FREE ESSAY ON LORD OF THE RINGS

LORD OF THE RINGS

J. R. R. Tolkien - The Lord Of The Rings. (3/4)
Part 1: The Fellowship of the Ring
Part 2: The Two Towers
Part 3: The Return of the King
THE RETURN OF THE KING
Book V
Chapter 1 Minas Tirith
Chapter 2 The Passing of the Grey Company
Chapter 3 The Muster of Rohan
Chapter 4 The Siege of Gondor
Chapter 5 The Ride of the Rohirrim
Chapter 6 The Battle of the Pelennor Fields
Chapter 7 The Pyre of Denethor
Chapter 8 The Houses of Healing
Chapter 9 The Last Debate
Chapter 10 The Black Gate Opens
Book VI
Chapter 1 The Tower of Cirith Ungol
Chapter 2 The Land of Shadow
Chapter 3 Mount Doom
Chapter 4 The Field of Cormallen
Chapter 5 The Steward and the King
Chapter 6 Many Partings
Chapter 7 Homeward Bound
Chapter 8 The Scouring of the Shire
Chapter 9 The Grey Havens
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THE RETURN OF THE KING
Pippin looked out from the shelter of Gandalf's cloak. He wondered if he was awake or
still sleeping, still in the swift-moving dream in which he had been wrapped so long
since the great ride began. The dark world was rushing by and the wind sang loudly in his
ears. He could see nothing but the wheeling stars, and away to his right vast shadows
against the sky where the mountains of the South marched past. Sleepily he tried to
reckon the times and stages of their journey, but his memory was drowsy and uncertain.
There had been the first ride at terrible speed without a halt, and then in the dawn he
had seen a pale gleam of gold, and they had come to the silent town and the great empty
house on the hill. And hardly had they reached its shelter when the winged shadow had
passed over once again, and men wilted with fear. But Gandalf had spoken soft words to
him, and he had slept in a corner, tired but uneasy, dimly aware of comings and goings
and of men talking and Gandalf giving orders. And then again riding, riding in the night.
This was the second, no, the third night since he had looked in the Stone. And with that
hideous memory he woke fully, and shivered, and the noise of the wind became filled with
menacing voices.
A light kindled in the sky, a blaze of yellow fire behind dark barriers Pippin cowered
back, afraid for a moment, wondering into what dreadful country Gandalf was bearing him.
He rubbed his eyes, and then he saw that it was the moon rising above the eastern
shadows, now almost at the full. So the night was not yet old and for hours the dark
journey would go on. He stirred and spoke.
'Where are we, Gandalf?' he asked.
'In the realm of Gondor,' the wizard answered. 'The land of Anorien is still passing
by.'
There was a silence again for a while. Then, 'What is that?' cried Pippin suddenly,
clutching at Gandalf's cloak. 'Look! Fire, red fire! Are there dragons in this land?
Look, there is another!'
For answer Gandalf cried aloud to his horse. 'On, Shadowfax! We must hasten. Time is
short. See! The beacons of Gondor are alight, calling for aid. War is kindled. See, there
is the fire on Amon Din, and flame on Eilenach; and there they go speeding west: Nardol,
Erelas, Min-Rimmon, Calenhad, and the Halifirien on the borders of Rohan.'
But Shadowfax paused in his stride, slowing to a walk, and then he lifted up his head and
neighed. And out of the darkness the answering neigh of other horses came; and presently
the thudding of hoofs was heard, and three riders swept up and passed like flying ghosts
in the moon and vanished into the West. Then Shadowfax gathered himself together and
sprang away, and the night flowed over him like a roaring wind.
Pippin became drowsy again and paid little attention to Gandalf telling him of the
customs of Gondor, and how the Lord of the City had beacons built on the tops of outlying
hills along both borders of the great range, and maintained posts at these points where
fresh horses were always in readiness to bear his errand-riders to Rohan in the North, or
to Belfalas in the South. 'It is long since the beacons of the North were lit,' he said;
'and in the ancient days of Gondor they were not needed, for they had the Seven Stones.'
Pippin stirred uneasily.
'Sleep again, and do not be afraid!' said Gandalf. 'For you are not going like Frodo to
Mordor, but to Minas Tirith, and there you will be as safe as you can be anywhere in
these days. If Gondor falls, or the Ring is taken, then the Shire will be no refuge.'
