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Stubborn? I'm too soft! It will be the death of me! But little you care!"
At that moment the door of the throne room burst open again. Two
dwarf warriors clung frantically to Gurgi, who swung them about as if they
were rabbits.
"Joyous greetings! Faithful Gurgi is back with mighty heroes! This
time valiant Gurgi did not run! Oh, no, no! Brave Gurgi fought with great
whackings and smackings. He triumphed! But then, mighty lords are carried
away. Clever Gurgi goes seeking and peeking to save them, yes! And he finds
them!
"But that is not all. Oh, faithful, honest, fearless Gurgi finds
more. Surprises and delights, oh, joy!" Gurgi was so excited that he began
dancing on one foot, spinning around and clapping his hands.
"Mighty warriors go to seek a piggy! It is clever, wise Gurgi who
finds her!"
"Hen Wen?" cried Taran. "Where is she?"
"Here, mighty lord," Gurgi shouted, "the piggy is here!"
Chapter 16
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Doli
TARAN TURNED ACCUSINGLY to King Eiddileg. "You said nothing of Hen
Wen."
"You didn't ask me," said Eiddileg.
"That's sharp practice," Fflewddur muttered, "even for a king."
"It's worse than a lie," Taran said angrily. "You'd have let us go
our way, and we'd never have known what happened to her."
"You should be ashamed of yourself," Eilonwy put in, shaking her
finger at the King, who appeared most embarrassed at being found out. "It's
like looking the other way when someone's about to walk into a hole."
"Finders keepers," the Dwarf King snapped. "A troop of the Fair Folk
came on her near the Avren banks. She was running through a ravine. And I'll
tell you something you don't know. Half-a-dozen warriors were after her, the
henchmen of the Horned King. The troop took care of those warriors--- we have
our own ways of dealing with you clumsy lummoxes--- and they brought your pig
here, underground most of the way."
"No wonder Gwydion could find no tracks," Taran murmured to himself.
"The Fair Folk rescued her," Eiddileg angrily continued, turning
bright red, "and there's another fine example. Do I get a word of thanks?
Naturally not. But I do get called disagreeable names and have nasty thoughts
thrown at me. Oh, I can see it in your faces. Eiddileg is a thief and a
wretch--- that's what you're saying to yourselves. Well, just for that you
shan't have her back. And you'll stay here, all of you, until I feel like
letting you go."
Eilonwy gasped with indignation. "If you do that," she cried, "you
are a thief and a wretch! You gave me your word. The Fair Folk don't go back
on their word."
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"There was no mention of a pig, no mention at all." Eiddileg clapped
his hands over his paunch and snapped his mouth shut.
"No," Taran said, "there was not. But there is a question of honesty
and honor."
Eiddileg blinked and looked sideways. He took out his orange
kerchief and mopped his brow again. "Honor," he muttered, "yes, I was afraid
you'd come to that. True, the Fair Folk never break their word. Well," he
sighed, "that's the price for being openhearted and generous. So be it. You
shall have your pig."
"We shall need weapons to replace those we lost," Taran said.
"What?" screamed Eiddileg. "Are you trying to ruin me?"
"And crunchings and munchings!" piped up Gurgi.
Taran nodded. "Provisions, as well."
"This is going too far," Eiddileg shouted. "You're bleeding me to
death! Weapons! Food! Pigs!"
"And we beg for a guide who will show us the way to Caer Dathyl."
At this, Eiddileg nearly exploded. When finally he calmed himself,
he nodded reluctantly. "I shall lend you Doli," he said. "He is the only one I
can spare." He clapped his hands and gave orders to the armed dwarfs, then
turned to the companions.
"Off with you now, before I change my mind." Eilonwy stepped quickly
to the throne, bent and kissed Eiddileg on the top of his head. "Thank you,"
she whispered, "you're a perfectly lovely king."
"Out! Out!" the dwarf cried. As the stone door closed behind him,
Taran saw King Eiddileg fondling his head and beaming happily.
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The troop of Fair Folk led the company down the vaulted corridors.
Taran had at first imagined Eiddileg's realm to be no more than a maze of
underground galleries. To his astonishment, the corridors soon broadened into
wide avenues. In the great domes far overhead, gems glittered as bright as
sunshine. There was no grass, but deep carpets of green lichen stretched out
like meadows. There were blue lakes, glistening as much as the jewels above;
and cottages, and small farmhouses. It was difficult for Taran and his
companions to realize they were underground.
"I've been thinking," whispered Fflewddur, "that it might be wiser to
leave Hen Wen here, until we can return for her."
"I thought of that, too," answered Taran. "It's not that I don't
trust Eiddileg to keep his word--- most of the time. But I'm not sure we
should take another chance in that lake, and I doubt we could find another way
into his kingdom. He certainly won't make it easy for us to come back, I'm
afraid. No, we must take Hen Wen while we have the chance. Once she's with me
again, I won't let her out of my sight."
Suddenly the Fair Folk halted at one of the cottages, and from a
neatly carpentered pen Taran heard a loud "Hwoinch!"
He raced to the sty. Hen Wen was standing with her front feet on the
rails, grunting at the top of her voice.
One of the Fair Folk opened the gate and the white pig burst out,
wriggling and squealing.
Taran threw his arms around Hen Wen's neck. "Oh, Hen!" he cried.
"Even Medwyn thought you were dead!"
"Hwch! Hwaaw!" Hen Wen chuckled joyfully. Her beady eyes sparkled.
With her great pink snout she rooted affectionately under Taran's chin and
came close to knocking him down.
"She looks like a wonderful pig," Eilonwy said, scratching Hen Wen
behind the ears. "It's always nice to see two friends meet again. It's like
waking up with the sun shining."
"She's certainly a great deal of pig," agreed the bard, "though very
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handsome, I must say."
"And clever, noble, brave, wise Gurgi found her."
"Have no fear," Taran said with a smile to Gurgi, "there's no chance
we'll forget it."
Rolling and waddling on her short legs, Hen Wen followed Taran
happily, while the Fair Folk proceeded across the fields to where a stocky
figure waited. The captain of the troop announced that this was Doli, the
guide Eiddileg had promised. Doli, short and stumpy, almost as broad as he was
tall, wore a rust-colored leather jacket and stout, knee-high boots. A round
cap covered his head, but not enough to conceal a fringe of flaming red hair.
An axe and short sword hung from his belt; and over his shoulder, he wore the
stubby bow of the Fair Folk warrior.
Taran bowed politely. The dwarf stared at him with a pair of bright [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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