Lyrd Of The Ryngs - The Homies

[Grey_Wolf]

"Nay, lady," said he, "I am not astray; for I walked in this land ere you were born to grace it. There is a road out of this valley, and that road I shall take. Tomorrow I shall ride by the Paths of the Dead."

Then she stared at him as one that is stricken, and her face blanched, and for long she spoke no more, while all sat silent. "But, Aragorn," she said at last, "is it then your errand to seek death? For that is all that you will find on that road. They do not suffer the living to pass."
"They may suffer me to pass," said Aragorn; "but at the least I will adventure it. No other road will serve."
"But this is madness," she said. "For here are men of renown and prowess, whom you should not take into the shadows, but should lead to war, where men are needed. I beg you to remain and ride with my brother; for then all our hearts will be gladdened, and our hope be the brighter."
"It is not madness, lady," he answered; "for I go on a path appointed. But those who follow me do so of their free will; and if they wish now to remain and drive with the Rohirrim, they may do so. But I shall take the Paths of the Dead, alone, if needs be."

Then they said no more, and they ate in silence; but her eyes were ever upon Aragorn, and the others saw that she was in great torment of mind. At length they arose, and took their leave of the Lady, and thanked her for her care, and went to their rest.

But as Aragorn came to the booth where he was to lodge with Legolas and Gimli, and his companions had gone in. there came the Lady Éowyn after him and called to him. He turned and saw her as a glimmer in the night, for she was clad in white; but her eyes were on fire.
"Aragorn," she said, "why will you go on this deadly road?"
"Because I must," he said. "Only so can I see any hope of doing my part in the war against Sauron. I do not choose paths of peril, Éowyn. Were I to go where my heart dwells, far in the North I would now be wandering in the fair valley of Rivendell."

For a while she was silent, as if pondering what this might mean. Then suddenly she laid her hand on his arm. "You are a stern lord and resolute," she said; "and thus do men win renown." She paused. "Lord." she said, "if you must go, then let me ride in your following. For I am weary of skulking in the hills, and wish to face peril and battle."
"Your duty is with your people," he answered.
"Too often have I heard of duty," she cried. "But am I not of the House of Eorl, a shieldmaiden and not a dry-nurse? I have waited on faltering feet long enough. Since they falter no longer, it seems, may I not now spend my life as I will?"
"Few may do that with honour," he answered. "But as for you, lady: did you not accept the charge to govern the people until their lord's return? If you had not been chosen, then some marshal or captain would have been set in the same place, and he could not ride away from his charge, were he weary of it or no."
"Shall I always be chosen?" she said bitterly. "Shall I always be left behind when the Bikers depart, to mind the house while they win renown, and find food and beds when they return?"
"A time may come soon," said he, "when none will return. Then there will be need of valour without renown, for none shall remember the deeds that are done in the last defence of your homes. Yet the deeds will not be less valiant because they are unpraised."

[Grey_Wolf]

And she answered: "All your words are but to say: you are a woman, and your part is in the house. But when the men have died in battle and honour, you have leave to be burned in the house, for the men will need it no more. But I am of the House of Eorl and not a maid. I can drive and am a crack-shot, and I do not fear either pain or death."
"What do you fear, lady?" he asked.
"A cage," she said. "To stay behind bars, until use and old age accept them, and all chance of doing great deeds is gone beyond recall or desire."
"And yet you counselled me not to adventure on the road that I had chosen, because it is perilous?"
"So may one counsel another," she said. "Yet I do not bid you flee from peril, but to ride to battle where your blade may win renown and victory. I would not see a thing that is high and excellent cast away needlessly."
"Nor would I," he said. "Therefore I say to you, lady: Stay! For you have no errand to the South."
"Neither have those others who go with thee. They go only because they would not be parted from thee - because they love thee." Then she turned and vanished into the night.

When the light of day was come into the sky but the sun was not yet risen above the high ridges in the East, Aragorn made ready to depart. His company was all sitting on their bikes, and he was about to leap into his, when the Lady Éowyn came to bid them farewell. She was clad as a Biker, over her usual yellow Bride outfit and holding a M-16 combat rifle. In her hand she bore a cup, and she set it to her lips and drank a little, wishing them good speed; and then she gave the cup to Aragorn, and he drank, and he said: "Farewell, Lady of Rohan! I drink to the fortunes of your House, and of you, and of all your people. Say to your brother: beyond the shadows we may meet again!"

