, Lloyd Alexander Chronicles of Prydain 05 The High King 

[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

straight across the mountains and try to hold back the Cauldron-Born as they
turn northwest to Annuvin."
"Slim hope," Doli replied. "The Fair Folk can't venture that far.
It's forbidden land. That close to Arawn's realm, Fair Folk would die.
Gwystyl's waypost was nearest to the Land of Death, and you've seen what it
did to his digestion and disposition. The best we could do is to put you well
on your way. One of us might go with you," he added. "You can imagine who that
is. Good old Doli! I've spent so much time above ground with you humans that
being in Annuvin can't harm me.
"Yes, I'll go with you," Doli went on, scowling furiously. "I see
nothing else for it. Good old Doli! Sometimes I wish I didn't have such an
agreeable temper. Humph!"
Chapter 16
The Enchanter
LIKE A WEARY CHILD, the old man hunched over the bookstrewn table,
his head upon his arm. Across his bony shoulders he had flung a cloak; the
fire still flickered in the hearth, but the chill of this winter sank into him
more deeply than any other he could remember. At his feet, Hen Wen stirred
restlessly and whimpered in a high, plaintive voice. Dallben, who was neither
altogether asleep nor awake, reached down a frail hand and gently scratched
her ear.
The pig would not be calmed. Her pink snout twitched, she snorted
and muttered unhappily and tried to hide her head in the folds of his robe.
The enchanter at last roused himself.
Page 130
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
"What is it, Hen? Is our time upon us?" He gave the pig a reassuring
pat and rose stiffly from the wooden stool. "Tut, it is a moment to pass, no
more than that, whatever the outcome."
Without haste he took up a long ash-wood staff and, leaning on it,
hobbled from the chamber. Hen Wen trotted at his heels. At the cottage door,
he pulled the cloak tighter about him and stepped into the night. The moon was
at its full, riding distant in a deep sky. Dallben stood, listening carefully.
To another's ears, the little farm would have seemed silent as the moon
itself, but the old enchanter, his brow furrowed, his eyes half closed, nodded
his head. "You are right, Hen," he murmured. "I hear them now. But they are
still far. What then," he added, with a wrinkled smile, "must I wait long for
them and freeze the little marrow left in my bones?"
Nevertheless, he did not return within the cottage but moved a few
paces across the dooryard. His eyes; which had been heavy with drowsiness,
grew bright as ice crystals. He peered sharply past the leafless trees of the
orchard, as though to see into the shadows entwining the circling forest like
black ivy tendrils. Hen Wen stayed behind, sitting uneasily on her haunches
and watching the enchanter with much concern on her broad, bristly face.
"I should say there are twenty of them," Dallben remarked, then
added wryly, "I do not know whether to be insulted or relieved. Only twenty?
It is a paltry number. Yet more than that would be too cumbersome for the long
journey, especially through the fighting in the Valley of Ystrad. No, twenty
would be deemed ample and well chosen."
For some time the old man stood quietly and patiently. At last,
through the clear air, a faint sound of hoofbeats grew more insistent, then
stopped, as if the riders had dismounted and were walking their steeds.
Against the dark tangle of trees where the forest rose at the edge
of the stubble field, the darting shapes could have been no more than shadows
cast by the bushes. Dallben straightened, raised his head, and blew out his
breath as gently as if he were puffing at thistledown.
In an instant a biting gale shrieked across the field. The farm was
calm, but the wind ripped with the force of a thousand swords into the forest,
where the trees clashed and rattled. Horses whinnied, men shouted as branches
suddenly lashed against them. The gale beat against the warriors, who flung up
their arms to shield themselves from it.
Still, the war band pressed on, struggling through the wind whipped
Page 131
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
forest and at last gaining the stubble field. At the onset of the gale, Hen
Wen, squealing fearfully, had turned tail and dashed into the cottage. Dallben
raised a hand and the wind died as quickly as it had risen. Frowning, the old
man smote his staff on the frozen turf.
Deep thunder muttered, the ground shuddered; and the field heaved
like a restless sea. The warriors staggered and lost their footing, and among
the attackers many fled to the safety of the forest, hastening to escape,
fearful the earth itself might open and swallow them. The rest, urging each
other on, drew their swords and stumbled across the field, racing toward the
cottage.
With some vexation Dallben thrust out his arm with fingers spread as
though he were casting pebbles into a pond. From his hand a crimson flame
spurted and stretched like a fiery lash, in blinding streaks against the black
sky.
The warriors cried out as ropes of crackling flame caught at them
and twined about their arms and legs. The horses broke loose and galloped
madly into the woods. The attackers threw down their weapons and tore
frantically at their cloaks and jackets. Howling in pain and terror, the men
reeled and plunged in full flight back to the forest.
The flames vanished. Dallben, about to turn away, glimpsed one
figure which still pressed across the empty field. Alarmed, the old man
gripped his staff and hobbled as quickly as he could into the cottage. The
warrior was striding past the stables and into the dooryard. With footfalls
pounding behind him, Dallben hurried across the threshold, but the old man had
no sooner gained the refuge of his chamber than the warrior burst through the
doorway. Dallben spun about to face his assailant.
"Beware!" cried the enchanter. "Beware! Take no step closer."
Dallben had drawn himself up to his full height, his eyes flashed,
and his voice rang with such a commanding tone that the warrior hesitated. The
man's hood had fallen back and the firelight played over the golden hair and
proud features of Pryderi Son of Pwyll.
Dallben's eyes never faltered. "I have long awaited you, King of the [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
  • zanotowane.pl
  • doc.pisz.pl
  • pdf.pisz.pl
  • osy.pev.pl