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The wind is blowing； and the white foam is flying。
West； west away； the round sun is falling。
Grey ship； grey ship； do you hear them calling。
The voices of my people that have gone before me？
I will leave； I will leave the woods that bore me；
For our days are ending and our years failing。
I will pass the wide waters lonely sailing。
Long are the waves on the Last Shore falling；
Sweet are the voices in the Lost Isle calling；
In Eress？a； in Elvenhome that no man can discover；
Where the leaves fall not： land of my people for ever！'_
And so singing Legolas went away down the hill。
Then the others also departed； and Frodo and Sam went to their beds and slept。 And in the
morning they rose again in hope and peace； and they spent many days in Ithilien。 For the Field of
Cormallen； where the host was now encamped was near to Henneth Ann？n； and the stream that
flowed from its falls could be heard in the night as it rushed down through its rocky gate； and
passed through the flowery meads into the tides of Anduin by the Isle of Cair Andros。 The hobbits
wandered here and there visiting again the places that they had passed before； and Sam hoped
always in some shadow of the woods or secret glade to catch； maybe； a glimpse of the great
Oliphaunt。 And when he learned that at the siege of Gondor there had been a great number of these
beasts but that they were all destroyed； he thought it a sad loss。
'Well； one can't be everywhere at once； I suppose；' he said。 'But I missed a lot； seemingly。'
In the meanwhile the host made ready for the return to Minas Tirith。 The weary rested and the
hurt were healed。 For some had laboured and fought much with the remnants of the Easterlings and
Southrons； until all were subdued。 And； latest of all； those returned who had passed into Mordor
and destroyed the fortresses in the north of the land。
But at the last when the month of May was drawing near the Captains of the West set out again；
and they went aboard ship with all their men； and they sailed from Cair Andros down Anduin to
Osgiliath； and there they remained for one day； and the day after they came to the green fields of
the Pelennor and saw again the white towers under tall Mindolluin； the City of the Men of Gondor；
last memory of Westernesse； that had passed through the darkness and fire to a new day。
And there in the midst of the fields they set up their pavilions and awaited the morning； for it
was the Eve of May； and the King would enter his gates with the rising of the Sun。
_Chapter 5_
The Steward and the King
Over the city of Gondor doubt and great dread had hung。 Fair weather and clear sun had seemed
but a mockery to men whose days held little hope； and who looked each morning for news of doom。
Their lord was dead and burned； dead lay the King of Rohan in their citadel； and the new king that
had e to them in the night was gone again to a war with powers too dark and terrible for any
might or valour to conquer。 And no news came。 After the host left Morgul Vale and took the
northward road beneath the shadow of the mountains no messenger had returned nor any rumour of
what was passing in the brooding East。
When the Captains were but two days gone； the Lady éowyn bade the women who tended her to
bring her raiment； and she would not be gainsaid； but rose； and when they had clothed her and set
her arm in a sling of linen； she went to the Warden of the Houses of Healing。
'Sir；' she said； 'I am in great unrest； and I cannot lie longer in sloth。'
'Lady；' he answered； 'you are not yet healed； and I was manded to tend you with especial
care。 You should not have risen from your bed for seven days yet； or so I was bidden。 I beg you to
go back。'
'I am healed；' she said； 'healed at least in body； save my left arm only； and that is at ease。 But I
shall sicken anew； if there is naught that I can do。 Are there no tidings of war？ The women can tell
me nothing。'
'There are no tidings；' said the Warden； 'save that the Lords have ridden to Morgul Vale； and
men say that the new captain out of the North is their chief。 A great lord is that； and a healer； and it
is a thing passing strange to me that the healing hand should also wield the sword。 It is not thus in
Gondor now； though once it was so； if old tales be true。 But for long years we healers have only
sought to patch the rents made by the men of swords。 Though we should still have enough to do
without them： the world is full enough of hurts and mischances without wars to multiply them。'
It needs but one foe to breed a war； not two； Master Warden； answered éowyn。 'And those who
have not swords can still die upon them。 Would you have the folk of Gondor gather you herbs only；
when the Dark Lord gathers armies？ And it is not always good to be healed in body。 Nor is it
always evil to die in battle； even in bitter pain。 Were I permitted； in this dark hour I would choose
the latter。'
The Warden looked at her。 Tall she stood there； her eyes bright in her white face； her hand
clenched as she turned and gazed out of his window that opened to the East。 He sighed and shook
his head。 After a pause she turned to him again。
'Is there no deed to do？' she said。 'Who mands in this City？'
'I do not rightly know；' he answered。 'Such things are not my care。 There is a marshal over the
Riders of Rohan； and the Lord Húrin； I am told； mands the men of Gondor。 But the Lord
Faramir is by right the Steward of the City。'
'Where can I find him？'
'In this house； lady。 He was sorely hurt； but is now set again on the way to health。 But I do not
know…'
'Will you not bring me to him？ Then you will know。'
The Lord Faramir was walking alone in the garden of the Houses of Healing； and the sunlight
warmed him； and he felt life run new in his veins； but his heart was heavy； and he looked out over
the walls eastward。 And ing； the Warden spoke his name； and he turned and sa