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All Middle-Earth knows the tale

of the War of the Ring.

But there are older tales.

Tales told around warm fires

on cold winter nights.

Tales passed down from the old to the young.

Tales that light a path through the dark.

Almost 200 years before the ring

ever came to Bilbo Baggins,

there lived a girl.

- Her name was Héra.

- Only daughter of Helm ...

...King of Rohan.

Born under a harvest moon,

her mother did not live to see the dawn.

Raised alongside two brothers by a warrior king...

the girl could ride a horse before she could walk.

- "Wild," some called her.

"Headstrong," railed her father.

Though, in truth,

he was so proud of his tearaway child.

Whoa. Whoa.

By her hand, many great deeds were done.

But do not look for tales of her in the old songs.

There are none.

Milady!

♪ Where is the horse?♪

♪ Where is the rider? ♪

♪ Passed into shadow where I cannot find her ♪

There she is!

Lady Héra!

- ♪ Long is the road...♪ - Where were you?

♪ And far from her home ♪

♪ But fear not, my sister ♪

♪ You'll ne'er ride alone ♪

- -♪ From mountaintop high... ♪ -

♪ Cross riverbed low ♪

♪ To wild, whispered places she's longing to go ♪

♪ Fearless she rides into the unknown ♪

Héra!

You should have seen it, Háma.

The fledgling took the lure.

Haleth said it wouldn't work.

He said, "It would tear you limb from limb."

Wait, Héra...

Did you know that the Great Eagles speak a language...

...all of their own

but only to wizards?

Will you listen to me?

Wait. Whose horses are those?

That's what I've been trying to tell you.

Messengers arrived from the West-march.

From Lord Freca? Why?

He has called for a Witan.

I thought only the king could summon the lords to council.

That is the custom, not the law.

Olwyn!

It's also the custom to tell your lady's maid

if you're gonna run off

and make a snack of yourself for some great flying beast!

Oh, you...

Come on, you need to change.

What's wrong with what I'm wearing?

Hopeless.

Lord Freca hasn't been to court in years.

Why would he show up now?

You don't think he means to challenge father, do you?

I'd like to see him try.

Haleth.

Brother.

I doubt Freca even remembers how to swing a sword.

He's sat idle in the West-march too long,

stuffing his face, and his pocket.

Fat and prosperous

are when men are at their most dangerous, Lord Haleth.

It fills them with false courage,

and false courage breeds discontent.

Which means what?

It means Lord Freca has had a long time

to think about all the things he doesn't have.

Freca has only what we allow. Nothing more.

Lief, you're calling the banners tonight?

My Lord Fréaláf.

Yes. I am.

It's my first council.

I... I thought I'd learned all the sigils.

Hmm.

But I... I don't recognize that one.

The banner of the Shieldmaidens.

My Lady Héra!

Cousin?

Oh...

Look at you. No mud,

no twigs in your hair...

One could almost mistake you

for a princess of Rohan.

The Shieldmaidens were women of The Borderlands.

When all the men were slain, they took up arms and fought.

They defended Rohan when no one else could.

Those were darker days.

I've long thought it time to retire that banner.

And I doubt there are any of them left.

They're all gone?

Not all of them.

Helm. Son of Gram,

Lord of the Eorlingas. Ninth...

Yes, yes. They know their king when they see him.

You all look like you're at a funeral!

Fear not, faint hearts.

We'll be done with this business soon enough.

I see you have started without me.

Freca, Lord of the West-march.

Lord Wulf, son of Freca.

General Targg of Dunland.

Lord Freca! It has been a while.

You've missed many a council,

though it seems very few meals.

Freca, the King jests.

I see age has not improved your manners, my liege.

Am I not welcome in this great hall?

All loyal men are welcome here.

Ah, but loyal to whom? Hmm?

To Rohan?

Or to Gondor?

A rumor has reached my ears that a Gondorian princeling...

has made an offer for your daughter's hand.

