Chapter 20
The Gift
THEY WERE HOME AGAIN. Gwydion had led the companions westward to the coast where the golden ships waited. From there, with Kaw proudly perched on the highest mast, the great vessels with their gleaming sails bore them to Avren harbor. Word of Arawn's destruction had spread swiftly; and even as the companions disembarked, many cantrev lords and their battle hosts gathered to follow the Sons of Don, to do homage to King Gwydion, and to cry greetings to the Commot folk and Taran Wanderer. Gurgi unfurled what remained of the banner of the White Pig and raised it triumphantly.
Yet Gwydion had been strangely silent. And Taran, as, the little farm came into sight, felt more heartache than joy. The winter had broken; thawing earth had begun to stir, and the first, hardly visible traces of green touched the hills like a faint mist. But Taran's eyes went to Coll's empty garden, and he grieved afresh for the stout grower of turnips, far distant in his lonely resting place.
Dallben hobbled out to greet them. The enchanter's face had grown even more deeply lined, his brow seemed fragile, the wrinkled skin almost transparent. Seeing him, Taran sensed that Dallben already knew Coll would not return. Eilonwy ran to his outstretched arms. Taran, leaping from the back of Melynlas, strode after her. Kaw flapped his wings and gabbled at the top of his voice. Fflewddur, Doli, and Gurgi, who looked more than ever patchy and scraggly, hastened to add their greetings, attempting to tell Dallben, all at the same time, what had befallen them.
Hen Wen was squealing, grunting, and wheezing, and very nearly climbing over the bars of the pen. As Taran jumped into the enclosure to fling his arms about the delighted pig, he suddenly heard shrill squeakings and his jaw dropped in surprise.
Eilonwy, who had hurried to the enclosure, gave a joyful cry. 'Piglets!'
Six small pigs, five white as Hen Wen and one black stood squealing on their hind legs beside their mother. Hen Wen chuckled and grunted proudly.
'We have had visitors,' said Dallben. 'One of them a very handsome boar. During the winter, when there was much stirring among the forest creatures, he came seeking food and shelter, and found Caer Dallben more to his liking than the woods. He is roaming about somewhere now; for he is still a little wild and unused to so many new arrivals.'
'Great Belin!' cried Fflewddur. 'Seven oracular pigs! Taran, my friend, your tasks will be harder than they were in the Hills of Bran-Galedd.'
Dallben shook his head. 'Sturdy and healthy they are, and as fine a litter as I have seen, but their powers are no greater than those of any other pig? which should be quite enough to satisfy them. Hen Wen's own gift began to fade when the letter sticks shattered and now is gone past recall. It is for the best; such power is a heavy burden, for men as well as pigs, and I daresay she is much happier now.'
For two days, the companions rested, grateful and content to be together in the peacefulness of the little farm. The sky had never seemed clearer, filled with happier promise of spring, or greater joy. King Smoit had arrived with his guard of honor, and through a night's feasting the cottage rang with merriment.
Next day Dallben summoned the companions to his chamber, where Gwydion and Taliesin already waited. He peered deeply and kindly at all gathered there, and when he spoke his voice was gentle.
'These have been days of welcome,' he said, 'but also days of farewell.'
A questioning murmur rose from the companions. Taran, with alarm, looked searchingly at Dallben. Fflewddur, however, clapped a hand to his sword and exclaimed, 'I knew it would be so! What task remains to be done? Have the gwythaints returned? Is a band of Huntsmen still abroad? Have no fears! A Fflam stands ready!'
Gwydion smiled sadly at the excited bard. 'Not so, gallant friend. Like the Huntsmen, the gwythaints have been destroyed. Yet it is true: one task remains. The Sons of Don, their kinsmen and kinswomen, must board the golden ships and set sail for the Summer Country, the land from which we came.'
Taran turned to Gwydion as though he had not grasped the High King's words. 'How then,' he quickly asked, not daring to believe he had heard aright, 'the Sons of Don leave Prydain? Must you sail now? To what purpose? How soon shall you return? Shall you not first rejoice in your victory?'
