Ellidyr straightened, his eyes black and bitter. 'Do not give me council on my own steed. Islimach can go on. And so she will.'
Nevertheless, as Ellidyr turned away, Taran saw his face fill with lines of worry. 'Let me look at her,' Taran said. 'Perhaps I can find the trouble.' He knelt and reached toward Islimach's foreleg.
'Do not touch her,' cried Ellidyr. 'She will not abide a stranger's hands.'
Islimach reared and bared her teeth. Ellidyr laughed scornfully. 'Learn for yourself, pig-boy,' he said. 'Her hooves are sharp as knives, as you shall see.'
Taran rose and grasped Islimach's bridle. For a moment, as the horse lunged, he feared she would indeed trample him. Islimach's eyes were round with terror; she whickered and struck out at him. A hoof glanced against his shoulder, but Taran did not loosen his hold. He reached up and put a hand to Islimach's long, bony head. The mare shuddered, but Taran spoke quietly and soothingly to her. She tossed her mane, the straining muscles relaxed; the reins went loose and she made no attempt to draw away.
Without stopping the flow of reassuring words, Taran raised her hoof. As he had suspected, there was a small, jagged stone wedged far back behind the shoe. He drew his knife. Islimach trembled, but Taran worked quickly and deftly. The stone came free and fell to the ground.
'This has happened even to Melynlas,' Taran explained, patting the roan's flank. 'There's a place deep in the hoof anyone can miss it if they don't know. It was Coll who showed me how to find it.'
Ellidyr's face was livid. 'You have tried to steal honor from me, pig-boy,' he said through clenched teeth. 'Will you now rob me of my horse?'
Taran had expected no thanks, but the angry thrust of Ellidyr's words took him aback. Ellidyr's hand was on his sword. Taran felt a surge of answering anger, a flush rising to his cheeks, but he turned away.
'Your honor is your own,' Taran answered coldly, 'and so is your steed. What stone is in your shoe, Prince of Pen Llarcau?'
He strode to his companions, who had taken cover in the tangle of brush. Gurgi had already opened the wallet and was proudly distributing its contents. 'Yes, yes!' Gurgi cried gleefully, 'crunchings and munchings for all! Thanks to generous, kindhearted Gurgi! He will not let brave warriors suffer bellies filled only with howlings and growlings!'
Ellidyr remained behind, patting Islimach's neck and murmuring in the roan's ear. Since he made no move to join the companions at their meal, Taran called out to him. But the Prince of Pen-Llarcau only gave him a bitter glance and remained with Islimach.
'That foul-tempered nag is the only thing he cares about,' muttered the bard, 'and as far as I can see, the only thing that cares about him. They're two of a kind, if you ask me.'
Adaon, sitting a little apart from the others, called Taran to him. 'I commend your patience,' he said. 'The black beast spurs Ellidyr cruelly.'
'I think he'll feel better once we find the cauldron,' Taran said. 'There will be glory enough for all to share.'
Adaon smiled gravely. 'Is there not glory enough in living the days given to us? You should know there is adventure in simply being among those we love and the things we love, and beauty, too.
'But I would speak to you of another matter,' Adaon went on. His handsome face, usually tranquil, was clouded. 'I have few possessions, for I count them of little importance. But these few I treasure: Lluagor, my packets of healing herbs, and this,' he said, touching the clasp at his throat, 'the brooch I wear, a precious gift from Arianllyn, my betrothed. Should any ill befall me, they are yours. I have watched you closely, Taran of Caer Dallben. In all my journeys I have met no one else to whom I would rather entrust them.'
'Do not speak of ill befalling you,' Taran cried. 'We are companions and protect one another against dangers. Besides, Adaon, your friendship is gift enough for me.'
'Nevertheless,' Adaon replied, 'we cannot know all the future holds. Will you accept them?'
Taran nodded.
'It is well,' Adaon said. 'Now my heart is lighter.'
After the meal it was decided they would rest until midday. Ellidyr made no comment when Adaon ordered him to stand the first watch. Taran rolled up in his cloak under the protection of a bush. Exhausted by the journey, and by his own doubts and fears, he slept heavily.
