J Tolkien: The Lord of the Rings 2 - The Two Towers

"No," said Aragorn. "One only of us is an Elf, Legolas from the Woodland Realm in distant Mirkwood. But we have passed through Lothlorien, and the gifts and favour of the Lady go with us."

The Rider looked at them with renewed wonder, but his eyes hardened. "Then there is a Lady in the Golden Wood, as old tales tell!" he said. "Few escape her nets, they say. These are strange days! But if you have her favour, then you also are net-weavers and sorcerers, maybe." He turned a cold glance suddenly upon Legolas and Gimli. "Why do you not speak, silent ones?" he demanded.

Gimli rose and planted his feet firmly apart: his hand gripped the handle of his axe, and his dark eyes flashed. "Give me your name, horse-master, and I will give you mine, and more besides," he said.

"As for that," said the Rider, staring down at the Dwarf,"the stranger should declare himself first. Yet I am named Eomer son of Eomund, and am called the Third Marshal of Riddermark."

"Then Eomer son of Eomund, Third Marshal of Riddermark, let Gimli the Dwarf Gloin's son warn you against foolish words. You speak evil of that which is fair beyond the reach of your thought, and only little wit can excuse you."

Eomer's eyes blazed, and the Men of Rohan murmured angrily, and closed in, advancing their spears. "I would cut off your head, beard and all, Master Dwarf, if it stood but a little higher from the ground ' said Eomer.

"He stands not alone," said Legolas, bending his bow and fitting an arrow with hands that moved quicker than sight. "You would die before your stroke fell."

Eomer raised his sword, and things might have gone ill, but Aragorn sprang between them, and raised his hand. "Your pardon, Eomer!" he cried. "When you know more you will understand why you have angered my companions. We intend no evil to Rohan, nor to any of its folk, neither to man nor to horse. Will you not hear our tale before you strike?"

"I will," said Eomer lowering his blade. "But wanderers in the Riddermark would be wise to be less haughty in these days of doubt. First tell me your right name."

"First tell me whom you serve," said Aragorn. "Are you friend or foe of Sauron, the Dark Lord of Mordor?"

"I serve only the Lord of the Mark, Theoden King son of Thengel," answered Eomer. "We do not serve the Power of the Black Land far away, but neither are we yet at open war with him; and if you are fleeing from him, then you had best leave this land. There is trouble now on all our borders, and we are threatened; but we desire only to be free, and to live as we have lived, keeping our own, and serving no foreign lord, good or evil. We welcomed guests kindly in the better days, but in these times the unbidden stranger finds us swift and hard. Come! Who are you? Whom doyou serve? At whose command do you hunt Orcs in our land?"

"I serve no man," said Aragorn;"but the servants of Sauron I pursue into whatever land they may go. There are few among mortal Men who know more of Orcs; and I do not hunt them in this fashion out of choice. The Orcs whom we pursued took captive two of my friends. In such need a man that has no horse will go on foot, and he will not ask for leave to follow the trail. Nor will he count the heads of the enemy save with a sword. I am not weaponless."

Aragorn threw back his cloak. The elven-sheath glittered as he grasped it, and the bright blade of Anduril shone like a sudden flame as he swept it out. "Elendil!" he cried. "I am Aragorn son of Arathorn and am called Elessar, the Elfstone, Dunadan, the heir of Isildur Elendil's son of Gondor. Here is the Sword that was Broken and is forged again! Will you aid me or thwart me? Choose swiftly!"

Gimli and Legolas looked at their companion in amazement, for they had not seen him in this mood before. He seemed to have grown in stature while Eomer had shrunk; and in his living face they caught a brief vision of the power and majesty of the kings of stone. For a moment it seemed to the eyes of Legolas that a white flame flickered on the brows of Aragorn like a shining crown.

Eomer stepped back and a look of awe was in his face. He cast down his proud eyes. "These are indeed strange days," he muttered. "Dreams and legends spring to life out of the grass.

"Tell me, lord," he said,"what brings you here? And what was the meaning of the dark words? Long has Boromir son of Denethor been gone seeking an answer, and the horse that we lent him came back riderless. What doom do you bring out of the North?"

"The doom of choice," said Aragorn. "You may say this to Theoden son of Thengel: open war lies before him, with Sauron or against him. None may live now as they have lived, and few shall keep what they call their own. But of these great matters we will speak later. If chance allows, I will come myself to the king. Now I am in great need, and I ask for help, or at least for tidings. You heard that we are pursuing an orc-host that carried off our friends. What can you tell us?"

"That you need not pursue them further," said Eomer. "The Orcs are destroyed."

"And our friends?"

"We found none but Orcs."

"But that is strange indeed," said Aragorn. "Did you search the slain? Were there no bodies other than those of orc-kind? They would be small. Only children to your eyes, unshod but clad in grey."

"There were no dwarves nor children," said Eomer. "We counted all the slain and despoiled them, and then we piled the carcases and burned them, as is our custom. The ashes are smoking still."

"We do not speak of dwarves or children," said Gimli. "Our friends were hobbits."

"Hobbits?" said Eomer. "And what may they be? It is a strange name."

"A strange name for a strange folk," said Gimli. "But these were very dear to us. It seems that you have heard in Rohan of the words that troubled Minas Tirith. They spoke of the Halfling. These hobbits are Halflings."

"Halflings!" laughed the Rider that stood beside Eomer. "Halflings! But they are only a little people in old songs and children's tales out of the North. Do we walk in legends or on the green earth in the daylight?"

"A man may do both," said Aragorn. "For not we but those who come after will make the legends of our time. The green earth, say you? That is a mighty matter of legend, though you tread it under the light of day!"

"Time is pressing," said the Rider, not heeding Aragorn. "We must hasten south, lord. Let us leave these wild folk to their fancies. Or let us bind them and take them to the king."

"Peace, Eothain!" said Eomer in his own tongue. "Leave me a while. Tell theeored to assemble on the path' and make ready to ride to the Entwade."

Muttering Eothain retired, and spoke to the others. Soon they drew off and left Eomer alone with the three companions.

"All that you say is strange, Aragorn." he said. "Yet you speak the truth, that is plain: the Men of the Mark do not lie, and therefore they are not easily deceived. But you have not told all. Will you not now speak more fully of your errand, so that I may judge what to do?"

"I set out from Imladris, as it is named in the rhyme, many weeks ago," answered Aragorn. "With me went Boromir of Minas Tirith. My errand was to go to that city with the son of Denethor, to aid his folk in their war against Sauron. But the Company that I journeyed with had other business. Of that I cannot speak now. Gandalf the Grey was our leader."

"Gandalf!" Eomer exclaimed. "Gandalf Greyhame is known in the Mark: but his name, I warn you, is no longer a password to the king's favour. He has been a guest in the land many times in the memory of men, coming as he will, after a season, or after many years. He is ever the herald of strange events: a bringer of evil, some now say.

"Indeed since his last coming in the summer all things have gone amiss. At that time our trouble with Saruman began. Until then we counted Saruman our friend, hut Gandalf came then and warned us that sudden war was preparing in Isengard. He said that he himself had been a prisoner in Orthanc and had hardly escaped, and he begged for help. But Theoden would not listen to him, and he went away. Speak not the name of Gandalf loudly in Theoden's ears! He is wroth. For Gandalf took the horse that is called Shadowfax, the most precious of all the king's steeds, chief of theMearas , which only the Lord of the Mark may ride. For the sire of their race was the great horse of Eorl that knew the speech of Men. Seven nights ago Shadowfax returned; but the king's anger is not less, for now the horse is wild and will let no man handle him."