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“No—no,” he said slowly, “it would be folly to think of attacking them.” He smiled quickly at Fflewddur. “The bards would sing of us,” he admitted, “but we’d be in no position to appreciate it.”
In his mind, he saw again the Horned King and heard the screams from the flaming cages.
With a single, firm gesture, Gwydion drew the blade and held it aloft. The weapon glittered blindingly. In fear and wonder, Taran shrank back, his wound throbbing anew. Gwydion quickly returned the blade to its scabbard.
“In Oeth-Anoeth, time is not as you know it here. It is better that I do not speak of the torments Achren had devised.
The worst were not of the body but of the spirit, and of these the most painful was despair.
It is enough for you to know that I understood the workings of life and death, of laughter and tears, endings and beginnings. I saw the truth of the world, and knew no chains could hold me. My bonds were light as dreams.
“She knew the Horned King’s secret name.” “His name?” Taran cried in astonishment. “I never realized a name could be so powerful.”
I only know she has repaid your kindness in the fullest measure.
“To faithful and valiant Gurgi shall be given a wallet of food which shall be always full. Guard it well; it is one of the treasures of Prydain.
ask no reward,” Taran said. “I want no friend to repay me for what I did willingly, out of friendship and for my own honor.”
“In spite of all that has befallen me, I have come to love the valleys and mountains of your northern lands. But my thoughts have turned more and more to Caer Dallben. I long to be home.”
But Gurgi, not I, found her. Doli and Fflewddur fought gloriously while I was wounded by a sword I had no right to draw. And Eilonwy was the one who took the sword from the barrow in the first place. As for me, what I mostly did was make mistakes.”
Yet it is a curious feeling. I have returned to the chamber I slept in and found it smaller than I remember. The fields are beautiful, yet not quite as I recalled them. And I am troubled, for I wonder now if I am to be a stranger in my own home.”
but, essentially, Prydain is a country existing only in the imagination.
However, Taran the Assistant Pig-Keeper, like Eilonwy of the red-gold hair, was born in my own Prydain.
things never happen in real life. Or do they? Most of us are called on to perform tasks far beyond what we can do. Our capabilities seldom match our aspirations, and we are often woefully unprepared. To this extent, we are all Assistant Pig-Keepers at heart.