Then it seemed to Gimli and Legolas who were nearby that she wept, and in one so stern and proud that seemed the more grievous. But she said: "Aragorn, wilt thou go?"
"I will," he said.
"Then wilt thou not let me drive with this company, as I have asked?"
"I will not, lady," he said. "For that I could not grant without leave of the general and of your brother; and they will not return until tomorrow. But I count now every hour, indeed every minute. Farewell!"

Then she fell on her knees, saying: "I beg thee!"
"Nay, lady," he said, and taking her by the hand he raised her. Then he kissed her hand, and mounted his bike, and drove away, and did not look back; and only those who knew him well and were near to him saw the pain that he bore.

[Grey_Wolf]

But Éowyn stood still as a figure carven in stone, her hands clenched at her sides, and she watched them until they passed into the shadows under the black Dwimorberg, the Haunted Mountain, in which was the Gate of the Dead. When they were lost to view, she turned, stumbling as one that is blind, and went back to her lodging. But none of her folk saw this parting, for they hid themselves in fear and would not come forth until the day was up, and the reckless strangers were gone.

And some said: "They are Elvish wights. Let them go where they belong, into the dark places, and never return. The times are evil enough."

The light was still grey as they drove, for the sun had not yet climbed over the black ridges of the Haunted Mountain before them. A dread fell on them, even as they passed between the lines of ancient stones and so came to the Dimholt. There under the gloom of black trees that not even Legolas could long endure they found a hollow place opening at the mountain's root, and right in their path stood a single mighty stone like a finger of doom.
"My blood runs chill," said Gimli, but the others were silent, and his voice fell dead on the dank fir-needles at his feet. The men found it difficult to pass the threatening stone. And so they came at last deep into the glen; and there stood a sheer wall of rock, and in the wall the Dark Door gaped before them like the mouth of night. Graffiti and other figures were carved and painted above its wide arch too dim to read, and fear flowed from it like a grey vapour.

The company halted, and there was not a heart among them that did not quail, unless it were the heart of Legolas of the Elves, for whom the ghosts of Men have no terror.
"This is an evil door," said Halbarad, "and my death lies beyond it. I will dare to pass it nonetheless; but no horse will enter."
"But we must drive in," said Aragorn. "For if ever we come through this darkness, many leagues lie beyond, and every hour that is lost there will bring the triumph of Sauron nearer. Follow me!"

[Grey_Wolf]

Then Aragorn led the way, and such was the strength of his will in that hour that all the Dúnedain on their bikes followed him. And indeed the love that the Rangers bore for their leader was so great that they were willing to face even the terror of the Door. But Arod, the bike of Rohan, suffered a mechanical breakdown and would not budge. Until Legolas laid his hands on the engine and sang some words that went soft in the gloom, until the machine suffered itself to be led, and Legolas passed in. And there stood Gimli the Dwarf left all alone.

His knees shook, and he was wroth with himself. "Here is a thing unheard of!" he said. "An Elf will go underground and a Dwarf dare not!" With that he plunged in. But it seemed to him that he dragged his feet like lead over the threshold; and at once a blindness came upon him, even upon Gimli Glóin's son who had walked unafraid in many deep places of the world.

Aragorn had brought flashlights from Dunharrow, and now he went ahead holding it ahead of him; and Elladan with another went at the rear, and Gimli, stumbling behind, strove to overtake him. He could see nothing but the dim light of the flashlights; but if the company halted, there seemed an endless whisper of voices all about him, a murmur of words in no tongue that he had ever heard before and a the heavy beat of Death Metal came out of the walls of the Path:

He had enough
He couldn't take anymore
He'd found a place
In his mind and slammed the door
No matter how they tried
They couldn't understand
They washed and dressed him
Fed him by hand

Yeah! i've left the world behind
I'm safe here in my mind
Free to speak with my own kind
This is my life, this is my life
I'll decide not you

Withdrawn he'd sit there
Stare blank into space
No sign of life
Would flicker on his face
Until one day he smiled
It seemed as though with pride
The wind kissed him
Goodbye - and then he died

Yeah! i've left the world behind
I'm safe here in my mind
Free to speak with my own kind
This is my life, this is my life
I'll decide not you

Keep the world with all its sin
It's not fit for livin' in
Yeah! i will start again
It can take forever, and ever, and ever
And ever, but i'll still win.

