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- Джон Толкин
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- Властелин колец: Возвращение короля
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- Стр. 82/277
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The
Black
Rider
flung
back
his
hood
,
and
behold
!
he
had
a
kingly
crown
;
and
yet
upon
no
head
visible
was
it
set
.
The
red
fires
shone
between
it
and
the
mantled
shoulders
vast
and
dark
.
From
a
mouth
unseen
there
came
a
deadly
laughter
.
'
Old
fool
!
'
he
said
.
'
Old
fool
!
This
is
my
hour
.
Do
you
not
know
Death
when
you
see
it
?
Die
now
and
curse
in
vain
!
'
And
with
that
he
lifted
high
his
sword
and
flames
ran
down
the
blade
.
Gandalf
did
not
move
.
And
in
that
very
moment
,
away
behind
in
some
courtyard
of
the
City
,
a
cock
crowed
Shrill
and
clear
he
crowed
,
recking
nothing
of
wizardry
or
war
,
welcoming
only
the
morning
that
in
the
sky
far
above
the
shadows
of
death
was
coming
with
the
dawn
.
And
as
if
in
answer
there
came
from
far
away
another
note
.
Horns
,
horns
,
horns
.
In
dark
Mindolluin
's
sides
they
dimly
echoed
.
Great
horns
of
the
North
wildly
blowing
.
Rohan
had
come
at
last
.
It
was
dark
and
Merry
could
see
nothing
as
he
lay
on
the
ground
rolled
in
a
blanket
;
yet
though
the
night
was
airless
and
windless
,
all
about
him
hidden
trees
were
sighing
softly
.
He
lifted
his
head
.
Then
he
heard
it
again
:
a
sound
like
faint
drums
in
the
wooded
hills
and
mountain-steps
.
The
throb
would
cease
suddenly
and
then
be
taken
up
again
at
some
other
point
,
now
nearer
,
now
further
off
.
He
wondered
if
the
watchmen
had
heard
it
.
He
could
not
see
them
,
but
he
knew
that
all
round
him
were
the
companies
of
the
Rohirrim
.
He
could
smell
the
horses
in
the
dark
,
and
could
hear
their
shiftings
and
their
soft
stamping
on
the
needle-covered
ground
.
The
host
was
bivouacked
in
the
pine-woods
that
clustered
about
Eilenach
Beacon
,
a
tall
hill
standing
up
from
the
long
ridges
of
the
Drúadan
Forest
that
lay
beside
the
great
road
in
East
Anórien
.
Tired
as
he
was
Merry
could
not
sleep
.
He
had
ridden
now
for
four
days
on
end
,
and
the
ever-deepening
gloom
had
slowly
weighed
down
his
heart
.
He
began
to
wonder
why
he
had
been
so
eager
to
come
,
when
he
had
been
given
every
excuse
,
even
his
lord
's
command
,
to
stay
behind
.
He
wondered
,
too
,
if
the
old
King
knew
that
he
had
been
disobeyed
and
was
angry
.
Perhaps
not
.
There
seemed
to
be
some
understanding
between
Dernhelm
and
Elfhelm
,
the
Marshal
who
commanded
the
éored
in
which
they
were
riding
.
He
and
all
his
men
ignored
Merry
and
pretended
not
to
hear
if
he
spoke
.
He
might
have
been
just
another
bag
that
Dernhelm
was
carrying
.
Dernhelm
was
no
comfort
:
he
never
spoke
to
anyone
.
Merry
felt
small
,
unwanted
,
and
lonely
.
Now
the
time
was
anxious
,
and
the
host
was
in
peril
.
They
were
less
than
a
day
's
ride
from
the
out-walls
of
Minas
Tirith
that
encircled
the
townlands
.
Scouts
had
been
sent
ahead
.
Some
had
not
returned
.
Others
hastening
back
had
reported
that
the
road
was
held
in
force
against
them
.
A
host
of
the
enemy
was
encamped
upon
it
,
three
miles
west
of
Amon
Dîn
,
and
some
strength
of
men
was
already
thrusting
along
the
road
and
was
no
more
than
three
leagues
away
.
Orcs
were
roving
in
the
hills
and
woods
along
the
roadside
.
The
king
and
Éomer
held
council
in
the
watches
of
the
night
.
Merry
wanted
somebody
to
talk
to
,
and
he
thought
of
Pippin
.
But
that
only
increased
his
restlessness
.
Poor
Pippin
,
shut
up
in
the
great
city
of
stone
,
lonely
and
afraid
.
Merry
wished
he
was
a
tall
Rider
like
Éomer
and
could
blow
a
horn
or
something
and
go
galloping
to
his
rescue
.
He
sat
up
,
listening
to
the
drums
that
were
beating
again
,
now
nearer
at
hand
.
Presently
he
heard
voices
speaking
low
,
and
he
saw
dim
half-shrouded
lanterns
passing
through
the
trees
.
Men
nearby
began
to
move
uncertainly
in
the
dark
.