'You do not comfort me,' said Pippin, but nonetheless sleep crept over him. The last
thing that he remembered before he fell into deep dream was a glimpse of high white
peaks, glimmering like floating isles above the clouds as they caught the light of the
westering moon. He wondered where Frodo was, and if he was already in Mordor, or if he
was dead; and he did not know that Frodo from far away looked on that same moon as it set
beyond Gondor ere the coming of the day.
Pippin woke to the sound of voices. Another day of hiding and a night of journey had
fleeted by. It was twilight: the cold dawn was at hand again, and chill grey mists were
about them. Shadowfax stood steaming with sweat, but he held his neck proudly and showed
no sign of weariness. Many tall men heavily cloaked stood beside him, and behind them in
the mist loomed a wall of stone. Partly ruinous it seemed, but already before the night
was passed the sound of hurried labour could be heard: beat of hammers, clink of trowels,
and the creak of wheels. Torches and flares glowed dully here and there in the fog.
Gandalf was speaking to the men that barred his way, and as he listened Pippin became
aware that he himself was being discussed.
'Yea truly, we know you, Mithrandir,' said the leader of the men, 'and you know the
pass-words of the Seven Gates and are free to go forward. But we do not know your
companion. What is he? A dwarf out of the mountains in the North? We wish for no
strangers in the land at this time, unless they be mighty men of arms in whose faith and
help we can trust.'
'I will vouch for him before the seat of Denethor,' said Gandalf. 'And as for valour,
that cannot be computed by stature. He has passed through more battles and perils than
you have, Ingold, though you be twice his height; and he comes now from the storming of
Isengard, of which we bear tidings, and great weariness is on him, or I would wake him.
His name is Peregrin, a very valiant man.'
'Man?' said Ingold dubiously; and the others laughed.
'Man!' cried Pippin, now thoroughly roused. 'Man! Indeed not! I am a hobbit and no more
valiant than I am a man, save perhaps now and again by necessity. Do not let Gandalf
deceive you!'
'Many a doer of great deeds might say no more,' said Ingold. 'But what is a hobbit?'
'A Halfling,' answered Gandalf. 'Nay, not the one that was spoken of,' he added seeing
the wonder in the men's faces. 'Not he, yet one of his kindred.'
'Yes, and one who journeyed with him,' said Pippin. 'And Boromir of your City was with
us, and he saved me in the snows of the North, and at the last he was slain defending me
from many foes.'
'Peace!' said Gandalf. 'The news of that grief should have been told first to the
father.'
'It has been guessed already,' said Ingold; 'for there have been strange portents here of
late. But pass on now quickly! For the Lord of Minas Tirith will be eager to see any that
bear the latest tidings of his son, be he man or-'
'Hobbit,' said Pippin. 'Little service can I offer to your lord, but what I can do, I
would do, remembering Boromir the brave.'
'Fare you well!' said Ingold; and the men made way for Shadow fax, and he passed through
a narrow gate in the wall. 'May you bring good counsel to Denethor in his need, and to us
all, Mithrandir!' Ingold cried. 'But you come with tidings of grief and danger, as is
your wont, they say.'
'Because I come seldom but when my help is needed,' answered Gandalf. 'And as for
counsel, to you I would say that you are over-late in repairing the wall of the Pelennor.
Courage will now be your best defence against the storm that is at hand - that and such
hope as I bring. For not all the tidings that I bring are evil. But leave your trowels
and sharpen your swords!'
'The work will be finished ere evening,' said Ingold. 'This is the last portion of the
wall to be put in defence: the least open to attack, for it looks towards our friends of
Rohan. Do you know aught of them? Will they answer the summons, think you?'
'Yes, they will come. But they have fought many battles at your back. This road and no
road looks towards safety any longer. Be vigilant! But for Gandalf Stormcrow you would
have seen a host of foes coming out of Anorien and no Riders of Rohan. And you may yet.
Fare you well, and sleep not!'
Gandalf passed now into the wide land beyond the Rammas Echor. So the men of Gondor
called the out wall that they had built with great labour, after Ithilien fell under the
shadow of their Enemy. For ten leagues or more it ran from the mountains' feet and so
back again, enclosing in its fence the fields of the Pelennor: fair and fertile townlands
on the long slopes and terraces falling to the deep levels of the Anduin. At its furthest
point from the Great Gate of the City, north-eastward, the wall was four leagues distant,
and there from a frowning bank it overlooked the long flats beside the river, and men had
made it high and strong; for at that point, upon a walled causeway, the road came in from
the fords and bridges of Osgiliath and passed through a guarded gate between embattled
towers. At its nearest point the wall was little more than one league from the City, and
that was south-eastward. There Anduin, going in a wide knee about the hills of Emyn Arnen
in South Ithilien, bent sharply west, and the out-wall rose upon its very brink; and
beneath it lay the quays and landings of the Harlond for craft that came upstream from
the southern fiefs.
