of my friendship. And in proof of yours, you shall give me? the small thing, the trifle you hold in your hand.'
'This worthless shard?' Taran answered. 'Will you have it for a token? Then let us share it, half for me and half for you.'
'No, no, do not break it!' screamed Morda, his face turning ashen. He thrust out a skinny claw and took a step toward Taran, who quickly drew back and raised the fragment of bone above his head.
'A worthless thing it is,' Taran cried. 'Your life, Morda! Your life I hold in my hand!'
Morda's eyes rolled madly in their wasted sockets, a violent shudder gripped him and his body quaked as though buffeted by a gale. 'Yes, yes!' he cried in a voice racked with terror. 'My life! Poured into my finger! With a knife I cut it from my own hand. Give! Give it back to me!'
'You set yourself above the human kind,' Taran replied. 'You scorned their weakness, despised their frailty, and could not see yourself as one of them. Even I, without birthright or name of my own know that if nothing else I am of the race of men.'
'Kill me not!' cried Morda, writhing in anguish. 'My life is yours; take it not from me!' The wizard flung himself to his knees and stretched out his trembling arms. His bloodless lips quivered as the words burst from his mouth. 'Hear me! Hear me! Many secrets are mine, many enchantments. I will teach them to you. All, all!'
Morda's hands clasped and unclasped. His fingers knotted around each other and he rocked back and forth at Taran's feet. His voice had taken on a wheedling, whining tone. 'I will serve you, serve you well, Master Pig-Keeper. All my knowledge, all my powers at your bidding.' Angharad's jewel dangled from its silver chain at Morda's wrist, and he clutched it and held it up before Taran. 'This! Even this!'
'The gem is not yours to give,' Taran answered.
'Not mine to give, Master Pig-Keeper?' The wizard's voice grew soft and sly. 'Not mine to give. But yours to take. Would you know its secret workings? I alone can tell you. Would you gain mastery of its use? Have you never dreamed of power such as this? Here, it awaits you. The race of men at your beck and call. Who would dare disobey your smallest wish? Who would not tremble in fear of your displeasure? Promise me my life, Master Pig-Keeper, and I shall promise you…'
'Do you bargain with enchantment you stole and corrupted?' Taran cried angrily. 'Let its secrets die with you!'
At this Morda howled horribly and pressed himself almost flat on the ground. Barking sobs racked his body. 'My life! Spare it! Spare it! Do not give me to death. Take the gem. Change me to the lowest crawling thing, to foulest vermin, only let me live!'
The sight of the cowering wizard turned Taran sick at heart, and for a long moment he could not speak. At last he said, 'I will not kill you, Morda.'
The wizard left off his frightful sobbing and lifted his head. 'You will not, Master Pig-Keeper?' He crept forward and made as though to fling his arms about Taran's feet.
'I will not kill you,' repeated Taran, drawing back in revulsion, 'though it is in my heart to do so. Your evil is too deep for me to judge your punishment. Restore my companions,' he commanded. 'Then you will go prisoner with me to Dallben. He alone can give whatever justice you may hope for. Stand, wizard. Cast Angharad's jewel from you.'
Morda, still crouching, slowly and reluctantly pulled the chain from his wrist. His pasty cheeks trembled as he fondled the winking gem, murmuring and muttering to himself. Suddenly he leaped upright and sprang forward. With all his might he swung the jewel at the end of its chain like a whip across Taran's face.
The sharp edges of the stone slashed Taran's forehead. With a cry he stumbled backward. Blood streamed into his eyes, blinding him. The shard of bone flew from his fingers and went spinning and skittering over the floor. Under the force of the wizard's blow, the jewel snapped from its silver chain and rolled into a corner.
In another moment the wizard was upon him growling and snarling like a mad beast. Morda's fingers clawed at Taran's throat. His yellow teeth were bared in a ghastly grin. Taran strove to tear himself from the wizard's grasp, but the frenzy of Morda's attack staggered him; he lost his footing and tumbled to earth. Uselessly he sought to break the deadly grip that stifled him. His head whirled. Through bloodfilled eyes he glimpsed the wizard's face twisted in hate and fury.
