return

1048 the return of the king
again, one would think under this cloud. But time does not
stand still, though the Sun be lost. Make haste!’
Flinging on some clothes, Merry looked outside. The world
was darkling. The very air seemed brown, and all things
about were black and grey and shadowless; there was a great
stillness. No shape of cloud could be seen, unless it were far
away westward, where the furthest groping fingers of the
great gloom still crawled onwards and a little light leaked
through them. Overhead there hung a heavy roof, sombre
and featureless, and light seemed rather to be failing than
growing.
Merry saw many folk standing, looking up and muttering;
all their faces were grey and sad, and some were afraid. With
a sinking heart he made his way to the king. Hirgon the rider
of Gondor was there before him, and beside him stood now
another man, like him and dressed alike, but shorter and
broader. As Merry entered he was speaking to the king.
‘It comes from Mordor, lord,’ he said. ‘It began last night
at sunset. From the hills in the Eastfold of your realm I saw
it rise and creep across the sky, and all night as I rode it came
behind eating up the stars. Now the great cloud hangs over
all the land between here and the Mountains of Shadow; and
it is deepening. War has already begun.’
For a while the king sat silent. At last he spoke. ‘So we
come to it in the end,’ he said: ‘the great battle of our time,
in which many things shall pass away. But at least there is no
longer need for hiding. We will ride the straight way and the
open road and with all our speed. The muster shall begin at
once, and wait for none that tarry. Have you good store in
Minas Tirith? For if we must ride now in all haste, then we
must ride light, with but meal and water enough to last us
into battle.’
‘We have very great store long prepared,’ answered
Hirgon. ‘Ride now as light and as swift as you may!’
‘Then call the heralds, Éomer,’ said Théoden. ‘Let the
Riders be marshalled!’