The townlands were rich, with wide tilth and many orchards, and homesteads there were
with oast and garner, fold and byre, and many rills rippling through the green from the
highlands down to Anduin. Yet the herdsmen and husbandmen that dwelt there were not many,
and the most part of the people of Gondor lived in the seven circles of the City, or in
the high vales of the mountain-borders, in Lossarnach, or further south in fair Lebennin
with its five swift streams. There dwelt a hardy folk between the mountains and the sea.
They were reckoned men of Gondor, yet their blood was mingled, and there were short and
swarthy folk among them whose sires came more from the forgotten men who housed in the
shadow of the hills in the Dark Years ere the coming of the kings. But beyond, in the
great fief of Belfalas, dwelt Prince Imrahil in his castle of Dol Amroth by the sea, and
he was of high blood, and his folk also, tall men and proud with sea-grey eyes.
Now after Gandalf had ridden for some time the light of day grew in the sky, and Pippin
roused himself and looked up. To his left lay a sea of mist, rising to a bleak shadow in
the East; but to his right great mountains reared their heads, ranging from the West to a
steep and sudden end, as if in the making of the land the River had burst through a great
barrier, carving out a mighty valley to be a land of battle and debate in times to come.
And there where the White Mountains of Ered Nimrais came to their end he saw, as Gandalf
had promised, the dark mass of Mount Mindolluin, the deep purple shadows of its high
glens, and its tall face whitening in the rising day. And upon its out-thrust knee was
the Guarded City, with its seven walls of stone so strong and old that it seemed to have
been not builded but carven by giants out of the bones of the earth.
Even as Pippin gazed in wonder the walls passed from looming grey to white, blushing
faintly in the dawn; and suddenly the sun climbed over the eastern shadow and sent forth
a shaft that smote the face of the City. Then Pippin cried aloud, for the Tower of
Ecthelion, standing high within the topmost walls' shone out against the sky, glimmering
like a spike of pearl and silver, tall and fair and shapely, and its pinnacle glittered
as if it were wrought of crystals; and white banners broke and fluttered from the
battlements in the morning breeze' and high and far he heard a clear ringing as of silver
trumpets.
So Gandalf and Peregrin rode to the Great Gate of the Men of Gondor at the rising of the
sun, and its iron doors rolled back before them.
'Mithrandir! Mithrandir!' men cried. 'Now we know that the storm is indeed nigh!'
'It is upon you,' said Gandalf. 'I have ridden on its wings. Let me pass! I must come to
your Lord Denethor, while his stewardship lasts. Whatever betide, you have come to the
end of the Gondor that you have known. Let me pass!'
Then men fell back before the command of his voice and questioned him no further, though
they gazed in wonder at the hobbit that sat before him and at the horse that bore him.
For the people of the City used horses very little and they were seldom seen in their
streets, save only those ridden by the errand-riders of their lord. And they said:
'Surely that is one of the great steeds of the King of Rohan? Maybe the Rohirrim will
come soon to strengthen us.' But Shadowfax walked proudly up the long winding road.
For the fashion of Minas Tirith was such that it was built on seven levels, each delved
into the hill, and about each was set a wall, and in each wall was a gate. But the gates
were not set in a line: the Great Gate in the City Wall was at the east point of the
circuit, but the next faced half south, and the third half north, and so to and fro
upwards; so that the paved way that climbed towards the Citadel turned first this way and
then that across the face of the hill. And each time that it passed the line of the Great
Gate it went through an arched tunnel, piercing a vast pier of rock whose huge out-thrust
bulk divided in two all the circles of the City save the first. For partly in the
primeval shaping of the hill, partly by the mighty craft and labour of old, there stood
up from the rear of the wide court behind the Gate a towering bastion of stone, its edge
sharp as a ship-keel facing east. Up it rose, even to the level of the topmost circle,
and there was crowned by a battlement; so that those in the Citadel might, like mariners
in a mountainous ship, look from its peak sheer down upon the Gate seven hundred feet
below. The entrance to the Citadel also looked eastward, but was delved in the heart of
the rock; thence a long lamp-lit slope ran up to the seventh gate. Thus men reached at
last the High Court, and the Place of the Fountain before the feet of the White Tower:
tall and shapely, fifty fathoms from its base to the pinnacle, where the banner of the
Stewards floated a thousand feet above the plain.
