doing so, I shall ask King Rhuddlum to set a guard over you.'
'What?' cried Eilonwy. 'How dare you!' Tears suddenly filled her eyes. 'Yes, I do understand! You're glad I've been sent to this wretched island and these clucking hens! You couldn't wait for a chance to be rid of me! You actually want me to stay here and be lost in this dreadful castle. That's worse than putting someone's head in a sack of feathers!' Sobbing, Eilonwy stamped her foot. 'Taran of Caer Dallben, I'm not speaking to you any more!'
Chapter 4
Shadows
THE FEAST THAT EVENING was surely the merriest the castle had ever seen. Kaw, perched on the back of Taran's chair, bobbed up and down and looked as if the banquet had been arranged entirely in his honor. King Rhuddlum beamed with good spirits; the talk and laughter of the guests rang through the Great Hall. Behind the long table, crowded with Queen Teleria's ladies of the court, Magg flitted back and forth, snapping his fingers and whispering commands to servitors bearing endless dishes of food and flagons of drink. For Taran it was a waking nightmare; he sat silent and uneasy, his repast untouched.
'You needn't look so gloomy,' said Eilonwy. 'After all, you aren't the one who has to stay here. If I'm trying to make the best of things, I must say you're not exactly helpful. I want to remind you I'm still not speaking to you after the way you behaved today.'
Without waiting to hear Taran's confused protests, Eilonwy tossed her head and began chattering to Prince Rhun. Taran bit his lip. He felt as though he were shouting a voiceless warning, while Eilonwy, all unwitting, raced gaily toward the brink of a cliff.
At the end of the feasting, Fflewddur tuned his harp, stepped to the middle of the Hall, and sang his new lay. Taran listened without pleasure, although he realized it was the best Fflewddur had yet composed. When the bard had done, and King Rhuddlum had begun to yawn, the guests rose from their seats at the table. Taran plucked Fflewddur's sleeve and drew him aside.
'I've been thinking about the stables,' Taran said anxiously. 'No matter what Magg says, it's not a fitting place for you to sleep. I'll speak to King Rhuddlum and I'm sure he'll order Magg to give you back your chamber in the castle.' Taran hesitated. 'I? I think somehow it would be better if we were all together. We are strangers here, and know nothing of the ways of this place.'
'Great Belin, don't give yourself a moment's concern about that,' replied the bard. 'For my part, I prefer the stables. Indeed, that's one reason I go wandering: to get away from stuffy, dreary castles. Besides,' he added behind his hand, 'it would lead to trouble with Magg. And if he pushes me beyond endurance, there will be sword- play? a Fflam is hotheaded? which is hardly courteous behavior from a guest. No, no, we shall all be fine and meet again in the morning.' So saying, Fflewddur shouldered his harp, waved good night, and made his way from the Hall.
'Something tells me we should keep an eye on the castle,' Taran said to Gurgi. He put a forefinger under Kaw's feet and set the bird on Gurgi's shoulder, where the crow immediately began running his beak through Gurgi's matted hair. 'Stay close to Eilonwy's chamber,' he went on. 'I'll join you soon. Keep Kaw with you and send him to me if anything seems amiss.'
Gurgi nodded. 'Yes, yes,' he whispered. 'Loyal Gurgi will stand with watchful waitings. He will guard dreamful drowsings of noble Princess.'
Unnoticed among the departing guests, Taran walked to the courtyard. Hoping to find Gwydion, he strode quickly toward the stables. Stars filled the clear night sky and a bright moon hung above the crags of Mona. In the stables, Taran discovered no trace of the Prince of Don, but came only upon Fflewddur curled up in the straw, his arm flung around his harp and already snoring peacefully.
Taran turned once more to the castle, which had by now fallen into darkness. He stood a moment, wondering where else he might seek.
'Hullo, hullo!' Prince Rhun burst from around a corner at such a rate he nearly sent Taran sprawling. 'Still awake, are you? So am I! My mother says it's good for me to take a little stroll before sleeping. I suppose you're doing the same? Very good! We shall walk along together?'
