The King of the Golden Hall

           Theyrodeonthroughsunset,andslowdusk,andgatheringnight.Whenatlasttheyhaltedanddismounted,evenAragornwasstiffandweary.Gandalfonlyallowedthemafewhours’rest.LegolasandGimlisleptandAragornlayflat,stretcheduponhisback;butGandalfstood,leaningonhisstaff,gazingintothedarkness,eastandwest.Allwassilent,andtherewasnosignorsoundoflivingthing.Thenightwasbarredwithlongclouds,fleetingonachillwind,whentheyaroseagain.Underthecoldmoontheywentononcemore,asswiftasbythelightofday.

           Hourspassedandstilltheyrodeon.Gimlinoddedandwouldhavefallenfromhisseat,ifGandalfhadnotclutchedandshakenhim.HasufelandArod,wearybutproud,followedtheirtirelessleader,agreyshadowbeforethemhardlytoheseen.Themileswentby.ThewaxingmoonsankintothecloudyWest.

           Abitterchillcameintotheair.SlowlyintheEastthedarkfadedtoacoldgrey.RedshaftsoflightleaptabovetheblackwallsoftheEmynMuilfarawayupontheirleft.Dawncameclearandbright;awindsweptacrosstheirpath,rushingthroughthebentgrasses.SuddenlyShadowfaxstoodstillandneighed.Gandalfpointedahead.

           ’Look!’hecried,andtheyliftedtheirtiredeyes.BeforethemstoodthemountainsoftheSouth:white-tippedandstreakedwithblack.Thegrass-landsrolledagainstthehillsthatclusteredattheirfeet,andflowedupintomanyvalleysstilldimanddark,untouchedbythelightofdawn,windingtheirwayintotheheartofthegreatmountains.