Yes, I Came Here to Eat
The wind whips it up!
Outside the Pelennor Fields, densely packed cavalry units were arrayed in formation like a tidal wave.
Rohan Cavalry!
Upon seeing the Gondor's capital, Théoden immediately ordered his army to assemble and personally led 6,000 Hussars to the battlefield.
They took a secret mountain path, avoiding the Orcs blocking forces. Because the outpost of the capital Osgiliath, had been breached by the Orcs, the six thousand cavalrymen easily reached the edge of the plains without encountering any resistance.
Speaking of the friendship between the two countries, Rohan has always been Gondor's brother and an ally for a thousand years. However, since the senility of Denethor II, the relationship has not been very pleasant in recent years, and there has even been a tendency for them to turn against each other.
Logically, with the two countries on the verge of a complete breakdown in relations, Théoden shouldn't have risked his nation's fate by leading the Rohan cavalry to their aid, yet he still came.
The phrase "if the lips are cold, the teeth will perish" was unfamiliar to Théoden, but it didn't prevent him from understanding the underlying meaning. If Gondor was destroyed by war, Rohan would be the next to suffer.
Even if we don't want to send troops, we have to. Besides, it's always better to fight on someone else's territory than to have the war spread to our own country!
Six thousand cavalrymen halted on the hillside. Beyond the hillside lay the Pelennor Fields. Théoden the plain, where billowing smoke rose into the sky, and felt an overwhelming sorrow in his heart.
Orcs, Haradrim, southern pirates, and the Mordor Alliance from the east—countless enemies lie ahead, and they are about to face ten times, or even more, their own forces.
After this battle, how many Rohan warriors will be able to return home safely and reunite with their wives and children?
Théoden a deep breath. Many people would die in this battle, but it concerned the survival of the entire nation. Any sacrifice would be worthwhile, even if he died on the battlefield.
Regaining his composure, Théoden swept his gaze across the determined faces, drew his Sword of Kings, and commanded, "Eomer, your troops attack the left flank! Gamlin, follow the royal banner and attack the center! Gamde, you lead your forces to attack the right flank!"
Six thousand cavalrymen silently and swiftly formed ranks. The moment they mounted their horses, they were prepared to die in battle.
Seeing the nation's warriors bravely facing their deaths, Théoden's blood boiled, and he raised his sword, shouting, "Knights of Rohan, advance bravely, fear not the darkness, charge with me!"
"Kill!!"
"Kill! Kill! Kill—"
The bugle call to charge sounded, and six thousand cavalrymen split into three routes, with the central route led by Théoden's army, and the ten thousand horses marched silently over the hillside.
With their backs to the blazing sun, bathed in its radiant light, their horses' hooves thundered across the earth, transforming into a swift torrent as they fearlessly charged into the battlefield where certain death lay ahead!
"Kill! Kill? Uh..."
Ahead, the Pelennor Fields was a scene of devastation, the entire grassland had been turned upside down, and a towering iceberg stood out opposite, reflecting the sunlight so brightly that the Rohan Cavalry could not open their eyes.
That's not the key point. The key point is that they entered the battlefield with the mind to die, only to find the ground littered with the corpses of the enemy. Countless black corpses were everywhere, and the pools of blood soaked the muddy plain. When the warhorses trampled them, they could press out red sewage.
I didn't see Orcs, at least not any living Orcs. As for the smoke and fire...
The smoke of battle was all too familiar to Théoden; hundreds of large cauldrons were set up on the plain, and the soldiers and civilians of the capital were chopping up the Orcs' siege towers and catapults for firewood, burning them with great relish.
(￣￣) X6000
Six thousand cavalrymen stood dumbfounded, weapons in hand, as their horses came to a lazy stop without their masters' command. Several startled cavalrymen lost their footing and fell from their horses, breaking three legs and two ribs in total, while one man suffered a cut to his arm from a longsword.
Later historical records state that during the Battle of Pelennor Fields in the Third Age of Middle-earth: On March 15, 3019, Théoden of Rohan led 6,000 cavalry to reinforce the city. At Pelennor Fields, 4 were seriously wounded and 1 was slightly wounded.
