Here i have book that you looking for maybe can help you The Two Towers: Being the Second Part of The Lord of the Rings The standard. The Two Towers begins with Book III in the Lord of the Rings trilogy. Frodo decides to take the burden of the Ring to Mount Doom by himself and not endanger. Read The Two Towers PDF - by J.R.R. Tolkien Del Rey | The middle novel in The Lord of the Rings—the greatest fantasy epic of all.
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'Thus passes the heir of Denethor, Lord of the Tower of Guard! Aragorn stood silent, and the other two sat without moving, wondering what way things would. “THE LORD OF THE RINGS Part Two THE TWO TOWERS lesforgesdessalles.infon * BOOK III * Chapter 1. The Departure of Boromir Aragorn sped on up the hill. THE LORD OF THE RINGS. The Two Towers. Screenplay by. Fran Walsh &. Philippa Boyens &. Stephen Sinclair &. Peter Jackson. Based on the novels by.
So it was that Legolas and Gimli found him. We slew the great warrior. The dark shapes of the Ores in front grew dim, and then were swallowed up. Then suddenly in the darkness he made a noise in his throat: Further away, not far from the river, where it came streaming out from the edge of the wood, there was a mound. When they came into the glade they halted in amazement; and then they stood a moment with heads bowed in grief, for it seemed to them plain what had happened. There is battle even now upon the Westemnet, and I fear that it may go ill for us.
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Get a PayPal account here. Your bid is the same as or more than the Buy It Now price. Gimli rose and planted his feet firmly apart: You speak evil of that which is fair beyond the reach of your thought, and only little wit can excuse you. We intend no evil to Rohan, nor to any of its folk, neither to man nor to horse. Will you not hear our tale before you strike? First tell me your right name.
There is trouble now on all our borders, and we are threatened; but we desire only to be free, and to live as we have lived, keeping our own, and serving no foreign lord, good or evil.
We welcomed guests kindly in the better days, but in these times the unbidden stranger finds us swift and hard. Who are you? Whom do you serve? At whose command do you hunt Ores in our land?
There are few among mortal Men who know more of Ores; and I do not hunt them in this fashion out of choice. The Ores whom we pursued took captive two of my friends. In such need a man that has no horse will go on foot, and he will not ask for leave to follow the trail. Nor will he count the heads of the enemy save with a sword.
I am not weaponless. Here is the Sword that was Broken and is forged again! Will you aid me or thwart me? Choose swiftly! He seemed to have grown in stature while Jomer had shrunk; and in his living face they caught a brief vision of the power and majesty of the kings of stone. For a moment it seemed to the eyes of Legolas that a white flame flickered on the brows of Aragorn like a shining crown.
Jomer stepped back and a look of awe was in his face. He cast down his proud eyes. These are indeed strange days,' he muttered. Tell me, lord,' he said, 'what brings you here? And what was the meaning of the dark words? Long has Boromir son of Denethor been gone seeking an answer, and the horse that we lent him came back riderless. What doom do you bring out of the North? None may live now as they have lived, and few shall keep what they call their own. But of these great matters we will speak later.
If chance allows, I will come myself to the king.
Now I am in great need, and I ask for help, or at least for tidings. You heard that we are pursuing an ore-host that carried off our friends. What can you tell us? Were there no bodies other than those of ore -kind? They would be small. Only children to your eyes, unshod but clad in grey.
The ashes are smoking still. It is a strange name. It seems that you have heard in Rohan of the words that troubled Minas Tirith. They spoke of the Halfling. These hobbits are Halflings. But they are only a little people in old songs and children's tales out of the North. Do we walk in legends or on the green earth in the daylight? The green earth, say you? That is a mighty matter of legend, though you tread it under the light of day! Let us leave these wild folk to their fancies.
Or let us bind them and take them to the king. Tell the jored to assemble on the path' and make ready to ride to the Entwade.
Soon they drew off and left Jomer alone with the three companions. But you have not told all. Will you not now speak more fully of your errand, so that I may judge what to do? My errand was to go to that city with the son of Denethor, to aid his folk in their war against Sauron.