A strong citadel it was indeed, and not to be taken by a host of enemies, if there were
any within that could hold weapons; unless some foe could come behind and scale the lower
skirts of Mindolluin, and so come upon the narrow shoulder that joined the Hill of Guard
to the mountain mass. But that shoulder, which rose to the height of the fifth wall, was
hedged with great ramparts right up to the precipice that overhung its western end; and
in that space stood the houses and domed tombs of bygone kings and lords, for ever silent
between the mountain and the tower.
Pippin gazed in growing wonder at the great stone city, vaster and more splendid than
anything that he had dreamed of; greater and stronger than Isengard, and far more
beautiful. Yet it was in truth falling year by year into decay; and already it lacked
half the men that could have dwelt at ease there. In every street they passed some great
house or court over whose doors and arched gates were carved many fair letters of strange
and ancient shapes: names Pippin guessed of great men and kindreds that had once dwelt
there; and yet now they were silent, and no footsteps rang on their wide pavements, nor
voice was heard in their halls, nor any face looked out from door or empty window.
At last they came out of shadow to the seventh gate, and the warm sun that shone down
beyond the river, as Frodo walked in the glades of Ithilien, glowed here on the smooth
walls and rooted pillars, and the great arch with keystone carven in the likeness of a
crowned and kingly head. Gandalf dismounted, for no horse was allowed in the Citadel, and
Shadowfax suffered himself to be led away at the soft word of his master.
The Guards of the gate were robed in black, and their helms were of strange shape,
high-crowned, with long cheek-guards close-fitting to the face, and above the
cheek-guards were set the white wings of sea-birds; but the helms gleamed with a flame of
silver, for they were indeed wrought of _mithril_, heirlooms from the glory of old days.
Upon the black surcoats were embroidered in white a tree blossoming like snow beneath a
silver crown and many-pointed stars. This was the livery of the heirs of Elendil, and
none wore it now in all Gondor, save the Guards of the Citadel before the Court of the
Fountain where the White Tree once had grown.
Already it seemed that word of their coming had gone before them: and at once they were
admitted, silently, and without question. Quickly Gandalf strode across the white-paved
court. A sweet fountain played there in the morning sun, and a sward of bright green lay
about it; but in the midst. drooping over the pool, stood a dead tree, and the falling
drops dripped sadly from its barren and broken branches back into the clear water.
Pippin glanced at it as he hurried after Gandalf. It looked mournful, he thought, and he
wondered why the dead tree was left in this place where everything else was well tended.
_Seven stars and seven stones and one white tree._
The words that Gandalf had murmured came back into his mind. And then he found himself at
the doors of the great hall beneath the gleaming tower; and behind the wizard he passed
the tall silent door-wardens and entered the cool echoing shadows of the house of stone.
They walked down a paved passage, long and empty, and as they went Gandalf spoke softly
to Pippin. 'Be careful of your words, Master Peregrin! This is no time for hobbit
pertness. Theoden is a kindly old man. Denethor is of another sort, proud and subtle, a
man of far greater lineage and power, though he is not called a king. But he will speak
most to you, and question you much, since you can tell him of his son Boromir. He loved
him greatly: too much perhaps; and the more so because they were unlike. But under cover
of this love he will think it easier to learn what he witches from you rather than from
me. Do not tell him more than you need, and leave quiet the matter of Frodo's errand. I
will deal with that in due time. And say nothing about Aragorn either, unless you must.'
'Why not? What is wrong with Strider?' Pippin whispered. 'He meant to come here, didn't
he? And he'll be arriving soon himself anyway.'
'Maybe, maybe,' said Gandalf. 'Though if he comes, it is likely to be in some way that no
one expects, not even Denethor. It will be better so. At least he should come unheralded
by us.'
Gandalf halted before a tall door of polished metal. 'See, Master Pippin, there is no
time to instruct you now in the history of Gondor; though it might have been better, if
you had learned something of it, when you were still birds-nesting and playing truant in
the woods of the Shire. Do as I bid! It is scarcely wise when bringing the news of the
death of his heir to a mighty lord to speak over much of the coming of one who will, if
he comes, claim the kingship. Is that enough?'