Do you deny it?

It's none of your business whom my daughter marries!

I say it is.

I say it is all of our business.

I come before this council

with an offer to strengthen, not weaken Rohan.

For too long our houses have squabbled

while Gondor usurps our greatness.

They would respect us, nay, fear us,

were we truly united.

It is past time for Rohan to stop being Gondor's lapdog.

Consider instead a son of the West-march.

Hmm.

I, Wulf, son of Freca,

come before you, Héra, daughter of Helm...

Wulf, don't.

...to seek your hand in marriage.

Well, girl?

What do you say, hmm?

Enough!

You speak of uniting our people,

when it is I who has faced down death, famine, war

to hold these lands together.

I know why you have come, Freca, son of Dunland.

You do not seek an alliance, you seek a throne.

Old kings that refuse a proffered staff

may fall on their knees.

You do not command the loyalty you think you do.

Sire, this is not the place.

My nephew speaks true.

A king does not brawl in his own house.

But men are freer outside.

Wouldn't you agree?

Is this wise, Uncle?

I know Freca.

He hasn't a noble bone in his body.

Mark my word,

he would not be satisfied with marriage to Héra.

He would see his son on my throne

and my boys in a grave.

Time to remind him of his place.

The line of Helm is not so easily broken.

Come away, child. Leave them be.

You did not give an answer.

We should go.

Would it be so bad?

We were inseparable once.

We were children.

Is she with him?

Aye.

Well, I did not think so much had changed.

Wulf, please.

I care about you.

But...

you'd rather marry a stranger from Gondor?

I have no thoughts of marriage at all.

Our fathers speak as if I were not even in the room.

This should be my decision to make.

It should be yours, too.

And what if I told you this is what I want?

What I've always wanted.

- I love you. - No.

I do not want to marry you.

I do not want to marry any man.

You asked for my answer, you have it.

Héra!

Come, sister, or we'll miss all the fun.

Now, Dunlending,

you have only Helm to deal with.

Just you and me. Unarmed.

You will live to regret this, old man.

Dress the girl however you like.

Can't you stop this?

Your daughter's no lady.

No wonder she's wild. Raised by a brute like you.

"Feral" they call her.

Right at home in the rough country.

But, no, she's "too good" for my son.

Hmm.

Your daughter will come crawling on her knees,

begging my son to marry her before the end.

Father!

Get up, Freca!

Get up and fight!

Father?

He's dead.

No!

Impossible! I only struck him the once.

You saw.

You all saw.

Hmm.

You killed him.

Put the sword down, lad.

No!

You dare draw your sword against the King, Dunlending?

Father, no!

You're killing him!

Enough blood has been spilt.

There will be no more.

You will pay for this with your life.

I swear it.

Save your breath, boy, lest it be your last.

Wulf, son of Freca,

you are banished.

If you set foot on these lands again,

it will be your head.

Wulf...

Leave him.

Seasons passed.

The death of Freca was talked of for a long time.

Some whispered it was an ill omen

for a king to kill one of his own.

Wulf's fate weighed heavy on Héra's mind.

Banished and reviled...

yet he was still the boy she once called friend.

- We're not supposed to be here. - They're not gonna find us...

Are you ready, Héra?

Of course I'm ready.

Come on, Wulf!

Got you!

Wait! Wulf!

I cut you!

I'm sorry. I did not mean to hurt you.

- Leave me. - You're bleeding.

Go!

Before my father finds you here.

I said, "Go!"

Héra tried to find word of Wulf.

No sign of him could ever be found.

It was as if he had vanished,

passing like a shadow into night.

A new threat arose on Rohan's eastern border.

Strange sounds were heard in the night.

The broken bodies of wild horses

were found dead on the morn.

No longer would the king allow his wayward daughter

to ride out alone.

Crebain, from Dunland.

It's a Southron.

The armor marks him as a mercenary.

See where those tracks lead.

Ooh, he's quite big, isn't he?

