At that sound the bent shape of the king sprang suddenly erect. Tall
and proud he seemed again; and rising in his stirrups he cried in a
loud voice, more clear than any there had ever heard a mortal man
achieve before,
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! Ride now, ride now! Ride to Gondor!
With that he seized a great horn from Guthlaf his banner-bearer and
he blew such a blast upon it that it burst asunder. And straightway all
horns in the host were lifted up in music, and the blowing of the horns
of Rohan in that hour was like a storm upon the plain and a thunder in
the mountains.
Ride now, ride now! Ride to Gondor!
Suddenly the king cried to Snowmane and the horse
sprang away. Behind him his banner blew in the wind, white horse upon a
field of green, but he outpaced it. After him thundered the knights of
his house, but he was ever before them. Eomer rode there, the white
horsetail on his helm floating in his speed, and the front of the first
eored roared like a breaker foaming to the shore, but Theoden could not
be outpaced. Fey he seemed, or the battle-fury of his fathers ran like
new fire in his veins, and he was borne up on Snowmane like a god of
old, even as Orome the Great in the battle of the Valar when the world
was young. His golden shield was uncovered, and lo! it shone like an
image of the Sun, and the grass flamed into green about the white feet of
his steed. For morning came, morning and a wind from the sea; and
darkness was removed, and the hosts of Mordor wailed, and terror took
them, and they fled, and died, and the hoofs of wrath rode over them.
And then all the host of Rohan burst into song, and the sang as they
slew, for the joy of battle was on them, and the sound of their singing
that was fair and terrible came even to the City.
