The Lord of the Rings - Full Trilogy by J.R.R. Tolkien

Author:J.R.R. Tolkien [Tolkien, J.R.R.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: ePub Bud (www.epubbud.com)
Published: 2012-07-26T16:00:00+00:00

lord_rings.qxd 4/12/2002 1:51 PM Page 525

The Lord of the Rings

‘Dear lord!’ cried Wormtongue. ‘It is as I feared. This wizard has bewitched you. Are none to be left to defend the Golden Hall of your fathers, and all your treasure? None to guard the Lord of the Mark?’

‘If this is bewitchment’, said Théoden, ‘it seems to me more wholesome than your whisperings. Your leechcraft ere long would have had me walking on all fours like a beast. No, not one shall be left, not even Gríma. Gríma shall ride too. Go! You have yet time to clean the rust from your sword.’

‘Mercy, lord!’ whined Wormtongue, grovelling on the ground. ‘Have pity on one worn out in your service. Send me not from your side! I at least will stand by you when all others have gone. Do not send your faithful Gríma away!’

‘You have my pity’, said Théoden. ‘And I do not send you from my side.

I go myself to war with my men. I bid you come with me and prove your faith.’

Wormtongue looked from face to face. In his eyes was the hunted look of a beast seeking some gap in the ring of his enemies. He licked his lips with a long pale tongue. ‘Such a resolve might be expected from a lord of the House of Eorl, old though he be’, he said. ‘But those who truly love him would spare his failing years. Yet I see that I come too late. Others, whom the death of my lord would perhaps grieve less, have already persuaded him. If I cannot undo their work, hear me at least in this, lord! One who knows your mind and honours your commands should be left in Edoras. Appoint a faithful steward. Let your counsellor Gríma keep all things till your return-and I pray that we may see it, though no wise man will deem it hopeful.’

Éomer laughed. ‘And if that plea does not excuse you from war, most noble Wormtongue’, he said, what office of less honour would you accept? To carry a sack of meal up into the mountains-if any man would trust you with it?’

‘Nay, Éomer, you do not fully understand the mind of Master Wormtongue’, said Gandalf, turning his piercing glance upon him. ‘He is bold and cunning. Even now he plays a game with peril and wins a throw.

Hours of my precious time he has wasted already. ‘Down snake!’ he said suddenly in a terrible voice. ‘Down on your belly! How long is it since Saruman bought you? What was the promised price? When all the men were dead, you were to pick your share of the treasure, and take the woman you desire? Too long have you watched her under your eyelids and haunted her steps.’

Éomer grasped his sword. ‘That I knew already’, he muttered. ‘For that reason I would have slain him before, forgetting the law of the hall.

But there are other reasons.’ He stepped forward, but Gandalf stayed him with his hand.

525

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