[the phantom]

The three wolves emerged from Eomer of the Rohirrim's house. They had gone there intending to kill him, but he wasn't at home for some reason, so they started sniffing around outside trying to pick up his trail.

One of the wolves gave a low grunt- the trail had been found.

It led them first out of the village to the northeast, but then turned south-southeast towards the small river that flowed west to east a bowshot south of the village.

The wolves reached the river at a spot about half a mile from the village. Why in the world would a villager come way out here at night? they thought, standing on the treeless bank under the bright moonlight.

Just then, an arrow came whizzing out of the forest behind them. The wolves had lightning fast reflexes, and threw themselves flat upon hearing the sound. One of the wolves started to get up to rush the attacker, but another arrow came flying out of the dark and forced the wolf back onto its stomach.

As the arrow was being loosed, the other two wolves charged forward, knowing that the assailant would not be able to shoot arrows at them once they were back under the shadows of the trees.

The wolves saw the gleam of steel beneath the trees ahead. The attacker was running from them. The wolves howled, the wild delight of the hunt filling their dark hearts.

A bright patch appeared up ahead- a clearing in the trees. The wolves saw their opponent in good lighting for the first time. It was a sturdy, armor-clad man. When he reached the middle of the clearing he stopped and turned, bow at the ready. The wolves watched him from the cover of the trees, not wanting to show themselves for fear of being shot. They could see his face. It was Eomer.

Realizing that the wolves would hide as long as he had his bow out, Eomer tossed aside his bow and arrows and drew two swords that were strapped across his back. One was his own, and the other was Anguirel's.

Anguirel, the knight errant who was lynched the day before, had sensed a warrior's spirit in Eomer, and had, before his death, requested that his sword be given to Eomer.

The three wolves emerged from the trees, and began to circle Eomer, snarling and snapping their jaws. All at once, the three jumped at him. The collision was violent, and all four combatants fell to the ground. Eomer prepared to strike the dazed wolf on his left, but the wolf to his right leaped up and sunk his teeth into Eomer's right arm. Eomer struck the wolf in the face with the hilt of Anguirel's sword, which he held in his left hand, but the wolf did not release its grip.

Eomer then thrust at the wolf's belly, but as he did the third wolf hit him from behind like a battering ram. As he fell to the ground he felt the beast's teeth sink into his neck, and knew his life was at an end.

He also knew that he had not died in vain, for he was sure that the last sword thrust he had made had found the heart of a wolf.