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with a stinging rod。 Rage filled him and his mouth slavered； and shapeless sounds of fury came
strangling from his throat。 But he looked at the fell faces of the Captains and their deadly eyes； and
fear overcame his wrath。 He gave a great cry； and turned； leaped upon his steed； and with his
pany galloped madly back to Cirith Gorgor。 But as they went his soldiers blew their horns in
signal long arranged； and even before they came to the gate Sauron sprang his trap。
Drums rolled and fires leaped up。 The great doors of the Black Gate swung back wide。 Out of it
streamed a great host as swiftly as swirling waters when a sluice is lifted。
The Captains mounted again and rode back； and from the host of Mordor there went up a jeering
yell。 Dust rose smothering the air； as from nearby there marched up an army of Easterlings that had
waited for the signal in the shadows of Ered Lithui beyond the further Tower。 Down from the hills
on either side of the Morannon poured Orcs innumerable。 The men of the West were trapped； and
soon。 all about the grey mounds where they stood； forces ten times and more than ten times their
match would ring them in a sea of enemies。 Sauron had taken the proffered bait in jaws of steel。
Little time was left to Aragorn for the ordering of his battle。 Upon the one hill he stood with
Gandalf； and there fair and desperate was raised the banner of the Tree and Stars。 Upon the other
hill hard by stood the banners of Rohan and Dol Amroth； White Horse and Silver Swan。 And about
each hill a ring was made facing all ways； bristling with spear and sword。 But in the front towards
Mordor where the first bitter assault would e there stood the sons of Elrond on the left with the
Dúnedain about them； and on the right the Prince Imrahil with the men of Dol Amroth tall and fair；
and picked men of the Tower of Guard。
The wind blew； and the trumpets sang； and arrows whined； but the sun now climbing towards
the South was veiled in the reeks of Mordor； and through a threatening haze it gleamed； remote； a
sullen red； as if it were the ending of the day； or the end maybe of all the world of light。 And out of
the gathering mirk the Nazg？l came with。 their cold voices crying words of death； and then all hope
was quenched。
Pippin had bowed crushed with horror when he heard Gandalf reject the terms and doom Frodo
to the torment of the Tower； but he had mastered himself； and now he stood beside Beregond in the
front rank of Gondor with Imrahil's men。 For it seemed best to him to die soon and leave the bitter
story of his life； since all was in ruin。
'I wish Merry was here；' he heard himself saying； and quick thoughts raced through his mind；
even as he watched the enemy e charging to the assault。 'Well； well； now at any rate I
understand poor Denethor a little better。 We might die together； Merry and I； and since die we must；
why not？ Well； as he is not here； I hope he'll find an easier end。 But now I must do my best。'
He drew his sword and looked at it； and the intertwining shapes of red and gold； and the flowing
characters of Númenor glinted like fire upon the blade。 'This was made for just such an hour；' he
thought。 'If only I could smite that foul Messenger with it； then almost I should draw level with old
Merry。 Well； I'll smite some of this beastly brood before the end。 I wish I could see cool sunlight
and green grass again！'
Then even as he thought these things the first assault crashed into them。 The orcs hindered by
the mires that lay before the hills halted and poured their arrows into the defending ranks。 But
through them there came striding up； roaring like beasts； a great pany of hill…trolls out of
Gorgoroth。 Taller and broader than Men they were； and they were clad only in close…fitting mesh of
horny scales； or maybe that was their hideous hide； but they bore round bucklers huge and black
and wielded heavy hammers in their knotted hands。 Reckless they sprang into the pools and waded
across； bellowing as they came。 Like a storm they broke upon the line of the men of Gondor； and
beat upon helm and head； and arm and shield as smiths hewing the hot bending iron。 At Pippin's
side Beregond was stunned and overborne； and he fell； and the great troll…chief that smote him
down bent over him； reaching out a clutching claw； for these fell creatures would bite the throats of
those that they threw down。
Then Pippin stabbed upwards； and the written blade of Westernesse pierced through the hide
and went deep into the vitals of the troll； and his black blood came gushing out。 He toppled forward
and came crashing down like a falling rock； burying those beneath him。 Blackness and stench and
crushing pain came upon Pippin； and his mind fell away into a great darkness。
'So it ends as I guessed it would；' his thought said； even as it fluttered away； and it laughed a
little within him ere it fled； almost gay it seemed to be casting off at last all doubt and care and fear。
And then even as it winged away into forgetfulness it heard voices； and they seemed to be crying in
some forgotten world far above：
'The Eagles are ing！ The Eagles are ing！'
For one moment more Pippin's thought hovered。 'Bilbo！' it said。 'But no！ That came in his tale；
long long ago。 This is my tale； and it is ended now。 Good…bye！' And his thought fled far away and
his eyes saw no more。
_Chapter 1_
The Tower of Cirith Ungol
Sam roused himself painfully from the ground。 For a moment he wondered where he was； and
then all the misery and despair returned to him。 He was in the deep dark outside the under…gate of
the orcs' stronghold； its brazen doors were shut。 He must have fallen stunned when he hurled
himself against them； but how long he had lain there he did not know。 Then he had been on fire；
desperate and furious； now he was shivering and cold。 He crept to the doors and pressed his ears
against them。
Far within he could hear faintly the voices of ores clamouring； but soon they stopped or passed
out of hearing； and all was still。 His head ached and his eyes saw phantom lights in the darkness；
but he struggled to steady himself and think。 It was clear at any rate that he had no hope of getting
into the orc…hold by that gate； he might wait there for days before it was opened； and he could not
wait： time was desperately precious。 He no longer had any doubt about his duty： he must rescue his
master or perish in the attempt。
'The perishing is more likely； and will be a lot easier anyway；' he said grimly to himself； as he
sheathed Sting and turned from the brazen doors。 Slowly he groped his way back in the dark along
the tunnel； not daring to use the elven…light； and as he went he tried to fit together the events since
Frodo and he had left the Cross…roads。 He wondered what the time was。 Somewhere between one
day and the next； he supposed； but even of the days he had quite lost count。 He was in a land of
darkness where the days of the world seemed forgotten； and where all who entered were forgotten
too。
'I wonder if th