Lotr

For three nights, the eastern shore had whispered. Not in words, but in the way the reeds bent against no wind. In the way the frogs fell silent all at once, as though a great mouth had opened somewhere beneath the mud.

"You should rest, Captain," said a voice from the stair. Madril, his second, climbed up with a torch that fought a losing battle against the fog. "The men speak of a figure on the far shore. A hooded shape that does not move." For three nights, the eastern shore had whispered

The sound ripped through the fog, bold and bright and utterly, magnificently defiant. Behind him, a hundred tired men lifted their spears. Before him, the hooded shape on the far shore turned its head slowly, as though noticing a fly that had chosen to sting a giant. "You should rest, Captain," said a voice from the stair

"Let them come," he said. "There are still brave men in this broken land." A hooded shape that does not move