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第27章

the return of the king-第27章

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great burning; but between it and the Riders lines of fire blazed in a vast crescent; at the nearest 
point less than a league distant。 He could make out little more on the dark plain; and as yet he 
neither saw any hope of morning; nor felt any wind; changed or unchanged。
     Now silently the host of Rohan moved forward into the field of Gondor; pouring in slowly but 
steadily; like the rising tide through breaches in a dike that men have thought secure。 But the mind 
and will of the Black Captain were bent wholly on the falling city; and as yet no tidings came to 
him warning that his designs held any flaw。
     After a while the king led his men away somewhat eastward; to e between the fires of the 
siege and the outer fields。 Still they were unchallenged; and still Théoden gave no signal。 At last he 
halted once again。 The City was now nearer。 A smell of burning was in the air and a very shadow 
of death。 The horses were uneasy。 But the king sat upon Snowmane; motionless; gazing upon the 
agony of Minas Tirith; as if stricken suddenly by anguish; or by dread。 He seemed to shrink down; 
cowed by age。 Merry himself felt as if a great weight of horror and doubt had settled on him。 His 
heart beat slowly。 Time seemed poised in uncertainty。 They were too late! Too late was worse than 
never! Perhaps Théoden would quail; bow his old head; turn; slink away to hide in the hills。
     Then suddenly Merry felt it at last; beyond doubt: a change。 Wind was in his face! Light was 
glimmering。 Far; far away; in the South the clouds could be dimly seen as remote grey shapes; 
rolling up; drifting: morning lay beyond them。
     But at that same moment there was a flash; as if lightning had sprung from the earth beneath the 
City。 For a searing second it stood dazzling far off in black and white; its topmost tower like a 
glittering needle: and then as the darkness closed again there came rolling over the fields a great 
_boom_。
     At that sound the bent shape of the king sprang suddenly erect。 Tall and proud he seemed again; 
and rising in his stirrups he cried in a loud voice; more clear than any there had ever heard a mortal 
man achieve before:

          Arise; arise; Riders of Théoden!
           Fell deeds awake: fire and slaughter!
           spear shall be shaken; shield be splintered;
           a sword…day; a red day; ere the sun rises!
           Ride now; ride now! Ride to Gondor!

     With that he seized a great horn from Guthláf his banner…bearer; and he blew such a blast upon it 
that it burst asunder。 And straightway all the horns in the host were lifted up in music; and the 
blowing of the horns of Rohan in that hour was like a storm upon the plain and a thunder in the 
mountains。

         Ride now; ride now! Ride to Gondor!

     Suddenly the king cried to Snowmane and the horse sprang away。 Behind him his banner blew 
in the wind; white horse upon a field of green; but he outpaced it。 After him thundered the knights 
of his house; but he was ever before them。 éomer rode there; the white horsetail on his helm 
floating in his speed; and the front of the first _éored_ roared like a breaker foaming to the shore; 
but Théoden could not be overtaken。 Fey he seemed; or the battle…fury of his fathers ran like new 
tire in his veins; and he was borne up on Snowmane like a god of old; even as Orom? the Great in 
the battle of the Valar when the world was young。 His golden shield was uncovered; and lo! it 
shone like an image of the Sun; and the grass flamed into green about the white feet of his steed。 
For morning came; morning and a wind from the sea; and the darkness was removed; and the hosts 
of Mordor wailed; and terror took them; and they fled; and died; and the hoofs of wrath rode over 
them。 And then all the host of Rohan burst into song; and they sang as they slew; for the joy of 
battle was on them; and the sound of their singing that was fair and terrible came even to the City。


                           _Chapter 6_
            The Battle of the Pelennor Fields

     But it was no orc…chieftain or brigand that led the assault upon Gondor。 The darkness was 
breaking too soon; before the date that his Master had set for it: fortune had betrayed him for the 
moment; and the world had turned against him; victory was slipping from his grasp even as he 
stretched out his hand to seize it。 But his arm was long。 He was still in mand; wielding great 
powers。 King; Ringwraith; Lord of the Nazg?l; he had many weapons。 He left the Gate and 
vanished。

