A teaser Upon it sat a shape; black-mantled, huge and threatening. A crown of steel he bore, but between rim and robe, naught there was to see, save only a dreadful gleam of eyes, the Lord of the Nazgul. To the air he had returned, summoning his steed ere the darkness failed, and now he was come again, bringing ruin; turning hope to despair, and victory to death. A great black mace he wielded.
But Theoden was not utterly forsaken. The knights of his house lay slain about him, or else were mastered by the madness of their steeds were borne far away. Yet one stood there still, Dernhelm the young; faithful beyond fear, and he wept, for he had loved his lord as a father. Right through the charge, Merry had been borne unharmed before him until the shadow came, and then Windfola had thrown them in his terror; and now ran wild upon the plain. Merry crawled on all fours like a crazed beast, and such a horror was on him that he was blind and sick.
"King's man! King's man!" his heart cried within him, "you must stay by him. 'As a father you shall be to me, you said." But his will made no answer, and his body shook. He dared not open his eyes or look up.
Then out of the blackness of his mind he thought he heard Dernhelm speaking; yet now the voice seemed strange; recalling some other voice that he had known.
"Begone, foul dwimmerlaik; lord of carrion. Leave the dead in peace!"
A cold voice answered; "Come not between the Nazgul and his prey, or he will not slay thee in thy turn. He will bear thee away to the houses of lamentation, beyond all darkness; where thy flesh shall be devoured, and thy shrivelled mind be left naked to the Lidless Eye."
A sword rang out. "Do what you will, but I will hinder it, if I may."
"Hinder me? Thou fool, no living man may hinder me!"
Then Merry heard of all sounds in that hour the strangest. For it seemed that Dernhelm laughed, and the clear voice was like the ring of steel. "But no living man am I! You look upon a woman. Eowyn I am; Eomund's daughter. You stand between me and my lord and kin. Begone, if you be not deathless! For living or dark undead, I will smite you, if you touch him."
The Lord of the Rings, Book V, Chapter VI, "The Battle of the Pelennor Fields"
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