to the stronghold of Lord Goryon where, in Aeddan's judgment, the warriors had surely taken the animal. Though more than ever anxious over his beloved steed, Taran worked through the morning beside Aeddan. The farm couple had kept scarcely a morsel of the evening's fare for themselves, and Taran saw no other means to repay them. By midday, however, he dared delay no longer, and made ready to take his leave.
Alarca had come to the door of the hut. Like her husband, the woman had asked nothing beyond what little Taran had chosen to tell of his quest, but now she said, 'Will you still follow your own path? Have you turned from home and kinsmen? What mother's heart longs for her son as I long for mine?'
'Alas, none that I know,' Taran answered, folding Amren's jacket and gently putting it in her hands. 'And none that knows me.'
'You have been well taught in the ways of farming,' Aeddan said. 'If you seek a place of welcome, you have already found one.'
'Whatever other welcomes I find, may they be as openhearted as yours,' Taran replied, and it was not without regret that he and Gurgi said farewell.
Chapter 3
Goryon and Gast
AEDDAN HAD POINT OUT the shortest path to Lord Goryon's stronghold, and the two wayfarers reached it by midafternoon. It was not a castle, Taran saw, but a large huddle of buildings circled by a barricade of wooden stakes lashed with osier and chinked up with hard-packed earth. The gate of heavy palings stood open, and there was much going and coming of horsemen, of warriors on foot, of herdsmen driving in their cows from pasture.
Though Gurgi was far from eager, Taran led on, keeping as bold a face as he could, and amid the busy crowd the two entered the stronghold unnoticed and unchallenged. Without difficulty Taran found the stables, which were larger, cleaner, and in better repair than the rest of the buildings; and strode quickly to a young boy raking straw, calling out in a firm voice, 'Tell me, friend, is there not a gray stallion here that Lord Goryon's warriors captured? A handsome steed, they say, and a rare one.'
'Gray stallion?' cried the stable boy. 'Gray dragon, rather! The beast half-kicked his stall down and gave me a bite I'll not forget. Lord Goryon will have broken bones before the day ends.'
'How then?' Taran hurriedly asked. 'What has he done with the steed?'
'What has the steed done with him!' answered the boy, grinning. 'Thrown him the most of a dozen times already! The Master of Horse himself cannot sit three moments on the creature's back, but Goryon tries to ride it even now. Goryon the Valorous he is called,' the boy chuckled; then added behind his hand, 'though to my mind he has little stomach for this task. But his henchmen egg him on, and so Goryon means to break the beast to his will even if he must first break its back.'
'Master, master,' Gurgi whispered frantically, 'hasten to King Smoit for helpings!'
Taran's face had paled at the boy's words. Caer Cadarn was too far; Smoit's help would come too late. 'Where is the steed?' he asked, hiding his concern. 'This would be a sight worth the seeing.'
The stable boy pointed his rake toward a long, low-roofed building. 'In the training field behind the Great Hall. But take heed,' he added, rubbing his shoulder, 'keep your distance, or the beast will give you worse than he gave me.'
Setting off instantly Taran no sooner passed the Great Hall than he heard shouting and the furious whinny of Melynlas. His pace quickened into a run. A grassless, hoofbeaten turf was ahead. He glimpsed warriors circling the gray stallion who reared, bucked, and spun about with heels flying. In another moment the burly, thickset figure atop the stallion's back was flung loose; then, arms and legs flailing, Lord Goryon plummeted to earth and lay there like a sack of lead.
Melynlas galloped desperately, seeking escape from the circle of warriors, one of whom hastened to snatch at the horse's reins. All caution forgotten, Taran cried out and raced to the stallion's side. He grasped the bridle before the surprised man could think of drawing his sword, and threw his arms about the neck of Melynlas, who whickered in greeting. The other onlookers ran toward Taran, as he strove to mount and pull Gurgi up after him. A hand seized his jacket. Taran fought free and set his back against the stallion's flank. Lord Goryon had meanwhile picked himself up and now burst through the press of warriors.
