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'Were the breath of the West Wind to take a body visible； even so would
it appear；' said Jomer； as the great horse ran up； until he stood before the
wizard。
'The gift seems already to be given；' said Thjoden。 'But hearken all！
Here now I name my guest； Gandalf Greyhame； wisest of counsellors； most
wele of wanderers； a lord of the Mark； a chieftain of the Eorlingas while
our kin shall last； and I give to him Shadowfax； prince of horses。'
'I thank you； Thjoden King；' said Gandalf。 Then suddenly he threw back
his grey cloak； and cast aside his hat； and leaped to horseback。 He wore no
helm nor mail。 His snowy hair flew free in the wind； his white robes shone
dazzling in the sun。
'Behold the White Rider！' cried Aragorn； and all took up the words。
'Our King and the White Rider！' they shouted。 'Forth Eorlingas！'
The trumpets sounded。 The horses reared and neighed。 Spear clashed on
shield。 Then the king raised his hand； and with a rush like the sudden onset
of a great wind the last host of Rohan rode thundering into the West。 Far
over the plain Jowyn saw the glitter of their spears； as she stood still；
alone before the doors of the silent house。
Chapter 7。 Helm's Deep
The sun was already westering as they rode from Edoras； and the light
of it was in their eyes； turning all the rolling fields of Rohan to a golden
haze。 There was a beaten way； north…westward along the foot…hills of the
White Mountains； and this they followed； up and down in a green country；
crossing small swift streams by many fords。 Far ahead and to their right the
Misty Mountains loomed； ever darker and taller they grew as the miles went
by。 The sun went slowly down before them。 Evening came behind。
The host rode on。 Need drove them。 Fearing to e too late； they rode
with all the speed they could； pausing seldom。 Swift and enduring were the
steeds of Rohan； but there were many leagues to go。 Forty leagues and more
it was； as a bird flies； from Edoras to the fords of the Isen； where they
hoped to find the king's men that held back the hosts of Saruman。
Night closed about them。 At last they halted to make their camp。 They
had ridden for some five hours and were far out upon the western plain； yet
more than half their journey lay still before them。 In a great circle； under
the starry sky and the waxing moon； they now made their bivouac。 They lit no
fires； for they were uncertain of events； but they set a ring of mounted
guards about them； and scouts rode out far ahead； passing like shadows in
the folds of the land。 The slow night passed without tidings or alarm。 At
dawn the horns sounded； and within an hour they took the road again。
There were no clouds overhead yet； but a heaviness was in the air； it
was hot for the season of the year。 The rising sun was hazy； and behind it；
following it slowly up the sky； there was a growing darkness； as of a great
storm moving out of the East。 And away in the North…west there seemed to be
another darkness brooding about the feet of the Misty Mountains； a shadow
that crept down slowly from the Wizard's Vale。
Gandalf dropped back to where Legolas rode beside Jomer。 'You have the
keen eyes of your fair kindred； Legolas；' he said； 'and they can tell a
sparrow from a finch a league off。 Tell me； can you sec anything away yonder
towards Isengard？'
'Many miles lie between；' said Legolas； gazing thither and shading his
eyes with his long hand。 'I can see a darkness。 There are shapes moving in
it； great shapes far away upon the bank of the river； but what they are I
cannot tell。 It is not mist or cloud that defeats my eyes： there is a
veiling shadow that some power lays upon the land； and it marches slowly
down stream。 It is as if the twilight under endless trees were flowing
downwards from the hills。'
'And behind us es a very storm of Mordor；' said Gandalf。 'It will be
a black night。'
As the second day of their riding drew on； the heaviness in the air
increased。 In the afternoon the dark clouds began to overtake them： a sombre
canopy with great billowing edges flecked with dazzling light。 The sun went
down； blood…red in a smoking haze。 The spears of the Riders were tipped with
fire as the last shafts of light kindled the steep faces of the peaks of
Thrihyrne： now very near they stood on the northernmost arm of the White
Mountains； three jagged horns staring at the sunset。 In the last red glow
men in the vanguard saw a black speck； a horseman riding back towards them。
They halted awaiting him。
He came； a weary man with dinted helm and cloven shield。 Slowly he
climbed from his horse and stood there a while gasping。 At length he spoke。
'Is Jomer here？' he asked。 'You e at last； but too late； and with too
little strength。 Things have gone evilly since Thjodred fell。 We were driven
back yesterday over the Isen with great loss； many perished at the crossing。
Then at night fresh forces came over the river against our camp。 All
Isengard must be emptied； and Saruman has armed the wild hillmen and
herd…folk of Dunland beyond the rivers； and these also he loosed upon us。 We
were overmastered。 The shield…wall was broken。 Erkenbrand of Westfold has
drawn off those men he could gather towards his fastness in Helm's Deep。 The
rest are scattered。
'Where is Jomer？ Tell him there is no hope ahead。 He should return to
Edoras before the wolves of Isengard e there。' Thjoden had sat silent；
hidden from the man's sight behind his guards； now he urged his horse
forward。 'e； stand before me； Ceorl！' he said。 'I am here。 The last host
of the Eorlingas has ridden forth。 It will not return without battle。'
The man's face lightened with joy and wonder。 He drew himself up。 Then
he knelt； offering his notched sword to the king。 'mand me； lord！' he
cried。 'And pardon me！ I thought'
'You thought I remained in Meduseld bent like an old tree under winter
snow。 So it was when you rode to war。 But a west wind has shaken the
boughs；' said Thjoden。 'Give this man a fresh horse！ Let us ride to the help
of Erkenbrand！'
While Thjoden was speaking； Gandalf rode a short way ahead； and he sat
there alone； gazing north to Isengard and west to the setting sun。 Now he
came back。
'Ride； Thjoden！' he said。 'Ride to Helm's Deep！ Go not to the Fords of
Isen； and do not tarry in the plain！ I must leave you for a while。 Shadowfax
must bear me now on a swift errand。' Turning to Aragorn and Jomer and the
men of the king's household； he cried： 'Keep well the Lord of the Mark； till
I return。 Await me at Helm's Gate！ Farewell！'
He spoke a word to Shadowfax； and like an arrow from the bow the great
horse sprang away。 Even as they looked he was gone： a flash of silver in the
sunset； a wind over the grass； a shadow that fled and passed from sight。
Snowmane snorted and reared； eager to follow； but only a swift bird o