The Castle of Llyr

Chapter 15 The Island

THE PRINCE OF DON rose like a shadow from the sedge. Though he had discarded his head-cloth and tools, he still wore the shabby raiment of his disguise. Perched on Gwydion's shoulder, Kaw blinked and ruffled his feathers, indignant at being awakened; seeing Taran, however, he bobbed his head and began croaking with excitement.

Taran, startled, cried out. Prince Rhun, waving his sword with great vigor and making as fierce a face as he could, hastened to join Taran.

"Why, it looks like the shoemaker!" Rhun called, lowering his weapon as he caught sight of the tall figure. "Is it, indeed? Whatever have you done with those sandals you promised?"

"Alas, Prince Rhun," Gwydion replied, "your sandals must wait on other matters."

"This is no shoemaker but Gwydion Prince of Don," Taran hurriedly whispered.

Gurgi and Fflewddur had now run up. The bard's jaw dropped.

"Great Belin!" stammered Fflewddur. "To think we shared a stable at Dinas Rhydnant! Lord Gwydion, had you only made yourself known to me…"

"Forgive me for deceiving you," answered Gwydion. "I dared not do otherwise. Silence then was my best shield."

"I would have sought you at Dinas Rhydnant," Taran said, "but Magg gave us no time. He has stolen away Eilonwy. We have been told of a place called Caer Colur where he might have taken her and have been trying to make our way there."

"Thanks to Kaw, I know a little of what has befallen you," Gwydion said. "He told me you had chosen to follow the river. He lost you when Llyan pursued him, but found me here.

"Achren, too, sought Caer Colur," Gwydion went on quickly. "When I learned this, I strove to follow her ship. One of the fisherfolk sailed with me to the northern coast. Your island people are bold," he added, glancing at Rhun. "Remember them with honor when you shall be King of Mona. The fisher­man would have brought me to Caer Colur itself. This favor I could not accept, for I dared not reveal my mission to him. Yet before he returned to Mona Haven, he willingly gave me the small boat he carried aboard, and would take no reward for his risk or his generosity."

"Have you already gone to Caer Colur?" Taran asked. "Was there any trace of Eilonwy?"

Gwydion nodded. "Yes. But I have failed to save the Princess," he said heavily. "She is Achren's prisoner. Magg moved more swiftly than any of us."

"The spider!" cried the bard with such heat that Kaw started up in alarm. "The sneering, sneaking spider! I beg you, let me deal with him. He and I have a long score to settle and it grows longer every moment!" He raised his sword. "I shan't need this! When I find him, I'll squash him with my bare hands!"

"Hold hold," ordered Gwydion. "Spider he may be, but his sting is all the more deadly. His vanity and ambition have made him Achren's willing creature. He shall be dealt with, and so shall Achren. Our concern now is for Eilonwy."

"Can we not free her?" Taran asked. "How closely is she guarded?"

"Last night I rowed to the island," Gwydion said. "In the little time I remained there, I could not discover where the Princess is held. Though I saw that Achren has but a paltry company of warriors― hirelings and outlaws who have cast their lot with her. None of Arawn's deathless Cauldron-Born is among them." He smiled bitterly. "Without the protection of the Lord of Annuvin, haughty Achren commands only lackeys."

"Then we can attack them now," Taran cried, his hand on his sword "We are enough to overcome them."

"This task calls for strength of a different nature, and swords are not all we shall have to fear," Gwydion replied. "There is much I have not told you of this matter, and much that I myself did not know. Even now the riddle is not fully answered. But I have learned that Achren's plans are deeper than I had imagined, and Eilonwy's plight graver. She must be taken from Caer Colur before it is too late."

Gwydion drew his cloak around him and stepped toward the riverbank. Taran caught his arm. "Let us go with you," he urged. "We shall stand with you should you need us and guard Eilonwy's escape."

The tall warrior paused and glanced at the waiting companions. He turned his green-flecked eyes on Taran and studied him closely. "I do not doubt the courage of any one of you. But Caer Colur holds greater peril than you know."

"Eilonwy is dear to me, to all of us," Taran said.

Gwydion was silent a moment, his weathered face grim and withdrawn. Then he nodded. "It shall be as you wish. Follow me."

The Prince of Don led the companions from the marshy fields to a narrow shoulder of beach. From there, they passed along the edge of the sea to a sheltered cove, where a small boat bobbed at the end of a mooring line. Gwydion beckoned the companions to step aboard, took the oars, and with swift noiseless strokes guided the little craft seaward.

As the glittering black water rolled beneath him, Taran crouched in the bow of the boat and strained his eyes for a sign of Caer Colur. Prince Rhun and the companions huddled at the stern, while Gwydion bent his powerful shoulders to the oars. The stars had begun to fade and banks of sea mist drifted in chill clouds.

