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1084 the <strong>return</strong> of the king<br />

great as a forest-tree a hundred feet in length, swinging on<br />

mighty chains. Long had it been forging in the dark smithies<br />

of Mordor, and its hideous head, founded of black steel, was<br />

shaped in the likeness of a ravening wolf; on it spells of ruin<br />

lay. Grond they named it, in memory of the Hammer of the<br />

Underworld of old. Great beasts drew it, orcs surrounded it,<br />

and behind walked mountain-trolls to wield it.<br />

But about the Gate resistance still was stout, and there the<br />

knights of Dol Amroth and the hardiest of the garrison stood<br />

at bay. Shot and dart fell thick; siege-towers crashed or blazed<br />

suddenly like torches. All before the walls on either side of<br />

the Gate the ground was choked with wreck and with bodies<br />

of the slain; yet still driven as by a madness more and more<br />

came up.<br />

Grond crawled on. Upon its housing no fire would catch;<br />

and though now and again some great beast that hauled it<br />

would go mad and spread stamping ruin among the orcs<br />

innumerable that guarded it, their bodies were cast aside from<br />

its path and others took their place.<br />

Grond crawled on. The drums rolled wildly. Over the hills<br />

of slain a hideous shape appeared: a horseman, tall, hooded,<br />

cloaked in black. Slowly, trampling the fallen, he rode forth,<br />

heeding no longer any dart. He halted and held up a long<br />

pale sword. And as he did so a great fear fell on all, defender<br />

and foe alike; and the hands of men drooped to their sides,<br />

and no bow sang. For a moment all was still.<br />

The drums rolled and rattled. With a vast rush Grond<br />

was hurled forward by huge hands. It reached the Gate. It<br />

swung. A deep boom rumbled through the City like thunder<br />

running in the clouds. But the doors of iron and posts of steel<br />

withstood the stroke.<br />

Then the Black Captain rose in his stirrups and cried aloud<br />

in a dreadful voice, speaking in some forgotten tongue words<br />

of power and terror to rend both heart and stone.<br />

Thrice he cried. Thrice the great ram boomed. And suddenly<br />

upon the last stroke the Gate of Gondor broke. As if<br />

stricken by some blasting spell it burst asunder: there was a

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