But the Company that I journeyed with had other business. Of that I cannot speak now. Gandalf the Grey was our leader. He has been a guest in the land many times in the memory of men, coming as he will, after a season, or after many years. He is ever the herald of strange events: At that time our trouble with Saruman began.
Until then we counted Saruman our friend, hut Gandalf came then and warned us that sudden war was preparing in Isengard. He said that he himself had been a prisoner in Orthanc and had hardly escaped, and he begged for help. But Thjoden would not listen to him, and he went away. Speak not the name of Gandalf loudly in Thj oden's ears! He is wroth. For Gandalf took the horse that is called Shadowfax, the most precious of all the king's steeds, chief of the Mearas, which only the Lord of the Mark may ride.
For the sire of their race was the great horse of Eorl that knew the speech of Men. Seven nights ago Shadowfax returned; but the king's anger is not less, for now the horse is wild and will let no man handle him. But alas! Gandalf will ride no longer. He fell into darkness in the Mines of Moria and comes not again.
My part it has been to guide our Company on the long road from Moria. Through Lurien we came — of which it were well that you should learn the truth ere you speak of it again — and thence down the leagues of the Great River to the falls of Rauros.
There Boromir was slain by the same Ores whom you destroyed. That was a worthy man! All spoke his praise. He came seldom to the Mark, for he was ever in the wars on the East -borders; but I have seen him. More like to the swift sons of Eorl than to the grave Men of Gondor he seemed to me, and likely to prove a great captain of his people when his time came. But we have had no word of this grief out of Gondor. When did he fall? This deed of the three friends should be sung in many a hall.
Forty leagues and five you have measured ere the fourth day is ended! Hardy is the race of Elendil! I must return in haste to Thjoden. I spoke warily before my men. It is true that we are not yet at open war with the Black Land, and there are some, close to the king's ear, that speak craven counsels; but war is coming.
We shall not forsake our old alliance with Gondor, and while they fight we shall aid them: The East-mark is my charge, the ward of the Third Marshal, and I have removed all our herds and herdfolk, withdrawing them beyond Entwash, and leaving none here but guards and swift scouts.
Some years ago the Lord of the Black Land wished to purchase horses of us at great price, but we refused him. Then he sent plundering Ores, and they carry off what they can, choosing always the black horses: Lor that reason our feud with the Ores is bitter.
He has claimed lordship over all this land, and there has been war between us for many months. He has taken Ores into his service, and Wolf-riders, and evil Men, and he has closed the Gap against us, so that we are likely to be beset both east and west.
He walks here and there, they say, as an old man hooded and cloaked, very like to Gandalf, as many now recall. His spies slip through every net, and his birds of ill omen are abroad in the sky. I do not know how it will all end, and my heart misgives me; for it seems to me that his friends do not all dwell in Isengard. But if you come to the king's house, you shall see for yourself. Will you not come? Do I hope in vain that you have been sent to me for a help in doubt and need?
There is battle even now upon the Westemnet, and I fear that it may go ill for us. But scouts warned me of the ore-host coming down out of the East Wall three nights ago, and among them they reported that some bore the white badges of Saruman.
So suspecting what I most fear, a league between Orthanc and the Dark Tower, I led forth my jored , men of my own household; and we overtook the Ores at nightfall two days ago, near to the borders of the Entwood.
There we surrounded them, and gave battle yesterday at dawn. Fifteen of my men I lost, and twelve horses alas!
For the Ores were greater in number than we counted on. Others joined them, coming out of the East across the Great River: And others, too, came out of the forest. Great Ores, who also bore the White Hand of Isengard: But we have been too long away. We are needed south and west. There are spare horses as you see. There is work for the Sword to do. I spoke only as do all men in my land, and I would gladly learn better. We found a clear token not far from the East Wall that one at least of them was still alive there.
