towers

helm’s deep 697
hills of the Coomb-side the westering moon rode, glimmering
yellow in the storm-wrack.
‘We did not come too soon,’ said Aragorn, looking at the
gates. Their great hinges and iron bars were wrenched and
bent; many of their timbers were cracked. ‘The doors will
not withstand another such battering.’
‘Yet we cannot stay here beyond the walls to defend them,’
said Éomer. ‘Look!’ He pointed to the causeway. Already a
great press of Orcs and Men were gathering again beyond
the stream. Arrows whined, and skipped on the stones about
them. ‘Come! We must get back and see what we can do to
pile stone and beam across the gates within. Come now!’
They turned and ran. At that moment some dozen Orcs
that had lain motionless among the slain leaped to their feet,
and came silently and swiftly behind. Two flung themselves
to the ground at Éomer’s heels, tripped him, and in a moment
they were on top of him. But a small dark figure that none
had observed sprang out of the shadows and gave a hoarse
shout: Baruk Khazâd! Khazâd ai-mênu! An axe swung and
swept back. Two Orcs fell headless. The rest fled.
Éomer struggled to his feet, even as Aragorn ran back to
his aid.
The postern was closed again, the iron door was barred
and piled inside with stones. When all were safe within,
Éomer turned: ‘I thank you, Gimli son of Glóin!’ he said. ‘I
did not know that you were with us in the sortie. But oft the
unbidden guest proves the best company. How came you
there?’
‘I followed you to shake off sleep,’ said Gimli; ‘but I looked
on the hillmen and they seemed over large for me, so I sat
beside a stone to see your sword-play.’
‘I shall not find it easy to repay you,’ said Éomer.
‘There may be many a chance ere the night is over,’
laughed the Dwarf. ‘But I am content. Till now I have hewn
naught but wood since I left Moria.’
* * *