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Llyan nuzzled her whiskers on his neck and gripped the bard with her powerful paws, "perhaps I should
put it the other way around."
"What of Eilonwy, of Gwydion?" Taran pressed.
The bard's glance fell. "Yes, well," he murmured, "they're here. Gwydion has done all he can."
With mounting anxiety Taran rose unsteadily to his feet. In the lee of a tumble of rock Gwydion knelt
beside two forms. Taran stumbled across the beach. Gwydion looked up at him, his face filled with
concern.
"Eilonwy lives," he said, answering the question in Taran's eyes. "More than that I cannot say. This much
I know: Achren no longer holds her."
"Achren--- Achren is dead, then?" Taran asked. He stared at the black-shrouded figure.
"Achren, too, lives," answered Gwydion, "though long she hung between life and death. But her power is
broken now. This is the answer to the riddle, yet I did not know it until I stood before her in the Great
Hall. At first, I was not certain. When l understood that she would truly let herself go down to death
before giving up Eilonwy, I knew she had lost command of all but the least of her own enchantments. I
read it in her eyes and in her voice. Her day had begun to wane from the moment she had broken with
the Lord of Annuvin.
"The spells of Caer Colur were her last hope. Now they are gone and Caer Colur lies at the bottom of
the sea," Gwydion added. "We need fear Achren no longer."
"I fear her still," Taran said, "and I shall not forget Caer Colur. Achren spoke the truth to me," he went
on quietly. "I had not the strength to listen to her any longer. I feared I would tell the hiding place of the
Pelydryn--- and hoped you would slay me before I did. Yet," Taran added, puzzled, "it was you ,
yourself who spoke."
"It was a risk that had to be taken," Gwydion replied. "I had suspected something of the nature of the
bauble; as it alone could reveal the spells, so it alone could destroy them. Only then could Eilonwy be
free. At what cost to herself, I could not be sure. Alas, she has suffered deeply and grievously, perhaps
too much."
"Dare we waken her?" Taran whispered.
"Touch her not," said Gwydion. "She must waken of herself. We can only wait and hope."
Taran bowed his head. "I would have given my life to keep her from harm, and I would give it now to
spare her this." He smiled bitterly. "Achren asked what shall be the lot of an Assistant Pig-Keeper? It is a
question I have often asked myself. I see now the life of an Assistant Pig-Keeper is of little use or import.
Even to offer it for someone else is of no avail."
"Prince Rhun would gainsay you," Gwydion answered. "Without you, he would have wandered lost and
in mortal danger."
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"I swore an oath to King Rhuddlum," Taran replied. "I did not break it."
"And had you not sworn an oath," Gwydion asked, "would you not have done the same?"
Taran was silent for a while, then he nodded. "Yes, I believe I would. It was more than my oath that
bound me. He needed my help, as I needed his." He turned to Gwydion. "I remember, too, when a
Prince of Don aided a foolish Assistant Pig-Keeper. Is it not fitting now for the Pig-Keeper to aid a
Prince?"
"Whether it be Prince or Pig-Keeper," said Gwydion, "such is the way of a man. The destinies of men
are woven one with the other, and you can turn aside from them no more than you can turn aside from
your own."
"And you, Lord Gwydion," came Achren's voice, "you have put a cruel destiny upon me."
The black-cloaked figure had risen. Achren clung to the rocks to bear herself up. Her face, half-hooded,
was drawn and haggard and her lips were pale. "Death would have been a kindness. Why did you deny
it to me?"
Taran shrank back as the once-haughty Queen raised her head. For an instant he saw her eyes flame
again with pride and fury.
"You have destroyed me, Gwydion," she cried. "Do you hope to see me grovel at your feet? Are my
powers indeed stripped away?" Achren laughed harshly. "One last remains to me."
It was then Taran saw she held a weathered branch of driftwood. She lifted it high and Taran gasped as
in her hands it blurred and shimmered. Suddenly in its place was a dagger.
With a shout of triumph Achren plunged it toward her own breast. Gwydion sprang to her and seized
her wrists. Achren fought against him as he tore the blade from her grasp. Once more the dagger became [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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Llyan nuzzled her whiskers on his neck and gripped the bard with her powerful paws, "perhaps I should
put it the other way around."
