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Authors: Lloyd Alexander
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I couldn't get back? You'd turn into a skeleton while you're waiting--- I don't know how long it takes for people to turn into skeletons, though I imagine it would need some time--- and you'd be worse off than before.”
“What else am I to do?” cried Taran. Eilonwy's talk of skeletons made his blood run cold. He recalled, then, the sound of Gwyn the Hunter's horn and the memory of it filled him with grief and fear. He bowed his head and turned his face to the rough wall.
“That's very noble of you,” said Eilonwy, “but I don't think it's really necessary, not yet, at any rate. If Achren's warriors come out and start beating the woods, I hardly think your friend would stay around waiting. He'd go and hide and find you later, or so I should imagine. That would be the sensible thing to do. Of course, if he's an Assistant Pig-Keeper, too, it's hard to guess how his mind would work.”
“He's not an Assistant Pig-Keeper,” Taran said. “He's... well, it's none of your business what he is.”
“That's not a very polite thing to say. Well, nevertheless...” Eilonwy's voice dismissed the matter. “The main thing is to get you out.”
“There's nothing we can do,” Taran said. “I'm caught here, and locked up better than Achren ever planned.”
“Don't say that. I could tear up my robe and plait it into a cord--- though I'll tell you right away I wouldn't enjoy crawling around tunnels without any clothes on. But I don't think it would be long enough or strong enough. I suppose I could cut off my hair, if I had a pair of shears, and add it in--- no, that still wouldn't do. Won't you please be quiet for a while and let me think? Wait, I'm going to drop my bauble down to you. Here, catch!”
The golden sphere came hurtling over the ledge. Taran caught it in mid-air.
“Now then,” Eilonwy called, “what's down there? Is it just a pit of some kind?”
Taran raised the ball above his head. “Why, it's not a hole at all!” he cried. “It's a kind of chamber. There's a tunnel here, too.” He took a few paces. “I can't see where it ends. It's big...”
Stones rattled behind him; an instant later, Eilonwy dropped to the ground. Taran stared at her in disbelief.
“You fool!” he shouted. “You addlepated . . . What have you done? Now both of us are trapped! And you talk about sense! You haven't...”
Eilonwy smiled at him and waited until he ran out of breath. “Now,” she said, “if you've quite finished, let me explain something very simple to you. If there's a tunnel, it has to go some place. And wherever it goes, there's a very good chance it will be better than where we are now.”
“I didn't mean to call you names,” Taran said, “but,” he added sorrowfully, “there was no reason for you to put yourself in danger.”
“There you go again,” Eilonwy said. “I promised to help you escape and that's what I'm doing. I understand about tunnels and I shouldn't be surprised if this one followed the same direction as the one above. It doesn't have half as many galleries coming off it. And besides, it's a lot more comfortable.”
Eilonwy took the glowing sphere from Taran's hand and stepped forward into the new passageway. Still doubtful, Taran followed.
Chapter 8
The Barrow
AS EILONWY HAD SAID
, the passageway was more comfortable, for they could walk side by side without crouching and scuttling like rabbits in a warren. Unlike those of the upper galleries, the walls were lined with huge, flat stones; the ceiling was formed of even larger stones, whose weight was supported by upright slabs set at intervals along the square corridor. The air, too, smelled slightly better; musty, as if it had lain unstirred for ages, but without the choking closeness of the tunnels. None of this comforted Taran greatly. Eilonwy herself admitted she had never explored the passage; her blithe confidence did not convince him she had the slightest notion of where she was going.
“What else am I to do?” cried Taran. Eilonwy's talk of skeletons made his blood run cold. He recalled, then, the sound of Gwyn the Hunter's horn and the memory of it filled him with grief and fear. He bowed his head and turned his face to the rough wall.
“That's very noble of you,” said Eilonwy, “but I don't think it's really necessary, not yet, at any rate. If Achren's warriors come out and start beating the woods, I hardly think your friend would stay around waiting. He'd go and hide and find you later, or so I should imagine. That would be the sensible thing to do. Of course, if he's an Assistant Pig-Keeper, too, it's hard to guess how his mind would work.”
“He's not an Assistant Pig-Keeper,” Taran said. “He's... well, it's none of your business what he is.”
“That's not a very polite thing to say. Well, nevertheless...” Eilonwy's voice dismissed the matter. “The main thing is to get you out.”
“There's nothing we can do,” Taran said. “I'm caught here, and locked up better than Achren ever planned.”
“Don't say that. I could tear up my robe and plait it into a cord--- though I'll tell you right away I wouldn't enjoy crawling around tunnels without any clothes on. But I don't think it would be long enough or strong enough. I suppose I could cut off my hair, if I had a pair of shears, and add it in--- no, that still wouldn't do. Won't you please be quiet for a while and let me think? Wait, I'm going to drop my bauble down to you. Here, catch!”
The golden sphere came hurtling over the ledge. Taran caught it in mid-air.
“Now then,” Eilonwy called, “what's down there? Is it just a pit of some kind?”
Taran raised the ball above his head. “Why, it's not a hole at all!” he cried. “It's a kind of chamber. There's a tunnel here, too.” He took a few paces. “I can't see where it ends. It's big...”
Stones rattled behind him; an instant later, Eilonwy dropped to the ground. Taran stared at her in disbelief.
“You fool!” he shouted. “You addlepated . . . What have you done? Now both of us are trapped! And you talk about sense! You haven't...”
Eilonwy smiled at him and waited until he ran out of breath. “Now,” she said, “if you've quite finished, let me explain something very simple to you. If there's a tunnel, it has to go some place. And wherever it goes, there's a very good chance it will be better than where we are now.”
“I didn't mean to call you names,” Taran said, “but,” he added sorrowfully, “there was no reason for you to put yourself in danger.”
“There you go again,” Eilonwy said. “I promised to help you escape and that's what I'm doing. I understand about tunnels and I shouldn't be surprised if this one followed the same direction as the one above. It doesn't have half as many galleries coming off it. And besides, it's a lot more comfortable.”
Eilonwy took the glowing sphere from Taran's hand and stepped forward into the new passageway. Still doubtful, Taran followed.
Chapter 8
The Barrow
AS EILONWY HAD SAID
, the passageway was more comfortable, for they could walk side by side without crouching and scuttling like rabbits in a warren. Unlike those of the upper galleries, the walls were lined with huge, flat stones; the ceiling was formed of even larger stones, whose weight was supported by upright slabs set at intervals along the square corridor. The air, too, smelled slightly better; musty, as if it had lain unstirred for ages, but without the choking closeness of the tunnels. None of this comforted Taran greatly. Eilonwy herself admitted she had never explored the passage; her blithe confidence did not convince him she had the slightest notion of where she was going.
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