[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
your path, Taran of Caer Dallben," he said. "Wherever it may lead, I promise you my help."
Taran drew back and stood silent a moment, filled with distress and uneasiness. It was not fear touching
his heart, but the wordless sorrow of dry leaves rushing desolate before the wind. Adaon continued to
watch the dance of the flames.
"I shall go to the Marshes of Morva," Taran said.
Adaon nodded. "So it shall be."
No one spoke then. Even Ellidyr made no reply; he bit his lips and fingered the hilt of his sword.
"Well," said Doli at last, "I suppose I might as well go along, too. Do what I can. But it's a mistake, I
warn you."
"Mistake?" cried the jubilant bard. "By no means! I wouldn't be kept away from it!"
"And I certainly won't," declared Eilonwy. "Someone has to make sure there are at least a few of us with
good sense along. Marshes! Ugh! If you insist on making fools of yourselves, I wish you'd picked a drier
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way."
"And Gurgi will help!" shouted Gurgi, springing to his feet. "Yes, yes, with seekings and peekings!"
"Gwystyl," said Doli, with a look of resignation, "you might as well go and fetch that powder you were
talking about."
While Gwystyl eagerly rummaged through the alcove, the dwarf drew a deep breath and flickered out of
sight. He was back after some length of time, fully visible and looking furious, his ears trembling and
rimmed with blue.
"There's five Huntsmen camped over the rise," he said. "They've settled down for the--- oh, my ears---
night. If that powder is any good, we can be well away before they even know we've been here."
The companions dusted their feet and the hooves of their steeds with a black substance Gwystyl
distributed from a moldering sack. He seemed almost gleeful, as Taran untethered Melynlas and led the
horse from behind the screen of brambles.
"Goodbye, goodbye," muttered Gwystyl. "I hate to see you waste your time, not to mention your lives.
But that's the way of it, I suppose. Here today, gone tomorrow, and what's anyone to do about it?
Goodbye. I hope we meet again. But not soon. Goodbye."
With that, the portal shut. Taran took a firmer grip on the bridle of Melynlas and the companions moved
silently into the forest.
Chapter 8
A Stone in the Shoe
OUTSIDE THE WAY POST, night had already fallen; the sky was clear once more, but the chill had
deepened. Adaon and Fflewddur held a hurried council on which path to follow, and agreed the
company should ride westward until dawn, conceal themselves and sleep, then turn due south. As before,
Eilonwy shared Melynlas with Taran, and Gurgi clung to the back of Lluagor.
Fflewddur had offered to lead the way, claiming he had never been lost and could find the Marshes with
his eyes shut; after two harp strings had snapped, he reconsidered and gave up his position to Adaon.
Doli, still muttering angrily about his buzzing ears, rode last, as rear guard, although he flatly refused to
make himself invisible no matter what the circumstances.
Ellidyr had spoken to no one since leaving the melancholy Gwystyl, and Taran had seen the cold rage in
his eyes after the companions' decision to press on to the Marshes of Morva.
"I think he really would have tried to bring back the cauldron by himself," Taran said to Eilonwy. "And
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
you know how much chance he would have had alone. That's the kind of childish thing I'd have done
when I was an Assistant Pig-Keeper."
"You're still an Assistant Pig-Keeper," answered Eilonwy. "You're going to these silly swamps because
of Ellidyr, and anything else you say is pure nonsense. Don't tell me it wouldn't have been wiser to find
Gwydion. But no, you have to decide the other way and drag the rest of us along."
Taran did not reply. Eilonwy's words stung him--- all the more because he had begun to regret his own
decision. Now the companions had set off, doubts tormented him and his heart was heavy. Taran could
not forget the strange tone in Adaon's voice and sought again and again to understand why he had turned
from a choice rightfully his. He jogged Melynlas closer to Adaon and leaned from the saddle.
"I am troubled," he said in a low voice, "and I wonder now if we should not turn back. I fear you have
kept something from me, and had I known what it was, I would have chosen otherwise."
If Adaon shared Taran's doubts, he showed no sign. In the saddle, he rode unbowed, as though he had
gained new strength and the weariness of the journey could no longer touch him. On his face was a look
Taran had never seen before and could not fathom. In it was pride, yet more than that; for it held, as well,
a light that seemed almost joyous.
