Taran Wanderer

Chapter 5 A Judgment

TARAN SCARMBLED DOWN the rocks jutting beside the high cascade. In a pool hammered into white spray he could hardly make out Smoit's burly form spinning in the eddies. Heedless of the pounding water, Taran pitched through the falls and sprang into the pool. He groped for Smoit's belt and seized it at last. Battling the whirlpool and nearly drowning himself with his own efforts, Taran painfully strove to drag the half-conscious King into the shallows.

Smoit was bleeding heavily from the forehead and his ruddy face had gone chalky pale. Taran tugged at the King's waterlogged bulk, hauling him safely from the rolling waters. In another moment Gurgi and Fflewddur were beside him, helping to drag the King ashore. Smoit, like a beached whale, collapsed on the bank.

Gurgi, moaning anxiously, loosened the King's garments, while Taran and the bard hastily saw to Smoit's injuries.

"He can count himself lucky he's only cracked his skull and half his ribs," Fflewddur said. "Another man would have been snapped in two. But we're in a fine pickle," he added under his breath to Taran, glancing at the warriors who had come to gather near the unconscious Smoit. "He'll not lay Gast or Goryon by the heels now. He needs more healing than we can give. We'd best take him to Caer Cadarn."

Taran shook his head. He remembered Smoit's words about the neighboring cantrev lords who would seize the opportunity to attack. It was in his mind, too, that finding Cornillo could best bring Gast and Goryon to terms and thus end their battle. But his thoughts were as tangled as Orddu's weaving and he fervently wished himself in the place of Smoit, whose unconsciousness at that moment seemed a most enviable state.

"Aeddan's farmhold is closer," Taran said. "We'll bring him there and Gurgi shall stay with him. You and I must seek out Gast and Goryon and do what we can to stop their quarrel. As for Cornillo and the herd, I doubt we may hope to find them."

The companions, tearing their cloaks into strips, set about binding up Smoit's wounds. The King's eyelids fluttered and he groaned loudly.

"Give me to eat!" gasped Smoit. "I may be half-drowned, but I'll not be half-starved." He put a hand on Taran's shoulder. "Good lad, good lad. You've saved my life. Another moment and I'd have been beaten into a pudding. Claim any favor, it is yours."

"I ask none," Taran replied, knotting. the bandages around Smoit's huge chest. "Alas," he murmured, "what I most want, none can grant."

"No matter," panted Smoit. "What you wish of me, you shall have."

"Sire, you cannot travel far," Taran began as Smoit tried painfully to climb to his feet. "Give us leave to ride with your warriors and―"

"Kind master! Hear!" Gurgi called excitedly. "Hear with listenings!"

Llyan, too, had caught some sound, for her ears cupped forward and her whiskers twitched.

"It's my gizzard calling for meat and drink!" cried Smoit. "Loud it must be, for I'm empty as a drum!"

"No, no," shouted Gurgi, seizing Taran's arm and drawing him past the trees along the riverside. "Gurgi hears no thrummings and drummings but cooings and mooings!"

Leaning on the bard, Smoit stumbled after them. Gurgi had spoken the truth; the creature's sharp ears had not deceived him. Now Taran himself heard a faint lowing. Gurgi raced toward the sound. Beyond the trees the land dipped into a shady dell watered by a streamlet. Taran cried aloud. There stood the herd, grazing calmly around Cornillo.

"My pulse!" bellowed Smoit, so loudly that a dozen horned heads turned and stared as alarmed as if some strange new kind of bull had burst into their quiet pasture.

"Great Belin!" cried Fflewddur. "Cornillo's led them all to safety. She's wiser than either of her masters!"

Cornillo raised her head as Taran hurried to her side. She blew out her breath gently and rolled her eyes in a look of long-suffering patience. Smoit, heedless of his grievous bruises, clapped his hands triumphantly and shouted at the top of his voice for his warriors.

"Sire, let us drive the herd to Aeddan's farm," Taran urged. "Your own hurts must be tended better than we've done."

"Drive them where you please, lad," answered Smoit. "My body and bones, we have them now! That will fetch Gast and Goryon to me at a gallop!" He summoned two horsemen, commanding them to bear a message to the cantrev lords. "Tell those two troublemakers where I'll await them," cried Smoit. "And tell each to call truce, for his cows are found!"

"And Gurgi found them!" shouted Gurgi, capering wildly. "Yes, yes! Bold, clever, sharp-eared Gurgi finds all that is lost, oh, yes!" He flung his hairy arms around himself and seemed close to bursting with pride and delight at his own deed. "Oh, bards will sing of clever Gurgi with rantings and chantings!"

"I'm sure they will, old friend," Taran said. "You've found the herd. But don't forget we still have Gast and Goryon to deal with― and there's only one Cornillo."

