Taran Wanderer

"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 long shadows of sunset gave us such height that any man could mistake our size."

"The oak-tree cudgel," Lord Goryon began.

"The farmer bore a stout oaken staff," Taran said. "His arm was strong, his blows quick, as two of your men had good reason to know. He smote with such a mighty hand, small wonder they felt a tree had fallen on them."

Lord Goryon said nothing for a moment, but sucked a tooth and rubbed his bristling beard. "What of the monster? A raving, ferocious creature they saw with their own eyes?"

"The monster stands before you," Taran answered, pointing to Gurgi. "He has long been my companion. I know him to be gentle, but the fiercest foe when roused."

"He is Gurgi! Yes, yes!" Gurgi shouted. "Bold, clever, and fierce to fight for kindly master!" With this he bared his teeth, shook his hairy arms, and yelled so frightfully that Goryon and his henchmen drew backward a pace.

The face of the cantrev lord had begun to furrow in deep perplexity. He shifted his bulk from one foot to another and glared at Taran. "Shadows!" he growled. "You mean to shadow the bravery of those who serve me. Another insult…"

"If your warriors believed they had seen what they claimed," Taran said, "and fought accordingly, their bravery is no less. Indeed," he added, half under his breath, "it is every bit as great as their truthfulness."

"These are no more than words," interrupted the Master of Horse. "Show me deeds. There is no creature on four hooves that I cannot ride, save this one. You, churl, will you dare to mount?"

For answer, Taran swung quickly into the saddle. Melynlas whinnied, pawed the ground, then stood calmly. Lord Goryon choked with amazement, and the Master of Horse stared in disbelief. A surprised murmur rose from Goryon's henchmen, but Taran heard a rough laugh as one of them called, "So ho, Goryon! A lout rides a steed a lord has not mastered, and takes your horse and honor both!"

Taran thought he had seen a faint flicker of relief in Goryon's bruised face, as though he were not altogether displeased to avoid riding Melynlas, but at the henchman's words the cantrev lord's features began to darken furiously.

"Not so!" Taran hastily cried out to the circle of men. "Would you have your liege lord ride a pig-keeper's nag? Is that fitting to his honor?" He turned now to Goryon, for a bold thought had come to him. "And yet, my lord, were you to take him as a gift from me…"

"What?" shouted Goryon at the top of his voice, his face turning livid. "Insults! Impertinence! Insolence! How dare you! I take no gifts from pig-keepers! Nor will I lower myself to mount the beast again." He flung up an arm. "Begone! Out of my sight― your nag, your monster, and his pony along with you!"

Goryon snapped his jaws shut and said no more. Gurgi's pony was led from the stable, and under the eyes of the cantrev lord and his henchmen the two companions passed unhindered through the gate.

Taran rode slowly, head high, with all the assurance he could muster. But once out of sight of the stronghold, the companions clapped heels into their horses' flanks and galloped for dear life.

"OH, WISDOM THAT WINS horses from prideful lord!" Gurgi cried, when they had ridden far enough to be safe from any change of heart on the part of Goryon. "Even Gurgi could not have been so clever. Oh, he wishes to be wise as kindly master, but his poor tender head has no skill in such thinkings!"

"My wisdom?" Taran laughed. "Barely enough to make up for losing Melynlas in the first place." He scanned the valley anxiously. Night was falling and he had hoped by this time to have come upon a farmhold where they might shelter, for the encounter with Goryon's border-band had given him no wish to learn what others might be roving the hills. But he saw neither cottage nor hut, and so pressed on through the purpling dusk.

Lights flared in a clearing ahead, and Taran reined Melynlas to a halt near a stronghold much like Lord Goryon's. But here torches blazed at every corner of the palisade, from sockets set high on either side of the gate, even at the rooftree of the Great Hall, as if in token of feasting and revelry within.

"Dare we stop here?" Taran said. "If this cantrev lord shows us Goryon's courtesy, we'd sleep sounder in a gwythaint's nest." Nevertheless, the hope of a comfortable bed and the torches' inviting glow made his weariness weigh all the heavier. He hesitated a moment, then urged Melynlas closer to the gate.