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As Ellidyr swung his blade again, Taran lost his footing and toppled from the boulder. He tried to rise,
but the stones slipped from under him and he stumbled backward. He threw up his hands. The current
was clutching at him and he fell. The sharp edge of a rock loomed up, and he knew no more.
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Chapter 18
The Loss
IT WAS NIGHTwhen Taran came to his senses. He found himself propped against a log, a cloak
wrapped around him. His head throbbed; his body ached. Eilonwy was bending over him anxiously.
Taran blinked his eyes and tried to sit up. For some moments his memory held only a mingling of sights
and sounds, of rushing water, a stone, a shout; his head still whirled. A yellow light shone in his eyes. He
realized, as his mind gradually cleared, that the girl had lit the golden sphere and had set it on the log.
Beside him, a small fire blazed. Crouched next to it, the bard and Gurgi fed twigs to the flames.
"I'm glad you decided to wake up," Eilonwy said, trying to appear cheerful, as Fflewddur and Gurgi
came to kneel beside Taran. "You swallowed so much of the river we were afraid we'd never be able to
pump it out of you, and that rap on your head didn't help matters."
"The Crochan!" Taran gasped. "Ellidyr!" He looked around him. "This fire," he murmured, "we dare not
show a light Arawn's warriors..."
"It was either build a fire or let you freeze to death," said the bard, "so of course we decided on the first.
At this point," he added with a wry grin, "I doubt it can make too much difference. Since the cauldron is
out of our hands, I don't believe Arawn will have quite the same interest in us. Happily, I might say."
"Where is the Crochan?" Taran asked. Despite his spinning head, he raised himself from the log.
"It is with Ellidyr," said Eilonwy.
"And if you ask wherehe is," put in the bard, "we can answer you very quickly: we do not know."
"Wicked prince goes off with wicked pot," Gurgi added, "yes, yes, with ridings and stridings!"
"Good riddance to them," agreed Fflewddur. "I don't know which is worse, the Crochan or Ellidyr.
Now, at least, they're both together."
"You let him go?" Taran cried in alarm. He put his hands to his head. "You let him steal the Crochan?"
"Letis hardly the word, my friend," the bard answered ruefully.
"You seem to have forgotten," Eilonwy added. "Ellidyr was trying to kill you. It's a good thing you fell
into the river, because I can tell you the goings-on weren't very pleasant on the shore.
"It was terrible, as a matter of fact," the girl went on. "We'd all started after Ellidyr--- by that time you
were already floating down the river like a twig in a--- well, like a twig in a river. We tried to save you,
but Ellidyr turned on us.
"I'm certain he meant to kill us," Eilonwy said. "You should have seen his face, and his eyes. He was
furious. Worse than that. Fflewddur tried to stand against him..."
"That villain has the strength of ten!" said the bard. "I could barely draw my sword--- it's clumsy when
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you have a broken arm, you understand. But I faced him! A dreadful clash of weapons! You've never
seen the prowess of an outraged Fflam! Another moment and I should have had him at my mercy--- in a
manner of speaking," the bard added quickly. "He knocked me sprawling."
"And Gurgi fought, too! Yes, yes, with smitings and bitings!"
"Poor Gurgi," said Eilonwy, "he did his best. But Ellidyr picked him up and tossed him against a tree.
When I tried to draw my bow, he snatched it away and snapped it in his hands."
"He chased us into the woods, after that," Fflewddur said. "I've never seen a man in such a frenzy.
Shouting at the top of his voice, calling us robbers and oath-breakers, and that we were trying to keep
him in second place, that's all he's able to say or think now, if you choose to call that thinking."
Taran shook his head sadly. "I fear the black beast has swallowed him up as Adaon warned," he said. "I
pity Ellidyr from the bottom of my heart."
"I should pity him more," muttered Fflewddur, "if he hadn't tried to slice off my head."
"For long, I hated him," Taran said, "but in the little while I bore Adaon's brooch, I believe I saw him
more clearly. His heart is unhappy and tormented. Nor shall I forget what he said to me: that I taunted
him for seeking glory yet clung to it myself." Taran spread his hands in front of him. "With dirty hands," he
said heavily.
"Pay no heed to what Ellidyr says," Eilonwy cried. "After what he made us do, he has no right to blame
anyone for anything."
"And yet," Taran said softly, almost to himself, "he spoke the truth."
"Did he?" said Eilonwy. "It was only too true, for his own honor he would have slain us all."
"We managed to escape from him," Fflewddur continued. "That is, he finally stopped pursuing us. When
we came back, the horses, the Crochan, and Ellidyr were gone. After that we followed down the river
looking for you. You hadn't gone far. But I'm still amazed that anyone can swallow so much water in such
a short distance."
"We must find him!" Taran cried. "We dare not let him keep the Crochan! You should have left me and
gone after him." He tried to climb to his feet. "Come now, there is no time to lose!"
Fflewddur shook his head. "I'm afraid there's no use in it, as our friend Gwystyl might say. There's not a
sign of him anywhere. We have no idea where he planned to go or what he had in mind to do. He has
too long a start on us. And, though I hate to admit it, I don't believe any one of us, or all of us together,
could do very much against him." The bard glanced at his broken arm. "We're hardly in the best way to
deal with the Crochan or Ellidyr, even if we found them."
Taran stared silently into the fire. "You, too, speak the truth, my friend," he said with great gloom. "You
have all done more than I could ever ask. Alas, much better than I. Yes, it would be useless now to seek
Ellidyr, as useless as our quest has been. We have forfeited all for nothing--- Adaon's brooch, our honor,
and now the Crochan itself. We shall return to Caer Dallben empty-handed. Perhaps Ellidyr was right,"
he murmured. "It is not fitting for a pig-boy to seek the same honor as a prince."
"Pig-boy!" Eilonwy cried indignantly. "Don't ever speak of yourself that way, Taran of Caer Dallben. No
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matter what has happened, you're not a pig-boy; you're an Assistant Pig Keeper! That's honor in itself!
Not that they don't mean the same thing, when you come right down to it," she said, "but one is proud
and the other isn't. Since you have a choice, take the proud one!"
Taran said nothing for a time, then raised his head to Eilonwy. "Adaon once told me there is more honor
in a field well plowed than in a field steeped in blood." As he spoke, his heart seemed to lighten. "I see
now that what he said was true above all. I do not begrudge Ellidyr his prize. I, too, shall seek honor. But
I shall seek it where I know it will be found." [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]