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  Midyear’s Day, Shire Year 1418: On the Greenway south of Bree, Gandalf the Grey meets Radagast the Brown, who brings news: ‘The Nine are abroad again. They have crossed the River secretly and are moving westward… wherever they go the Riders ask for news of a land called Shire.’

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  Just before Mordor’s assault on the last bridge in Ithilien two weeks ago, Faramir—son of the ruling Steward—dreamed that he heard a voice in the West. ‘Seek for the Sword that was broken: In Imladris it dwells; There shall be counsels taken Stronger than Morgul-spells…’

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  Butterbur can’t find anyone willing to travel to the Shire today to deliver Gandalf’s letter to Frodo.

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  Watchmen from Amon Dîn reach Minas Tirith: Elves are riding toward the city, and are already approaching the walls of the Pelennor. ‘At last they have come,’ replies Aragorn. ‘Let all the City be made ready!’

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  The army of the West approaches Minas Tirith. They halt before its walls and raise their pavilions one last time, to spend a final night outside the city before the Lord Aragorn enters tomorrow for the first time as its king.

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  Crowds are thronging the gate of Minas Tirith as the army marches up from their pavilions and draws to a halt. Aragorn steps forward with his Dúnedain. He is met by Lord Faramir and the Warden of the Keys. Faramir: ‘The last Steward of Gondor begs leave to surrender his office.’

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  Silence falls over the host as a minstrel of Gondor steps forward. ‘I will sing to you of Frodo of the Nine Fingers and the Ring of Doom.’ Sam laughs, then weeps: ‘O great glory and splendour! And all my wishes have come true!’ The minstrel sings. And their joy was like swords.

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  Frodo enters the Sammath Naur. ‘I have come. But…I will not do this deed. The Ring is mine!’ He puts on the Ring and vanishes. Sauron’s forces suddenly waver. The Nazgûl turn and fly away south. Gandalf cries: ‘Stand, Men of the West! Stand and wait! This is the hour of doom.’

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  A black dart hits Snowmane, who rears and falls, crushing King Théoden. The Witch-king’s carrion-bird digs its claws into the horse’s corpse. A sword rings as it is drawn: Dernhelm will defend the king’s body. The Witch-king taunts him. ‘Thou fool. No living man may hinder me!’

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  Éowyn drops her helmet. ‘No living man am I! Begone, if you be not deathless! I will smite you, if you touch him.’ The Nazgûl Lord spurs his mount upon her; she cleaves its neck. He rises to face her himself. His mace smashes her shield and breaks her arm. She falls to her knees.

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  As the Nazgûl Lord swings again, Meriadoc of the Shire stabs a Barrow-blade into his knee from behind. ‘Éowyn!’ She makes a final thrust with her sword just beneath the crown. A scream: after four thousand years of service to Sauron, the Nazgûl Lord passes from Middle-earth.

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  Faramir reports the Southron ambush to his father Denethor, then looks at Pippin. ‘This is not the first halfling that I have seen walking out of northern legends.’ He says that Frodo was heading for ‘Cirith Ungol’. Gandalf is suddenly afraid—has the Ring already been captured?

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  After Gandalf and the three hunters have shared their stories, Aragorn stands to his feet. ‘You are our captain and our banner. The Dark Lord has Nine. But we have One, mightier than they: the White Rider. He has passed through the fire and the abyss, and they shall fear him.’

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  How might Frodo trust Gollum? ‘Sméagol will swear on the Precious.’ ‘On the Precious? How dare you? Think! “One Ring to rule them all and in the Darkness bind them.” Would you commit your promise to that, Sméagol? It will hold you. But it is more treacherous than you are!’