[Rohirrimka]

Льдора, полный ППКС. Не удержусь - выложу в оригинале. Потому что там звучит еще сильнее - просто мороз по коже.

The Rohirrim indeed had no need of news or alarm. All too well they could see for themselfs the black sails. For Eomer was now scarcely a mile from the Harlond, and a great press of his first foes was between him and the haven there, while new foes come swirling behind, cutting him off from Pronce. Now he looked to the River, and hope died in his heart, and the wind that he had blessed he now called accursed. But the hosts of Mordor were enheartened, anf filled with a new lust and fury they came yelling to the onset.

Stern now was Eomer's mood, and his mind clear again. He let blow the horns to rally all men to his banner that could come thither; for he thought to make a great shield-wall at the last, and stand, and fight there on foot till all fell, and do deeds of song on the fields of Pelennor, though no man should be left in the West to remember the last King of the Mark. So he rode to a green hillok and there set his banner, and the White Horse ran rippling in the wind.
Out of doubt, out of dark to the day's rising
I came singing in the sun, sword unsheathing.
To hope's end I rode and to heart's breaking:
Now for wrath, now for ruin and a red nightfall!


These staves he spoke, yet he laughed as he said them. For once more lust of the battle was on him; and he was still unscathed, and he was young; and he was king: the lord of a fell people. And lo! even as he laughed at despair he looked out again on the black ships, and he lifted up phis sword to defy them.