Lloyd Alexander - Taran Wanderer

"Glew!" Taran murmured. "So it was you who cheated him."

"Like all your kind," answered Morda, "his own greed and ambition cheated him, not I. His fate I know not, nor do I care to know. This much he surely learned: The arts of enchantment are not bought with gold."

"Nor stolen through heartlessness and evil, as you robbed the Princess Angharad," Taran flung back.

"Heartlessness? Evil?" said Morda. "These words are toys for creatures such as you. To me they mean nothing; my powers have borne me beyond them. The book served to make a fool taste his folly. But the jewel, the jewel served me, as all things will do at the end. The woman Angharad had told me the gem would lighten burdens and ease harsh tasks. And so it did, though years I spent in probing its secrets until I gained mastery of its use. At my command it dwindled the heaviest faggots to no more than twigs. With the gem's help I raised a wall of thorns. As my skill grew, I found the waters of a hidden spring."

The wizard's unblinking eyes glittered triumphantly. "At last," he whispered, "at last the gem led me to what I had ever sought: a Fair Folk treasure trove.

"This trove held none of the life-giving stones," Morda went on. "But what matter! If not here, then would I find them elsewhere. Now all Fair Folk treasure, mines, hidden pathways― all lay open to me.

"One of the Fair Folk watchers came upon me then. I dared not let him raise an alarm. Though none had ever stood against any of them, I did so!" cried Morda. "My jewel was more than a trinket to lighten a scullery maid's toil. I had grasped the heart of its power. At my command this Fair Folk spy turned to a sightless, creeping mole! Yes," Morda hissed, "I had gained power even beyond what I sought. Who now would disobey me when I held the means to make men into the weak, groveling creatures they truly are! Did I seek only a gem? The whole kingdom of the Fair Folk was within my grasp. And all of Prydain! It was then I understood my true destiny. The race of men at last had found its master."

"Its master?" Taran cried, aghast at Morda's words. "You are viler than those you scorn. Dare you speak of greed and envy? The power of Angharad's gem was meant to serve, not enslave. Late or soon, your life will be forfeit to your evil."

The glint in Morda's lidless eyes flickered like a serpent's tongue. "Think you so?" he answered softly.

From beyond the chamber came a shout, a sudden crashing amid the wall of thorns. Morda nodded curtly. "Another fly finds my web."

"Fflewddur!" Taran gasped as Morda strode from the chamber. He flung himself closer to Gurgi and the two tore at each other's bonds; in vain, for within a few moments the wizard returned, half-dragging a figure he trussed securely and threw to the ground beside the companions. It was, as Taran feared, the luckless bard.

"Great Belin, what's happened to you? What's happened to me?" groaned Fflewddur, stunned. "You didn't come back…I went to have a look― feared you'd got caught somehow in those brambles." The bard painfully shook his head. "What a jolt! My neck will never be the same."

"You shouldn't have followed us," Taran whispered. "I had no way to warn you. What of Doli?"

"Safe enough," replied Fflewddur. "Safer, at least, than we are now."

Morda had been intently watching the companions. "So it was the Fair Folk who sent you to spy on me. You are leagued with the dwarfish creature foolish enough to think he could escape me. So be it. Did I think to spare you? You will share his fate."

"Yes, Doli of the Fair Folk is our companion," Taran cried. "Unloose him from your spell. I warn you: Harm none of us. Your plan will fail, Morda. I am Taran of Caer Dallben, and we are under the protection of Dallben himself."

"Dallben," spat Morda. "Gray-bearded dotard! His powers cannot shield you now. Even Dallben will bow before me and do my bidding. As for you," he added, "I will not slay you. That would be paltry punishment. You will live― as long as you are able to live in the shapes you will soon have; live and know, during every moment of your wretched days, the cost of defying me."

Morda took the jewel and chain from about his neck and turned to Fflewddur. "Let your boldness in seeking your fellows now be cowardice. Flee at the barking of hounds or the tread of hunters. Crouch in fear at the flutter of a leaf and the passing of every shadow."

The gem flashed blindingly. Morda's hand shot forward. Taran heard Fflewddur cry out, but the bard's voice died in his throat. Gurgi screamed and Taran, horror-stricken, saw the bard no longer at his side. Kicking frantically in Morda's grasp was a dun-colored hare.

With a harsh laugh Morda held the animal aloft and stared scornfully at it a moment before flinging it into a wicker basket near Kaw's cage. The wizard strode to the companions and stood above Gurgi whose eyes rolled in terror and who could only gibber wordlessly.

Taran struggled against his bonds. Morda raised the gem. "This creature," said the wizard, "this half-brute serves no use. Feeble cringing beast, be weaker still, and prey to owls and serpents."

With all his strength Taran fought to break the thongs holding him. "You destroy us, Morda!" he shouted. "But your own evil will destroy you!"

Even as Taran cried these words, the gem flashed once again. Where Gurgi had lain, a gray field mouse reared on its hind legs, then fled squeaking to a corner of the chamber.

Morda turned his unlidded eyes on Taran.

"AND YOU," SAID MORDA, "your doom will not be to lose yourself in forest or burrow. My plan fail? Here shall you stay prisoner and see my triumph. But what shape shall I give you? A dog whining for scraps from my table? A caged eagle eating out his heart for the freedom of the skies?"

Angharad's gem dangled from Morda's fingers. Despair choked Taran as he stared at the ornament like a bird fascinated by a serpent. He envied the wretched Gurgi and Fflewddur. A hawk's talons or a fox's jaws would shortly put a merciful finish to their days; his own would wear themselves out in the slow agony of captivity, like stone grinding against stone, until Morda was pleased to end them.

The wizard's taunts burned like drops of venom; but as Morda spoke, Taran felt a furry body press against his bound wrists. Startled, he almost cried out. His heart leaped and pounded. It was the mouse that had once been Gurgi.

Heedless of its plight, the creature had scurried noiselessly on tiny paws to the corner where Taran lay. Unseen by the wizard, the mouse flung himself on Taran's bonds and with his sharp teeth began hurriedly gnawing at the thongs.

Morda, as if undecided, toyed with the jewel. Gurgi, Taran felt, was chewing desperately at the stubborn bonds; time pressed, and despite the creature's brave efforts the thongs held fast. Taran strove to draw the leather taut to aid the frantic mouse, but there was no sign of loosening, and now the wizard raised the glittering gem.

"Hold!" Taran cried. "If my fate is to be a beast, grant me this much: Let me choose which it must be."

Morda paused. "Choose?" His bloodless lips tightened in a scornful smile. "What can your wishes matter to me? And yet― perhaps it would be fitting if you chose your own prison. Speak," he commanded. "Quickly."

"At Caer Dallben," Taran began, speaking as slowly as he dared, "I was Assistant Pig-Keeper. In my charge was a white pig…" At his wrists one strand parted. But Gurgi's strength had begun to ebb.

"What, then," interrupted Morda, laughing harshly. "do you crave to be a swine? To wallow in mire and grub for acorns? Yes, pig-keeper, your choice indeed is fitting."

"It is my only wish," said Taran, "for it may at least remind me of a happier time."

Morda nodded. "Yes. And for that very reason, your wish will not be granted. Clever pig-keeper," he jeered. "You have told me what you most desire. Now I may be all the more sure you will not have it."