'Insolence! Impudence!' roared Goryon. His dark, gray-shot beard bristled like a furious hedgehog. His heavy face was mottled purple, whether from bruises, lack of breath, blind anger, or all three at once Taran could not judge. 'Does a churl lay hand on my horse? Away with him! Thrash him soundly for his insult!'
'I do no more than claim my own steed,' Taran cried. 'Melynlas foal of Melyngar…'
A tall, raw-boned man with one arm bound up in a sling, whom Taran guessed to be the Master of Horse, peered sharply at him. 'Foal of Melyngar, Prince Gwydion's war horse? That is noble lineage. How do you know this?'
'I know it as well as I know Melynlas was stolen from me,' Taran declared, 'near Aeddan's farmhold at the borders of your cantrev, and my comrade robbed of his pony.' He tried then to explain who he was and the purpose of his journey, but the cantrev lord, unheeding, broke in angrily.
'Impudence!' cried Goryon, his beard bristling all the more furiously. 'How dares a pig-keeper insult me with a liar's tale? My border-band gained these mounts nearly at the cost of their lives.'
'The cost of our lives,' Taran retorted, glancing hurriedly at the faces around him. 'Where are the riders? I beg you call them to witness.'
'More insolence!' snapped the cantrev lord. 'They ride the borders, as they are commanded. Do you mean to tell me I keep idle men and shirkers in my service?'
'And full service have they given you,' one of the warriors said to Goryon. 'Heroes, all of them, to stand against six giants…'
'Giants?' repeated Taran, scarcely believing his ears.
'Giants indeed!' cried Goryon. 'It will not be forgotten how the brave riders of Goryon the Valorous were beset by enemies, outnumbered two to one. By worse than giants! For one was a fierce monster with sharp claws and fangs. Another carried an oak tree in his fist and swept it about him as if it were no more than a twig. But the riders of Goryon overcame them all with glory and honor!'
'The stallion, too, was bewitched,' put in another of Goryon's henchmen, 'and fought as fiercely as the giants. The beast is a man-killer, vicious as a starving wolf.'
'But Goryon the Valorous will tame the creature,' added another, turning to the cantrev lord.
'You'll ride the brute, will you not, Goryon?'
'Eh?' said Goryon, a painful and unhappy grimace suddenly marking his face. 'So I will, so I will,' he growled; then flung out angrily 'You insult my honor if you think I cannot.'
As Taran stood among these rough warriors, he began to despair of finding any means of convincing the prickly-tempered cantrev lord; the thought crossed his mind to draw blade and fight his way out as best he could. But another glance at the stern faces of the henchmen gave him only more cause for dismay.
'My lord,' Taran said firmly, 'I speak the truth. There were no giants, but my companion and myself, and a farmer who fought beside us.'
'No giants?' shouted Goryon. 'But more insults!' He stamped his foot as if the turf itself had given him some impertinence. 'You call my men liars? As well call me one!'
'My lord,' Taran began again, bowing deeply, for it was growing clear to him that Goryon's touchy honor could scarcely allow the cantrev lord to believe an account of simple horse stealing; and there was, Taran realized, even for the border-band themselves, considerably more honor in overcoming giants than in robbing Assistant Pig- Keepers. 'I call no man liar and your men spoke the truth. The truth,' he added, 'as they saw it.'
'Insolence!' cried Goryon. 'The truth as it is! There were giants, monsters, uprooted oaks. My men were well- rewarded for their valor, but you shall have a beating for your impudence!'
'What I believe, my lord, is this,' Taran went on, choosing his words carefully, since all he had thus far managed to say Goryon had turned into one kind of insult or another. 'The sun was low and our shadows made our number seem twice as great. Indeed, your men saw double what we truly were.
'As for giants,' Taran hurried on before the cantrev lord could cry out against another impertinence, 'again, the