But between the wall and the downs we have found no other trace of them, and no trail has turned aside, this way or that, unless my skill has wholly left me. They may have been slain and burned among the Ores; but that you will say cannot be, and I do not fear it. I can only think that they were carried off into the forest before the battle, even before you encircled your foes, maybe. Can you swear that none escaped your net in such a way?
The world is all grown strange. Elf and Dwarf in company walk in our daily fields; and folk speak with the Lady of the Wood and yet live; and the Sword comes back to war that was broken in the long ages ere the fathers of our fathers rode into the Mark! How shall a man judge what to do in such times?
It is a man's part to discern them, as much in the Golden Wood as in his own house. Yet I am not free to do all as I would. It is against our law to let strangers wander at will in our land, until the king himself shall give them leave, and more strict is the command in these days of peril. I have begged you to come back willingly with me, and you will not. Loth am I to begin a battle of one hundred against three. You I have not seen before, for you are young, but I have spoken with Jomund your father, and with Thjoden son of Thengel.
Never in former days would any high lord of this land have constrained a man to abandon such a quest as mine. My duty at least is clear, to go on. Come now, son of Jomund, the choice must be made at last. Aid us, or at the worst let us go free. Or seek to carry out your law. If you do so there will be fewer to return to your war or to your king. This is my choice. You may go; and what is more, I will lend you horses. This only I ask: Thus you shall prove to him that I have not misjudged.
In this I place myself, and maybe my very life, in the keeping of your good faith. Do not fail. There was great wonder, and many dark and doubtful glances, among his men, when Jomer gave orders that the spare horses were to be lent to the strangers; but only Jothain dared to speak openly.
I would sooner walk than sit on the back of any beast so great, free or begrudged. Then all will be well, and you need neither borrow a horse nor be troubled by one. Arod was his name. But Legolas asked them to take off saddle and rein. Gimli was lifted up behind his friend, and he clung to him, not much more at ease than Sam Gamgee in a boat. I have yet to teach you gentle speech. Very swift were the horses of Rohan. When after a little Gimli looked back, the company of Jomer were already small and far away.
Aragorn did not look back: Before long they came to the borders of the Entwash, and there they met the other trail of which Jomer had spoken, coming down from the East out of the Wold.
Aragorn dismounted and surveyed the ground, then leaping back into the saddle, he rode away for some distance eastward, keeping to one side and taking care not to override the footprints. Then he again dismounted and examined the ground, going backwards and forwards on foot. But this eastward trail is fresh and clear. There is no sign there of any feet going the other way, back towards Anduin. Now we must ride slower, and make sure that no trace or footstep branches off on either side.
The Ores must have been aware from this point that they were pursued; they may have made some attempt to get their captives away before they were overtaken.
Low grey clouds came over the Wold. A mist shrouded the sun. Ever nearer the tree-clad slopes of Fangorn loomed, slowly darkling as the sun went west. They saw no sign of any trail to right or left, but here and there they passed single Ores, fallen in their tracks as they ran, with grey -feathered arrows sticking in back or throat. At last as the afternoon was waning they came to the eaves of the forest, and in an open glade among the first trees they found the place of the great burning: Beside it was a great pile of helms and mail, cloven shields, and broken swords, bows and darts and other gear of war.
Upon a stake in the middle was set a great goblin head; upon its shattered helm the white badge could still be seen. Further away, not far from the river, where it came streaming out from the edge of the wood, there was a mound. It was newly raised: Aragorn and his companions searched far and wide about the field of battle, but the light faded, and evening soon drew down, dim and misty.
By nightfall they had discovered no trace of Merry and Pippin. I would guess that the burned bones of the hobbits are now mingled with the Ores'. It will be hard news for Frodo, if he lives to hear it; and hard too for the old hobbit who waits in Rivendell.
Elrond was against their coming. But I shall not depart from this place yet. In any case we must here await the morning -light. Gimli shivered. They had brought only one blanket apiece. Let the Ores come as thick as summer-moths round a candle! Also we are on the very edge of Fangorn, and it is perilous to touch the trees of that wood, it is said. Yet they passed the night after safely here, when their labour was ended.