Okay. This way. Come on, Lief.

Ugh.

What is a Southron doing this far north?

He's been here a few days.

The birds have picked the body clean.

Spear and horn.

I think he was some kind of Beastmaster.

Aye, but master of what?

What was that old poem

you used to recite to me as a child?

Something about "making the earth shake."

Run!

Run!

Mûmak!

The beast is rabid.

Héra... get out of here!

Go!

Fréaláf!

Héra! No!

Faster, Ashere! Faster!

Héra!

Does she know what creature lives in those woods?

Of course she does.

Whoa, Ashere, whoa. Whoa.

Okay.

Yeah. Go! Go!

"Beware dark waters that hide old secrets."

The Watcher in the Water.

I never thought I'd live to see such a sight.

General Targg.

What are you doing here?

You were banished.

I was dispatched on a mission,

but it seems that objective may have changed.

What the... Dispatched by whom?

I serve a new commander.

The High Lord of the Hill Tribes.

The Wildmen have no High Lord.

They do now.

How dare you!

Get your hands off me!

Put me down!

She's seen the mumak!

- Why not kill her now? - Let me go!

No. We take her to the High Lord.

No!

I said, "Let me go!"

I found her.

They're holding her in one of the guard towers.

Ashere!

How can you eat at a time like this?

There must be another way out of here.

Who would dare occupy Isengard?

Someone bold enough to kidnap a king's daughter.

I'm going after Héra. Stay hidden.

Keep the horses at the ready.

If I do not return by the hour...

Wait.

I have a plan.

Always too curious...

...for your own good.

Wulf!

You're alive.

You are the High Lord?

Did you think I would slink away like a cur

and lick my wounds?

No, I have been busy.

All my life, I was scorned for my Dunlending blood.

But look who answered when I needed them.

The Hill Tribes have sworn an oath to me.

Every last one.

You cannot hope to stand against Rohan and Gondor.

Your father will never ask for help from Gondor.

His pride will not allow it.

No. Gondor is not coming.

First, I will kill your brothers.

Then, I will kill your father.

And then, I will take the throne.

And be king of what?

A land in ruins, its people torn apart!

You had your chance to unite Rohan.

And you refused!

Did I disgust you so much?

Hmm?

Was I so easily forgotten?

I never forgot you.

I tried to find you.

The boy I knew would never wish for war.

Don't do this, Wulf.

Innocent people will die.

What if there was a way you could still save them?

A way you could still save your people.

If I agree to this...

If I agree to be your bride,

you swear there will be no war?

If you agree?

Is there no end to the arrogance of your house?

Even now you can barely stomach the thought, can you?

The boy you knew is gone, Héra.

I am the man your father made me.

Olwyn!

Don't just sit there. Move!

You think you're still a Shieldmaiden, old woman?

Your fighting days are over.

Go!

Come on, greedy. We're leaving.

Seize them!

- Ride! - Summon the guards!

- Stop her! - Go!

Cut them off!

Make for the gates!

Move!

To the gate!

They're coming through!

Quickly!

We'll never make it past the archers!

Trust me. I have a plan.

This is your plan?

I didn't say it was a good one!

My lord!

I'm fine. Let's get out of here.

I'll dispatch our fastest horsemen.

Don't bother. She will outride them.

Call the men to arms.

Please, listen to me.

We do not know the full strength of Wulf's army.

Do not underestimate him, Father.

There is more to Wulf's plan, I know it.

The mumak, the Southron we saw.

That is no coincidence.

The beast was diseased, you said so yourself.

We had reports of a column of mumakil

moving west, near our southern border.

One of them must have broken its chains

and crossed into our lands.

It's got nothing to do with the Dunlending boy.

The wisest move is to fall back to our strongholds.

Light the beacons. Call for aid from Gondor.

"The wisest move"?

You would have me abandon Edoras?

Until we are at full strength...

yes.

This is no rabble of Wildmen.

