Lloyd Alexander - The Black Cauldron

"I suppose, really," said the bard, "it passes the time for them. There's little enough to do in the middle of these dismal bogs."

"I shall indeed have to see for myself," Eilonwy declared. "There's nothing so strange about weaving, but beyond that I can't make any sense of what you say."

With Taran leading, the companions stole cautiously to the window. It was as he had said. Inside the cottage three figures went about their tasks, but not one of them resembled Orddu, Orwen, or Orgoch.

"They're beautiful!" whispered Eilonwy.

"I've heard of hags trying to disguise themselves as beautiful maidens," murmured the bard, "but I've never heard of beautiful maidens wanting to disguise themselves as hags. It isn't natural, and I don't mind telling you it makes me edgy. I think we'd better seize the cauldron and be gone."

"I don't know who they are," said Taran, "but I fear they are more powerful than we could even guess. Somehow we've fallen on something― I don't know what. It troubles me. Yes, we must take the cauldron as soon as we can, but we shall wait until they're asleep."

" If they sleep," said the bard. "Now that I've seen this, nothing would surprise me, not even if they hung by their toes all night, like bats."

For a long time Taran feared the bard was right and that the enchantresses might not sleep at all. The companions took turns watching the cottage and it was not until almost dawn that the candle finally winked out. In an agony of waiting, Taran still delayed. Soon a loud snoring rose from within.

"They must have gone back to themselves again," remarked the bard. "I can't imagine beautiful ladies snoring like that. No, it's Orgoch. I'd recognize that snort anywhere."

In the still shadows of the false dawn the companions hastened to the chicken roost where Eilonwy ventured to light her bauble.

The Crochan squatted in its corner, black and baleful.

"Hurry now," Taran ordered, taking hold of the handle. "Fflewddur and Eilonwy, pick up those rings; and Gurgi, lift the other side. We'll haul it out and rope it to the horses. Ready? All lift together."

The companions gave a mighty heave, then nearly fell to the ground. The cauldron had not moved.

"It's heavier than I thought," said Taran. "Try again." He made to shift his grip on the handle. But his hands would not come free. In a spurt of fear, he tried to pull away. It was in vain.

"I say," muttered the bard, "I seem to be caught on something."

"So am I!" Eilonwy cried, struggling to tear her hands loose.

"And Gurgi is caught!" howled the terrified Gurgi. "Oh, sorrow! He cannot move!"

Desperately the companions flung themselves back and forth, fighting against the mute, iron enemy. Taran wrenched and tugged until he sobbed for lack of strength. Eilonwy had dropped in exhaustion, her hands still on the heavy ring. Once again, Taran strained to break free. The Black Crochan held him fast.

A figure in a long night robe appeared at the doorway.

"It's Orddu!" cried the bard. "We'll be toads for sure!"

ORDDU, BLINKING SLEEPILYand looking more disheveled than ever, stepped inside the chicken roost. Behind her followed the other two enchantresses, also in flapping night robes, their hair unbound and falling about their shoulders in a mass of snarls and tangles. They had again taken the shapes of crones, in no way resembling the maidens Taran had spied through the window.

Orddu raised a sputtering candle above her head and peered at the companions.

"Oh, the poor lambs!" she cried. "What have they gone and done? We tried to warn them about the nasty Crochan, but the headstrong little goslings wouldn't listen! My, oh my," she clucked sorrowfully, "now they've got their little fingers caught!"

"Don't you think," said Orgoch in a croaking whisper, "we should start the fire?"

Orddu turned to her. "Do be silent, Orgoch," she cried. "What a dreadful thought. It's much too early for breakfast."

"Never too early," muttered Orgoch.

"Look at them," Orddu went on fondly. "They're so charming when they're frightened. Like birdlings without their feathers."

"You have tricked us, Orddu!" Taran cried. "You knew we'd find the cauldron and you knew what would happen!"

"Why, of course we did, my chicken," Orddu replied sweetly. "We were only curious to find out what you'd do when you did find it. And now you've found it, and now we know!"

Taran struggled desperately to free himself. Despite his terror, he flung back his head and glared defiantly at Orddu. "Kill us if you choose, you evil hags!" he cried. "Yes, we would have stolen the cauldron and destroyed it! And so shall I try again, as long as I live!" Taran threw himself furiously against the immovable Crochan and once again with all his strength tried vainly to wrest it from the ground.

"I love to see them get angry, don't you?" Orwen whispered happily to Orgoch.

"Do take care," Orddu advised Taran, "or you'll harm yourself with all that thrashing about. We forgive you for calling us hags," she added indulgently. "You're upset, poor chicken, and liable to say anything."

"You are evil creatures!" Taran cried. "Do with us what you will, but sooner or later you shall be overcome. Gwydion shall learn of our fate. And Dallben…"

"Yes, yes!" shouted Gurgi. "They will find you, oh, yes! With great fightings and smitings!"

"My dear pullets," replied Orddu, "you still don't understand, do you? Evil? Why, bless your little thumping hearts, we aren't evil."

"I should hardly call this 'good'," muttered the bard. "Not, at least, from a personal point of view."

"Of course not," agreed Orddu. "We're neither good nor evil. We're simply interested in things as they are. And things as they are, at the moment, seem to be that you're caught by the Crochan."

"And you don't care!" cried Eilonwy. "That's worse than being evil!"

"Certainly we care, my dear," Orwen said soothingly. "It's that we don't care in quite the same way you do, or rather care isn't really a feeling we can have."

"Come now," said Orddu, "don't trouble your thoughts with such matters. We've been talking and talking and we have some pleasant news for you. Bring the Crochan outdoors― it's so stuffy and eggy in here― and we shall tell you. Go ahead," she added, "you can lift it now."

Taran cast Orddu a distrustful glance, but ventured to put his weight against the cauldron. It moved, and he discovered, too, his hands were free.

With much labor the companions managed to raise the heavy Crochan and carry it from the chicken roost.

Outside, the sun had already risen. As the companions set the cauldron on the ground and quickly drew away, the rays of dawn turned the black iron as red as blood.

"Yes, now as I was saying," Orddu continued, while Taran and his companions rubbed their aching arms and hands, "we've talked it over and we agree― even Orgoch agrees― that you shall have the Crochan if you truly want it."

"You'll let us take it?" cried Taran. "After all you've done?"

"Quite so," replied Orddu. "The Crochan is useless― except for making Cauldron-Born. Arawn has spoiled it for anything else, as you might imagine. It's sad it should be so, but that's the way things are. Now, I assure you, Cauldron-Born are the last creatures in the world we should want around here. We've decided the Crochan is nothing but a bother to us. And, since you're friends of Dallben…"

"You're giving us the Crochan?" Taran began in astonishment.

"Delighted to oblige you ladies," said the bard.

"Gently, gently, my ducklings," Orddu interrupted. " Give you the Crochan? Oh, goodness no! We never give anything. Only what is worth earning is worth having. But we shall allow you the opportunity to buy it."