The sun was high when he opened his eyes. He sat up with a start, realizing his turn at guard had almost passed. Around him, the companions still slept.
'Ellidyr,' he called, 'why didn't you wake me?' He rose hurriedly to his feet. There was no sign of Ellidyr or Islimach.
Taran hastily roused the others. He ran a little distance into the trees, then circled back. 'He's gone!' Taran cried. 'He's gone after the cauldron alone. He said he would and now he's done it!'
'Stolen a march on us, has he?' grumbled Doli. 'Well, we'll catch up to him, and if we don't? that's his concern. He doesn't know where he's going and, for the matter of that, neither do we.'
'Good riddance to him,' said Fflewddur. 'If we have any kind of luck at all, we may not see him again.'
For the first time Taran saw deep alarm in Adaon's face. 'We must overtake him quickly,' Adaon said. 'Ellidyr's pride and ambition swallow him up. I fear to think what might happen should the cauldron come into his hands.'
They set off with all possible haste. Adaon soon found Ellidyr's trail leading southward. 'I was hoping he might have got disgusted with the whole business and gone home,' said Fflewddur, 'but there's no doubt of it, he's heading for Morva.'
Despite their speed, the companions saw no sign of Ellidyr himself. They pressed on, urging the last strength from the laboring horses, until they were obliged to halt for breath. A cold wind had risen, swirling the leaves in great circles above their heads.
'I do not know if we can overtake him,' Adaon said. 'He rides as swiftly as we, and he is nearly a quarter day's journey ahead of us.'
His heart pounding, Taran flung himself from Melynlas and slumped to the ground. He cradled his head in his hands. From a distance came the shrill call of a bird, the first birdsong he had heard since leaving Caer Dallben.
'That is not the true speech of a bird,' Adaon cried, springing to his feet. 'The Huntsmen have found us.'
Without awaiting Adaon's order, the dwarf raced in the direction of the Huntsmen's signal. As Taran watched, Doli vanished before his eyes. Adaon drew his sword. 'This time we must stand against them,' he said. 'We can run from them no longer.' Quickly he commanded Taran, Eilonwy, and Gurgi to ready their bows, while he and the bard mounted their horses.
Within moments the dwarf was back again. 'Five Huntsmen!' he cried. 'Go on, the rest of you. I'll play them the same trick.'
'No,' said Adaon. 'I do not trust it to work again. Hurry, follow me.'
He led them through a clearing and halted at the far side. 'Here we make our stand,' Adaon said to Taran. 'As soon as they come in sight, Fflewddur, Doli, and I will charge them from the flank. When they turn to give battle, loose your arrows.'
Adaon swung around to face the clearing. In another instant the Huntsmen burst from cover. They had no sooner taken a stride forward than Adaon, with a great cry, urged his horse across the ground. Doli and the bard galloped beside him. Even as Taran drew his bow, Adaon was in the midst of the Huntsmen, striking left and right with his blade. The dwarf had pulled the stubby axe from his belt and chopped furiously at his enemies. Surprised by the fierce attack, the Huntsmen spun about to engage the riders.
Taran loosed his arrow, and heard the shafts of Eilonwy and Gurgi whistle past him. The flight of all three went wild, snatched by the wind and skittering among the dry bushes. Shouting madly, Gurgi fitted another arrow to his bow. Three Huntsmen pressed toward Fflewddur and the dwarf, forcing them into a thicket. Adaon's sword flashed and rang against the weapons of his assailants.
Now Taran dared not loose another shaft for fear of hitting one of the companions. 'We are fighting uselessly,' he cried, and flung his bow to the ground. He unsheathed his sword and ran to Adaon's aid. One of the Huntsmen shifted his attack to Taran, who struck out at him with all his strength. His blow glanced from the jacket of animal skins, but the Huntsman lost his footing and dropped to earth. Taran stepped forward. He had forgotten the vicious daggers of the Huntsmen until he saw the man raise himself and snatch at his belt.