How many like him,
Are there still
But to us, all
Seem to have lost the will
They lie in thousands
Plagued and lost
Is nothing worth this bitter cost

Yeah! i've left the world behind
I'm safe here in my mind
Free to speak with my own kind
This is my life, this is my life
I'll decide not youkeep the world with all its sin
It's not fit for livin' in

Beyond the realms of death.

Nothing assailed the company nor withstood their passage, and yet steadily fear grew on the Dwarf as he went on: most of all because he knew now that there could be no turning back; all the paths behind were thronged by an unseen host that followed in the dark.

So time unreckoned passed, until Gimli saw a sight that he was ever afterwards loth to recall. The road was wide, as far as he could judge, but now the company came suddenly into a great empty space, and there were no longer any walls upon either side. The dread was so heavy on him that he could hardly walk. Away to the left something glittered in the gloom as Aragorn's flashlight drew near. Then Aragorn halted and went to look what it might be.
"Does he feel no fear?" muttered the Dwarf. "In any other cave Gimli Glóin's son would have been the first to run to the gleam of gold. But not here! Let it lie!"

[Grey_Wolf]

Nonetheless he drew near, and saw Aragorn kneeling, while Elladan held forth his flashlight. Before him were the bones of a mighty man. He had been clad in bodyarmour, and still his camouflaged combat fatigues lay there whole; for the cavern's air was as dry as dust, and his M-16 combat rifle was gilded. His belt was of gold and garnets, and rich with gold was the kevlarbased helmet upon his bony head face downward on the floor. He had fallen near the far wall of the cave, as now could be seen, and before him stood a stony door closed fast: his finger-bones were still clawing at the cracks. A notched and broken sword lay by him, as if he had hewn at the rock in his last despair.

Aragorn did not touch him, but after gazing silently for a while he rose and sighed. "Hither shall the flowers of simbelmynë come never unto world's end," he murmured. "Nine mounds and seven there are now green with grass, and through all the long years he has lain at the door that he could not unlock. Whither does it lead? Why would he pass? None shall ever know!
"For that is not my errand!" he cried, turning back and speaking to the whispering darkness behind. "Keep your hoards and your secrets hidden in the Accursed Years! Speed only we ask. Let us pass, and then come! I summon you to the Stone of Erech!"

There was no answer, unless it were an utter silence more dreadful than the whispers before; and then a chill blast came in which the flashlights flickered and went out as if something magical affected the batteries, and could not be relit. Of the time that followed, one hour or many, Gimli remembered little. The others pressed on, but he was ever hindmost, pursued by a groping horror that seemed always just about to seize him; and a rumour came after him like the shadow-sound of many feet. He stumbled on until he was crawling like a beast on the ground and felt that he could endure no more: he must either find an ending and escape or run back in madness to meet the following fear.

Suddenly he heard the tinkle of water, a sound hard and clear as a stone falling into a dream of dark shadow. Light grew, and lo! the company passed through another gateway, high-arched and broad, and a rill ran out beside them; and beyond, going steeply down, was a road between sheer cliffs, knife-edged against the sky far above. So deep and narrow was that chasm that the sky was dark, and in it small stars glinted. Yet as Gimli after learned it was still two hours ere sunset of the day on which they had set out from Dunharrow; though for all that he could then tell it might have been twilight in some later year, or in some other world.

[Grey_Wolf]

The Company now mounted their bikes again, and Gimli returned to Legolas. They drove in file, and evening came on and a deep blue dusk; and still fear pursued them. Legolas turning to speak to Gimli looked back and the Dwarf saw before his face the glitter in the Elf's bright eyes. Behind them rode Elladan, last of the Company, but not the last of those that took the downward road.
"The Dead are following," said Legolas. "I see shapes of Men and of ghostly vehicles, and pale banners like shreds of cloud, and spears like winter-thickets on a misty night. The Dead are following."
"Yes, the Dead drive behind. They have been summoned," said Elladan.

