Властелин колец: Две башни
The King of the Golden Hall
Buthereandtherebrightsunbeamsfellinglimmeringshaftsfromtheeasternwindows,highunderthedeepeaves.Throughthelouverintheroof,abovethethinwispsofissuingsmoke,theskyshowedpaleandblue.Astheireyeschanged,thetravellersperceivedthatthefloorwaspavedwithstonesofmanyhues;branchingrunesandstrangedevicesintertwinedbeneaththeirfeet.Theysawnowthatthepillarswererichlycarved,gleamingdullywithgoldandhalf-seencolours.Manywovenclothswerehunguponthewalls,andovertheirwidespacesmarchedfiguresofancientlegend,somedimwithyears,somedarklingintheshade.Butupononeformthesunlightfell:ayoungmanuponawhitehorse.Hewasblowingagreathorn,andhisyellowhairwasflyinginthewind.Thehorse’sheadwaslifted,anditsnostrilswerewideandredasitneighed,smellingbattleafar.Foamingwater,greenandwhite,rushedandcurledaboutitsknees.
’BeholdEorltheYoung!’saidAragorn.’ThusherodeoutoftheNorthtotheBattleoftheFieldofCelebrant.’
Nowthefourcompanionswentforward,pasttheclearwood-fireburninguponthelonghearthinthemidstofthehall.Thentheyhalted.Atthefarendofthehouse,beyondthehearthandfacingnorthtowardsthedoors,wasadaiswiththreesteps;andinthemiddleofthedaiswasagreatgildedchair.Uponitsatamansobentwithagethatheseemedalmostadwarf;buthiswhitehairwaslongandthickandfellingreatbraidsfrombeneathathingoldencirclesetuponhisbrow.
