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the muster of rohan 1041
From this side a rider now came out to meet them, and they
turned from the road.
As they drew near Merry saw that the rider was a woman
with long braided hair gleaming in the twilight, yet she wore
a helm and was clad to the waist like a warrior and girded
with a sword.
‘Hail, Lord of the Mark!’ she cried. ‘My heart is glad at
your returning.’
‘And you, Éowyn,’ said Théoden, ‘is all well with you?’
‘All is well,’ she answered; yet it seemed to Merry that her
voice belied her, and he would have thought that she had
been weeping, if that could be believed of one so stern of
face. ‘All is well. It was a weary road for the people to take,
torn suddenly from their homes. There were hard words, for
it is long since war has driven us from the green fields; but
there have been no evil deeds. All is now ordered, as you see.
And your lodging is prepared for you; for I have had full
tidings of you and knew the hour of your coming.’
‘So Aragorn has come then,’ said Éomer. ‘Is he still here?’
‘No, he is gone,’ said Éowyn turning away and looking at
the mountains dark against the East and South.
‘Whither did he go?’ asked Éomer.
‘I do not know,’ she answered. ‘He came at night, and
rode away yestermorn, ere the Sun had climbed over the
mountain-tops. He is gone.’
‘You are grieved, daughter,’ said Théoden. ‘What has happened?
Tell me, did he speak of that road?’ He pointed away
along the darkening lines of stones towards the Dwimorberg.
‘Of the Paths of the Dead?’
‘Yes, lord,’ said Éowyn. ‘And he has passed into the
shadow from which none have returned. I could not dissuade
him. He is gone.’
‘Then our paths are sundered,’ said Éomer. ‘He is lost. We
must ride without him, and our hope dwindles.’
Slowly they passed through the short heath and upland
grass, speaking no more, until they came to the king’s