The cows were at first reluctant to quit the dell, but after much coaxing Taran was able to lead Cornillo along the valley pathways toward Aeddan's farm. The others followed her, lowing and tossing their horns; it was a strange procession that wended its way across the meadows and rolling hillocks. Smoit's warriors rode on either side of the herd, and the red-bearded King himself brandished a spear as if it were a drover's staff; Llyan padded after the cattle, alert for strays; and Gurgi perched proud as a shaggy rooster on Cornillo's back.

When Aeddan's but came in sight Taran galloped ahead calling to the farmer, but he had no sooner dismounted when the door burst open and he fell back, surprised. Aeddan stood with a rusted sword in his hand. Behind the farmer, Taran glimpsed Alarca weeping into her apron.

"Is this how you repay kindness?" Aeddan cried, recognizing Taran immediately. His eyes blazed as he pointed the ancient weapon at the approaching war band. "Do you come with them to spoil our land? Begone! It is already done!"

"How then?" Taran stammered, shocked at these words from one he held to be a friend. "I ride with King Smoit and his men. We seek peace between Gast and Goryon―"

"Does it matter whose warriors trampled my crops?" Aeddan flung back. "What Gast has destroyed, Goryon has doubly destroyed, warring back and forth across my field till not a blade of wheat stands! Battle is their pride, but my farm is my life. Do they seek vengeance? I sought only a harvest." In the weariness of despair Aeddan bowed his head and cast his sword to the ground.

Taran stared in dismay at the field where Aeddan had so painfully labored. The hooves of steeds had churned the earth to mud, uprooting the young shoots which now lay torn to shreds. The harvest on which Aeddan had staked his livelihood would never come, and Taran felt the farmer's heartbreak as if it were his own.

Before he could speak, a troop of horsemen galloped from the woods edging the farm. Taran recognized Lord Goryon at their head. In another moment Lord Gast and his riders appeared. Catching sight of his rival, the cantrev lord spurred his mount and galloped frantically to the cottage, flung himself out of the saddle, and with a furious shout raced toward Goryon.

"Robber!" cried Gast. "Do you mean to steal Cornillo from me again?"

"Thief!" cried Goryon. "I took what was mine to begin with!"

"Liar!" roared Gast. "Never was she yours!"

"Insults! Insolence!" roared Goryon, his face turning purple, his hand snatching for his sword.

"Be silent!" bellowed Smoit. He shook his battle axe at the cantrev lords. "Your King speaks! How dare you quarrel and insult each other, you pig-headed brawlers!" Smoit gestured to his warriors, who strode to seize Gast and Goryon. The riders of the two war bands cried out angrily and made to unsheathe their swords; for an instant Taran feared another battle would rage then and there. But Smoit's warriors stood their ground, and the sight of the enraged King himself caused the horsemen to draw back submissively.

"My dungeon will teach you to be good neighhors," cried Smoit. "You'll stay there till you learn. As for Cornillo― I've split my skull, cracked my bones, and ridden to the edge of starvation this day, and so I claim her for myself! A prize of war! And small recompense it is for the vexation you've given me! Another day and you'd have set the whole cantrev ablaze!"

At this, Gast and Goryon both roared in furious protest; and Taran could no longer hold his tongue. He strode to the King's side.

"Sire, even a lifetime in your dungeon will not raise one grain of wheat on a ruined field. Aeddan has lost all he hoped to gain, one harvest to keep himself and his wife alive. You offered me a favor," Taran went on. "I refused it then; will you let me claim it now?"

"Ask what you please my lad," replied Smoit. "It is already given."

Taran hesitated a moment as he stepped forward and stood facing the cantrev lords. Then he turned to Smoit. "I ask you this," he said. "Set Gast and Goryon free."

While Smoit blinked in astonishment, Goryon, glimpsing Taran for the first time, exclaimed, "It's the pig-keeper who cozened me out of my horse! I took him for a lout, but he asks a noble favor. Grant it, Smoit. He speaks wisdom!"

"Set them free," Taran continued, "to labor beside Aeddan and strive to mend what they have destroyed."

"What?" cried Gast. "I took him for a hero, but he's no more than a lout! How dare he ask Gast the Generous to delve the ground like a mole and for no reward!"

"Impudence! Impertinence! Insolence!" shouted Goryon. "I'll not have a pig-keeper pass judgment on Goryon the Valorous!"

"Nor on Gast the Generous!" exclaimed Gast.

"Pass judgment on yourselves, then," Taran answered, picking up two handfuls of earth and torn shoots and holding them before the furious, cantrev lords. "This is what remains of Aeddan's livelihood. As well take a sword and slay him. Look on this, Lord Goryon, for there is more truth here than in your tales of giants and monsters. And this he treasured, Lord Gast, more than you treasure any of your possessions― and it was more truly his own, for he toiled to make it so."

Gast and Goryon had fallen silent; the two rough cantrev lords stared at the ground like sheepish boys.

Aeddan and his wife looked on without speaking.

"The lad has a better head on his shoulders than I do," exclaimed Smoit, "and his judgment is wiser. Kinder, too, for my choice would have been the dungeon, not the delving!"