'Kingship?' said Pippin amazed.
'Yes,' said Gandalf. 'If you have walked all these days with closed ears and mind asleep,
wake up now!' He knocked on the door.
The door opened, but no one could be seen to open it. Pippin looked into a great hall. It
was lit by deep windows in the wide aisles at either side, beyond the rows of tall
pillars that upheld the roof. Monoliths of black marble, they rose to great capitals
carved in many strange figures of beasts and leaves; and far above in shadow the wide
vaulting gleamed with dull gold, inset with flowing traceries of many colours. No
hangings nor storied webs, nor any things of woven stuff or of wood, were to be seen in
that long solemn hall; but between the pillars there stood a silent company of tall
images graven in cold stone.
Suddenly Pippin was reminded of the hewn rocks of Argonath, and awe fell on him, as he
looked down that avenue of kings long dead. At the far end upon a dais of many steps was
set a high throne under a canopy of marble shaped like a crowned helm; behind it was
carved upon the wall and set with gems an image of a tree in flower. But the throne was
empty. At the foot of the dais, upon the lowest step which was broad and deep, there was
a stone chair, black and unadorned, and on it sat an old man gazing at his lap. In his
hand was a white rod with a golden knob. He did not look up. Solemnly they paced the long
floor towards him, until they stood three paces from his footstool. Then Gandalf spoke.
'Hail, Lord and Steward of Minas Tirith, Denethor son of Ecthelion! I am come with
counsel and tidings in this dark hour.'
Then the old man looked up. Pippin saw his carven face with its proud bones and skin like
ivory, and the long curved nose between the dark deep eyes; and he was reminded not so
much of Boromir as of Aragorn. 'Dark indeed is the hour,' said the old man, 'and at such
times you are wont to come, Mithrandir. But though all the signs forebode that the doom
of Gondor is drawing nigh, less now to me is that darkness than my own darkness. It has
been told to me that you bring with you one who saw my son die. Is this he?'
'It is,' said Gandalf. 'One of the twain. The other is with Theoden of Rohan and may come
hereafter. Halflings they are, as you see, yet this is not he of whom the omens spoke.'
'Yet a Halfling still,' said Denethor grimly, 'and little love do I bear the name, since
those accursed words came to trouble our counsels and drew away my son on the wild errand
to his death. My Boromir! Now we have need of you. Faramir should have gone in his
stead.'
'He would have gone,' said Gandalf. 'Be not unjust in your grief! Boromir claimed the
errand and would not suffer any other to have it. He was a masterful man, and one to take
what he desired. I journeyed far with him and learned much of his mood. But you speak of
his death. You have had news of that ere we came?'
'I have received this,' said Denethor, and laying down his rod he lifted from his lap the
thing that he had been gazing at. In each hand he held up one half of a great horn cloven
through the middle: a wild-ox horn bound with silver.
'That is the horn that Boromir always wore!' cried Pippin.
'Verily,' said Denethor. 'And in my turn I bore it, and so did each eldest son of our
house, far back into the vanished years before the failing of the kings, since Vorondil
father of Mardil hunted the wild kine of Araw in the far fields of Rhun. I heard it
blowing dim upon the northern marches thirteen days ago, and the River brought it to me,
broken: it will wind no more.' He paused and there was a heavy silence. Suddenly he
turned his black glance upon Pippin. 'What say you to that, Halfling?'
'Thirteen, thirteen days,' faltered Pippin. 'Yes, I think that would be so. Yes, I stood
beside him, as he blew the horn. But no help came. Only more orcs.'
'So,' said Denethor, looking keenly at Pippin's face. 'You were there? Tell me more! Why
did no help come? And how did you escape, and yet he did not, so mighty a man as he was,
and only orcs to withstand him?'
Pippin flushed and forgot his fear. 'The mightiest man may be slain by one arrow,' he
said; 'and Boromir was pierced by many. When last I saw him he sank beside a tree and
plucked a black-feathered shaft from his side. Then I swooned and was made captive. I saw
him no more, and know no more. But I honour his memory, for he was very valiant. He died
to save us, my kinsman Meriadoc and myself, waylaid in the woods by the soldiery of the
Dark Lord; and though he fell and failed, my gratitude is none the less.'
