'I wish I could hurt you, Wormtongue' thought Eomer, as he was being held by Wormtongue's thugs. 'And I wish I could hurt Saruman too, ten thousands times more, slowly and pitiless, pouring all my hurt into each blow.'

He heard the thugs laugh loudly as his face hit the stables' soil.

'Saruman, the cause for bringing pain and death to my people, for obscuring my uncle's mind and extinguishing more and more the light of life in his eyes, for digging scars where only kind hands should be permitted to dwell.'