But our paths are likely to lead us into the very forest itself. So have a care! Cut no living wood! When the Dwarf had a small bright blaze going, the three companions drew close to it and sat together, shrouding the light with their hooded forms. Legolas looked up at the boughs of the tree reaching out above them. There was a silence, for suddenly the dark and unknown forest, so near at hand, made itself felt as a great brooding presence, full of secret purpose.
After a while Legolas spoke again. What are the fables of the forest that Boromir had heard? I had thought of asking you what was the truth of the matter. And if an Elf of the Wood does not know, how shall a Man answer? Elrond says that the two are akin, the last strongholds of the mighty woods of the Elder Days, in which the Firstborn roamed while Men still slept.
Yet Fangorn holds some secret of its own. What it is I do not know. The others lay down. Almost at once sleep laid hold on them. But do not stray far in search of dead wood. Let the fire die rather! Call me at need! Legolas already lay motionless, his fair hands folded upon his breast, his eyes unclosed, blending living night and deep dream, as is the way with Elves.
Gimli sat hunched by the fire, running his thumb thoughtfully along the edge of his axe. The tree rustled. There was no other sound. Suddenly Gimli looked up, and there just on the edge of the fire-light stood an old bent man, leaning on a staff, and wrapped in a great cloak; his wide-brimmed hat was pulled down over his eyes. Gimli sprang up, too amazed for the moment to cry out, though at once the thought flashed into his mind that Saruman had caught them.
Both Aragorn and Legolas, roused by his sudden movement, sat up and stared. The old man did not speak or make, sign. There was no trace of him to be found near at hand, and they did not dare to wander far.
The moon had set and the night was very dark. Suddenly Legolas gave a cry. The horses! They had dragged their pickets and disappeared. For me time the three companions stood still and silent, troubled by this new stroke of ill fortune. They were under the eaves of Fangorn, and endless leagues lay between them and the Men of Rohan, their only friends in this wide and dangerous land.
As they stood, it seemed to them that they heard, far off in the night, the sound of horses whinnying and neighing. Then all was quiet again, except for the cold rustle of the wind.
We started on our feet, and we have those still. Who else? Remember the words of Jomer: Those were the words. He has gone off with our horses, or scared them away, and here we are. There is more trouble coming to us, mark my words! Still I do not doubt that you guess right, and that we are in peril here, by night or day. Yet in the meantime there is nothing that we can do but rest, while we may. I will watch for a while now, Gimli. I have more need of thought than of sleep.
Legolas followed Aragorn, and Gimli followed Legolas, and their watches wore away. But nothing happened. The old man did not appear again, and the horses did not return.
Chapter 3. The Uruk-Hai Pippin lay in a dark and troubled dream: But instead of Frodo hundreds of hideous ore-faces grinned at him out of the shadows, hundreds of hideous arms grasped at him from every side. Where was Merry? He woke. Cold air blew on his face. He was lying on his back. Evening was coming and the sky above was growing dim.
He turned and found that the dream was little worse than the waking. His wrists, legs, and ankles were tied with cords. Beside him Merry lay, white-faced, with a dirty rag bound across his brows.
All about them sat or stood a great company of Ores. Slowly in Pippin's aching head memory pieced itself together and became separated from dream-shadows. Of course: What had come over them? Why had they dashed off like that, taking no notice of old Strider?
They had run a long way shouting— he could not remember how far or how long; and then suddenly they had crashed right into a group of Ores: Then they yelled and dozens of other goblins had sprung out of the trees. Merry and he had drawn their swords, but the Ores did not wish to fight, and had tried only to lay hold of them, even when Merry had cut off several of their arms and hands.
Good old Merry! Then Boromir had come leaping through the trees. He had made them fight. He slew many of them and the rest fled. But they had not gone far on the way back when they were attacked again, by a hundred Ores at least, some of them very large, and they shot a rain of arrows: Boromir had blown his great horn till the woods rang, and at first the Ores had been dismayed and had drawn back; but when no answer but the echoes came, they had attacked more fierce than ever.