These men are well trained and well-armed.

My liege, if I may?

Lord Fréaláf is young.

He has not fought beside you in battle, as I have.

I pledge 300 riders to protect the eastern flank.

The men of the Wold

stand ready to fight.

I accept your pledge.

Lord Thorne shall have command of the east.

I will lead the vanguard north and meet Wulf on the plains.

Let every man willing step forth.

We fight for Rohan!

Please, Uncle, trust me.

Trust you? I trusted you to protect my daughter.

To keep her safe. And look what happened.

Kidnapped, by a filthy upstart.

It was not his fault! Fréaláf saved me.

She could have died!

Go back to Dunharrow, Fréaláf Hildeson.

Dig some trenches and crawl into them.

When the songs of this day are sung,

when the names of its heroes are read,

yours will not be amongst them.

He's our kin.

He is no kin of mine!

Nor do I need a sword offered by such a faithless hand.

My Lord.

Fréaláf, wait!

The king has spoken.

You will always have my sword, Uncle,

whether you value it or not.

No.

They know the attack is coming.

From here, we have a clear path to Edoras.

Helm will expect us to make camp

on the northern plains.

Good.

War is upon us.

What do you say, old friend?

Will you carry me once more?

What are you doing?

I pledge to fight for my king.

Don't be a fool, child.

If you will not listen to me, then at least let me fight.

You know nothing of war.

I'm the fastest rider you have.

I can carry messages between the commanders.

I said "no."

The line of Helm does not rest on you, Héra.

It resides in Haleth and Háma.

My brothers can defend their home, but yet I cannot?

One day, you will marry.

You will live in Gondor

and have children who know nothing of our ways.

To see me gone... is that what would please you?

Yes, it will please me. I will rejoice.

You will be alive because I will have protected you.

Wulf's army is 20 leagues from Edoras.

They're not setting up camp! They're not resting!

What?

They're continuing to advance?

The Hill Tribes are used to attacking

under cover of dark.

He means to strike tonight.

Muster the Rohirrim.

Wait!

Do not look so grim, little sister.

Helm Hammerhand has never lost a battle.

Háma... you need a faster horse.

Take Ashere.

Ashere will have no one but you.

Besides, I trust the old girl.

Keep this safe for me.

Always.

Maybe, one day,

someone will sing ballads of me.

On the morrow, little sister.

Ride strong, brothers.

Where is Thorne? He's late.

His men should be covering the eastern flank.

hmm.

I fought beside your father once.

He saved my entire village

from a pack of Dunlending raiders.

I broke my shield in that battle.

Afterwards, I wanted a new one.

But "No," he told me,

"it's not broken, it's just broken in."

There's so many of them.

Your father is no ordinary man.

It'll take more than an army of Dunlending

to bring him low.

The blood of the ancients flows in his veins.

The same blood that flows in yours.

Oh!

Oh, the pledges!

Oh, no! No, no, no, no!

The king left these in my charge for safekeeping.

It's all right, don't fret, lad.

The king's got other things on his mind.

- Whose mark is this? - Oh...

That? That's the seal of Lord Thorne.

What is it?

What's wrong?

I've seen this before.

Lord Thorne is in league with Wulf.

He means to betray my father.

We have to get our people out.

Sound the alarm. Now! Go!

Evacuate the city!

Riders of the Mark, brothers of Rohan, arise!

Arise now!

We will paint the dawn red with the blood of our foes!

Draw your weapons!

Forth Eorlingas!

- For Rohan! - Rohan!

- Death! - Death!

Death!

Archers ready!

Aim!

Mark your targets!

Fire!

Charge!

Wulf!

Where is he?

Where is their high command?

Find him!

Keep moving!

You've a long march ahead of you.

Where are we going?

What about the children?

Carry only what you need.

Stay together.

Keep the children to the middle! Go!

Come on, Ashere. Time to leave.

I fear it is too late for that... my lady.

