'If I fail,' Taran said, 'how shall I send word to you? Should the Cauldron warriors reach Annuvin ahead of you, your plan cannot succeed and you must turn back.'
Gwydion shook his head. 'There can be no turning back, for there is no further hope. Should either of us fail, all our lives are forfeit.'
LLASSAR, HEVYDD, AND ALL the other Commot folk chose to follow Taran. With them were joined the surviving warriors of Fflewddur Fflam, and together they made the greater portion of Taran's band. To the surprise of the companions, Glew chose to ride with them.
The former giant had recovered from his fright, at least enough to regain much of his customary peevishness. He had, however, regained all of his appetite and demanded food in great quantity from Gurgi's wallet of provisions.
'I've had my fill of being dragged here and there by the scruff of the neck,' said Glew, licking his fingers, 'and now I'm either to be put on a ship or cast among a herd of horses. Very well, I shall take the latter, for at least it's not so wet and salty. But I assure you I would have agreed to neither, when I was a giant.
Fflewddur glowered at the former giant and spoke apart with Taran. 'It seems we're doomed, on top of all our other woes, to put up with that whining weasel at every step. And I can't help feeling that in the back of that puny little mind he's hoping somehow to feather his own nest.' The bard shook his head and gave Taran a sorrowful look. 'But are any nests left to feather? There's not a safe place even for Glew to hide his head.'
Gurgi had tied the banner of the White Pig to a new staff, but he sighed mournfully at the tattered emblem. 'Poor piggy!' he cried. 'None can see her now, for she is torn into threadings and shreddings!'
'I promise to sew another,' Eilonwy said. 'As soon as…' She stopped abruptly and said no more, as she climbed astride Lluagor. Taran saw her troubled glance. The Princess of Llyr would wait long, he feared, before her hands worked with an embroidery needle. And, unspoken but in his heart was the dread that none of them might see Caer Dallben again. At the end of their grim race, death might be the only prize.
Armed with spears and swords, the warriors were mounted and ready. With a last farewell to Gwydion, the companions rode westward from the hills.
IT WAS COLL'S JUDGMENT that the Cauldron-Born would march directly to Annuvin, following the straightest and shortest path. At the head of the column winding its way ,from the snowswept heights, Llassar rode beside Taran. The skill of the young shepherd eased their passage, and he guided them swiftly toward the lowlands, unseen by Pryderi's army which had begun to withdraw from the valley around Caer Dathyl.
For some days they journeyed, and Taran began to fear the retreating Cauldron-Born had outdistanced them. Nevertheless, they could do no more than press on as quickly as possible, southward now, passing through long stretches of sparse woodland.
It was Gurgi who first sighted the deathless warriors. The creature's face went gray with fright as he pointed to an expanse of rock-strewn plain. Glew blinked, choked, and could barely swallow the food he was munching. Eilonwy watched silently, and the bard gave a low whistle of dismay.
Taran's heart sank at the sight of the column moving like a long serpent over the flatlands. He turned questioningly to Coll. 'Can we hold them off at all?'
'A pebble can turn aside an avalanche,' said Coll, 'or a twig stem a flood.'
'I daresay,' muttered Fflewddur. 'What happens to the twig or pebble afterward I should rather not think about.'
Taran was about to signal the warriors to form for an attack, but Coll took his arm. 'Not yet, my boy,' he said. 'First, I would be sure of the path these creatures of Arawn mean to follow to Annuvin. If the twig is to do its work, it must be well placed.'
For the rest of that day and the morning of the next, the companions matched their own progress with the march of the Cauldron-Born, sometimes ahead, sometimes along their flank, but never losing sight of the deathless warriors. It seemed to Taran that the Cauldron-Born had slowed their pace. The dark column moved without faltering, but heavily, as though burdened. He spoke of this to Coll, who nodded in satisfaction.
'Their strength ebbs a little,' Coll said. 'Time works for us, but I think we must soon work for ourselves.'
