骂 | |
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196
rumbled
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| 发出隆隆声，发出辘辘声( rumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 轰鸣着缓慢行进； 发现…的真相； 看穿（阴谋） | |
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197
asunder
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| adj.分离的，化为碎片 | |
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198
loomed
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| v.隐约出现，阴森地逼近( loom的过去式和过去分词 )；隐约出现，阴森地逼近 | |
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199
steadfast
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| adj.固定的，不变的，不动摇的；忠实的；坚贞不移的 | |
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200
mantled
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| 披着斗篷的，覆盖着的 | |
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201
shrill
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| adj.尖声的；刺耳的；v尖叫 | |
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