"What of Eilonwy, of Gwydion?" Taran pressed.
The bard's glance fell. "Yes, well," he murmured, "they're here. Gwydion has done all he can."
With mounting anxiety Taran rose unsteadily to his feet. In the lee of a tumble of rock Gwydion knelt
beside two forms. Taran stumbled across the beach. Gwydion looked up at him, his face filled with
concern.
"Eilonwy lives," he said, answering the question in Taran's eyes. "More than that I cannot say. This much
I know: Achren no longer holds her."
"Achren--- Achren is dead, then?" Taran asked. He stared at the black-shrouded figure.
"Achren, too, lives," answered Gwydion, "though long she hung between life and death. But her power is
broken now. This is the answer to the riddle, yet I did not know it until I stood before her in the Great
Hall. At first, I was not certain. When l understood that she would truly let herself go down to death
before giving up Eilonwy, I knew she had lost command of all but the least of her own enchantments. I
read it in her eyes and in her voice. Her day had begun to wane from the moment she had broken with
the Lord of Annuvin.
"The spells of Caer Colur were her last hope. Now they are gone and Caer Colur lies at the bottom of
the sea," Gwydion added. "We need fear Achren no longer."
"I fear her still," Taran said, "and I shall not forget Caer Colur. Achren spoke the truth to me," he went
on quietly. "I had not the strength to listen to her any longer. I feared I would tell the hiding place of the
Pelydryn--- and hoped you would slay me before I did. Yet," Taran added, puzzled, "it was you ,
yourself who spoke."
"It was a risk that had to be taken," Gwydion replied. "I had suspected something of the nature of the
bauble; as it alone could reveal the spells, so it alone could destroy them. Only then could Eilonwy be
free. At what cost to herself, I could not be sure. Alas, she has suffered deeply and grievously, perhaps
too much."
"Dare we waken her?" Taran whispered.
"Touch her not," said Gwydion. "She must waken of herself. We can only wait and hope."
Taran bowed his head. "I would have given my life to keep her from harm, and I would give it now to
spare her this." He smiled bitterly. "Achren asked what shall be the lot of an Assistant Pig-Keeper? It is a
question I have often asked myself. I see now the life of an Assistant Pig-Keeper is of little use or import.
Even to offer it for someone else is of no avail."
"Prince Rhun would gainsay you," Gwydion answered. "Without you, he would have wandered lost and
in mortal danger."
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
"I swore an oath to King Rhuddlum," Taran replied. "I did not break it."
"And had you not sworn an oath," Gwydion asked, "would you not have done the same?"
Taran was silent for a while, then he nodded. "Yes, I believe I would. It was more than my oath that
bound me. He needed my help, as I needed his." He turned to Gwydion. "I remember, too, when a
Prince of Don aided a foolish Assistant Pig-Keeper. Is it not fitting now for the Pig-Keeper to aid a
Prince?"
"Whether it be Prince or Pig-Keeper," said Gwydion, "such is the way of a man. The destinies of men
are woven one with the other, and you can turn aside from them no more than you can turn aside from
your own."
"And you, Lord Gwydion," came Achren's voice, "you have put a cruel destiny upon me."
The black-cloaked figure had risen. Achren clung to the rocks to bear herself up. Her face, half-hooded,
was drawn and haggard and her lips were pale. "Death would have been a kindness. Why did you deny
it to me?"
Taran shrank back as the once-haughty Queen raised her head. For an instant he saw her eyes flame
again with pride and fury.
"You have destroyed me, Gwydion," she cried. "Do you hope to see me grovel at your feet? Are my
powers indeed stripped away?" Achren laughed harshly. "One last remains to me."
It was then Taran saw she held a weathered branch of driftwood. She lifted it high and Taran gasped as
in her hands it blurred and shimmered. Suddenly in its place was a dagger.
With a shout of triumph Achren plunged it toward her own breast. Gwydion sprang to her and seized
her wrists. Achren fought against him as he tore the blade from her grasp. Once more the dagger became [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]