"King Théoden, what should we do?"
Eomer, mounted on his warhorse, felt weak all over. He was prepared to sacrifice himself, but as soon as he mounted, the entire enemy force was wiped out.
I have so much passion to vent, and it's so frustrating!
And then there's Gondor crushed Mordor's army, slaughtering dragons and elephants and starting a victory celebration, yet they still asked them for help!
Are you just teasing them?
Théoden, his face flushed with pent-up frustration, took several deep breaths to recover. "Pass down the order: put away your weapons and proceed slowly toward the capital, stopping one kilometer away."
After a long while, King Théoden, furious, led three generals, including Eomer, to find Gandalf the White among thousands of soldiers and civilians in the capital.
Gandalf was the brightest and most dazzling figure on the entire grassland, his white robes gleaming as he trudged through the blood-stained mud, as if afraid others wouldn't know he was the White Wizard.
"King Théoden, you've arrived!"
Seeing Théoden leading his army, Gandalf greeted him with a smile.
Yes, I'm here!
Théoden replied sarcastically, his displeasure evident in his tone. He then frowned, glancing at the bandage on Gandalf's forehead. "Gandalf, you're injured?"
This was the first time Théoden had seen Gandalf with injuries. If he remembered correctly, Gandalf possessed Illumination Spell, which could cure all ailments. Especially external wounds; a flash of light would be enough, so there was no reason for him to be wrapped in bandages.
Gandalf touched his forehead and laughed, "A wound I sustained in battle with the Witch-king of Angmar, a minor injury! A minor injury!"
Théoden nodded upon hearing this. "Indeed, he was a formidable enemy. I can imagine how fierce the battle must have been."
Gandalf's lips twitched. His injury wasn't caused by the Witch King, and he left it untreated to subtly condemn a certain shameless wizard.
Gandalf, is the Witch King dead?
"Yes, I killed him with a longsword that can break the curse of immortality."
Gandalf's face was very unnatural. He and the Witch King were sent flying by a whip tail and crashed into the ruins of Osgiliath, the outpost of the capital. The Witch King landed first, followed closely by Gandalf, and just like that... he stabbed him to death.
The prophecy came true: Gandalf was not human, so the Witch-king of Angmar died!
"Can you tell me about what happened back then? It must have been very dangerous, right?" Théoden sighed with emotion. The death of the Witch King, who had plagued Middle-earth for a thousand years, was truly gratifying. It was a pity that he wasn't there and couldn't witness this earth-shattering battle.
But thinking about it, it's obvious that it would be much more dangerous than the battle against Saruman at Isengard Fortress!
Gandalf coughed lightly, not wanting to talk about the duel, displaying the indifference to fame and fortune of a mature Maiar: "There's nothing to brag about. The Witch-king of Angmar was powerful, and I only won by luck."
Théoden was filled with awe. He truly deserved to be called the Grey Robe Saint, no, he should now be called the White-Robed Saint.
"Well, King Théoden, you've come at just the right time," Gandalf changed the subject.
"Just right!?"
Théoden furious. He had traveled a great distance to rescue Gondor, only to find that he hadn't killed a single enemy and had instead enjoyed the fruits of victory. Even Gandalf the White shouldn't have humiliated him like this!
His glory King of Riders did not come from easy victories!
The warriors of Rohan don't need it either!
"Don't misunderstand, King Théoden, I didn't mean anything by it."
Seeing Théoden's anger, Gandalf quickly explained, pointing to the boiling cauldron and the platters laden with dragon and elephant meat. "I meant it's just mealtime!"
Upon hearing this, Théoden became even angrier. He had led six thousand cavalrymen all the way here, risking the fate of the entire Rohan Kingdom. Did he come here just to eat?
As soon as the snowflake pork was put into the pot, the rising steam, carried by the wind, sent an irresistible aroma into Théoden's nostrils.
"That's right, we're really lucky to have made it in time for lunch!"
Théoden: Yes, I'm here to eat!