return

the battle of the pelennor fields 1111
all the sky with a great burning, so that the hills and the
mountains were dyed as with blood; fire glowed in the River,
and the grass of the Pelennor lay red in the nightfall. And in
that hour the great Battle of the field of Gondor was over;
and not one living foe was left within the circuit of the
Rammas. All were slain save those who fled to die, or to
drown in the red foam of the River. Few ever came eastward
to Morgul or Mordor; and to the land of the Haradrim came
only a tale from far off: a rumour of the wrath and terror of
Gondor.
Aragorn and Éomer and Imrahil rode back towards the
Gate of the City, and they were now weary beyond joy or
sorrow. These three were unscathed, for such was their fortune
and the skill and might of their arms, and few indeed
had dared to abide them or look on their faces in the hour of
their wrath. But many others were hurt or maimed or dead
upon the field. The axes hewed Forlong as he fought alone
and unhorsed; and both Duilin of Morthond and his brother
were trampled to death when they assailed the mûmakil, leading
their bowmen close to shoot at the eyes of the monsters.
Neither Hirluin the fair would return to Pinnath Gelin, nor
Grimbold to Grimslade, nor Halbarad to the Northlands,
dour-handed Ranger. No few had fallen, renowned or nameless,
captain or soldier; for it was a great battle and the full
count of it no tale has told. So long afterward a maker in
Rohan said in his song of the Mounds of Mundburg:
We heard of the horns in the hills ringing,
the swords shining in the South-kingdom.
Steeds went striding to the Stoningland
as wind in the morning. War was kindled.
There Théoden fell, Thengling mighty,
to his golden halls and green pastures
in the Northern fields never returning,
high lord of the host. Harding and Guthláf,
Dúnhere and Déorwine, doughty Grimbold,