"Our task must be finished quickly and before daylight," said Gwydion. "Most of Achren's warriors have been set to guard the landward entry. We shall land on the far side of the castle, hard by the outer wall. In darkness we may escape their eyes."

"Glew told us Caer Colur had broken from the

mainland," said Taran, "but I had not imagined it to be this far at sea."

Gwydion frowned. "Glew? Kaw said nothing to me of Glew."

"It was then that Kaw left us," Taran explained. "Small wonder he could not find us again, for we were deep underground." He told Gwydion finding Eilonwy's bauble, the treachery of Glew, and the strange book. Gwydion, who had been listening intently, shipped the oars and let the boat drift.

"Alas that you did not speak of this sooner. I would have found better means of safeguarding it," he said, as Taran handed him the golden sphere which began to glow brightly. Gwydion spread his cloak and shielded the light. Quickly he took the book from Taran's hands, opened it, and brought the bauble closer to the empty pages. The ancient writing sprang into sight. Gwydion's face was tense and pale.

"To read this is beyond my power," Gwydion said, "but I recognize it for what it is: the greatest treasure of the House of Llyr."

"A treasure of Llyr?" T'aran whispered, "What is its nature? Does it belong to Eilonwy?"

Gwydion nodded. "She is the last Princess of Llyr, and it is hers by blood-right. But there is more you must understand. For generations the daughters of the House of Llyr were among the most skillful enchantresses in Prydain, using their powers with wisdom and kindliness. In their fastness at Caer Colur were stored all their treasures, magical devices and charmed implements whose nature even I do not know.

"The chronicles of the House of Llyr give only veiled hints as to how these mysteries were guarded. The lore tells of an enchantment known only as the Golden Pelydryn, handed down from mother to daughter, and of a book holding all the secrets of those magical devices and many potent spells.

"But Caer Colur was abandoned and fell into ruins after Angharad Daughter of Regat fled the castle to marry against her Mother's wishes. The book of spells, which she carried away with her, was believed lost. Of the Golden Pelydryn, nothing was known." Gwydion looked down at the bauble. "The Golden Pelydryn was not lost. What better way to hide it than to put it as a shining toy in the hands of a child?

"Eilonwy believed she had been sent to live with Achren and study to be an enchantress," Gwydion went on. "It is not true. Achren stole Eilonwy and brought her as a child to Spiral Castle."

"Did Achren fail to recognize the Golden Pelydryn?" Taran asked. "If she knew its nature, why did she leave it in Eilonwy's possession?"

"Achren dared not do otherwise," answered Gwydion. "Yes, she knew Eilonwy's heritage. She recognized the Pelydryn, but also knew it would lose its power if taken forcibly from its rightful owner. Then, too, the book of spells had vanished. Achren could attempt nothing until it was found again."

"And without even realizing it," Taran said, "Glew was the one who gained the book of spells. Poor foolish creature who thought himself cheated!"

"So he was," replied Gwydion. "He could not have seen the hidden writing without the light of the Golden Pelydryn. Even then, it would have availed him nothing. The spells obey only a daughter of the House of Llyr. Eilonwy alone has the inborn skill to read them― though not before she herself has reached the threshold of wodianhood. She stands there now, and the spells of Caer Colur are within her grasp. For that reason has Achren sought her so desperately."

"Eilonwy is safe, then," Taran cried. "If she alone can awaken the spells, Achren dares not harm her. Nor does Achren dare harm us, since the Pelydryn and the book of enchantments are in our hands."

"It may be," Gwydion answered grimly, "that Eilonwy is in greater danger than before."

CAREFULLY GWYDION PLACED the book and golden sphere in his jacket and redoubled his efforts at the oars. Taran, clinging to the side of the boat, saw a high, dark mound loom ahead. Gwydion swung the craft farther seaward and now rowed steadily in a wide half-circle. The sea swell lifted the little vessel and drove it with ever-growing speed. The crash of waves rang in Taran's ears. Gwydion bent his strength to one oar, then the other, and Gurgi whimpered plaintively as the boat was flung forward into a narrow, foam-filled channel.

The pinnacles of Caer Colur rose black against a dark sky. Mist rolled around the columns of stone which had been, Taran guessed, proud and lofty towers, but were now crumbled and jutting ruins thrusting upward like the shards of broken swords. As they came closer, he saw the heavy, iron-bound portals, reminders of a day when Caer Colur had been a fortress rooted on the mainland. The gates faced the sea, but, since the castle had sunk lower, they stood half-submerged in the restless water. Waves churned arid beat against them, as though to take the ruins by storm and wreak their last destruction.