The Company came at last out of the ravine, as suddenly as it they had issued from a crack in a wall; and there lay the uplands of a great vale before them, and the stream beside them went down with a cold voice over many falls.
"Where in Middle-earth are we?" said Gimli; and Elladan answered: "We have descended from the uprising of the Morthond, the long chill river that flows at last to the sea that washes the walls of Dol Amroth. You will not need to ask hereafter how comes its name: Blackroot men call it."

The Morthond Vale made a great bay that beat up against the sheer southern faces of the mountains. Its steep slopes were grass-grown; but all was grey in that hour, for the sun had gone, and far below lights twinkled in the homes of Men. The vale was rich and many folk dwelt there.

Then without turning Aragorn cried aloud so that all could hear: "Friends, forget your weariness! Drive now, drive! We must come to the Stone of Erech ere this day passes, and long still is the way." So without looking back they rode the mountain-fields, until they came to a bridge over the growing torrent and found a road that went down into the land.

[Grey_Wolf]

Lights went out in house and hamlet as they came, and doors were shut, and folk that were afield cried in terror and ran wild like hunted deer. Ever there rose the same cry in the gathering night: "The King of the Dead! The King of the Dead is come upon us!"

Bells were ringing far below, and all men fled before the face of Aragorn; but the Grey Company in their haste to to reach their goal didn't let the bells bother them . And thus, just ere midnight, and in a darkness as black as the caverns in the mountains, they came at last to the Hill of Erech.

Long had the terror of the Dead lain upon that hill and upon the empty fields about it. For upon the top stood a black stone, round as a great globe, the height of a man, though its half was buried in the ground. Unearthly it looked, as though it had fallen from the sky, as some believed; but those who remembered still the lore of Westernesse told that it had been brought out of the ruin of Númenor and there set by Isildur at his landing. None of the people of the valley dared to approach it, nor would they dwell near; for they said that it was a trysting-place of the Shadow-men, and there they would gather in times of fear, thronging round the Stone and whispering.

[Grey_Wolf]

To that Stone the Company came and halted in the dead of night. Then Elrohir gave to Aragorn a silver loudspeaker, and he shouted in it and it seemed to those that stood near that they heard a sound of answering loudspeakers, as if it was an echo in deep caves far away. No other sound they heard, and yet they were aware of a great host gathered all about the hill on which they stood; and a chill wind like the breath of ghosts came down from the mountains. But Aragorn dismounted, and standing by the Stone he cried in a great voice:
"Breakers of the Contract. Why have ye come?"And a voice was heard out of the night that answered him, as if from far away:
"To fulfil our oath and have peace."

Then Aragorn said: "The hour is come at last. Now I go to Pelargir upon Anduin, and ye shall come after me. And when all this land is clean of the servants of Sauron, I will hold the oath fulfilled, and ye shall have peace and depart for ever. For I am Elessar, Isildur's heir of Gondor."

And with that he bade Halbarad unfurl the great standard which he had brought; and behold! it was black, and if there was any device upon it, it was hidden in the darkness. Then there was silence, and not a whisper nor a sigh was heard again all the long night. The Company camped beside the Stone, but they slept little, because of the dread of the Shadows that hedged them round.

But when the dawn came, cold and pale, Aragorn rose at once, and he led the Company forth upon the journey of greatest haste and weariness that any among them had known, save he alone, and only his will held them to go on. No other mortal Men could have endured it, none but the Dúnedain of the North, and with them Gimli the Dwarf and Legolas of the Elves.

They passed Tarlang's Neck and came into Lamedon; and the Shadow Host pressed behind and fear went on before them, until they came to Calembel upon Ciril, and the sun went down like blood behind Pinnath Gelin away in the West behind them. The township and the fords of Ciril they found deserted, for many men had gone away to war, and all that were left fled to the hills at the rumour of the coming of the King of the Dead. But the next day there came no dawn, and the Grey Company passed on into the darkness of the Storm of Mordor and were lost to mortal sight; but the Dead followed them.

[Grey_Wolf]

Book 5.3: The Muster of Rohan

Now all roads were running together to the East to meet the coming of war and the onset of the Shadow. And even as Pippin stood at the Great Gate of the City and saw the Prince of Dol Amroth ride in with his banners, the King of Rohan came down out of the hills.