     Théoden King of the Mark had reached the road from the Gate to the River; and he turned 
towards the City that was now less than a mile distant。 He slackened his speed a little; seeking new 
foes; and his knights came about him; and Dernhelm was with them。 Ahead nearer the walls 
Elfhelm's men were among the siege…engines; hewing; slaying; driving their foes into the fire…pits。 
Well nigh all the northern half of the Pelennor was overrun; and there camps were blazing; orcs 
were flying towards the River like herds before the hunters; and the Rohirrim went hither and 
thither at their will。 But they had not yet overthrown the siege; nor won the Gate。 Many foes stood 
before it; and on the further half of the plain were other hosts still unfought。 Southward beyond the 
road lay the main force of the Haradrim; and there their horsemen were gathered about the standard 
of their chieftain。 And he looked out; and in the growing light he saw the banner of the king; and 
that it was far ahead of the battle with few men about it。 Then he was filled with a red wrath and 
shouted aloud; and displaying his standard; black serpent upon scarlet; he came against the white 
horse and the green with great press of men; and the drawing of the scimitars of the Southrons was 
like a glitter of stars。
     Then Théoden was aware of him; and would not wait for his onset; but crying to Snowmane he 
charged headlong to greet him。 Great was the clash of their meeting。 But the white fury of the 
Northmen burned the hotter; and more skilled was their knighthood with long spears and bitter。 
Fewer were they but they clove through the Southrons like a fire…bolt in a forest。 Right through the 
press drove Théoden Thengel's son; and his spear was shivered as he threw down their chieftain。 
Out swept his sword; and he spurred to the standard; hewed staff and bearer; and the black serpent 
foundered。 Then all that was left unslain of their cavalry turned and fled far away。

     But lo! suddenly in the midst of the glory of the king his golden shield was dimmed。 The new 
morning was blotted from the sky。 Dark fell about him。 Horses reared and screamed。 Men cast from 
the saddle lay grovelling on the ground。
     'To me! To me!' cried Théoden。 'Up Eorlingas! Fear no darkness!' But Snowmane wild with 
terror stood up on high; fighting with the air; and then with a great scream he crashed upon his side: 
a black dart had pierced him。 The king fell beneath him。
     The great shadow descended like a falling cloud。 And behold! it was a winged creature: if bird; 
then greater than all other birds; and it was naked; and neither quill nor feather did it bear; and its 
vast pinions were as webs of hide between horned fingers; and it stank。 A creature of an older 
world maybe it was; whose kind; fingering in forgotten mountains cold beneath the Moon; 
outstayed their day; and in hideous eyrie bred this last untimely brood; apt to evil。 And the Dark 
Lord took it; and nursed it with fell meats; until it grew beyond the measure of all other things that 
fly; and he gave it to his servant to be his steed。 Down; down it came; and then; folding its fingered 
webs; it gave a croaking cry; and settled upon the body of Snowmane; digging in its claws; 
stooping its long naked neck。
     Upon it sat a shape; black…mantled; huge and threatening。 A crown of steel he bore; but between 
rim and robe naught was there to see; save only a deadly gleam of eyes: the Lord of the Nazg?l。 To 
the air he had returned; summoning his steed ere the darkness failed; and now he was e again; 
bringing ruin; turning hope to despair; and victory to death。 A great black mace he wielded。
     But Théoden was not utterly forsaken。 The knights of his house lay slain about him; or else 
mastered by the madness of their steeds were borne far away。 Yet one stood there still: Dernhelm 
the young; faithful beyond fear; and he wept; for he had loved his lord as a father。 Right through the 
charge Merry had been borne unharmed behind him; until the Shadow came; and then Windfola 
had thrown them in his terror; and now ran wild upon the plain。 Merry crawled on all fours like a 
dazed beast; and such a horror was on him that he was blind and sick。
     'King's man! King's man!' his heart cried within him。 'You must stay by him。 As a father you 
shall be to me; you said。' But his will made no answer; and his body shook。 He dared not open his 
eyes or look up。
     Then out of the blackness in his mind he thought that he heard Dernhelm speaking; yet now the 
voice seemed strange; recalling some other voice that he had known。
     'Begone; foul 

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