Pippin did not remember much more. His last memo was of Boromir leaning against a tree, plucking out an arrow; then darkness fell suddenly. What has happened to Boromir? Where are we, and where are we going? He felt cold and sick. Just a nuisance: And now I have been stolen and I am just a piece of luggage for the Ores. I hope Strider or someone will come and claim us! But ought I to hope for it? Won't that throw out all the plans? I wish I could get free!
One of the Ores sitting near laughed and said something to a companion in their abominable tongue. We'll find a use for your legs before long. You'll wish you had got none before we get home. He had a black knife with a long jagged blade in his hand. Curse the Isengarders! Terrified Pippin lay still, though the pain at his wrists and ankles was growing, and the stones beneath him were boring into his back. To take his mind off himself he listened intently to all that he could hear.
There were many voices round about, and though ore-speech sounded at all times full of hate and anger, it seemed plain that something like a quarrel had begun, and was getting hotter. To Pippin's surprise he found that much of the talk was intelligible many of the Ores were using ordinary language. Apparently the members of two or three quite different tribes were present, and they could not understand one another's ore-speech.
There was an angry debate concerning what they were to do now: They're a cursed nuisance, and we're in a hurry. Evening's coming on, and we ought to get a move on. That's my orders. Do they give good sport? I heard that one of them has got something, something that's wanted for the War, some elvish plot or other.
Anyway they'll both be questioned. Why don't we search them and find out? We might find something that we could use ourselves. The prisoners are NOT to be searched or plundered: I wish to kill, and then go back north. I command. I return to Isengard by the shortest road.
No, we must stick together. These lands are dangerous: You've no guts outside your own sties. But for us you'd all have run away.
We are the fighting Uruk-hai! We slew the great warrior. We took the prisoners. We are the servants of Saruman the Wise, the White Hand: We came out of Isengard, and led you here, and we shall lead you back by the way we choose. I am UgKDk. I have spoken. They might ask where his strange ideas came from. Did they come from Saruman, perhaps? Who does he think he is, setting up on his own with his filthy white badges?
They might agree with me, with Grishnbkh their trusted messenger; and I Grishnbkh say this: Saruman is a fool, and a dirty treacherous fool. But the Great Eye is on him. How do you folk like being called swine by the muck-rakers of a dirty little wizard? It's ore-flesh they eat, I'll warrant. Cautiously Pippin rolled over, hoping to see what would happen.
His guards had gone to join in the fray. Round them were many smaller goblins. Pippin supposed that these were the ones from the North. Grishnbkh stepped aside and vanished into the shadows. The others gave way, and one stepped backwards and fell over Merry's prostrate form with a curse.
It was the yellow-fanged guard. His body fell right on top of Pippin, still clutching its long saw-edged knife. We go straight west from here, and down the stair. From there straight to the downs, then along the river to the forest. And we march day and night. That clear? The edge of the black knife had snicked his arm, and then slid down to his wrist. He felt the blood trickling on to his hand, but he also felt the cold touch of steel against his skin.
The Ores were getting ready to march again, but some of the Northerners were still unwilling, and the Isengarders slew two more before the rest were cowed. There was much cursing and confusion. For the moment Pippin was unwatched. His legs were securely bound, but his arms were only tied about the wrists, and his hands were in front of him.
He could move them both together, though the bonds were cruelly tight. He pushed the dead Ore to one side, then hardly daring to breathe, he drew the knot of the wrist-cord up and down against the blade of the knife. It was sharp and the dead hand held it fast. The cord was cut! Quickly Pippin took it in his fingers and knotted it again into a loose bracelet of two loops and slipped it over his hands. Then he lay very still. If they are not alive when we get back, someone else will die too.
Another treated Merry in the same way. The Ore's clawlike hand gripped Pippin's arms like iron; the nails bit into him. He shut his eyes and slipped back into evil dreams.
Suddenly he was thrown on to the stony floor again. It was early night, but the slim moon was already falling westward. They were on the edge of a cliff that seemed to look out over a sea of pale mist.
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