Day was waning. In the last rays of the sun the Bikers cast long pointed shadows that went on before them. Darkness had already crept beneath the murmuring fir-woods that clothed the steep mountain-sides. The king drove now slowly at the end of the day. Presently the path turned round a huge bare shoulder of rock and plunged into the gloom of soft-sighing trees. Down, down they went in a long winding file. When at last they came to the bottom of the gorge they found that evening had fallen in the deep places. The sun was gone. Twilight lay upon the waterfalls.

All day far below them a leaping stream had run down from the high pass behind, cleaving its narrow way between pine-clad walls; and now through a stony gate it flowed out and passed into a wider vale. The Bikers followed it, and suddenly Harrowdale lay before them, loud with the noise of waters in the evening. There the white Snowbourn, joined by the lesser stream, went rushing, fuming on the stones, down to Edoras and the green hills and the plains. Away to the right at the head of the great dale the mighty Starkhorn loomed up above its vast buttresses swathed in cloud; but its jagged peak, clothed in everlasting snow, gleamed far above the world, blue-shadowed upon the East, red-stained by the sunset in the West.

Merry looked out in wonder upon this strange country, of which he had heard many tales upon their long road. It was a skyless world, in which his eye; through dim gulfs of shadowy air, saw only ever-mounting slopes, great walls of stone behind great walls, and frowning precipices wreathed with mist. He sat for a moment half dreaming, listening to the noise of water, the whisper of dark trees, the crack of stone, and the vast waiting silence that brooded behind all sound. He loved mountains, or he had loved the thought of them marching on the edge of stories brought from far away; but now he was borne down by the insupportable weight of Middle-earth. He longed to shut out the immensity in a quiet room by a fire.

He was very tired, for though they had driven slowly, they had driven with very little rest. Hour after hour for nearly three weary days he had rolled up and down, over passes, and through long dales, and across many streams. Sometimes where the way was broader he had driven at the king's side, not noticing that many of the Bikers smiled to see the two together: the hobbit on his little dirtbike, and the Lord of Rohan on his white Chopper. Then he had talked to Théoden, telling him about his home and the doings of the Shire-folk, or listening in turn to tales of the Mark and its mighty men of old. But most of the time, especially on this last day, Merry had driven by himself just behind the king, saying nothing, and trying to understand the slow sonorous speech of Rohan that he heard the men behind him using. It was a language in which there seemed to be many words that he knew, though spoken more richly and strongly than in the Shire, yet he could not piece the words together. At times some Biker would lift up his clear voice in stirring song, and Merry felt his heart leap, though he did not know what it was about.

[Telcontar_Dunedain]

Slowly the company progressed and by nightfally they reached the stronghold of Dunharrow, in the hills, and there awaiting them was the fair lady Eowyn.

[ofthewind]

a fine day, a gentle breeze... a perfect day for setting up his stall in the hobbiton bazaar.. hopefully he'd find some halfings gullible enough to buy his stories and, if he got really lucky.. a few of his fire crackers!!! and so with high hopes Gandalf sets up his booth.. his first customer... a particularly vicious looking dwarf purchases an armload of fire crackers after being assured repeatedly by the old wizard that no finer samples exist.. hurriedly pocketing the gold Gandalf tries to magically 'disapper' with his stall but he is not fast enough... his customer, with smoking beard and singed eyebrows lays hold of him by his neck and............
finish the tale someone.. I'm out of ideas!!!!

[Grey_Wolf]

...Gandalf daydreamed a bit, reminicing about the happy days at the Hobbiton Bazaar. Yet now there was more important stuff to consider.

Back in Rohan....

[Butterbeer]

the song took merry back and merry too daydreamed ... ah the old hobbiton bazaar ... he remembered fondly how one time a Dwarf had shown up while gandalf had been there: what larks! The singed dwarf taking a swing at gandalf ... gandalf his bushy eyebrows standing on end picking the dwarf up by his beard and tossing him into the Mill pond....


Aaah he memories ....

meanwhile back with pippin ....

[Grey_Wolf]

OCC: we're in the chapter called "The muster of Rohan", just so u you.

Eowyn stepped forward and.
"Hail, My General!" 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 shadows 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 pavilion. There Merry found that everything was made ready, and that he himself was not forgotten. A little tent had been pitched for him beside the king's lodging; and there he sat alone, while men passed to and fro, going in to the king and taking counsel with him. Night came on, and the half-seen heads of the mountains westward were crowned with stars, but the East was dark and blank. The marching stones faded slowly from sight, but still beyond them, blacker than the gloom, brooded the vast crouching shadow of the Dwimorberg.

