Read Online The Black Cauldron (The Chronicles of Prydain) by Lloyd Alexander - Free Book Online
Authors: Lloyd Alexander
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tell us!” cried Taran. “Please,” he added, lowering his voice, for the wretched Gwystyl had begun to shake violently, his eyes turning up as though he were about to have a fit. “Do not keep your knowledge from us. If you stay silent, our lives are risked for no purpose.
“Leave it alone,” Gwystyl choked, fanning himself with an edge of his robe. “Don’t bother with it. Forget it. That’s the best thing
you can do. Go back wherever you came from. Don’t even think about it.”
“How can we do that?” Taran cried. “Arawn won’t rest until he has the cauldron again.”
“Of course he won’t rest,” Gwystyl said. “He isn’t resting now. That’s exactly why you should drop the search and go quietly. You’ll only stir up more trouble. And there’s enough of that already.”
“Then we’d better get back to Caer Cadarn and join Gwydion as quickly as we can,” Eilonwy said.
“Yes, yes, by all means,” broke in Gwystyl, with the first trace of eagerness Taran had glimpsed in this strange individual. “I only give you this advice for your own good. I’m glad, very glad, you’ve seen fit to follow it. Now, of course,” he added, almost brightly, “you’ll want to be on your way. Very wise of you. I, unhappily, have to stay here. I envy you, I really do. But—that’s the way of it, and there’s little anyone can do. A pleasure meeting you all. Good-bye.”
“Good-bye?” cried Eilonwy. “If we put our noses above ground and the Huntsmen are waiting for us—yes, it will be good-bye indeed! Doli says it’s your duty to help us. And with that, you haven’t done a thing. Except sigh and moan! If this is the best the Fair Folk can manage, why, I’d rather be up a tree with my toes tied together!”
Gwystyl clutched his head again. “Please, please, don’t shout. I’m not up to shouting today. Not after the horses. One of you can go and see if the Huntsmen are still there. Not that it will really do any good, for they might have just stepped away for a moment.”
“I wonder who’ll do that?” muttered the dwarf. “Good old Doli, of course. I thought I’d done with making myself invisible.”
“I could give all of you a little something,” Gwystyl went on, “not that it will do much good. It’s a kind of powder I’ve put by in case of need. I was saving it for emergencies.”
“What do you call this, you clot!” Doli growled.
“Yes, well, I meant, ah, more for personal emergencies,” Gwystyl explained, paling. “But it doesn’t matter about me. You can have it. Take all of it, go ahead.
“You put it on your feet, or whatever you walk on—I mean hooves and so forth,” Gwystyl added. “It doesn’t work too well, hardly much sense in bothering. Because it wears off. Naturally, if you’re walking on it, it would do that. However, it will hide your tracks for a while.”
“That’s what we need,” said Taran. “Once we throw the Huntsmen off our trail, I think we can outrun them.”
“I’ll get some,” Gwystyl said with eagerness. “It won’t take a moment.”
As he made to leave the chamber, however, Doli took him by the arm. “Gwystyl,” said the dwarf severely, “you have a skulking, sneaking look in your eyes. You might hoodwink my friends. But don’t forget you’re also dealing with one of the Fair Folk. I have a feeling,” Doli added, tightening his grip, “you’re far too anxious to see us gone. I’m beginning to wonder, if I squeezed you a little, what more might come out.”
At this, Gwystyl rolled up his eyes and fainted away. The dwarf had to haul him upright, while Taran and the others fanned him.
At length Gwystyl opened one eye. “Sorry,” he gasped. “Not myself today. Too bad about the cauldron. One of those unfortunate things.”
The crow, who had been watching all this activity, turned a beady glance on his owner and flapped his wings with such vigor that Gurgi roused himself in alarm.
“Orddu!” Kaw
“Leave it alone,” Gwystyl choked, fanning himself with an edge of his robe. “Don’t bother with it. Forget it. That’s the best thing
you can do. Go back wherever you came from. Don’t even think about it.”
“How can we do that?” Taran cried. “Arawn won’t rest until he has the cauldron again.”
“Of course he won’t rest,” Gwystyl said. “He isn’t resting now. That’s exactly why you should drop the search and go quietly. You’ll only stir up more trouble. And there’s enough of that already.”
“Then we’d better get back to Caer Cadarn and join Gwydion as quickly as we can,” Eilonwy said.
“Yes, yes, by all means,” broke in Gwystyl, with the first trace of eagerness Taran had glimpsed in this strange individual. “I only give you this advice for your own good. I’m glad, very glad, you’ve seen fit to follow it. Now, of course,” he added, almost brightly, “you’ll want to be on your way. Very wise of you. I, unhappily, have to stay here. I envy you, I really do. But—that’s the way of it, and there’s little anyone can do. A pleasure meeting you all. Good-bye.”
“Good-bye?” cried Eilonwy. “If we put our noses above ground and the Huntsmen are waiting for us—yes, it will be good-bye indeed! Doli says it’s your duty to help us. And with that, you haven’t done a thing. Except sigh and moan! If this is the best the Fair Folk can manage, why, I’d rather be up a tree with my toes tied together!”
Gwystyl clutched his head again. “Please, please, don’t shout. I’m not up to shouting today. Not after the horses. One of you can go and see if the Huntsmen are still there. Not that it will really do any good, for they might have just stepped away for a moment.”
“I wonder who’ll do that?” muttered the dwarf. “Good old Doli, of course. I thought I’d done with making myself invisible.”
“I could give all of you a little something,” Gwystyl went on, “not that it will do much good. It’s a kind of powder I’ve put by in case of need. I was saving it for emergencies.”
“What do you call this, you clot!” Doli growled.
“Yes, well, I meant, ah, more for personal emergencies,” Gwystyl explained, paling. “But it doesn’t matter about me. You can have it. Take all of it, go ahead.
“You put it on your feet, or whatever you walk on—I mean hooves and so forth,” Gwystyl added. “It doesn’t work too well, hardly much sense in bothering. Because it wears off. Naturally, if you’re walking on it, it would do that. However, it will hide your tracks for a while.”
“That’s what we need,” said Taran. “Once we throw the Huntsmen off our trail, I think we can outrun them.”
“I’ll get some,” Gwystyl said with eagerness. “It won’t take a moment.”
As he made to leave the chamber, however, Doli took him by the arm. “Gwystyl,” said the dwarf severely, “you have a skulking, sneaking look in your eyes. You might hoodwink my friends. But don’t forget you’re also dealing with one of the Fair Folk. I have a feeling,” Doli added, tightening his grip, “you’re far too anxious to see us gone. I’m beginning to wonder, if I squeezed you a little, what more might come out.”
At this, Gwystyl rolled up his eyes and fainted away. The dwarf had to haul him upright, while Taran and the others fanned him.
At length Gwystyl opened one eye. “Sorry,” he gasped. “Not myself today. Too bad about the cauldron. One of those unfortunate things.”
The crow, who had been watching all this activity, turned a beady glance on his owner and flapped his wings with such vigor that Gurgi roused himself in alarm.
“Orddu!” Kaw
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