The cantrev lords reluctantly nodded agreement.

Taran turned to Smoit. "The rest of my favor is this: Grant most where need is greatest. Do you claim Cornillo for your own? Sire, give her to Aeddan."

"Give up Cornillo?" Smoit began, sputtering and choking. "My prize of war…" He finally nodded his head. "So be it, lad."

"Aeddan shall keep her," Taran went on, "and Gast and Goryon shall have her next calves."

"What of my herd?" cried Goryon.

"And mine!"cried Gast. "They're so mixed together no man can tell his own from another's."

"Lord Goryon shall divide the herds in equal portions," Taran said.

"He shall not!" Lord Gast broke in. "He'll give me all the scrawny ones and keep the fat for himself. It's I who'll divide them!"

"Not so!" shouted Goryon. "You'll fob off none of your rawboned creatures on me!"

"Lord Goryon shall divide the herds," Taran repeated. "But Lord Gast shall be first to choose his half."

"Well said!" Smoit burst out, roaring with laughter. "My breath and blood, you have them there! Goryon divides and Gast chooses! Ho, oho! It takes two thieves to strike an honest bargain!"

Aeddan and Alarca had come to stand before Taran and King Smoit. "Who you may truly be, I do not know," the farmer said to Taran. "But you befriended me far better than I befriended you."

"Oh, wisdom of kindly master!" cried Gurgi, as the cantrev lords set about dividing their herds and Smoit's warriors made ready to return to Caer Cadarn. "Gurgi finds cows, but only wise master knows what to do with them!"

"If indeed I did rightly," Taran replied, "Gast and Goryon will be waiting for Cornillo's calves. Gast said they were always twins. I only hope," he added with a grin, "that she doesn't disappoint us."

IT WAS LONG AFTER NIGHTFALL when the companions at last reached Caer Cadarn. Fflewddur and Gurgi were too exhausted to do more than fling themselves onto their couches. Taran would gladly have followed them, but Smoit took his arm and drew him to the Great Hall.

"Count your day well spent, my lad," cried Smoit. "You've spared the cantrev from a war and me from being drubbed into jelly. As for Gast and Goryon, how long they'll stay at peace with each other I'll not guess. But you've taught me one thing: My dungeons are useless. My body and bones, I'll have them walled up directly. From this day I'll try my hand at speaking instead of smiting!

"And yet, lad," Smoit went on, furrowing his brow, "my wits are slow. I need no man to tell me that, and I am easier in my mind when I have a blade in my hand. Will you return favor for favor? Stay with me in Cantrev Cadiffor."

"Sire," Taran answered, "I seek to learn who my kinsmen are. I cannot…"

"Kinsmen!" shouted Smoit, slapping his great girth. "There's enough of me to make all the kinsmen you could want! Hear me well," he added, his voice quieter now, "a widower am I, and childless. Do you yearn for parents? No less do I yearn for a son. When the horn of Gwyn the Hunter sounds for me, there shall be none to take my place, and none would I choose but you. Stay, lad, and you shall one day be King of Cadiffor."

"King of Cadiffor?" Taran cried. His heart leaped. What need to seek the Mirror when he could offer Eilonwy a royal throne, the proudest gift he could ever lay at her feet? Taran King of Cadiffor. The words rang more sweetly in his ears than Taran Assistant Pig-Keeper. Yet suddenly his joy turned cold. While Eilonwy might honor his rank, could she respect him for abandoning his quest even before it had begun? Could he respect himself? For a long while Taran did not answer, then with fond admiration he turned his eyes to Smoit.

"The honor you would give me," Taran began, "there is nothing I would value more highly. Yes― I long to accept it." His voice faltered. "Yet I would rather hold kingship by right of noble birth, not as a gift! It may be," he went on slowly, "that in truth I am nobly born. If it should prove thus, then gladly would I rule Cadiffor."

"How then!" cried Smoit. "My body and bones, I'd rather see a wise pig-keeper on my throne than a blood prince who's a fool!"

"But there is this, as well," Taran answered. "It is in my heart to learn the truth about myself. I will not stop short of it. Were I to do so, who I truly am would forever be unknown and through all my life I would feel a part of me lacking."

At these words Smoit's battle-scarred face fell with sadness and regretfully he bowed his head. But after a moment he clapped Taran heartily on the back. "My breath, blood, and beard!" he cried. "You've a will to chase the wild goose, will-o'-the-wisp, looking-glass, or whatever it may be; and I'll say no more to keep you from it. Seek it out, lad! Whether or not you find it, come back and Cadiffor will welcome you. But hasten, for if Gast and Goryon are ever at loggerheads again, I'll not vouch for how much of the cantrev will be left!"

Thus Taran, with Gurgi and Fflewddur Fflam, set off once more. In his secret heart Taran cherished the hope he might return to Smoit's realm with proud tidings of his parentage. Yet he did not foresee how long it would be until he set foot in Cantrev Cadiffor again.