The High King

Doli nodded curtly. "We're badly delayed, no matter what. But if you want my advice, I say turn around and go back. Make our way to the Fallows above ground as best we can. The whole mine is weakened now; there'll be more cave-ins, or I'll miss my guess. Next time we may not be so lucky."

"Lucky!" moaned the bard, who had slumped down on a rock. He put his head in his hands. "Days wasted! The Cauldron-Born will be in Annuvin be­fore we have another chance at them. The only luck that would suit me now would be to see that greedy weasel under a pile of his own worthless gems!"

Glew, meanwhile, had ventured to crawl from under one of the remaining platforms. His garments were torn, his pudgy face smeared with dust.

"Days wasted?" he wailed. "Cauldron-Born? Blocked up tunnels? But has any one of you stopped to consider I've just lost a fortune? My gems are gone, all of them, and you don't give it a second thought. I call that selfish. Selfish! There's no other word for it."

Chapter 14 Daylight

THE PRINCESS EILONWY was doubly angry. First, she was lost; second, she was a prisoner. Swept away from Taran and Fflewddur during the attack, she would surely have fallen among the slain had not Gurgi dragged her from the fray. When the assault had shifted beyond them, she had stumbled blindly, with Gurgi at her side, over the darkening crags. At nightfall, when they could search no longer for Taran, Gurgi had found a shallow cave where they crouched and shivered until first light. During the next day, as the two companions sought Taran's trail, the marauders had suddenly leaped upon them.

Biting, kicking, and scratching, Eilonwy struggled vainly to free herself from the burly man who had seized her. Another had flung Gurgi to the ground and, with dagger drawn, set his knee in the small of the hapless creature's back. In a trice the two companions were bound hand and foot and hoisted like mealsacks on their assailants' shoulders. Eilonwy had no idea of the direction in which she was being carried, but in a little while she glimpsed a campfire flickering through the gathering dusk and hunched around it a ruffianly band of a dozen or more.

The man squatting nearest the fire looked up. Garbed in dirty sheepskins and a rough cloak, he was heavy-faced and stubble-bearded, his long hair yellowish and tangled.

"I sent you for game, not prisoners," he called out hoarsely. "What have you found?"

"Lean pickings," answered Eilonwy's captor, dropping his furious burden to the turf beside Gurgi. "A brace of churls, for what they may be worth."

"Nothing, very likely." The heavy-faced man spat in the fire. "You should have slit their gullets and spared yourself the burden." He climbed to his feet and strode to the companions. With a grimy, broken-nailed hand he seized Eilonwy by the throat as if he meant to throttle her. "Who are you, boy?" he demanded in a grating voice. His cold blue eyes narrowed. "Who do you serve? What ransom will you bring? Answer quickly when Dorath asks a question."

At the sound of the name Eilonwy caught her breath. Taran had spoken of Dorath. From Gurgi's terrified whimpering she judged he, too, had recognized the outlaw.

"Answer!" Dorath cried with a curse. He struck Eilonwy across the face. The girl stumbled and fell, her head singing from the blow. The golden sphere dropped from her jacket. Eilonwy strained at her bonds and tried to fling herself on top of the bau­ble. A booted foot kicked it from her. Dorath bent and snatched up the sphere, turning it curiously in the firelight.

"What is it?" questioned one of the ruffians, pressing closer to gape at the bauble.

"Gold it is," said another. "Come, Dorath, chop the thing apart and share it out."

"Hands off, you swine," Dorath growled. He thrust the bauble into his sheepskin. Mutters of protest rose from the band, but Dorath silenced them with a glance. He bent down to Eilonwy. "Where did you steal such a trinket, you young thief. Will you keep your head on your shoulders? Then tell me where we can find more treasure like this."

Eilonwy, though furious, kept silent.

Dorath grinned. "You will speak soon enough," he said, "and only wish you had spoken earlier. First, let me see if your fellow has a tongue looser than yours."

Gurgi, teeth chattering violently, had sunk his head deep into his sheepskin coat and tightly hunched his shoulders.

"Do you play turtle with me?" Dorath cried with a harsh laugh. He knotted his thick fingers in Gurgi's hair and jerked the creature's head upright. "Small wonder you hide your face! It's ugly as ever I've seen!"

Dorath stopped suddenly and squinted closer. "Ugly it is, and not one easily forgotten. So ho! We are old friends, you and I. You share my hospitality once more! When last we met, you were comrade to a pig-keeper." He turned his glance on Eilonwy. "But this is not the swineherd."