Out of doubt, out of dark to the day’s rising I came singing in the sun, sword unsheathing. To hope’s end I rode and to heart’s breaking: Now for wrath, now for ruin and a red nightfall!

‘The Three were not made by Sauron, nor did he ever touch them. But of them it is not permitted to speak. So much only in this hour of doubt I may now say. They are not idle. But they were not made as weapons of war or conquest: that is not their power. Those who made them did not desire strength or domination or hoarded wealth, but understanding,

‘we will have peace, when you and all your works have perished – and the works of your dark master to whom you would deliver us. You are a liar, Saruman, and a corrupter of men’s hearts. You hold out your hand to me, and I perceive only a finger of the claw of Mordor. Cruel and cold!

‘People wanted him back when the Normans landed,’ he says. ‘And again, in Maud and Stephen’s war. And in Cromwell’s war, and every war since. We did all right without him. Managed to keep things ticking over. We’ll manage this time as well.’ ‘Ah, but this time it’s the realm that’s suffering, not just the people,’ says Herne. ‘And I don’t care abou