Warhorses neighed, their hooves thundering.
Across the vast expanse of Dagorlad, nearly ten thousand cavalrymen about to clash churned up endless dust over the lifeless plain.
Combat between cavalry was bloody and brutal. Victory and defeat, life and death, were often decided in an instant.
Riding Snow Chaser, Thengel tightened his grip on the spear with its fluttering Green Ribbon and drove its gleaming point toward the armored enemy chieftain.
The Prince of Rohan's furious eyes fixed on his opponent's heart. He swore he would strike the man from his horse.
Every descendant of Éorl yearned to avenge his ancestor. Killing an Easterling leader in a frontal assault on the battlefield would earn him a place among his great forebears, even if he died in the attempt.
At that very moment, a great mass of dark clouds swept toward Thengel from the sky, swift as lightning and crushing as a mountain.
Its overwhelming menace subdued even the singing of the Riders of Rohan.
Only when the dark clouds drew closer did the people of Rohan watching the sky see clearly.
Those were no clouds at all, but two Nazgûl riding Fell Beasts.
The two cunning, treacherous Ringwraiths had chosen the moment just before the cavalry forces collided to strike at the Riders of Rohan, giving their allies the greatest possible advantage.
What could be more effective than ambushing the enemy king and cutting down his Royal Banner?
Once Thengel, Rohan's commander, died, who knew what price the leaderless Riders of Rohan would have to pay before they could muster another proper charge?
The Éored constantly guarding Thengel noticed the danger at once.
They drew their cavalry bows and fired into the sky, but the short bows had far too little range. Even when an arrow struck an enemy mount by