After a long pause Adaon said, "There is a destiny laid on us to do what we must do, though it is not
always given to us to see it."
"I think you see many things," Taran replied quietly, "many things which you tell no one. It has long been
in my mind," he went on, with much hesitation, "and now more than ever--- the dream you had, the last
night in Caer Dallben. You saw Ellidyr and King Morgant; to me, you foretold I would grieve. But what
did you dream of yourself?"
Adaon smiled. "Is that what troubles you? Very well, I shall tell you. I saw myself in a glade; and though
winter lay all around, it was warm and sunlit. Birds called and flowers sprang up from bare stones."
"Your dream was beautiful," said Eilonwy, "but I can't guess its meaning."
Taran nodded. "Yes, it is beautiful. I feared it had been unhappy and for that reason you chose not to
speak of it."
Adaon said nothing more and Taran fell back into his own thoughts, still finding no reassurance. Melynlas
moved ahead, surefooted despite the darkness. The stallion was able to avoid the loose stones and fallen
branches that lay across the winding path, even without Taran's hands on the reins. His eyes heavy with
fatigue, Taran leaned forward and patted the stallion's powerful neck.
"Follow the way, my friend," Taran murmured. "Surely you know it better than I do."
At daybreak Adaon raised his hand and signaled a halt. Throughout the night they had ridden, as it
seemed to Taran, down a long series of descending slopes. They were still in the Forest of Idris, but here
the ground had leveled a little. Many of the trees were yet covered with leaves; the undergrowth was
thicker; the land less stark than the hills around Dark Gate. Doli, his pony snorting white mist, galloped up
to report no sign of the Huntsmen on their trail.
"How long that sallow mealworm's powder lasts I couldn't guess," said the dwarf. "And I don't think it'll
do us that much good anyway. If Arawn's looking for the cauldron, he's going to look hard and close.
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The Huntsmen must know we've come in this general direction. If enough of them keep after us, sooner
or later they're bound to find us. That Gwystyl--- for all the help he's been! Humph! And his crow, too.
Humph! I wish we hadn't run into either of them." [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
zanotowane.pl doc.pisz.pl pdf.pisz.pl rafalstec.xlx.pl
your path, Taran of Caer Dallben," he said. "Wherever it may lead, I promise you my help."
Taran drew back and stood silent a moment, filled with distress and uneasiness. It was not fear touching
his heart, but the wordless sorrow of dry leaves rushing desolate before the wind. Adaon continued to
watch the dance of the flames.
"I shall go to the Marshes of Morva," Taran said.
Adaon nodded. "So it shall be."
No one spoke then. Even Ellidyr made no reply; he bit his lips and fingered the hilt of his sword.
"Well," said Doli at last, "I suppose I might as well go along, too. Do what I can. But it's a mistake, I
warn you."
"Mistake?" cried the jubilant bard. "By no means! I wouldn't be kept away from it!"
"And I certainly won't," declared Eilonwy. "Someone has to make sure there are at least a few of us with
good sense along. Marshes! Ugh! If you insist on making fools of yourselves, I wish you'd picked a drier
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
way."
"And Gurgi will help!" shouted Gurgi, springing to his feet. "Yes, yes, with seekings and peekings!"
"Gwystyl," said Doli, with a look of resignation, "you might as well go and fetch that powder you were
talking about."
While Gwystyl eagerly rummaged through the alcove, the dwarf drew a deep breath and flickered out of
sight. He was back after some length of time, fully visible and looking furious, his ears trembling and
rimmed with blue.
"There's five Huntsmen camped over the rise," he said. "They've settled down for the--- oh, my ears---
night. If that powder is any good, we can be well away before they even know we've been here."
The companions dusted their feet and the hooves of their steeds with a black substance Gwystyl
distributed from a moldering sack. He seemed almost gleeful, as Taran untethered Melynlas and led the
horse from behind the screen of brambles.
"Goodbye, goodbye," muttered Gwystyl. "I hate to see you waste your time, not to mention your lives.
But that's the way of it, I suppose. Here today, gone tomorrow, and what's anyone to do about it?
Goodbye. I hope we meet again. But not soon. Goodbye."
With that, the portal shut. Taran took a firmer grip on the bridle of Melynlas and the companions moved
silently into the forest.
