return

the battle of the pelennor fields 1099
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, lingering 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