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who remembered still the lore of Westernesse told that it had been brought out of the ruin of
Númenor and there set by Isildur at his landing。 None of the people of the valley dared to approach
it； nor would they dwell near； for they said that it was a trysting…place of the Shadow…men； and
there they would gather in times of fear； thronging round the Stone and whispering。
To that Stone the pany came and halted in the dead of night。 Then Elrohir gave to Aragorn
a silver horn； and he blew upon it and it seemed to those that stood near that they heard a sound of
answering horns； as if it was an echo in deep caves far away。 No other sound they heard； and yet
they were aware of a great host gathered all about the hill on which they stood； and a chill wind like
the breath of ghosts came down from the mountains。 But Aragorn dismounted； and standing by the
Stone he cried in a great voice：
'Oathbreakers； why have ye e？'
And a voice was heard out of the night that answered him； as if from far away：
'To fulfil our oath and have peace。'
Then Aragorn said： 'The hour is e at last。 Now I go to Pelargir upon Anduin； and ye shall
e after me。 And when all this land is clean of the servants of Sauron； I will hold the oath
fulfilled； and ye shall have peace and depart for ever。 For I am Elessar； Isildur's heir of Gondor。'
And with that he bade Halbarad unfurl the great standard which he had brought； and behold！ it
was black； and if there was any device upon it； it was hidden in the darkness。 Then there was
silence； and not a whisper nor a sigh was heard again all the long night。 The pany camped
beside the Stone； but they slept little； because of the dread of the Shadows that hedged them round。
But when the dawn came； cold and pale； Aragorn rose at once； and he led the pany forth
upon the journey of greatest haste and weariness that any among them had known； save he alone；
and only his will held them to go on。 No other mortal Men could have endured it； none but the
Dúnedain of the North； and with them Gimli the Dwarf and Legolas of the Elves。
They passed Tarlang's Neck and came into Lamedon； and the Shadow Host pressed behind and
fear went on before them； until they came to Calembel upon Ciril； and the sun went down like
blood behind Pinnath Gelin away in the West behind them。 The township and the fords of Ciril they
found deserted； for many men had gone away to war； and all that were left fled to the hills at the
rumour of the ing of the King of the Dead。 But the next day there came no dawn； and the Grey
pany passed on into the darkness of the Storm of Mordor and were lost to mortal sight； but the
Dead followed them。
_Chapter 3_
The Muster of Rohan
Now all roads were running together to the East to meet the ing of war and the onset of the
Shadow。 And even as Pippin stood at the Great Gate of the City and saw the Prince of Dol Amroth
ride in with his banners； the King of Rohan came down out of the hills。
Day was waning。 In the last rays of the sun the Riders cast long pointed shadows that went on
before them。 Darkness had already crept beneath the murmuring fir…woods that clothed the steep
mountain…sides。 The king rode now slowly at the end of the day。 Presently the path turned round a
huge bare shoulder of rock and plunged into the gloom of soft…sighing trees。 Down； down they
went in a long winding file。 When at last they came to the bottom of the gorge they found that
evening had fallen in the deep places。 The sun was gone。 Twilight lay upon the waterfalls。
All day far below them a leaping stream had run down from the high pass behind； cleaving its
narrow way between pine…clad walls； and now through a stony gate it flowed out and passed into a
wider vale。 The Riders followed it； and suddenly Harrowdale lay before them； loud with the noise
of waters in the evening。 There the white Snowbourn； joined by the lesser stream； went rushing；
fuming on the stones； down to Edoras and the green hills and the plains。 Away to the right at the
head of the great dale the mighty Starkhorn loomed up above its vast buttresses swathed in cloud；
but its jagged peak； clothed in everlasting snow； gleamed far above the world； blue…shadowed upon
the East； red…stained by the sunset in the West。
Merry looked out in wonder upon this strange country； of which he had heard many tales upon
their long road。 It was a skyless world； in which his eye； through dim gulfs of shadowy air； saw
only ever…mounting slopes； great walls of stone behind great walls； and frowning precipices
wreathed with mist。 He sat for a moment half dreaming； listening to the noise of water； the whisper
of dark trees； the crack of stone； and the vast waiting silence that brooded behind all sound。 He
loved mountains； or he had loved the thought of them marching on the edge of stories brought from
far away； but now he was borne down by the insupportable weight of Middle…earth。 He longed to
shut out the immensity in a quiet room by a fire。
He was very tired； for though they had ridden slowly； they had ridden with very little rest。 Hour
after hour for nearly three weary days he had jogged up and down； over passes； and through long
dales； and across many streams。 Sometimes where the way was broader he had ridden at the king's
side； not noticing that many of the Riders smiled to see the two together： the hobbit on his little
shaggy grey pony； and the Lord of Rohan on his great white horse。 Then he had talked to Théoden；
telling him about his home and the doings of the Shire…folk； or listening in turn to tales of the Mark
and its mighty men of old。 But most of the time； especially on this last day； Merry had ridden by
himself just behind the king； saying nothing； and trying to understand the slow sonorous speech of
Rohan that he heard the men behind him using。 It was a language in which there seemed to be
many words that he knew； though spoken more richly and strongly than in the Shire； yet he could
not piece the words together。 At times some Rider would lift up his clear voice in stirring song； and
Merry felt his heart leap； though he did not know what it was about。
All the same he had been lonely； and never more so than now at the day's end。 He wondered
where in all this strange world Pippin had got to； and what would bee of Aragorn and Legolas
and Gimli。 Then suddenly like a cold touch on his heart he thought of Frodo and Sam。 'I am
forgetting them！' he said to himself reproachfully。 'And yet they are more important than all the rest
of us。 And I came to help them； but now they must be hundreds of miles away； if they are still
alive。' He shivered。
'Harrowdale at last！' said éomer。 'Our journey is almost at an end。' They halted。 The paths out of
the narrow gorge fell steeply。 Only a glimpse； as through a tall window； could be seen of the great
valley in the gloaming below。 A single small light could be seen twinkling by the river。
'This journey is over； maybe；' said Théoden； 'but I have far yet to go。 Last night the moon was
full； and in the morning I shall ride to Edoras to the gathering of the Mark。'
'But if you would take my counsel；' said éomer in a low voice； 'you would then return hither；
until the war is over； lost or won。'
Théoden smiled。 'Nay； my son； for so I will call you； speak not the soft words of Wormtongue in
my old ears！' He drew himself up and looked back at the long line of his men fading into the dusk
behind。 'Long years in the space of days it seems since I rode west； but never will I lean on a staff
again。 If the war is lost； what good will be my hiding in the hills？ And if it is won； what grief will it
be； even if I fall； spending my last strength？ But we will leave this now。 Tonight I will lie in the
Hold of Dunharrow。 One evening of peace at least is left us。 Let us ride on！'
In the deepening dusk they came down into the valley。 Here the Snowbourn flowed near to the
western walls of the dale； and soon the path led them to a ford where the shallow waters murmured
loudly on the stones。 The ford