'Our victory is itself the reason for our voyage;' Gwydion answered. 'This is a destiny long ago laid upon us: When the Lord of Annuvin shall be overcome, then must the Sons of Don depart forever from Prydain.'
'No!' Eilonwy protested. 'Not now, of all times!'
'We cannot turn from this ancient destiny,' Gwydion replied. 'King Fflewddur Fflam, too, must join us, for he is kin to the House of Don.'
The bard's face filled with distress. 'A Fflam is grateful,' he began, 'and under ordinary circumstances I should look forward to a sea voyage. But I'm quite content to stay in my own realm. Indeed, dreary though it is, I've found myself rather missing it.'
Taliesin spoke then. 'It is not for you to choose, Son of Godo. But know that the Summer Country is a fair land, fairer even than Prydain, and one where all heart's desires are granted. Llyan shall be with you. A new harp you shall have. I myself shall teach you the playing of it, and you shall learn all the lore of the bards. Your heart has always been the heart of a true bard, Fflewddur Fflam. Until now, it was unready. Have you given up that which you loved most for the sake of your companions? The harp that awaits you shall be all the more precious, and its strings shall never break.
'Know this, too,' Taliesin added. 'All men born must die, save those who dwell in the Summer Country. It is a land without strife or suffering, where even death itself is unknown.'
'There is yet another destiny laid upon us,' Dallben said. 'As the Sons of Don must return to their own land, so must there come an end to my own powers. I have long pondered the message Hen Wen's last letter stick might have given us. It is clear to me now why the ash rods shattered. They could not with stand such a prophecy, which could only have been this: Not only shall the flame of Dyrnwyn be quenched and its power vanish, but all enchantments shall pass away, and men unaided guide their own destiny.
'I, too, voyage to the Summer Country,' Dallben continued. 'I do so with sorrow but with even greater joy. I am an old man and weary, and for me there shall be rest and a laying down of burdens which have grown all too heavy upon my shoulders.
'Doli, alas, must return to the realm of the Fair Folk, and so must Kaw,' the enchanter went on. 'The wayposts are being abandoned. King Eiddileg will soon command the barring of all passages into his kingdom, just as Medwyn has already closed his valley forever to the race of men, allowing only the animals to find their way to him.'
Doli bowed his head. 'Humph!' he snorted. 'It's about time to stop dealing with mortals. Only leads to trouble. Yes, I'll be glad enough to go back. I've had my fill of good-old-Doli this and good-old-Doli that, and good-old-Doli would you mind turning invisible just once more!' The dwarf strove to look as furious as he could, but there were tears in his bright red eyes.
'Even the Princess Eilonwy Daughter of Angharad must voyage to the Summer Country,' Dallben said. 'So it must be,' he went on, as Eilonwy gasped in disbelief. 'At Caer Colur, the Princess gave up only the usage of her magical powers. They are still within her, as they have been handed down to all daughters of the House of Llyr. Therefore must she depart. However,' he went on quickly, before Eilonwy could interrupt, 'there are others who have well-served the Sons of Don: faithful Gurgi; Hen Wen, too, in her own fashion; and Taran of Caer Dallben. It is their reward that they may journey with us.'
'Yes, yes!' shouted Gurgi. 'All go to land of no sighings and no dyings!' He bounded joyously and waved his arms in the air, shedding a good portion of what hair remained to him. 'Yes, oh yes! All together forever! And Gurgi, too, will find what he seeks. Wisdom for his poor tender head!'
Taran's heart leaped as he cried out Eilonwy's name and hastened to the side of the Princess to take her in his arms. 'We shall not part again. In the Summer Country we shall be wed?' He stopped short. 'If? if that is your wish. If you will wed an Assistant Pig-Keeper.'
'Well, indeed,' replied Eilonwy, 'I wondered if you'd ever get round to asking. Of course I will, and if you'd given half a thought to the question you'd have already known my answer.'
Taran's head still spun from the enchanter's tidings, and he turned to Dallben. 'Can this be true? That Eilonwy