Then Pippin looked the old man in the eye, for pride stirred strangely within him, still
stung by the scorn and suspicion in that cold voice. 'Little service, no doubt, will so
great a lord of Men think to find in a hobbit, a halfling from the northern Shire; yet
such as it is, I will offer it, in payment of my debt.' Twitching aside his grey cloak,
Pippin drew forth his small sword and laid it at Denethor's feet.
A pale smile, like a gleam of cold sun on a winter's evening, passed over the old man's
face; but he bent his head and held out his hand, laying the shards of the horn aside.
'Give me the weapon!' he said.
Pippin lifted it and presented the hilt to him. 'Whence came this?' said Denethor. 'Many,
many years lie on it. Surely this is a blade wrought by our own kindred in the North in
the deep past?'
'It came out of the mounds that lie on the borders of my country ' said Pippin. 'But only
evil wights dwell there now, and I will not willingly tell more of them.'
'I see that strange tales are woven about you,' said Denethor, 'and once again it is
shown that looks may belie the man - or the halfling. I accept your service. For you are
not daunted by words; and you have courteous speech, strange though the sound of it may
be to us in the South. And we shall have need of all folk of courtesy, be they great or
small, in the days to come. Swear to me now!'
'Take the hilt,' said Gandalf, 'and speak after the Lord, if you are resolved on this.'
'I am,' said Pippin.
The old man laid the sword along his lap, and Pippin put his hand to the hilt, and said
slowly after Denethor:
'Here do I swear fealty and service to Gondor, and to the Lord and Steward of the realm,
to speak and to be silent, to do and to let be, to come and to go, in need or plenty, in
peace or war, in living or dying, from this hour henceforth, until my lord release me, or
death take me, or the world end. So say I, Peregrin son of Paladin of the Shire of the
Halflings.'
And this do I hear, Denethor son of Ecthelion, Lord of Gondor, Steward of the High King,
and I will not forget it, nor fail to reward that which is given: fealty with love,
valour with honour, oath-breaking with vengeance.' Then Pippin received back his sword
and put it in its sheath.
'And now,' said Denethor, 'my first command to you: speak and be not silent! Tell me your
full tale, and see that you recall all that you can of Boromir, my son. Sit now and
begin!' As he spoke he struck a small silver gong that stood near his footstool, and at
once servants came forward. Pippin saw then that they had been standing in alcoves on
either side of the door, unseen as he and Gandalf entered.
'Bring wine and food and seats for the guests,' said Denethor, 'and see that none trouble
us for one hour.'
'It is all that I have to spare, for there is much else to heed,' he said to Gandalf.
'Much of more import, it may seem, and yet to me less pressing. But maybe we can speak
again at the end of the day.'
'And earlier, it is to be hoped,' said Gandalf. 'For I have not ridden hither from
Isengard, one hundred and fifty leagues, with the speed of wind, only to bring you one
small warrior, however courteous. Is it naught to you that Theoden has fought a great
battle and that Isengard is overthrown, and that I have broken the staff of Saruman?'
'It is much to me. But I know already sufficient of these deeds for my own counsel
against the menace of the East.' He turned his dark eyes on Gandalf, and now Pippin saw a
likeness between the two, and he felt the strain between them, almost as if he saw a line
of smouldering fire, drawn from eye to eye, that might suddenly burst into flame.
Denethor looked indeed much more like a great wizard than Gandalf did, more kingly,
beautiful, and powerful; and older. Yet by a sense other than sight Pippin perceived that
Gandalf had the greater power and the deeper wisdom, and a majesty that was veiled. And
he was older, far older. 'How much older?' he wondered, and then he thought how odd it
was that he had never thought about it before. Treebeard had said something about
wizards, but even then he had not thought of Gandalf as one of them. What was Gandalf? In
what far time and place did he come into the world, and when would he leave it? And then
his musings broke off, and he saw that Denethor and Gandalf still looked each other in
the eye, as if reading the other's mind. But it was Denethor who first withdrew his
gaze.
'Yea,' he said; 'for though the Stones be lost, they say, still the lords of Gondor have
keener sight than lesser men, and many messages come to them. But sit now!'
Then men came bearing a chair and a low stool, and one brought a salver with a silver
flagon and cups, and white cakes. Pippin sat down, but he could not take his eyes from
the old lord. Was it so, or had he only imagined it, that as he spoke of the Stones a
sudden gleam of his eye had glanced upon Pippin's face?
'Now tell me your tale, my liege,' said Denethor, half kindly; half mockingly. 'For the
words of one whom my son so befriended
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