from the hills nearby and a white pig accompanied them.

'I hastened to retrace my steps. By then, Hen Wen sensed I was close at hand. When she ran from you,' Gwydion said to Taran, 'she ran not in terror but to find me. What I learned from her was more important than I suspected, and I understood why Arawn's champion sought her desperately. He, too, realized she knew the one thing that could destroy him.'

'What was that?' Taran asked urgently.

'She knew the Horned King's secret name.'

'His name?' Taran cried in astonishment. 'I never realized a name could be so powerful.'

'Yes,' Gwydion answered. 'Once you have courage to look upon evil, seeing it for what it is and naming it by its true name, it is powerless against you, and you can destroy it. Yet, with all my understanding,'' he said, reaching down and scratching the white pig's ear, 'I could not have discovered the Horned King's name without Hen Wen.

'Hen Wen told me this secret in the forest. I had no need of letter sticks or tomes of enchantment, for we could speak as one heart and mind to another. The gwythaint, circling overhead, led me to the Horned King. The rest you know.'

'Where is the gwythaint now?' asked Taran.

Gwydion shook his head. 'I do not know. But I doubt she will ever return to Annuvin, for Arawn would rend her to pieces once he learned what she had done. I only know she has repaid your kindness in the fullest measure.

'Rest now,' Gwydion said. 'Later, we shall speak of happier things.'

'Lord Gwydion,' Eilonwy called, as he rose to leave, 'what was the Horned King's secret name?'

Gwydion's lined face broke into a smile. 'It must remain a secret,' he said, then patted the girl gently on the cheek. 'But I assure you, it was not half as pretty as your own.'

A FEW DAYS AFTERWARDS, when Taran had regained strength enough to walk unaided, Gwydion accompanied him through Caer Dathyl. Standing high on a hill, the fortress alone was big enough to hold several Caer Dallbens. Taran saw armorers' shops, stables for the steeds of warrior, breweries, weaving rooms. Cottages clustered in the valleys below, and clear streams ran golden in the sunlight. Later, Gwydion summoned all the companions to the great hall of Caer Dathyl, and there, amid banners and hedges of spears, they received the gratitude of King Math Son of Mathonwy, ruler of the House of Don. The white-bearded monarch, who looked as old as Dallben and as testy, was even more talkative than Eilonwy. But when at last he had finished one of the longest speeches Taran had ever heard, the companions bowed, and a guard of honor bore King Math from the hall on a litter draped with cloth of gold. As Taran and his friends were about to take their leave, Gwydion called to them.

'These are small gifts for great valor,' he said. 'But it is in my power to bestow them, which I do with a glad heart, and with hope that you will treasure them not so much for their value as for the sake of remembrance.

'To Fflewddur Fflam shall be given one harp string. Though all his others break, this shall forever hold, regardless of how many gallant extravagances he may put on it. And its tone shall be the truest and most beautiful.

'To Doli of the Fair Folk shall be granted the power of invisibility, so long as he choose to retain it.

'To faithful and valiant Gurgi shall be given a wallet of food which shall be always full. Guard it well; it is one of the treasures of Prydain.

'To Eilonwy of the House of Llyr shall be given a ring of gold set with a gem carved by the ancient craftsmen of the Fair Folk. It is precious; but to me, her friendship is even more precious.

'And to Taran of Caer Dallben…' Here, Gwydion paused. 'The choice of his reward has been the most difficult of all.'

'I ask no reward,' Taran said. 'I want no friend to repay me for what I did willingly, out of friendship and for my own honor.'

Gwydion smiled. 'Taran of Caer Dallben,' he said, 'you are still as touchy and headstrong as ever. Believe that I know what you yearn for in your heart. The dreams of heroism, of worth, of achievement are noble ones; but you, not I, must make them come true. Ask me whatever else, and I shall grant it.'

Taran bowed his head. 'In spite of all that has befallen me, I have come to love the valleys and mountains of your northern lands. But my thoughts have turned more and more to Caer Dallben. I long to be home.'

Gwydion nodded. 'So it shall be.'

Chapter 20

Welcomes

THE JOURNEY TO CAER DALLBEN was swift and unhindered, for the lords of the southern cantrevs, their power broken, had slunk back each to his own tribe throne. Taran and his companions, with Gwydion himself leading, rode south through the valley of Ystrad. Eilonwy, who had heard so much of Taran's talk of Coll and Dallben, would not be denied a visit, and she, too, rode with them. Gwydion had given each of the companions a handsome steed; to Taran he had given the finest: the gray, silver-maned stallion, Melynlas, of the lineage of Melyngar and as swift. Hen Wen rode triumphantly on a horse-litter, looking intensely pleased with herself.

Caer Dallben had never seen so joyous a welcome? though by this time Taran was not positive about what Dallben had or had not seen? with such feasting that even Gurgi had his fill for once. Coll embraced Taran, who was amazed that such a hero would deign to remember an Assistant Pig-Keeper, as well as Eilonwy, Hen Wen, and anyone else he could get his hands on; his face beamed like a winter fire and his bald crown glowed with delight.

Dallben interrupted his meditations to be present at the feast; though soon after the festivities, he withdrew to his chamber and was not seen for some time. Later, he and Gwydion spent several hours alone, for there were important matters Gwydion would reveal only to the old enchanter.

Gurgi, making himself completely at home, snored under a pile of hay in the barn. While Fflewddur and Doli went off exploring, Taran showed Eilonwy Hen Wen's enclosure, where the pig chuckled and grunted as happily as before.

'So this is where it all began,' Eilonwy said. 'I don't want to sound critical, but I don't think you should have had all that trouble keeping her in. Caer Dallben is as lovely as you said, and you should be glad to be home,' she went on. 'It's like suddenly remembering where you put something you've been looking for.'

'Yes, I suppose it is,' Taran said, leaning on the railing and examining it closely.

'What will you do now?' asked Eilonwy. 'I expect you'll go back to Assistant Pig-Keeping.'

Without looking up, Taran nodded. 'Eilonwy,' he said, with hesitation, 'I was hoping? I mean, I was wondering…'

Before he could finish, Coll came hurrying up and whispered that Dallben would like to see him privately.

'Eilonwy?' Taran began again, then stopped abruptly and strode off to the cottage.

When he entered the chamber, Dallben was writing with a great quill in The Book of Three. As soon as he saw Taran, he shut the volume quickly and put it aside.

'Well, now,' Dallben said, 'I should like the two of us to speak quietly to each other. First, I am interested to learn what you think of being a hero. I daresay you feel rather proud of yourself. Although,' he added, 'I do not gain that impression from your face.'

'I have no just cause for pride,' Taran said, taking his usual place on the familiar bench. 'It was Gwydion who destroyed the Horned King, and Hen Wen helped him do it. But Gurgi, not I, found her. Doli and Fflewddur fought gloriously while I was wounded by a sword I had no right to draw. And Eilonwy was the one who took the sword from the barrow in the first place. As for me, what I mostly did was make mistakes.'

'My, my,' said Dallben, 'those are complaints enough to dampen the merriest feast. Though what you say may be true, you have cause for a certain pride nevertheless. It was you who held the companions together and led them. You did what you set out to do, and Hen Wen is safely back with us. If you made mistakes, you recognize them. As I told you, there are times when the seeking counts more than the finding.

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