Th?oden
Who am I, Gamling?
Gamling
You are our king, sire.
Th?oden
And do you trust your king?
Gamling
Your men, my lord, will follow you to whatever end.
Th?oden
To whatever end.
Where is the horse and the rider?
Where is the horn that was blowing?
They have passed like rain on the mountains,
Like wind in the meadows.
The days have gone down in the West,
Behind the hills, into shadow.
How did it come to this?
