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went to Ellidyr's side. The horse whinnied and rolled her eyes as he approached.
"She has gone lame," Taran said. "Unless we can help her, I fear she will not be able to hold the pace."
"I need no pig-boy to tell me that," answered Ellidyr. He bent and examined the mare's hoof with a
gentleness of touch which surprised Taran.
"If you lightened her burden," Taran suggested, "it might ease her for a while. Fflewddur can take you up
behind him."
Ellidyr straightened, his eyes black and bitter. "Do not give me council on my own steed. Islimach can go
on. And so she will."
Nevertheless, as Ellidyr turned away, Taran saw his face fill with lines of worry. "Let me look at her,"
Taran said. "Perhaps I can find the trouble." He knelt and reached toward Islimach's foreleg.
"Do not touch her," cried Ellidyr. "She will not abide a stranger's hands."
Islimach reared and bared her teeth. Ellidyr laughed scornfully. "Learn for yourself, pig-boy," he said.
"Her hooves are sharp as knives, as you shall see."
Taran rose and grasped Islimach's bridle. For a moment, as the horse lunged, he feared she would
indeed trample him. Islimach's eyes were round with terror; she whickered and struck out at him. A hoof
glanced against his shoulder, but Taran did not loosen his hold. He reached up and put a hand to
Islimach's long, bony head. The mare shuddered, but Taran spoke quietly and soothingly to her. She
tossed her mane, the straining muscles relaxed; the reins went loose and she made no attempt to draw
away.
Without stopping the flow of reassuring words, Taran raised her hoof. As he had suspected, there was a
small, jagged stone wedged far back behind the shoe. He drew his knife. Islimach trembled, but Taran
worked quickly and deftly. The stone came free and fell to the ground.
"This has happened even to Melynlas," Taran explained, patting the roan's flank. "There's a place deep in
the hoof anyone can miss it if they don't know. It was Coll who showed me how to find it."
Ellidyr's face was livid. "You have tried to steal honor from me, pig-boy," he said through clenched teeth.
"Will you now rob me of my horse?"
Taran had expected no thanks, but the angry thrust of Ellidyr's words took him aback. Ellidyr's hand
was on his sword. Taran felt a surge of answering anger, a flush rising to his cheeks, but he turned away.
"Your honor is your own," Taran answered coldly, "and so is your steed. What stone is in your shoe,
Prince of Pen Llarcau?"
He strode to his companions, who had taken cover in the tangle of brush. Gurgi had already opened the
wallet and was proudly distributing its contents. "Yes, yes!" Gurgi cried gleefully, "crunchings and
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munchings for all! Thanks to generous, kindhearted Gurgi! He will not let brave warriors suffer bellies
filled only with howlings and growlings!"
Ellidyr remained behind, patting Islimach's neck and murmuring in the roan's ear. Since he made no
move to join the companions at their meal, Taran called out to him. But the Prince of Pen-Llarcau only
gave him a bitter glance and remained with Islimach.
"That foul-tempered nag is the only thing he cares about," muttered the bard, "and as far as I can see, the
only thing that cares about him. They're two of a kind, if you ask me."
Adaon, sitting a little apart from the others, called Taran to him. "I commend your patience," he said.
"The black beast spurs Ellidyr cruelly."
"I think he'll feel better once we find the cauldron," Taran said. "There will be glory enough for all to
share."
Adaon smiled gravely. "Is there not glory enough in living the days given to us? You should know there is
adventure in simply being among those we love and the things we love, and beauty, too.
"But I would speak to you of another matter," Adaon went on. His handsome face, usually tranquil, was
clouded. "I have few possessions, for I count them of little importance. But these few I treasure: Lluagor,
my packets of healing herbs, and this," he said, touching the clasp at his throat, "the brooch I wear, a
precious gift from Arianllyn, my betrothed. Should any ill befall me, they are yours. I have watched you
closely, Taran of Caer Dallben. In all my journeys I have met no one else to whom I would rather entrust
them."
"Do not speak of ill befalling you," Taran cried. "We are companions and protect one another against
dangers. Besides, Adaon, your friendship is gift enough for me."
"Nevertheless," Adaon replied, "we cannot know all the future holds. Will you accept them?"
Taran nodded.
"It is well," Adaon said. "Now my heart is lighter."
After the meal it was decided they would rest until midday. Ellidyr made no comment when Adaon
ordered him to stand the first watch. Taran rolled up in his cloak under the protection of a bush.
Exhausted by the journey, and by his own doubts and fears, he slept heavily.
The sun was high when he opened his eyes. He sat up with a start, realizing his turn at guard had almost
passed. Around him, the companions still slept.
"Ellidyr," he called, "why didn't you wake me?" He rose hurriedly to his feet. There was no sign of Ellidyr
or Islimach.
Taran hastily roused the others. He ran a little distance into the trees, then circled back. "He's gone!"
Taran cried. "He's gone after the cauldron alone. He said he would and now he's done it!"
"Stolen a march on us, has he?" grumbled Doli. "Well, we'll catch up to him, and if we don't--- that's his
concern. He doesn't know where he's going and, for the matter of that, neither do we."
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"Good riddance to him," said Fflewddur. "If we have any kind of luck at all, we may not see him again."
For the first time Taran saw deep alarm in Adaon's face. "We must overtake him quickly," Adaon said.
"Ellidyr's pride and ambition swallow him up. I fear to think what might happen should the cauldron come
into his hands."
They set off with all possible haste. Adaon soon found Ellidyr's trail leading southward. "I was hoping he
might have got disgusted with the whole business and gone home," said Fflewddur, "but there's no doubt
of it, he's heading for Morva."
Despite their speed, the companions saw no sign of Ellidyr himself. They pressed on, urging the last
strength from the laboring horses, until they were obliged to halt for breath. A cold wind had risen,
swirling the leaves in great circles above their heads.
"I do not know if we can overtake him," Adaon said. "He rides as swiftly as we, and he is nearly a
quarter day's journey ahead of us."
His heart pounding, Taran flung himself from Melynlas and slumped to the ground. He cradled his head
in his hands. From a distance came the shrill call of a bird, the first birdsong he had heard since leaving
Caer Dallben.
"That is not the true speech of a bird," Adaon cried, springing to his feet. "The Huntsmen have found us."
Without awaiting Adaon's order, the dwarf raced in the direction of the Huntsmen's signal. As Taran
watched, Doli vanished before his eyes. Adaon drew his sword. "This time we must stand against them," [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]