The High King

Prince of Don. Once you scorned to share a kingdom with me. Scorn me again to your own loss.'

'I do not scorn you,' Gwydion said. 'I only urge you to accept Dallben's protection. Stay here in safety. Among all of us, your hope of finding the sword is the least. Arawn's hatred of you can be no less than yours of him. He or his servants would slay you at sight, even before you set foot in Annuvin. No, Achren, what you offer is not possible.' He thought a moment. 'There may be another way to learn how Dyrnwyn shall be found.'

Gwydion turned to Dallben, but the enchanter sorrowfully shook his head.

'Alas,' Dallben said, 'The Book of Three cannot tell us what we most need to know. I have searched carefully, every page, to understand its hidden meanings. They are dark, even to me. Fetch the letter sticks,' the enchanter said to Coll. 'Hen Wen alone can help us.'

FROM HER ENCLOSURE the white pig watched the silent procession. On his bony shoulders Dallben bore the letter sticks, the ash-wood rods carved with ancient symbols. Glew, interested only in the provisions of the scullery, remained behind, as did Gurgi, who well remembered the former giant and chose to keep an eye on him. Achren had spoken no further, but hooded her face and sat motionless in the cottage.

Usually, at the sight of Taran, the oracular pig would squeal joyously and trot to the railing to have, her chin scratched. Now she cowered in a far corner of the pen, her little eyes wide and her cheeks trembling. As Dallben entered the enclosure and planted the letter sticks upright in the earth, Hen Wen snuffled and crouched closer against the bars.

Dallben, murmuring inaudibly, moved to stand beside the ash-wood rods. Outside the enclosure, the companions waited. Hen Wen whimpered and did not stir.

'What does she fear?' Eilonwy whispered. Taran made no answer; his eyes were fixed on the aged enchanter in his wind-whipped robe, on the letter sticks, and the unmoving form of Hen Wen. Against the dull sky they seemed to him frozen together in their own moment, far beyond the silent watchers. This was the first time Taran had seen the enchanter seek a prophecy from the oracular pig. Of Dallben's powers he could only guess; but he knew Hen Wen, and knew she was too terrified to move. He waited what felt an age. Even Rhun sensed something amiss; the King of Mona's cheerful face was darkly clouded.

Dallben glanced uneasily at Gwydion. 'Never before has Hen Wen refused to answer when the letter sticks were shown her.'

Again he murmured words Taran could not distinguish. The oracular pig shuddered violently, shut her eyes, and sank her head between her stubby trotters.

'Perhaps a few notes on my harp?' Fflewddur suggested. 'I've had excellent success…'

The enchanter motioned the bard to be silent. Once more he spoke, softly yet commandingly. Hen Wen shrank into herself and moaned as though in pain.

'Her fear blinds her powers,' Dallben said gravely. 'Even my spells do not reach her. I have failed.'

Despair filled the faces of the watching companions.

Gwydion bowed his head; and his eyes were deeply troubled. 'We, too, shall fail,' he said, 'if we do not learn whatever she can tell us.'

Quickly and without a word Taran climbed the railing, walked steadily toward the frightened pig, and dropped to his knees beside her. He scratched her chin and gently stroked her neck. 'Don't be afraid, Hen. Nothing will harm you here.'

Dallben, surprised, started forward, then halted. Hearing Taran's voice, the pig had cautiously opened one eye.

Her snout twitched, she raised her head slightly and gave a faint 'Hwoinch!'

'Hen, listen to me,' Taran pleaded, 'I have no power to command you. But we need your help, all of us who love you.'

Taran spoke on; as he did, the oracular pig ceased her trembling. Though she did not attempt to rise, Hen Wen grunted fondly, wheezed, and made affectionate muttering sounds in her throat. She blinked her eyes and her wide face seemed nearly to grin.

'Tell us, Hen,' Taran urged. 'Please. Tell us what you can.'

Hen Wen moved uneasily. Slowly she climbed to her feet. The white pig snorted and glanced at the letter sticks. Step by step, on her short legs, she moved closer to them.

The enchanter nodded to Taran. 'Well done,' he murmured. 'This day, the power of an Assistant Pig-Keeper is greater than my own.'

As Taran stared, not daring to speak, Hen Wen paused at the first rod. Still hesitant, she pointed with her snout at one of the carved symbols, then at another. Dallben, watching intently, quickly wrote on a scrap of parchment the signs the oracular pig had indicated. Hen Wen continued a few moments, then suddenly left off and backed anxiously from the stick.

Dallben's face was grave. 'Can this be so?' he murmured, his voice filled with alarm. 'No…no. We must learn more than that.' He glanced at Taran.

'Please, Hen,' Taran whispered, coming to the side of the pig, who had begun to shudder again. 'Help us.'

Despite his words, Taran feared Hen Wen would turn away. She shook her head, squinted her eyes and grunted piteously. Nevertheless, at his pleading, she cautiously trotted to the second rod. There, in desperate haste, as if to make an end of it quickly, she pointed to other symbols.

The enchanter's hand trembled as he wrote. 'Now the third one,' he said urgently.

Hen Wen, stiff-legged, reared back and sank to her haunches. All of Taran's soothing words would not budge her for several moments. At last, however, she rose and more fearfully than ever trotted to the final ash-wood rod.

Even as Hen Wen approached and before she could point to the first letter, the ash-wood rods shook and swayed like living things. They twisted as though to uproot themselves, and with a sound that ripped the air like a thunder clap, they split, shattered, and fell to earth in splinters.

Hen Wen, squealing in terror, flung herself backwards and fled to a corner of the enclosure. As Taran hurried to her; Dallben bent, picked up the fragments of wood and studied them hopelessly.

'They are destroyed beyond repair, and useless now,' Dallben said in a heavy voice. 'The cause is dark to me, and Hen Wen's prophecy remains unfinished. Even so, I doubt its end could bode less ill than its beginning. She must have sensed this herself.'

The enchanter turned and walked slowly from the enclosure. Eilonwy had joined Taran, who strove to calm the terrified pig. Hen Wen still gasped and shook, and pressed her head between her forelegs.

'No wonder she didn't want to prophesy,' Eilonwy cried. 'And yet,' she added to Taran, 'Hen would have told nothing at all if it hadn't been for you.

Dallben, with the parchment in his hand, had gone to the side of Gwydion. Coll, Fflewddur, and King Rhun gathered anxiously around them. Sure that Hen Wen was unharmed and wanted only to be left in peace, Taran and Eilonwy hurried to the companions.

'Help! Oh, help!'

Yelling, waving his arms frantically, Gurgi raced across the turf. He dashed into their midst and pointed toward the stables.

'Gurgi could do nothing!' he cried. 'He tried, oh yes, but there were only smackings and whackings for his poor tender head! Gone!' Gurgi shouted. 'With fast and speedful gallopings! Wicked Queen is gone!'

Chapter 3 The Prophecy

THE COMPANIONS HASTENED to the stable. As Gurgi had told them, one of King Rhun's horses was missing. Of Achren, there was no trace.

'Let me saddle Melynlas,' Taran urged Gwydion. 'I shall try to overtake her.'

'She's going straight to Annuvin,' burst out Fflewddur. 'I never trusted that woman. Great Belin, who knows