Edoras and the Rohirrim

Legolas, Aragorn & Gimli on the plains of Rohan
Pursuit- Legolas, Aragorn & Gimli on the plains of Rohan (Ted Naismith)

Aragorn, Legolas the elf and Gimli the dwarf pursued the orcs of the red hand across the plains of Rohan to rescue the two captured Hobbits, Merry and Pippin.
Here in the Golden hall at Edoras live the riders of the Rohirrim, saxon-like heroes of the plains, whose horses are the most important things in their lives, and who owe allegiance to the men of Gondor. A proud, fair-haired people. The King, Theoden, rode to war to honour his oaths in his old age, and fell before the gates of Gondor. It was left to his daughter, the Princess Eowyn, to avenge him by killing the King of the Nazgul.

Edoras
Detail from 'Edoras' (Alan Lee)

HORN CALL OF THEODEN

Arise now, arise, Riders of Theoden!
Dire deeds awake, dark is it eastward.
Let horse be bridled, horn be sounded!
Forth Eorlingas!

Arise, arise, Riders of Theoden!
Fell deeds awake: fire and slaughter!
Spear shall be shaken, shield be splintered,
A sword-day, a red day, ere the sun rises!

From dark Dunharrow in the dim morning
with thane and captain rode Thengel's son:
to Edoras he came, the ancient halls
of the Mark-wardens, mist-enshrouded;
golden timbers were in gloom mantled.
Farewell he bade to his free people,
hearth and high seat, and the hallowed places,
where long he had feasted ere the light faded.
Forth rode the King, fear behind him,
fate before him. Fealty kept he;
oaths he had taken, all fulfilled them.
Forth rode Theoden. Five nights and days
east and onward rode the Eorlingas
through Folde and Fenmarch and the Firienwood,
six thousand spears to Sunlending,
Mundburg the mighty under Mindolluin,
Sea-Kings' city in the South Kingdom
foe-beleaguered, fire-encircled.
Doom drove them on. Darkness took them,
horse and horseman; hoofbeats afar
sank into silence: so the songs tell us.

Eowyn and the Nazgul
Eowyn, Princess of the Rohirrim slays the Nazgul at the battle of Gondor
- detail from 'Eowyn and the Nazgul' (John Howe)

LAMENT FOR THEODEN
Out of doubt, out of dark, to the day's rising
He rode singing in the sun, sword unsheathing.
Hope he rekindled and in hope ended;
Over death, over dread, over doom lifted
Out of loss, out of life, unto long Glory.


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