They had reached a broad, winding belt of wasteland where grassless earth stretched away on either side as far as the eye could see. The dead ground was broken, rutted as though ill-plowed, slashed with deep ditches and gullies. No tree, no shrub rose from the dull red earth, and nowhere did Taran see the faintest sign that any growing thing had ever flourished there. He looked at it uneasily, chilled not only by the bitter wind but by the silence that hovered like frozen mist about the lifeless land.
He asked, in a low voice, 'What place is this?'
Coll grimaced. 'The Red Fallows, it is called now. At the moment,' he added wryly, 'I fear it is much the way my garden looks.'
'I have heard it spoken of,' Taran said, 'though I believed to be it no more than a traveler's tale.'
Coll shook his head. 'No traveler's tale, whatever. Men have long shunned it, yet once it was the fairest realm in Prydain. The land was such that all manner of things would grow, as if overnight. Grains, vegetables, fruits? why, in size and savor the apples from the orchards here would have made mine look like shriveled windfalls beside them. A prize it was, to be won and held, and many lords fought for its possession. But in the fighting over it, year after year, the hooves of steeds trampled the ground, the blood of warriors stained it. In time the land died, as did those who strove to claim it from their fellows, and soon its blight crept far beyond the battle grounds.' Coll sighed. 'I know this land, my boy, and it does not please me to see it again. In my younger days I, too, marched with the battle hosts, and left not a little of my own blood in the Fallows.'
'Will they never flourish?' Taran asked, looking with dismay at the wasted expanse. 'Prydain could be a rich land with the abundance they might bear. It would be a shame worse than bloodshed to leave these fields thus. Would the soil not yield again if it were labored well?'
'Who can say?' answered Coll. 'Perhaps. No man has tilled it for years long past. But for us now that is all by- the-by.' He gestured toward the heights rising sharply at the distant edge of the fields. 'The Red Fallows stretch along the Hills of Bran-Galedd, southwestward almost to Annuvin. From here it is the longest but easiest path to Arawn's realm, and if I judge aright the Cauldron-Born will follow it swiftly to their master.'
'We must not let them pass,' Taran replied. 'Here we must make our first stand and hinder them as best we can.' He glanced toward the heights. 'We must force them into the hills. Among rocks and broken ground, we might set snares or lure them into ambush. It is all we can hope to do.'
'Perhaps,' said Coll. 'Though before you choose, know this: the Hills of Bran-Galedd also give a path to Annuvin, and a shorter one. They rise sharper as they go westward and turn soon to steep crags. There stands Mount Dragon, the highest peak, guarding the Iron Portals of the Land of Death. It is a harsh passage, cruel and dangerous? more so for us than for the deathless Cauldron-Born. We can lose our lives. They cannot.'
Taran frowned anxiously, then said with a bitter laugh, 'Indeed, there is no happy choice, old friend. The path of the Red Fallows is easier but longer; the mountain way, harder and shorter!' He shook his head. 'I have not the wisdom to decide. Have you no counsel for me?'
'The choice must be yours, war leader,' answered Coll. 'Yet, as a grower of turnips and cabbages, I might say if you trust your strength, the mountains may be friend as much as foe.'
Taran smiled at him sorrowfully. 'Little trust do I put in the strength of an Assistant Pig-Keeper alone,' he said after a long moment, 'but much in the strength and wisdom of his companions. So be it. We must drive the Cauldron warriors into the hills.'
'Know this, too,' said Coll. 'If such is your choice, it must be done at this place and at all cost. Farther southward the Fallows widen, the plain grows broad and flat; and there is danger the Cauldron-Born may escape our reach if we fail here.'
Taran grinned. 'Now that is simple enough for an Assistant Pig-Keeper to understand.'
Taran rode back through the column of warriors to tell them of the plan they were to follow. Though he cautioned Eilonwy and Gurgi to hold themselves as far as possible from the fray, he could judge, with little difficulty, that the Princess of Llyr had no intention of heeding his warning. As for Taran himself, the decision he had taken lay