'That we shall not!' Taran retorted. Now, of all times, he had no wish to be hindered by the feckless Prince. 'I? I seek the tailors,' he added quickly.
'Where are they lodged?'
'You're looking for tailors?' Rhun asked. 'How odd! Whatever for?'
'My jacket,' Taran hurriedly answered. 'It? it fits me badly. I must ask them to fix it.'
'In the middle of the night?' asked Rhun, his moon face puzzled. 'Now, that really is surprising!' He pointed toward a shadowed side. of the castle. 'Their chambers are down there. But I shouldn't think they'd be in a humor to stitch well if you rouse them up out of a sleep. Tailors can be touchy, you know. I advise you to wait until morning.'
'No, it must be done now,' Taran said, impatient to be rid of Rhun.
The Prince shrugged, wished him a cheerful good night, and trotted off again. Taran made his way toward a cluster of sheds beyond the stable. His search there was also in vain. Discouraged, he had decided to rejoin Gurgi when he stopped suddenly. A figure was moving quickly across the courtyard, not toward the main portal but to the farthest angle of the heavy stone wall.
Could Eilonwy have slipped away from Gurgi? Taran was about to call out. Then, fearful of waking the castle, he hurried after the figure. An instant later it seemed to disappear completely. Taran pressed on. At the wall he stumbled upon a narrow opening, barely wide enough to squeeze through. Taran plunged through the curtain of ivy concealing it and found himself beyond the castle on a rocky slope overlooking the harbor.
The figure, Taran suddenly realized, was not Eilonwy? too tall, the gait different. He caught his breath as the cloaked shape turned once for a furtive glance at the castle and the moonlight glittered for a moment over its features.
It was Magg.
Spider-like, the Chief Steward was rapidly picking his way down a path. In a surge of fear and suspicion, Taran clambered blindly over jagged stones, trying his best to be both swift and silent. Despite the clear night the way was difficult to follow, boulders loomed to catch him unawares and break his stride. He longed for the light of Eilonwy's bauble as he scrambled headlong after Magg toward the sleeping harbor.
Magg had come to level ground well ahead of Taran, and was scuttling along the sea wall until, at the far end, he reached a huge pile of rocks. With surprising agility the Chief Steward swung himself up, crawled over, and once more dropped out of sight. Casting caution aside, fearful he would lose track of Magg, Taran broke into a run. Along the wall moonbright water lapped and whispered. A shadow moved for an instant among the stilted piers. In alarm Taran checked his pace, then hastened on. His eyes were playing tricks. Even the rocks themselves seemed to rise before him like crouching, threatening beasts.
Gritting his teeth, Taran climbed the dark barrier of rocks. Below, the water churned in glittering eddies and foamed among the stones. The surf rang in his ears as he hauled himself to the crest. There he clung, not daring to follow farther. Magg had stopped not many paces beyond, at the edge of a narrow spit of land. Taran saw him kneel and make a rapid motion. In another instant a light flared.
The Chief Steward had lit a torch and now raised it overhead, moving the flickering flame slowly back and forth. As Taran watched, fearful and puzzled, a tiny point of orange light glowed far seaward. This answering signal, Taran judged, could come only from a ship, though he could make out nothing of the vessel's shape or distance. Magg waved the torch again, in a different pattern. The light from the ship repeated it, then winked out. Magg thrust his torch into the black water where it sputtered and died; he turned and strode quickly toward the tumble of rocks where Taran lay. Taran, left blinking in the sudden darkness, sought to clamber down before Magg should come upon him, but could find no foothold. In panic he groped for a jutting stone below him, slipped, caught vainly for another one. He could hear Magg scrabbling up the far side and let himself fall among the rocks. Wincing at the sharp pain, he tried to hide in the shadows. Magg's head had just appeared at the crest when Taran was seized firmly from behind.
