it.'
'You'll let us take it?' cried Taran. 'After all you've done?'
'Quite so,' replied Orddu. 'The Crochan is useless? except for making Cauldron-Born. Arawn has spoiled it for anything else, as you might imagine. It's sad it should be so, but that's the way things are. Now, I assure you, Cauldron-Born are the last creatures in the world we should want around here. We've decided the Crochan is nothing but a bother to us. And, since you're friends of Dallben…'
'You're giving us the Crochan?' Taran began in astonishment.
'Delighted to oblige you ladies,' said the bard.
'Gently, gently, my ducklings,' Orddu interrupted. '
'We have no treasures to bargain with,' Taran said in dismay. 'Alas that we do not.'
'We couldn't expect you to pay as much as Arawn did,' replied Orddu, 'but we're sure you can find something to offer in exchange. Oh, shall we say…the North Wind in a bag?'
'The North Wind!' Taran exclaimed. 'Impossible! How could you ever dream…?'
'Very well,' said Orddu, 'we shan't be difficult. The South Wind, then. It's much gentler.'
'You make sport of us,' Taran cried angrily. 'The price you ask is beyond what any of us can pay.'
Orddu hesitated. 'Possibly you're right,' she admitted. 'Well, then, something a little more personal. I have it!' she said, beaming at Taran. 'Give us? give us the nicest summer day you can remember! You can't say that's hard, since it belongs to you!'
'Yes,' Orwen said eagerly. 'A lovely summer afternoon full of sunlight and sleepy scents.'
'There's nothing so sweet,' murmured Orgoch, sucking a tooth, 'as a tender young lamb's summer afternoon.'
'How can I give you that?' protested Taran. 'Or any other day, when they're? they're inside of me somewhere? You can't get them out! I mean…'
'We could try,' Orgoch muttered.
Orddu sighed patiently. 'Very well, my goslings. We've made our suggestions and we're willing to listen to yours. But mind you, if it's to be a fair exchange, it must be something you prize as much as the Crochan.'
'I prize my sword,' Taran said. 'It is a gift from Dallben and the first blade that is truly mine. For the Crochan I would gladly part with it.' He began quickly to unbuckle his belt, but Orddu waved an uninterested hand.
'A sword?' she answered, shaking her head. 'Goodness, no, my duck. We already have so many? too many, in fact. And some of them famous weapons of mighty warriors.'
'Then,' said Taran, with hesitation, 'I offer you Lluagor. She is a noble animal.' He paused, seeing Orddu's frown. 'Or,' he added reluctantly in a low voice, 'there is my horse, Melynlas, a colt of Melyngar, Prince Gwydion's own steed. None is faster or more surefooted. I treasure Melynlas beyond all others.'
'Horses?' said Orddu. 'No, that won't do at all. Such a bother feeding them and caring for them. Besides, with Orgoch it's difficult to keep pets about.'
Taran was silent for a moment. His face paled as he thought of Adaon's brooch and his hand went protectively to it. 'All that remains to me,' he began slowly.
'No, no!' Gurgi cried, thrusting his way toward the enchantress and brandishing his wallet. 'Take Gurgi's own great treasure! Take bag of crunchings and munchings!'
'Not food,' said Orddu. 'That won't do either. The only one of us who has the slightest interest in food is Orgoch. And I'm sure your wallet holds nothing to tempt her.'
Gurgi looked at Orddu in dismay. 'But it is all poor Gurgi has to give.' He held out the wallet once again.
The enchantress smiled and shook her head. Gurgi's hands fell to his sides; his shoulders drooped; and he turned mournfully away.
'You must like jewelry,' Eilonwy put in quickly. She pulled the ring from her finger and offered it to Orddu. 'This is a lovely thing,' Eilonwy said. 'Prince Gwydion gave it to me. Do you see the stone? It was carved by the Fair Folk.'
Orddu took the ring, held it close to her eye, and squinted. 'Lovely, lovely,' she said. 'So pretty. Almost as pretty as you, my lamb. But so much older. No, I'm afraid not. We have a number of them, too. We really don't want any more. Keep it, my chick. One day you may find some use for it, but we surely won't.' She gave back the ring to Eilonwy, who sadly replaced it on her finger.
'I do have something else I treasure,' Eilonwy went on. She reached into the folds of her cloak and brought out the golden sphere. 'Here,' she said, turning it in her hands so that it shone with a bright glow. 'It's much better than just a light,' Eilonwy said. 'You see things differently in it, clearer, somehow. It's very useful.'
'How sweet of you to offer it to us,' said Orddu. 'But there again, it's something we don't really need.'
'Ladies, ladies!' cried Fflewddur. 'You've overlooked a most excellent bargain.' He stepped forward and unslung his harp. 'I quite understand that bags of food and all such couldn't possibly interest you. But I ask you to consider this harp. You're alone in this gloomy fen,' he went on, 'and a little music should be just the thing.
'The harp almost plays of itself,' Fflewddur continued. He put the beautifully curved instrument to his shoulder, barely touched the strings, and a long, lovely melody filled the air. 'You see?' cried the bard. 'Nothing to it!'
'Oh, it is nice!' Orwen murmured wistfully. 'And think of the songs we could sing to keep ourselves company.'
Orddu peered closely at the harp. 'I notice a good many of the strings are badly knotted. Has the weather got into them?'
'No, not exactly the weather,' said the bard. 'With me, they tend to break frequently. But only when I? only when I color the facts a bit. I'm sure you ladies wouldn't have that kind of trouble.'
'I can understand you should prize it,' Orddu said. 'But, if we want music we can always send for a few birds. No, all things considered, it would be a nuisance, keeping it in tune and so on.'
'Are you certain you have nothing else?' Orwen asked hopefully.
'That's all,' said the disappointed bard. 'Absolutely everything. Unless you want the cloaks off our backs.'
'Bless you, no!' said Orddu. 'It wouldn't be proper in the least for you ducklings to go without them. You'd perish with the cold? and what good would the Crochan be to you then?
'I'm terribly sorry, my chicks,' Orddu went on. 'It does indeed seem you have nothing to interest us. Very well, we shall keep the Crochan and you shall be on your way.'
Chapter 15
The Black Cauldron
FAREWELL, MY OWLETS,' Orddu said, turning toward the cottage. 'Unfortunate you couldn't strike a bargain with us. But that, too, is the way things are. Flutter home to your nest, and give all our love to little Dallben.'
'Wait!' Taran called, and strode after her. Eilonwy, realizing his intent, cried out in protest and caught his arm. Gently, Taran put her aside. Orddu stopped and looked back at him.
'There is? there is one thing more,' Taran said in a low voice. He stiffened and took a deep breath. 'The brooch I wear, the gift of Adaon Son of Taliesin.'
'Brooch?' said Orddu, eyeing him curiously. 'A brooch, indeed? Yes, that might be more interesting. Just the thing, perhaps. You should have mentioned it sooner.'
Taran lifted his head and his eyes met Orddu's. For that instant it seemed to him they were quite alone. He raised his hand slowly to his throat and felt the power of the brooch working within him.
'You have been toying with us, Orddu,' he whispered. 'You saw that I wore Adaon's clasp from the moment we came here. You knew it for what it was.'
'Does that matter?' Orddu replied. 'It is still your choice, whether you will bargain with it. Yes, we know the brooch well. Menwy Son of Teirgwaedd, first of the bards, fashioned it long ago.'
'You could have slain us,' Taran murmured, 'and taken the clasp.'
Orddu smiled sadly. 'Do you not understand, poor chicken? Like knowledge, truth, and love themselves, the
