return

the muster of rohan 1037
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. Two nights ago 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 was
guarded. As the king approached many men sprang up out
of the shadow of the rocks; and when they saw the king they
cried with glad voices: ‘Théoden King! Théoden King! The
King of the Mark returns!’
Then one blew a long call on a horn. It echoed in the
valley. Other horns answered it, and lights shone out across
the river.