Traitor!

My father will see you hang for this.

You will never know, will you?

Hold the line!

Wulf's nowhere to be seen.

Something's not right.

Mumakil!

He's using Variag mercenaries.

Edoras is completely exposed.

Royal Guard! To me!

Háma!

They may sing of your valor yet, little brother.

Forward! Keep moving!

Whoa!

You sure about this, my lady?

Do it.

Take the city!

Haleth! Háma!

Call the retreat.

No!

Listen to me, Haleth.

You must reach the city before Wulf.

Find Héra. Go.

Go!

Break it down! Move!

No! It's afraid of the fire!

Look out!

Where is everyone?

The city's deserted.

Find Héra!

Héra!

Háma! Lord Thorne, he has betrayed us.

We know. You've already called the evacuation.

- Yes. - Good.

Get everyone to Dunharrow.

The road to Dunharrow is crawling with Wildmen.

The Hornburg is our only chance.

Olwyn is leading the retreat.

Riders! Fall back!

Cover the retreat!

It's heading for the Great Hall!

For Rohan! For our people!

Haleth!

No!

Haleth!

Archers! Ready!

Fire!

No!

Father!

Hold on.

Get him out of here!

Run them down.

Get after them.

Now! Move it!

Royal guard, protect the king!

To the king!

To the king!

Háma!

Go, Héra! I'll catch you.

Come on, old girl. Come on!

Songs of valor, old girl.

This is it.

Come on with the last of you!

You're nearly there!

Hurry now!

Inside the keep! Come on, fast as you can!

A healer! The king needs a healer.

My lord.

Sire.

Háma...

Where is he?

Where's Háma?

- This way. - Leave me.

Sire...

Hmm.

No.

Háma!

He was right behind us.

Enough!

You have won, Wulf!

I surrender.

Let this end now.

My life for my son's.

No!

Kill me! Take the crown.

Leave my people in peace.

Let my boy live!

No! Father, don't!

Peace?

There will be no peace for you, Helm Hammerhand.

No! Wulf, please, I beg you!

End this now. Make the exchange.

Once they withdraw behind those walls,

you will never get them out.

Let them.

Murderer!

What have you done?

You will suffer as I have suffered.

You will know what it means to be alone, as I was!

Then, and only then, will I let you die.

Murderer!

No! No! No!

Sire!

No! No!

- My lord! Quickly! - Get the king!

Get him inside! Hurry!

- Help the king! - Come on!

All right! All right!

Come. Come inside.

I... I've got you!

- Come on! - Please. No!

Close the gates!

Close the gates!

Prepare the men for a siege.

Sire, winter is coming on.

A siege will cost both sides.

I don't care what it costs!

Surround the keep.

If anyone tries to escape, even a rat, kill it.

What of the boy's body?

Let it rot.

My lady?

You're needed, my lady.

Any word?

I'm sorry, milord.

High in the stronghold of Dunharrow,

Fréaláf waited.

Yet the fate of his kin remained unknown.

Had they survived?

Or were they buried now amongst the ashes of Edoras?

Hmm...

Summon the lords of Rohan to Edoras.

It's time they swear their loyalty to me.

The king who last wore that crown still lives.

Helm Hammerhand is but a shadow of what he once was.

He will perish soon enough.

Fear not, Targg.

Shadows cannot hurt you.

Return to the Hornburg.

She thinks she is safe behind those walls.

She will learn soon enough.

She is mistaken.

We have a chance,

if we can just outlast Wulf's army.

This is all of it?

It's not enough.

Search all the rooms. Take stock of everything.

What's that?

I've been keeper of these halls for 40 years.

I never thought I'd see such times.

Supplies are running terribly low.

It's going to be a long winter.

I can feel it in my bones.

Hmm.

Don't touch that, my lady.

That gown was made for a bride

that was pledged to the captain of the keep.

But she never got to wear it.

A strange fever took her the night before her wedding.

