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and threatening shadow. Perhaps it was mountains looming
on the verge of sight, their jagged edges softened by wellnigh twenty leagues of misty air; perhaps it was but a cloud-wall,
and beyond that again a yet deeper gloom. But even as he looked it seemed to his eyes that the gloom was growing and gathering,
very slowly, slowly rising to smother the regions of the sun.
    ‘So near to Mordor?’ said Beregond quietly. ‘Yes, there it lies. We seldom name it; but we have dwelt ever in sight of that
shadow: sometimes it seems fainter and more distant; sometimes nearer and darker. It is growing and darkening now; and therefore
our fear and disquiet grow too. And the Fell Riders, less than a year ago they won back the crossings, and many of our best
men were slain. Boromir it was thatdrove the enemy at last back from this western shore, and we hold still the near half of Osgiliath. For a little while. But
we await now a new onslaught there. Maybe the chief onslaught of the war that comes.’
    ‘When?’ said Pippin. ‘Have you a guess? For I saw the beacons two nights ago and the errand-riders; and Gandalf said that
it was a sign that war had begun. He seemed in a desperate hurry. But now everything seems to have slowed up again.’
    ‘Only because everything is now ready,’ said Beregond. ‘It is but the deep breath before the plunge.’
    ‘But why were the beacons lit two nights ago?’
    ‘It is over-late to send for aid when you are already besieged,’ answered Beregond. ‘But I do not know the counsel of the
Lord and his captains. They have many ways of gathering news. And the Lord Denethor is unlike other men: he sees far. Some
say that as he sits alone in his high chamber in the Tower at night, and bends his thought this way and that, he can read
somewhat of the future; and that he will at times search even the mind of the Enemy, wrestling with him. And so it is that
he is old, worn before his time. But however that may be, my lord Faramir is abroad, beyond the River on some perilous errand,
and he may have sent tidings.
    ‘But if you would know what I think set the beacons ablaze, it was the news that came that eve out of Lebennin. There is a
great fleet drawing near to the mouths of Anduin, manned by the corsairs of Umbar in the South. They have long ceased to fear
the might of Gondor, and they have allied them with the Enemy, and now make a heavy stroke in his cause. For this attack will
draw off much of the help that we looked to have from Lebennin and Belfalas, where folk are hardy and numerous. All the more
do our thoughts go north to Rohan; and the more glad are we for these tidings of victory that you bring.
    ‘And yet’ – he paused and stood up, and looked round, north, east, and south – ‘the doings at Isengard should warn us that
we are caught now in a great net and strategy. Thisis no longer a bickering at the fords, raiding from Ithilien and from Anórien, ambushing and pillaging. This is a great war
long-planned, and we are but one piece in it, whatever pride may say. Things move in the far East beyond the Inland Sea, it
is reported; and north in Mirkwood and beyond; and south in Harad. And now all realms shall be put to the test, to stand,
or fall – under the Shadow.
    ‘Yet, Master Peregrin, we have this honour: ever we bear the brunt of the chief hatred of the Dark Lord, for that hatred comes
down out of the depths of time and over the deeps of the Sea. Here will the hammer-stroke fall hardest. And for that reason
Mithrandir came hither in such haste. For if we fall, who shall stand? And, Master Peregrin, do you see any hope that we shall
stand?’
    Pippin did not answer. He looked at the great walls, and the towers and brave banners, and the sun in the high sky, and then
at the gathering gloom in the East; and he thought of the long fingers of that Shadow: of the orcs in the woods and the mountains,
the treason of Isengard, the birds of evil eye, and the Black