Near the massive portals wind and water had gouged a cave-like hollow, and here Gwydion moored the boat and gestured for the companions to disembark. As they clambered to the rocks Taran heard a tormented groaning and creaking from the gates, as though they had gained their own voice and cried out against the onslaught of the waves. Gwydion climbed upward. Finding a handhold among the sharp stones, Rhun painfully toiled after him, with Taran and Gurgi following to catch the Prince of Mona should he fall. Fflewddur struggled along silently.

Kaw had already flown to the walls, and Taran envied the crow his wings as he saw the sheer facing of stone and the broken parapets brooding high above. Gwydion led them along the base of the wall toward the heavy lintels of the gates. The bastion was cleft as though by a sword stroke, and loose rubble had fallen into the breach. The Prince of Don signaled them to halt.

"Remain here," he ordered in a low voice. "I shall go first and learn where Achren's guards are posted." Noiselessly he vanished into the cleft. The companions crouched among the rocks not daring to speak.

Taran rested his head on his arms. His thoughts turned again and again to Eilonwy and to the words of Gwydion; he could barely bring himself to believe the slender, laughing girl could command powers perhaps as strong as those , of Achren. Soon, soon, he told himself, Eilonwy would be free. But as his impatience grew, so did his fear, and he looked up anxiously, straining eyes and ears for a sign of Gwydion.

He was tempted then to follow the Prince of Don, but in another moment Gwydion appeared from the shadows. "Achren pays for a poor vigil," Gwydion said with a hard smile. "One sentinel watches landward, another leans drowsing on his sword. The others sleep."

The companions pressed through the cleft. The task now was to discover Eilonwy's prison, and Taran's heart sank. Within the walls the ruins of Caer Colur stretched like a great skeleton. Its tumble of once regal halls and towers lay before the companions, and Taran glanced with dismay at Gwydion. The tall warrior motioned for the companions to draw their swords and indicated where each of them was to search.

Fflewddur was about to move toward the outlying buildings when Taran nearly cried aloud. Kaw fluttered from one of the towers and swooped down to perch on Taran's upraised arm. The crow beat his wings, flew aloft once more, and circled the pinnacle.

"He's found her!" Taran whispered. "Our search is over!"

"It has only now begun," warned Gwydion. "One of us shall climb up and see if it is possible to free her. The others shall take positions farther along the wall to guard against surprise by Achren's warriors."

"I shall," Taran began, then hesitated and turned to Prince Rhun. He bowed his head. "She will be your betrothed. It was your wish that you…"

"That I should prove my valor to the Princess? Yes," Rhun said slowly. "But it is my wish no longer. I'm quite content proving it to myself. And I rather guess you might really be the one Eilonwy would prefer to see first."

Taran glanced at Gwydion, who nodded and directed the others to move to the landward side of the castle. As Rhun went to join Gurgi and Fflewddur, Gwydion knelt and drew the book and golden sphere from his jacket.

"If aught should go amiss, these must not fall into Achren's hands," he said, setting the objects carefully beneath the loose stones. Deftly he replaced the rubble and smoothed the earth around it. "This must serve to guard them until we return."

Kaw had flown back to Taran. Gwydion rose and from his belt took a coil of slender rope, made a loop on the end and held it out to Kaw, murmuring softly to the crow. The bird snatched the line with his beak and flapped silently to the jagged pinnacle, hovered above a jutting stone, then dropped the loop securely over it.

Gwydion turned to Taran. "I know what is in your heart," he said gently. "Climb up, Assistant Pig-Keeper. I leave this task to you."

Taran raced to the bottom of the tower. The rope pulled taut under his weight and the mist swirled about him, as he sought a foothold in the rough wall. He tightened his grip on the cord and drew himself upward. A sharp gust of sea wind buffeted him. For an instant he swung free of the tower. Below, the waves dashed against the rocks. He dared not look down, bur desperately strove to halt the dizzying motion. His foot struck stone again. Bending all his strength to the rope, he climbed higher.

A casement opened just above him and Taran hoisted himself to the ledge. Within the small chamber a rush light burned fitfully. His heart leaped. Eilonwy was there.

The Princess lay motionless on a low couch.. She still wore the robe Teleria had given her, though now it was torn and mud-spattered. The red-gold hair tumbled about her shoulders and her face was pale and drawn.

Taran hurriedly swung himself over the ledge, dropped to the flagstones, and hastened to Eilonwy's side. He touched her shoulder. The girl stirred, turned her face away, and murmured in her sleep.

"Quickly!" Taran whispered. "Gwydion waits for us."

Eilonwy roused, passed a hand over her fore­head, and opened her eyes. At the sight of Taran she gave a cry of surprise.

"Gurgi is here, too," Taran said. "Fflewddur, Prince Rhun― all of us. You are safe. Hurry!"

"That's very interesting," said Eilonwy sleep­ily. "But who are they? And for the matter of that," she added, "who are you?"