[Grey_Wolf]

"The Paths of the Dead," he muttered to himself. "The Paths of the Dead? What does all this mean? They have all left me now. They have all gone to some doom: Gandalf and Pippin to war in the East; and Sam and Frodo to Mordor; and Strider and Legolas and Gimli to the Paths of the Dead. But my turn will come soon enough, I suppose. I wonder what they are all talking about, and what the General means to do. For I must go where he goes now."

In the midst of these gloomy thoughts he suddenly remembered that he was very hungry, and he got up to go and see if anyone else in this strange camp felt the same. But at that very moment a trumpet sounded, and a man came summoning him, the king's esquire, to wait at the general's board.

In the inner part of the pavilion was a small space, curtained off with broidered hangings, and strewn with skins: and there at a small table sat Théoden with Éomer and Éowyn, and Dúnhere, lord of Harrowdale. Merry stood beside the king's stool and waited on him till presently the old man, coming out of deep thought, turned to him and smiled.
"Come, Master Meriadoc!" he said. "You shall not stand. You shall sit beside me, as long as I remain in my own lands, and lighten my heart with tales."

Room was made for the hobbit at the general's left hand, but no one called for any tale. There was indeed little speech, and they ate and drank for the most part in silence, until at last, plucking up courage, Merry asked the question that was tormenting him.
"Twice now, lord, I have heard of the Paths of the Dead," he said. "What are they? And where has Strider, I mean the Lord Aragorn where has he gone?"

[Grey_Wolf]

The king sighed, but no one answered, until at last Éomer spoke. "We do not know, and our hearts are heavy," he said. "But as for the Paths of the Dead, you have yourself walked on their first steps. Nay. I speak no words of ill omen! The road that we have climbed is the approach to the Door, yonder in the Dimholt. But what lies beyond no man knows."
"No man knows," said Théoden: "yet ancient legend, now seldom spoken, has somewhat to report. If these old tales speak true that have come down from father to son in the House of Eorl, then the Door under Dwimorberg leads to a secret way that goes beneath the mountain to some forgotten end. But none have ever ventured in to search its secrets, since Baldor, son of Brego, passed the Door and was never seen among men again. A rash vow he spoke, as he drained the horn at that feast which Brego made to hallow new-built Meduseld, and he came never to the high seat of which he was the heir.

[Grey_Wolf]

"Folk say that Dead Men out of the Dark Years guard the way and will suffer no living man to come to their hidden halls; but at whiles they may themselves be seen passing out of the door like shadows and down the stony road. Then the people of Harrowdale shut fast their doors and shroud their windows and are afraid. But the Dead come seldom forth and only at times of great unquiet and coming death."
"Yet it is said in Harrowdale," said Éowyn in a low voice. "that in the moonless nights but little while ago a great host in strange array passed by. Whence they came none knew, but they went up the stony road and vanished into the hill, as if they went to keep a tryst."
"Then why has Aragorn gone that way?" asked Merry. "Don't you know anything that would explain it?"
"Unless he has spoken words to you as his friend that we have not heard," said Éomer, "none now in the land of the living can tell his purpose."
"Greatly changed he seemed to me since I saw him first in the king's house," said Éowyn: "grimmer, older. Fey I thought him, and like one whom the Dead call."
"Maybe he was called," said Théoden; "and my heart tells me that I shall not see him again. Yet he is a kingly man of high destiny. And take comfort in this, daughter, since comfort you seem to need in your grief for this guest. It is said that when the Eorlingas came out of the North and passed at length up the Snowbourn, seeking strong places of refuge in time of need, Brego and his son Baldor climbed the Stair of the Hold and so came before the Door. On the threshold sat an old man, aged beyond guess of years; tall and kingly he had been, but now he was withered as an old stone. Indeed for stone they took him, for he moved not, and he said no word, until they sought to pass him by and enter. And then a voice came out of him, as it were out of the ground, and to their amaze it spoke in the western tongue: The way is shut.

