Lloyd Alexander - The Book of Three

"The Lake Sprites have been quarreling all day; now they're sulking. Their hair's a mess. And who does that reflect on? Who has to jolly them along, coax them, plead with them? The answer is obvious.

"What thanks do I get for it?" King Eiddileg ranted on. "None at all! Has any of you long-legged gawks ever taken the trouble― even once, mind you― to offer the simplest expression of gratitude, such as, 'Thank you, King Eiddileg, for the tremendous effort and inconvenience you've gone to, so that we can enjoy a little charm and beauty in the world above, which would be so unspeakably grim without you and your Fair Folk'? Just a few words of honest appreciation?

"By no means! Just the opposite! If any of you thick-skulled oafs come on one of the Fair Folk above ground, what happens? You seize him! You grab him with your great hammy hands and try to make him lead you to buried treasure. Or you squeeze him until you get three wishes out of him― not satisfied with one, oh, no, but three !

"Well, I don't mind telling you this," Eiddileg went on, his face turning redder by the moment, "I've put an end to all this wish-granting and treasure-scavenging. No more! Absolutely not! I'm surprised you didn't ruin us long ago!"

Just then a chorus of voices rose from behind the door of Eiddileg's throne room. The harmonies penetrated even the walls of heavy stone. Taran had never in his life heard such beautiful singing. He listened, enchanted, forgetting, for the moment, all but the soaring melody. Eiddileg himself stopped shouting and puffing until the voices died away.

"That's something to be thankful for," the King said at last. "The Children of Evening have evidently got together again. Not as good as you might want, but they'll manage somehow."

"I have not heard the songs of the Fair Folk until now," Taran said. "I had never realized how lovely they were."

"Don't try to flatter me," Eiddileg cried, trying to look furious, yet beaming at the same time.

"What surprises me," Eilonwy said, while the bard plucked meditatively at his harp, trying to recapture the notes of the song, "is why you go to so much trouble. If you Fair Folk dislike all of us above ground, why do you bother?"

"Professional pride, my dear girl," said the Dwarf King, putting a chubby hand to his heart and bowing slightly. "When we Fair Folk do something, we do it right. Oh, yes," he sighed, "never mind the sacrifices we make. It's a task that needs doing, and so we do it. Never mind the cost. For myself," he added, with a wave of his hand, "it doesn't matter. I've lost sleep, I've lost weight, but that's not important…"

If King Eiddileg had lost weight, Taran thought to himself, what must he have been like beforehand? He decided against asking this question.

"Well, I appreciate it," Eilonwy said. "I think it's amazing what you've been able to do. You must be extremely clever, and any Assistant Pig-Keepers who happen to be in this throne room might do well to pay attention."

"Thank you, dear girl," said King Eiddileg, bowing lower. "I see you're the sort of person one can talk to intelligently. It's unheard of for one of you big shambling louts to have any kind of insight into these matters. But you at least seem to understand the problems we face."

"Sire," interrupted Taran, "we understand your time is precious. Let us disturb you no more. Give us safe conduct to Caer Dathyl."

"What?" shouted Eiddileg. "Leave here? Impossible! Unheard of! Once you're with the Fair Folk, my good lad, you stay , and no mistake about it. Oh, I suppose I could stretch a point, for the sake of the young lady, and let you off easily. Only put you to sleep for fifty years, or turn you all into bats; but that would be a pure favor, mind you."

"Our task is urgent," Taran cried. "Even now we have delayed too long."

"That's your concern, not mine." Eiddileg shrugged.

"Then we shall make our own way," Taran shouted, drawing his sword. Fflewddur's blade leaped out and the bard stood with Taran, ready to fight.

"More clotted nonsense," King Eiddileg said, looking contemptuously at the swords pointed toward him. He shook his fingers at them. "There! And there! Now you might try to move your arms."

Taran strained every muscle. His body felt turned to stone.

"Put your swords away and let's talk this over calmly," said the Dwarf King, gesturing again. "If you give me any decent reason why I should let you go, I might think it over and answer you promptly, say in a year or two."

There could be no use, Taran saw, in concealing the reasons for his journey; he explained to Eiddileg what had befallen them. The Dwarf King ceased his blustering at the mention of Arawn, but when Taran had finished, King Eiddileg shook his head.

"This is a conflict you great gawks must attend to yourselves. The Fair Folk owe you no allegiance," he said angrily. "Prydain belonged to us before the race of men came. You drove us underground. You plundered our mines, you blundering clodpoles! You stole our treasures, and you keep on stealing them, you clumsy oafs…"

"Sire," Taran answered, "I can speak for no man but myself. I have never robbed you and I have no wish to. My task means more to me than your treasures. If there is ill will between the Fair Folk and the race of men, then it is a matter to be settled between them. But if the Horned King triumphs, if the shadow of Annuvin falls on the land above you, Arawn's hand will reach your deepest caverns."

"For an Assistant Pig-Keeper," said Eiddileg, "you're reasonably eloquent. But the Fair Folk will worry about Arawn when the time comes."

"The time has come," Taran said. "I only hope it has not passed."

"I don't think you really know what's going on above ground," Eilonwy suddenly exclaimed. "You talk about charm and beauty and sacrificing yourself to make things pleasant for people. I don't believe you care a bit for that. You're too conceited and stubborn and selfish…"

"Conceited!" shouted Eiddileg, his eyes popping. "Selfish! You won't find anyone more openhearted and generous. How dare you say that? What do you want, my life's blood?" With that, he tore off his cloak and threw it in the air, pulled the rings from his fingers and tossed them in every direction. "Go ahead! Take it all! Leave me ruined! What else do you want― my whole kingdom? Do you want to leave? Go, by all means. The sooner the better! Stubborn? I'm too soft! It will be the death of me! But little you care!"

At that moment the door of the throne room burst open again. Two dwarf warriors clung frantically to Gurgi, who swung them about as if they were rabbits.

"Joyous greetings! Faithful Gurgi is back with mighty heroes! This time valiant Gurgi did not run! Oh, no, no! Brave Gurgi fought with great whackings and smackings. He triumphed! But then, mighty lords are carried away. Clever Gurgi goes seeking and peeking to save them, yes! And he finds them!

"But that is not all. Oh, faithful, honest, fearless Gurgi finds more. Surprises and delights, oh, joy!" Gurgi was so excited that he began dancing on one foot, spinning around and clapping his hands.

"Mighty warriors go to seek a piggy! It is clever, wise Gurgi who finds her!"

"Hen Wen?" cried Taran. "Where is she?"

"Here, mighty lord," Gurgi shouted, "the piggy is here!"

TARAN TURNED ACCUSINGLYto King Eiddileg. "You said nothing of Hen Wen."

"You didn't ask me," said Eiddileg.

"That's sharp practice," Fflewddur muttered, "even for a king."

"It's worse than a lie," Taran said angrily. "You'd have let us go our way, and we'd never have known what happened to her."

"You should be ashamed of yourself," Eilonwy put in, shaking her finger at the King, who appeared most embarrassed at being found out. "It's like looking the other way when someone's about to walk into a hole."