:: Mother of last minute rescues ::

We begin with my favourite passage from arguably the finest fiction writer of modern times. From the chapter, The Siege of Gondor, the armies of Mordor have massed outside the city of Minas Tirith. Denethor, Steward of Gondor, has gone mad with grief over the hurts of his son, Faramir, and deep in the midsts of despair. The soldiers are scared witless by the presence of the Nazgul, and overwhelmed by the seemingly impossible task of defending the city. Grond, the great battering ram of the dark forces have shattered the great gates. The Witchking of Angmar, Lord of the Nazgul, walks in the doorway which no enemy has passed through before. The only person barring his way is Gandalf the White. In defiance, he calls out to the Witchking, ordering him to return to the dark land whence he came. Laughing at Gandalf, the Nazgul replies that this is his time.

Gandalf did not move. And in that very moment, away behind in some courtyard of the City, a cock crowed. Shrill and clear he crowed, reeking nothing of wizardry or war, welcoming only the morning that in the sky far above the shadows of death was coming with the dawn.

And as if in answer, there came from far away another note. Horns, horns, horns. In dark Mindolluin's side they dimly echoed. Great horns of the North wildly blowing. Rohan had come at last.

- J.R.R. Tolkien, LotR: The Return of the King