The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers Page #4

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SARUMAN:

Take back the lands they stole from

you! Burn every village!

CROWD:

[Roars with approval] Argh!!

[They stomp off to destroy the villages

of Rohan as Saruman stands coldly still

among the stampede. A Rohan village

is in pandemonium as people try to escape

the on-coming pillage.]

SARUMAN (V.O.)

It will begin in Rohan. Too long have

these peasants stood against you. But

no more.

[A woman with her hand on a horse calls

out to her children.]

MORWEN:

Éothain! Éothain! You take your sister.

You’ll go faster with just two.

FREDA:

[As Morwen puts her onto the horse in

front of her brother] Papa says Éothain

must not ride Garulf, he is too big

for him!

MORWEN:

Listen to me. You must ride to Edoras

and raise the alarm. Do you understand

me?

ÉOTHAIN

Yes, Ma!

FREDA:

[starts to cry] I don’t wanna leave!

I don't wanna go, Mama!

MORWEN:

Freda, I will find you there.

[A woman screams]

MORWEN:

Quickly!

[The children ride off.]

MORWEN:

[Looks after them] Go child!

[Dunlanders and Uruk-hai enter the village,

burning everything in sights as the

Rohirrim scream and run in all directions.

Éothain and Freda weep as they look

back from a distance.]

SARUMAN (V.O.)

Rohan, my lord, is ready to fall.

[A group of horsemen ride to Edoras.

Éomer is in the lead, carrying a gravely

wounded Théodred.]

[Éowyn runs hastily up the stairs to

the Golden Hall and enters a bedchamber.

She runs to the bed.]

ÉOWYN

Théodred!

[Théodred seems to hear her call but

is unable to respond. He has a bloody

gash on the side of his head. Éomer

nods to Éowyn in the direction of Théodred’s

torso. Éowyn draws back the covers and

upon seeing Théodred’s fatal wound,

her lips tighten and eyes close. She

looks up to catch Éomer’s eye.]

[Éomer and Éowyn are speaking to Théoden-king

who sits motionless on his throne, wizened,

and aged beyond his years.]

ÉOWYN

Your son is badly wounded, my lord.

ÉOMER

He was ambushed by Orcs. If we don’t

defend our country, Saruman will take

it by force.

GRÍMA

That is a lie! [Appears from the shadows.]

Saruman the White has ever been our

friend and ally.

THÉODEN

[mumbles feebly] Gríma… Gríma… [Gríma

leans down close to the King.]My son...?

Gríma...?

ÉOMER

Orcs are roaming freely across our lands.

Unchecked. Unchallenged. Killing at

will. Orcs bearing the white hand of

Saruman. [He drops a helmet onto the

ground, which topples over to reveal

the white hand of Saruman.]

GRÍMA

Why do you lay these troubles on an

already troubled mind. Can you not see?

Your uncle is wearied by your malcontent,

your war-mongering.

ÉOMER

War-mongering?

[Éomer grabs Gríma and pins him against

a pillar.]

ÉOMER

How long is it since Saruman bought

you? What was the promised price, Gríma?

When all the men are dead you will take

your share of the treasure?

[Gríma’s eyes flicks to right, watching

Éowyn as she walks by. Éowyn stops to

stare back for a moment before departing

form the hall. Éomer jerks Gríma again

and clutches his hand around Gríma’s

jaw.]

ÉOMER

Too long have you watched my sister,

too long have you haunted her steps.

[Gríma's eyes look to the left and relax

as Éomer is suddenly pulled off Gríma

by his thugs.]

GRÍMA

You see much Éomer, Son of Éomund. Too

much. [The thugs punch Éomer n the stomach]

You are banished forthwith from the

kingdom of Rohan. Under pain of death!

ÉOMER

[Being dragged away] Argh!!

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