[Grey_Wolf]

"Then they halted and looked at him and saw that he lived still; but he did not look at them. The way is shut, his voice said again It was made by those who are Dead, and the Dead keep it, until the time comes. The way is shut.
"And when will that time be?said Baldor. But no answer did he ever get. For the old man died in that hour and fell upon his face; and no other tidings of the ancient dwellers in the mountains have our folk ever learned. Yet maybe at last the time foretold has come, and Aragorn may pass."
"But how shall a man discover whether that time be come or no, save by daring the Door?" said Éomer. "And that way I would not go though all the hosts of Mordor stood before me, and I were alone and had no other refuge. Alas that a fey mood should fall on a man so greathearted in this hour of need! Are there not evil things enough abroad without seeking them under the earth? War is at hand."

He paused, for at that moment there was a noise outside, a man's voice crying the name of Théoden, and the challenge of the guard.

Presently the captain of the Guard thrust aside the curtain. "A man is here, lord," he said, "an errand-biker of Gondor. He wishes to come before you at once."
"Let him come!" said Théoden.

A tall man entered, and Merry choked back a cry; for a moment it seemed to him that Boromir was alive again and had returned. Then he saw that it was not so; the man was a stranger, though as like to Boromir as if he were one of his kin, tall and grey-eyed and proud. He was clad as a rider with a camouflagejacket of dark green over his bodyarmour; on the front of his helmet was wrought a small silver star. In his hand he bore a pad computor, coloured black & silver , and which screen was tainted red.

He sank on one knee and presented the pad to Théoden. "Hail General of the Rohirrim, friend of Gondor!" he said. "Hirgon I am, errand-biker of Denethor, who bring you this token of war. Gondor is in great need. Often the Rohirrim have aided us, but now the CA Denethor asks for all your strength and all your speed; lest Gondor fall at last."

[Grey_Wolf]

"The Red Screen!" said Théoden, holding it, as one who receives a summons long expected and yet dreadful when it comes. His hand trembled. "The Red Screen has not been seen in the Mark in all my years! Has it indeed come to that? And what does the CA Denethor reckon that all my strength and all my speed may be?"
"That is best known to yourself, lord," said Hirgon. "But ere long it may well come to pass that Minas Tirith is surrounded, and unless you have the strength to break a siege of many powers, the CA Denethor bids me say that he judges that the strong arms of the Rohirrim would be better within his walls than without."
"But he knows that we are a people who fight rather upon bikes and in the open, and that we are also a scattered people and time is needed for the gathering of our Bikers. Is it not true, Hirgon, that the Lord of Minas Tirith knows more than he sets in his message? For we are already at war, as you may have seen, and you do not find us all unprepared. Gandalf the Grey has been among us, and even now we are mustering for battle in the East."

[Grey_Wolf]

"What the Lord Denethor may know or guess of all these things I cannot say," answered Hirgon. "But indeed our case is desperate. My lord does not issue any command to you, he begs you only to remember old friendship and oaths long spoken, and for your own good to do all that you may. It is reported to us that many kings have ridden in from the East to the service of Mordor. From the North to the field of Dagorlad there is skirmish and rumour of war. In the South the Haradrim are moving, and fear has fallen on all our coastlands, so that little help will come to us thence. Make haste! For it is before the walls of Minas Tirith that the doom of our time will be decided, and if the tide be not stemmed there, then it will flow over all the fair fields of Rohan, and even in this Hold among the hills there shall be no refuge."
"Dark tidings," said Théoden, "yet not all unguessed. But say to Denethor that even if Rohan itself felt no peril, still we would come to his aid. But we have suffered much loss in our battles with Saruman the traitor, and we must still think of our frontier to the north and east, as his own tidings make clear. So great a power as the Dark Lord seems now to wield might well contain us in battle before the City and yet strike with great force across the River away beyond the Gate of Kings.
"But we will speak no longer counsels of prudence. We will come. The weapontake was set for the morrow. When all is ordered we will set out. Ten thousand rifles I might have sent riding over the plain to the dismay of your foes. It will be less now, I fear; for I will not leave my strongholds all unguarded. Yet six thousands at the least shall ride behind me. For say to Denethor that in this hour the General of the Mark himself will come down to the land of Gondor, though maybe he will not ride back. But it is a long road, and man and beast must reach the end with strength to fight. A week it may be from tomorrow's morn ere you hear the cry of the Sons of Eorl coming from the North.