Some say many a lost soul wanders these halls.

And worse.

Who says it?

I do.

Nonsense.

Here, give me that.

I've tried to send for help.

All our messenger birds are shot down.

None can get past their archers.

What other choice is there but to submit?

Don't be a fool.

There will be no surrender,

only slaughter.

We've barely any food or fuel.

The other lords of Rohan

have retreated to their strongholds.

We are cut off!

How are we to survive?

We find a way.

We cannot fight amongst ourselves.

That is exactly what he wants us to do.

Despair is Wulf's greatest weapon against us.

We cannot succumb.

We find a way to survive, and we do it together.

Pretty words. Pretty words will not save us.

Thank you.

Here! Come take a look at this!

What are they doing down there?

What are they doing?

He's building a siege tower.

He means to breach the walls.

It is not easy to hold on to hope

when an ill wind blows.

Winter bit hard that year.

None were spared the endless cold.

Yet still the siege held fast.

The Rohirrim could do nothing but watch and wait,

as their doom drew ever near.

Any change?

It makes no sense.

His body is mending, and yet he does not wake.

I fear it is his mind that is broken.

What are you doing? That's for the king.

Hmm.

What about that?

What? No, not that.

Take it.

But, my lady...

that was Master Háma's.

And what use is it without him?

Ah.

I know this sickness is not born of any mortal wound.

It is grief that pulls you under.

Grief that you will never again see your sons.

You think all is lost.

But I am here, Father.

I am still here.

Please don't give up.

Huh?

Who's out there?

Show yourself!

What happened here?

Speak!

He killed them all. I saw.

He tore them apart with his bare hands.

Who did?

Helm Hammerhand.

He's no living man.

It's not natural, the thing I saw.

He's coming for us all!

Save us.

Father?

Father?

Night after night,

a ghostly horn echoed in the Deep.

A harbinger of death.

Fear took hold of Wulf's men.

Whispers spread that Helm Hammerhand

was human no more.

He bore no weapon, and no weapon could smite him.

A terror born of madness and grief.

A wraith.

Wulf returned to a camp stalked by death,

his carefully-laid plans in disarray.

He was king of nothing.

But Wulf, son of Freca,

would be damned before he was defeated by a ghost.

Is it true what they say?

What?

Has the king become a monster?

A terrible, unholy sight.

Eyes that burn like coals as he feasts on the flesh...

Helm Hammerhand is no wraith.

Then how did he disappear

from a locked and guarded room?

Answer me that.

I don't know. But I do know he can't walk through walls!

Perhaps he can.

Perhaps he can do many unnatural things.

Oh, aye? Such as what?

First comes the sound of the horn.

Three blasts.

Then he appears, fierce and gaunt,

stalking his prey!

The only ghoul haunting these halls is you!

Héra? Héra?

Olwyn, can you hear me?

Héra?

Where's she gone?

Olwyn!

Huh... The bodies...

The bodies.

They're gone!

The wraith! It's eaten them.

It's eaten them all!

I told you! We shouldn't be here!

My lady?

Any sign of Héra?

No.

Father?

Wait!

Father!

Wait!

Nasty. I don't like them ginger ones.

Nothing worse than a bit of ginga stuck in your teeth.

Oi! Wrot!

Check 'em before you eat 'em.

Ya fat slug.

Orcs.

I told you before,

orders from on high.

What does Mordor want with rings anyway?

Hey, the less I know, the better.

Hmm.

You smell that?

They can smell you from Mount Doom.

No. No.

I smell fresh meat.

Here, Shank.

No!

We got ourselves a live one.

Not much meat on her.

May as well feed her to the beast.

What is that infernal noise?

It's the wraith.

The wraith of Helm Hammerhand.

Get me General Targg!

No.

Huh...

Héra...

I'm sorry, child.

I'm so sorry.

I thought I'd lost you.

I was trying to protect you.

You can't tear Wulf's army apart one man at a time.

