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- Джон Толкин
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- Властелин колец: Возвращение короля
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- Стр. 46/277
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And
suddenly
there
rose
a
great
chorus
of
trumpets
from
high
above
,
sounding
from
some
hollow
place
,
as
it
seemed
,
that
gathered
their
notes
into
one
voice
and
sent
it
rolling
and
beating
on
the
walls
of
stone
.
So
the
King
of
the
Mark
came
back
victorious
out
of
the
West
to
Dunharrow
beneath
the
feet
of
the
White
Mountains
.
There
he
found
the
remaining
strength
of
his
people
already
assembled
;
for
as
soon
as
his
coming
was
known
captains
rode
to
meet
him
at
the
ford
,
bearing
messages
from
Gandalf
.
Dúnhere
,
chieftain
of
the
folk
of
Harrowdale
,
was
at
their
head
.
'
At
dawn
three
days
ago
,
lord
,
'
he
said
.
'
Shadowfax
came
like
a
wind
out
of
the
West
to
Edoras
,
and
Gandalf
brought
tidings
of
your
victory
to
gladden
our
hearts
.
But
he
brought
also
word
from
you
to
hasten
the
gathering
of
the
Riders
.
And
then
came
the
winged
Shadow
.
'
'
The
winged
Shadow
?
'
said
Théoden
.
'
We
saw
it
also
,
but
that
was
in
the
dead
of
night
before
Gandalf
left
us
.
'
'
Maybe
,
lord
,
'
said
Dúnhere
.
'
Yet
the
same
,
or
another
like
to
it
,
a
flying
darkness
in
the
shape
of
a
monstrous
bird
,
passed
over
Edoras
that
morning
,
and
all
men
were
shaken
with
fear
.
For
it
stooped
upon
Meduseld
,
and
as
it
came
low
,
almost
to
the
gable
,
there
came
a
cry
that
stopped
our
hearts
.
Then
it
was
that
Gandalf
counselled
us
not
to
assemble
in
the
fields
,
but
to
meet
you
here
in
the
valley
under
the
mountains
.
And
he
bade
us
to
kindle
no
more
lights
or
fires
than
barest
need
asked
.
So
it
has
been
done
.
Gandalf
spoke
with
great
authority
.
We
trust
that
it
is
as
you
would
wish
.
Naught
has
been
seen
in
Harrowdale
of
these
evil
things
.
'
'
It
is
well
,
'
said
Théoden
.
'
I
will
ride
now
to
the
Hold
,
and
there
before
I
go
to
rest
I
will
meet
the
marshals
and
captains
.
Let
them
come
to
me
as
soon
as
may
be
!
'
The
road
now
led
eastward
straight
across
the
valley
,
which
was
at
that
point
little
more
than
half
a
mile
in
width
.
Flats
and
meads
of
rough
grass
,
grey
now
in
the
falling
night
,
lay
all
about
,
but
in
front
on
the
far
side
of
the
dale
Merry
saw
a
frowning
wall
,
a
last
outlier
of
the
great
roots
of
the
Starkhorn
,
cloven
by
the
river
in
ages
past
.
On
all
the
level
spaces
there
was
great
concourse
of
men
.
Some
thronged
to
the
roadside
,
hailing
the
king
and
the
riders
from
the
West
with
glad
cries
;
but
stretching
away
into
the
distance
behind
there
were
ordered
rows
of
tents
and
booths
,
and
lines
of
picketed
horses
,
and
great
store
of
arms
,
and
piled
spears
bristling
like
thickets
of
new-planted
trees
.
Now
all
the
great
assembly
was
falling
into
shadow
,
and
yet
,
though
the
night-chill
blew
cold
from
the
heights
no
lanterns
glowed
,
no
fires
were
lit
.
Watchmen
heavily
cloaked
paced
to
and
fro
.