'Your strength will not save you,' Morda hissed. 'It is no match for mine. You are weak as all your kind. Did I not warn you? My life is not in my body. Strong as death am I! So shall you die, pig-keeper! '
With sudden horror Taran knew the wizard spoke the truth; Morda's wasted arms were hard as gnarled branches, and though Taran struggled desperately, the wizard's relentless grip tightened. Taran's lungs heaved to bursting and he felt himself drowning in a black sea. Morda's features blurred; only the wizard's baleful, unlidded gaze stayed fixed.
A crash of splintering wood shattered in Taran's ears. Morda's grip suddenly slackened Shouting in alarm and rage, the wizard leaped to his feet and spun about. His head still reeling, Taran clutched at the wall and tried to draw himself up. Llyan had burst into the chamber.
Growling fiercely, her eyes blazing gold fires, the huge cat sprang forward. Morda turned to meet her attack.
'Llyan! Beware of him!' Taran cried.
The force of Llyan's charge bore the wizard to his knees, but Morda in his unyielding strength grappled with the animal.
Llyan flung her tawny body right and left. Her powerful hind legs, their claws unsheathed lashed vainly at the wizard, who twisted from her paws and now clung to her arching back. Yowling and spitting, the great cat tossed her head furiously, her sharp teeth flashed in her massive jaws; yet, with all her might, she could not free herself from the wizard's clutches. Taran knew even Llyan's strength would soon ebb, just as his own had failed. She had given him a moment more of life, but now Llyan herself was doomed.
The bone! Taran dropped to hands and knees seeking the shard. Nowhere did he see it. He flung aside wooden stools, upturned earthen vessels, scrabbled in the ashes of the hearth. The bone had vanished.
From behind him rose a high twittering and squeaking and he spun to see the mouse bobbing frantically on its hind legs. In its jaws the creature held the splinter of bone.
Instantly Taran caught up the polished fragment to snap it between his fingers. He gasped in dismay. The bone would not break.
Chapter 10
The Broken Spell
THE POLISHED SPLINTER WAS unyielding as iron. Teeth clenched and muscles trembling with his effort, Taran felt he struggled against the wizard himself. Llyan had dropped weakly to her haunches; Morda sprang free of the unconscious cat and set upon Taran once more, snatching at the fragment. The wizard's fingers locked on the middle of the shard, but Taran clung with all his strength to the ends of it. He felt the splinter bend as Morda strove to wrest it from his grasp.
Suddenly the bone snapped in two. A sound sharper than a thunderclap split Taran's ears. With a horrible scream that stabbed through the chamber, Morda toppled backward, stiffened, clawed the air, then fell to the ground like a pile of broken twigs.
That same instant the mouse vanished. Gurgi stood at Taran's side. 'Kind master saves us!' he yelled, flinging his arms about Taran. 'Yes, yes! Gurgi is Gurgi again! No more a mouse with shriekings and squeakings!'
In Taran's hand the sundered bone had turned to gray dust, which he cast aside. Too exhausted and bewildered to speak, he could only pat Gurgi fondly and gratefully. Llyan, her deep chest heaving, climbed to her feet near Morda's broken, lifeless form. Her tawny fur still bristled furiously and her long tail looked twice its thickness. As Gurgi hastened to unloose Kaw, who jabbered at the top of his voice and beat his wings excitedly against the cage, Llyan's golden eyes darted about the chamber and from her throat rose an anxious, questioning trill.
'Great Belin!' came Fflewddur's voice, 'I'm trapped as badly as before!'
Llyan loping ahead of him, Taran ran to a corner of the chamber. The basket in which Morda imprisoned the hare now held the bard, squeezed into it along with his harp and stuck fast with his long shanks dangling over one