I can try.

I should have listened to you.

You're brave and clever,

and stronger than I knew.

And I was blind not to see it.

I've failed you.

All of you.

No.

Everything you've ever done was for Rohan.

For those you love.

When I was little, you told me,

"You only fail when you stop trying."

You never gave up.

Never.

You're freezing.

Come on, move!

Come. We have to make a break for the gates.

It's the only way back in.

Don't let go!

Help!

- What is that? - Open the gates!

Open the gates!

It's the king!

Open the gates!

Open them!

Stop them!

The gate is stuck!

Go! Go!

They're coming.

Hurry!

Hurry!

What are you doing? No.

No! please!

I need you.

Rohan still needs you.

No, Héra,

they need you.

You must lead them now.

I can't.

You can.

You are a daughter of kings.

The day you were born,

I was brought to my knees.

My pride...

my joy.

You could rule the world.

No.

Father!

- Come away, child! - Father!

Come away before you freeze to death!

Is there no one left?

Is there no one left to face me?

Fall back!

Sire! Come away!

You'll die out here!

Not while I live!

Do you hear me, Wulf?

By my life,

Rohan still stands.

Helm Hammerhand

still stands!

That is how they found him.

Frozen in place,

still standing guard

before the gates of the Hornburg.

His will unbroken,

his knees unbent.

Dead?

I'll give the order to call off the siege.

We can decamp and be out of here within the week.

We are not going anywhere.

You have won.

There is nothing left to conquer

but a group of starving refugees.

Sire, you need to look to your own people.

They are suffering.

This long winter has taken its toll.

Your stores of gold are all but gone.

I implore you,

abandon this place.

Do you think I want to be here?

Stuck in this filthy, forsaken valley?

I cannot leave!

Don't you understand? This is all I have.

Without vengeance,

this will have been for nothing.

No.

We cannot show weakness.

Not to her.

This keep will be her tomb.

How long do you think we have?

A few days before he breaches the walls.

We cannot fight him.

We cannot call for aid.

Even if we could, who would answer now?

I'm afraid, Olwyn.

I cannot save them.

Perhaps not. But there is something you can do.

You can choose.

You ask who would come if you called for aid?

Rohan would answer.

People need hope, Héra.

Something to believe in,

no matter how out of reach it may be.

So, you can wait and worry,

or you can choose.

You can choose how this ends.

Hmm.

This is your plan?

I never said it was a good one.

Not that I mind carrying this up 898 steps, my lady,

but why do you need your father's armor?

My father's helmet and horn

are known throughout the land.

Why do I need the king's armor, Lief?

For hope.

Hope?

Don't ask.

If I don't come back, will you look after...

Right, enough of that talk. You're coming back.

I have read that the Great Eagles

can understand the common tongue of men.

Please, I beg of you.

I need your help.

My people need your help.

We've had enough!

Where's the money we were promised?

This isn't about money.

Your mission is to take that fortress

so we can end this damn war!

We care not for your stone towers.

You should.

That fortress is full of such riches. Room upon room.

Those miserable rebels inside that keep cannot use it.

They cannot burn it. They cannot eat it.

It's yours, all of it.

Yours for the taking.

What are you doing?

The Hornburg has never been used to store gold!

But they don't know that, do they?

We can wait no longer. Give the order.

Right, you lot. You heard Lord Fréaláf,

time to abandon Dunharrow.

We make for Gondor at first light.

Leave none alive!

Kill them all!

He's moving the siege tower! We're out of time.

Then all is lost!

On the contrary.

An attack gives us a chance, one small chance, to escape.

Wulf will throw everything at us, which means...

His camp will be empty.

If we can clear the secret tunnel,

our people can reach the mountain pass.

From there, they can make for Dunharrow.

It's too risky. Wulf will see us.

No, he won't.

Because his eye will be fixed on me.

Are you ready?

Yes.

Good.

Where are we going?

Somewhere safe.

