Read Online The Castle of Llyr by Lloyd Alexander - Free Book Online Page B

first time she’s been lucky enough to have four dinners ready and waiting in her lair.” He sighed and shook his head. “In my own realm I was always putting out scraps for birds and other creatures, but I never thought I’d see the day when I’d be putting myself out, if you take my meaning.”
    At last, Llyan settled herself across the doorway. She moistened a huge paw with her tongue and began passing it over her ear. Engrossed in her task, she seemed to have forgotten the companions were there. Despite his fear, Taran could not help staring at her in fascination. Power filled even Llyan’s gentlest movements; beneath the golden fur, glowing in the sunlight from the open door, he could guess at her mighty muscles. Llyan, he was certain, could be swift as Melynlas. But he knew also she could be deadly; and, though she did not appear ill-disposed toward the companions, her mood might change at any instant. Taran cast about desperately for a way to freedom, or at least a means of regaining their weapons.
    â€œFflewddur,” he whispered, “make a little noise, not too much but enough so that Llyan will look at you.”
    â€œHow’s that?” asked the bard, puzzled. “Look at me? She’ll do
that soon enough. I’m thankful she hasn’t yet got around to it.” However, he scraped his boots across the floor. Llyan immediately pricked up her ears and turned her eyes on the bard.
    Crouching, Taran moved silently toward Llyan, his hand outstretched. His fingers cautiously reached for his sword which lay close to Llyan’s paws. Quick as lightning, the mountain cat struck at him and he fell back. Had her claws been unsheathed, Taran realized with a sinking feeling, Llyan would have gained his head in addition to his weapon.
    â€œNo chance, my friend,” said Fflewddur. “She’s faster than any of us.”
    â€œWe can be hindered no longer!” Taran cried. “Time is precious!”
    â€œOh, indeed it is,” the bard answered, “and gets more precious the less of it we have. I’m beginning to envy Princess Eilonwy. Magg may be a foul, villainous spider and all such as that, but when it comes to teeth and claws—I should vastly prefer going against him instead of Llyan. No, no,” he sighed, “I’m quite content to stretch my last moments as far as they’ll reach.”
    Taran in despair pressed his hands against his forehead. “Prince Rhun,” he called softly after a moment, as Llyan began passing a paw over her whiskers, “stand up quietly. See if you can make your way to that broken corner of the hut. If so, climb out and run for your life.”
    The Prince of Mona nodded, but no sooner had he risen to his feet than Llyan growled a warning. Prince Rhun blinked and quickly sat down again. Llyan glared at the companions.
    â€œGreat Belin!” whispered Fflewddur. “Don’t rouse her up any more. It will only bring on her appetite. She’s not going to let us out of here, that’s one thing sure.”

    â€œBut we must escape,” Taran urged. “What if we all rushed upon her at once? One of us at least might get past.”
    Fflewddur shook his head. “After she’d settled with the rest of us,” he answered, “she’d have no trouble catching up with that lone survivor. Let me think, let me think.” Frowning, he reached behind him and unslung his harp. Llyan, still growling, watched intently, but made no further move.
    â€œIt always calms me,” explained Fflewddur, putting the instrument against his shoulder and passing his hands over the harp strings. “I don’t know whether it will stir up any ideas; but when I’m playing, at least things don’t seem quite so dismal.”
    As a soft melody rose from the harp, Llyan began making a peculiar noise. “Great Belin,” cried Fflewddur, stopping immediately, “I almost forgot