Lloyd Alexander - The High King

Gwydion's haggard face broke into a smile. "So be it, Princess. What I cannot prevent, I accept. Ride with me, all those who choose, but no farther than Smoit's stronghold at Caer Cadarn.''

"Ah, Princess," Coll sighed, shaking his head. "I will not gainsay Lord Gwydion, whatever. But it is hardly the conduct of a young lady to force her own way thus."

"Certainly not," Eilonwy agreed. "That's the first thing Queen Teleria taught me: A lady doesn't insist on having her own way. Then, next thing you know, it all works out somehow, without one's even trying. I thought I'd never learn, though it's really quite easy once you get the knack."

Without further delay, Taran lifted Kaw from his fireside perch and carried him to the dooryard. This time the crow did not clack his beak or gabble impudently. Instead of his customary scoldings, hoarse quackings, and mischievous foolery. Kaw hunched on Taran's wrist and cocked a beady, attentive eye, listening closely while Taran carefully explained the task.

Taran raised his arm and Kaw flapped his glossy wings in farewell.

"Annuvin!" Kaw croaked. "Dyrnwyn!"

The crow flew aloft. Within moments Kaw was high over Caer Dallben. The wind bore him like a leaf, and he hung poised above the watching companions. Then, with a roguish flirt of his wings, Kaw sped northwestward. Taran strained his eyes to follow his flight until the crow vanished into the looming clouds. In sadness and disquiet, Taran at last turned away. Kaw, he was sure, would be alert to the perils of the journey: the arrows of the Huntsmen; the cruel talons and slashing beaks of the gwythaints, Arawn's fierce winged messengers. More than once had gwythaints attacked the companions, and even the fledglings could be dangerous.

Taran recalled, from his boyhood, the young gwythaint whose life he had saved, and he well remembered the bird's sharp claws. Despite Kaw's gallant heart and sharp wits, Taran feared for the safety of the crow; and feared, still more, for Gwydion's quest. And to him came the foreboding that an even heavier fate might ride on Kaw's outspread wings.

It had been agreed that when the travelers neared Great Avren, King Rhun would escort the disgruntled Glew to the ship anchored in the river, there to await his return, for Rhun was determined to ride with Gwydion to Caer Cadarn. Glew liked neither cooling his heels on the swaying vessel nor sleeping on the hard pebbles of the shore; but the protests of the former giant could not move the King of Mona to change his plan.

While Gwydion held a last, hurried council with Dallben, the companions began leading the horses from the stable. The wise Melyngar, Gwydion's white, golden-maned steed, waited calmly for her master. Melynlas, Taran's stallion, snorted and impatiently pawed the ground.

Eilonwy was already mounted on her favorite, the bay mare Lluagor. In a fold of her cloak the Princess carried her most treasured possession: the golden sphere that glowed brightly when she cupped it in her hands.

"I'm leaving that uncomfortable crown behind," Eilonwy declared. "There's no use for it at all, except to hold down your hair, and that's hardly worth the blisters. But I'd sooner walk on my hands than go without my bauble. Besides, if we need a light, we shall have one. That's much more practical than a hoop on top of your head." In a saddlebag, she had packed the embroidery made for Taran, intending to finish it along the way. "Perhaps," Eilonwy added, "I might fix the color of Hen Wen's eyes while I'm at it."

Fflewddur's mount was the huge, tawny cat, Llyan, herself tall as a horse. Seeing the bard, she purred loudly, and Fflewddur could barely keep the powerful animal from knocking him down with her nuzzling.

"Gently, old girl," cried the bard, as Llyan thrust her great head between his neck and, shoulder. "I know you want a tune on my harp. I shall play one later, I promise you."

Glew had recognized Llyan immediately. "That's not fair," he sniffed. "By all rights she belongs to me."

"Yes," replied Fflewddur, "if you count feeding her those vile lotions you once brewed to make her grow bigger. If you dare to ride her, you're welcome to try. Though I warn you― Llyan has a memory longer than her tail."

Llyan, indeed, had begun lashing her tail at the sight of Glew. She towered over the pudgy little man, her yellow eyes blazed, her whiskers twitched, her tufted ears went flat against her head; and from her throat came a sound quite unlike her greeting to the bard.

Fflewddur quickly strummed a melody on his harp. Llyan turned her eyes from Glew and her mouth curved in an enormous smile and she blinked fondly at the bard.

However, Glew's pale face had gone paler and he edged away from the cat. "When I was a giant," Glew muttered, "things were considerably better managed."

King Rhun saddled his dapple gray steed. Since Coll, who had also decided to accompany Gwydion, would ride the sorrel mare Llamrei, foal of Melynlas and Lluagor, Glew had no choice but to climb up behind Gurgi on his shaggy pony― a companionship unwelcome to all three. Taran, meanwhile, helped Coll rummage in the stables, forge, and tool sheds for weapons.

"Few enough of them there are," said Coll. "These spears have served me well as beanpoles," the stout warrior added. "I had hoped never to use them for another purpose. Alas, the only blade I can give Gwydion is rusted from propping up one of the apple trees. As for helmets, there are none save my leather cap; and the sparrows have a nest in it. I shall not disturb them. But my own old pate is tough as leather," Coll said, winking. "It can last me to Caer Cadarn and back.

"And you, my lad," Coll went on cheerfully, though he had not failed to notice Taran's troubled frown, "I remember a day when an Assistant Pig-Keeper would have been all flash and fire to ride with Lord Gwydion. Now you look as glum as a frostbitten turnip."

Taran smiled. "I myself would ride to Annuvin, if Gwydion allowed me. What you say is true, old friend. For the boy I was, this would have been a bold adventure, full of glory. This much have I learned: A man's life weighs more than glory, and a price paid in blood is a heavy reckoning.

"My heart is not easy," Taran added. "Long ago, you made your way to Annuvin, to rescue Hen Wen after she had been stolen from you. Tell me: What chance has Gwydion alone in Arawn's realm?"

"No man has better," said Coll, shouldering the spears. And he was gone from the shed before Taran realized the old warrior had not really answered him at all.

Caer Dallben lay far behind them and the day was darkening when the companions made camp deep in the shadows of the forest.

Eilonwy happily flung herself to the ground. "It's been long since I've slept on comfortable roots and rocks!" she cried. "What a pleasant change from goosefeathers!"

Gwydion allowed a fire to be built; and while Coll saw to the mounts, Gurgi opened his wallet of food to share out provisions. For the most part the companions were silent, chilled, and stiff after the long day's journey. King Rhun, however, had lost none of his good spirits. As the travelers huddled closer to the pale flames, Rhun picked up a twig and scratched busily in the earth, covering the ground before him with a spider web of lines.

"About that seawall," said Rhun. "I think I see how it went wrong. Yes, exactly so. Now, here's the way to do it."

From across the fire Taran saw Rhun's eyes brightly eager and on his face the familiar boyish grin. But Rhun, Taran sensed, was no longer the feckless princeling he had known on the Isle of Mona. As Rhun was absorbed in the tasks he had planned, so Taran had been caught up in his own labors at forge, loom, and potter's wheel. And if Rhun had found manhood in ruling a kingdom, Taran had found the same in toiling among the staunch folk of the Free Commots. He watched Rhun with new affection. The King of Mona spoke on and Taran's interest was drawn to the scratchings on the ground. He studied them as Rhun continued. Taran smiled. One thing had not changed, he realized; as usual, the King of Mona's intentions went somewhat beyond the King of Mona's skill.