Are your soldiers ready?

Aye, they are.

We'll get them to Dunharrow.

Or die trying.

Shh.

Lief?

No. No, this is all wrong.

I'm your guard, miss.

I want to fight by your side till the end.

I need you to protect what is most important.

I need you to protect our people.

Well, go on with you then.

A straight line, mind you.

Don't be leading them in circles.

He wanted a bride and so a bride he shall have.

It's time.

I swore to your father, from your very first breath,

that I would always be by your side.

I swear it still.

To my very last.

What's so funny? Why are you laughing?

Uh...

Because I get to choose...

and I choose not to be afraid.

Ride strong, child.

let's go.

We can't go out there! They'll catch us!

No, they won't.

Someone stayed behind to make sure they wouldn't,

to protect us.

Who did?

Have you ever heard of the Shieldmaidens?

No.

They were women of The Borderlands.

When all the soldiers had died,

they took up arms.

They defended Rohan when no one else could.

Some believe they're all gone now.

Are they?

Not all of them.

Advance!

Hold!

What is this?

You come before me as a bride?

You think, after everything, I would marry you?

I am bride to no man.

Tell me then. To whom are you pledged?

Death.

Let us end this, Wulf,

as it began, with you and I.

If I best you in combat, you let my people go.

Why would I agree to such terms?

You have nothing to offer me.

You may wear a crown upon your head,

but that does not make you a king.

I am the last of the true bloodline of Rohan.

I offer you a chance to prove yourself

worthy of that throne.

You were too much of a coward to face my father.

So, face me now.

The girl is clever. She is up to something.

Do not take the bait.

I accept your challenge.

You think I am afraid of you?

You should be.

Hold positions.

This way.

Keep moving, keep moving.

Call off your men.

You gave me your word.

I did.

Launch the attack.

No.

The girl was right.

You're a coward.

A coward with no honor.

With or without honor, men bleed just the same.

Attack! Attack!

Leave the girl to me!

Hold your positions!

They're closin' in!

Move the last group now!

Go! Hurry!

You take care of this.

Our people still have a song or two left in them yet.

Héra!

Fire!

Fire!

You have lost, Héra.

The Hornburg will fall...

just like your brothers.

Just like the great Helm Hammerhand.

Hammerhand?

The wraith! The wraith!

Helm Hammerhand has come!

The dead are upon us! Run for your life!

For Rohan!

Forth Eorlingas!

Our people do not call this keep

the Hornburg anymore.

Héra!

They have named it for its true king.

Helm's Deep.

I knew it.

From the moment I first met you,

I knew you would be my doom.

Héra...

Héra!

After them!

Cut off the retreat!

Héra, you're hurt.

Let them go.

Let them return to their homes,

their loved ones.

Rohan has seen enough war.

Show mercy, cousin.

Then let mercy rule this day.

Can't catch me!

Come on, now, supper's ready!

The long winter had ended,

the green promise of spring had come.

So began the second line of kings,

and the hope for a more peaceful age.

Fréaláf Hildeson, tenth king of Rohan,

first lord of the second line...

I present to you the new master of Isengard...

Saruman the White.

If you should ever be in need of assistance, my lord.

It should have been you, Héra.

I never wanted a crown.

It was always meant for others.

Even so, you would have worn it well.

I hear you've received a message.

Yes.

An unexpected invitation.

Of course. Adventure beckons.

Go well, cousin.

But should your king ever need you...

The king will always have my sword,

my loyalty, and my love.

What are you doing here?

What does it look like?

You're no longer bound to my service.

I know.

So, where are we going?

We ride for the Fords of Isen to meet a wizard.

He has questions about the Orcs I encountered

and the rings they were stealing.

Oh, aye? And does this wizard have a name?

He has many.

But in the common tongue, he's simply known as Gandalf.

Her name was Héra, the only daughter of Helm .

"Wild," some called her. "Headstrong and free."

And so she remained, to the end of her days.