Chapter 8
A Stone in the Shoe
OUTSIDE THE WAY POST, night had already fallen; the sky was clear once more, but the chill had
deepened. Adaon and Fflewddur held a hurried council on which path to follow, and agreed the
company should ride westward until dawn, conceal themselves and sleep, then turn due south. As before,
Eilonwy shared Melynlas with Taran, and Gurgi clung to the back of Lluagor.
Fflewddur had offered to lead the way, claiming he had never been lost and could find the Marshes with
his eyes shut; after two harp strings had snapped, he reconsidered and gave up his position to Adaon.
Doli, still muttering angrily about his buzzing ears, rode last, as rear guard, although he flatly refused to
make himself invisible no matter what the circumstances.
Ellidyr had spoken to no one since leaving the melancholy Gwystyl, and Taran had seen the cold rage in
his eyes after the companions' decision to press on to the Marshes of Morva.
"I think he really would have tried to bring back the cauldron by himself," Taran said to Eilonwy. "And
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
you know how much chance he would have had alone. That's the kind of childish thing I'd have done
when I was an Assistant Pig-Keeper."
"You're still an Assistant Pig-Keeper," answered Eilonwy. "You're going to these silly swamps because
of Ellidyr, and anything else you say is pure nonsense. Don't tell me it wouldn't have been wiser to find
Gwydion. But no, you have to decide the other way and drag the rest of us along."
Taran did not reply. Eilonwy's words stung him--- all the more because he had begun to regret his own
decision. Now the companions had set off, doubts tormented him and his heart was heavy. Taran could
not forget the strange tone in Adaon's voice and sought again and again to understand why he had turned
from a choice rightfully his. He jogged Melynlas closer to Adaon and leaned from the saddle.
"I am troubled," he said in a low voice, "and I wonder now if we should not turn back. I fear you have
kept something from me, and had I known what it was, I would have chosen otherwise."
If Adaon shared Taran's doubts, he showed no sign. In the saddle, he rode unbowed, as though he had
gained new strength and the weariness of the journey could no longer touch him. On his face was a look
Taran had never seen before and could not fathom. In it was pride, yet more than that; for it held, as well,
a light that seemed almost joyous.
After a long pause Adaon said, "There is a destiny laid on us to do what we must do, though it is not
always given to us to see it."
"I think you see many things," Taran replied quietly, "many things which you tell no one. It has long been
in my mind," he went on, with much hesitation, "and now more than ever--- the dream you had, the last
night in Caer Dallben. You saw Ellidyr and King Morgant; to me, you foretold I would grieve. But what
did you dream of yourself?"
Adaon smiled. "Is that what troubles you? Very well, I shall tell you. I saw myself in a glade; and though
winter lay all around, it was warm and sunlit. Birds called and flowers sprang up from bare stones."
"Your dream was beautiful," said Eilonwy, "but I can't guess its meaning."
Taran nodded. "Yes, it is beautiful. I feared it had been unhappy and for that reason you chose not to
speak of it."
Adaon said nothing more and Taran fell back into his own thoughts, still finding no reassurance. Melynlas
moved ahead, surefooted despite the darkness. The stallion was able to avoid the loose stones and fallen
branches that lay across the winding path, even without Taran's hands on the reins. His eyes heavy with
fatigue, Taran leaned forward and patted the stallion's powerful neck.
"Follow the way, my friend," Taran murmured. "Surely you know it better than I do."
At daybreak Adaon raised his hand and signaled a halt. Throughout the night they had ridden, as it
seemed to Taran, down a long series of descending slopes. They were still in the Forest of Idris, but here
the ground had leveled a little. Many of the trees were yet covered with leaves; the undergrowth was
thicker; the land less stark than the hills around Dark Gate. Doli, his pony snorting white mist, galloped up
to report no sign of the Huntsmen on their trail.
"How long that sallow mealworm's powder lasts I couldn't guess," said the dwarf. "And I don't think it'll
do us that much good anyway. If Arawn's looking for the cauldron, he's going to look hard and close.
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
The Huntsmen must know we've come in this general direction. If enough of them keep after us, sooner
or later they're bound to find us. That Gwystyl--- for all the help he's been! Humph! And his crow, too.
Humph! I wish we hadn't run into either of them." [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]