[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

shadow writhed along the corridor and faded away.
THE COMPANIONS NOW PRESSEDinto the Great Hall and Taran hurried toward them, crying the
warning that Arawm still lived and had escaped.
Achren's eyes blazed with hatred. "Escaped you, Pig-Keeper, but not my vengeance. The secret
chambers of Arawn are no secret to me. I shall seek him out wherever he has taken refuge."
Without waiting for the companions, who ran to follow her, Achren set off with all speed down the
winding halls. She sprang past a heavy portal which bore the Death-Lord's seal branded deeply in the
iron-studded wood. At the far end of the long chamber Taran glimpsed a hunched, spidery figure
scuttling to a high, skull-shaped throne.
It was Magg. The Chief Steward's face was ghastly white, his lips trembled and slavered, and his eyes
rolled in his head. He stumbled to the foot of the throne, snatched at an object that lay on the flagstones,
clutched it to him, and whirled to face the companions.
"No closer!" shrieked Magg, in such a tone that even Achren halted and Taran, about to draw Dyrnwyn
from its scabbard, was gripped in horror at Magg's contorted features.
"Will you keep your lives?" Magg cried. "To your knees, then! Humble yourselves and beg mercy.
I, Magg, shall favor you by making you my slaves."
"Your master has abandoned you," replied Taran. "And your own treachery has ended." He strode
forward.
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
Magg's spidery hands thrust out in warning, and Taran saw that the Chief Steward held a strangely
wrought crown.
"I am master here," Magg shouted. "I, Magg, Lord of Annuvin. Arawn pledged that I should wear the
Iron Crown. Has it slipped from his fingers? It is mine, mine by right and promise!"
"He has gone mad," Taran murmured to Fflewddur, who stared in revulsion as the Chief Steward raised
high the crown and gibbered to him-self. "Help me take him prisoner!"
"No prisoner shall he be," cried Achren, draw-ing a dagger from her cloak. "His life is mine for the
taking, and he shall die as all who have betrayed me. My vengeance begins here, with a treacherous
slave, and next, his master."
"Harm him not," commanded Taran, as the Queen struggled to make her way past him to the throne.
"Let him find justice from Gwydion."
Achren fought against him, but Eilonwy and Doli hastened to hold the raging Queen's arms. Taran and
the bard strode toward Magg, who flung himself to the seat of the throne.
"Do you tell me Arawn's promises' are lies?" the Chief Steward hissed, fondling and fingering the heavy
crown. "It was promised I should wear this. Now it is given into my hands. So shall it be!" Quickly,
Magg lifted the crown and set it on his brow.
"Magg!" he shouted. "Magg the Magnificent! Magg the Death-Lord!"
The Chief Steward's triumphant laughter turned to a shriek as he clawed suddenly at the iron-band
circling his forehead. Taran and Fflewddur gasped and drew back.
The crown glowed like red iron in a forge. Writhing in agony, Magg clutched vainly at the burning metal
which now had turned white hot, and with a last scream toppled from the throne.
Eilonwy cried out and turned her face away.
GURGI AND GLEW HAD LOST TRACKof the compan-ions and were now pelting through the maze
of winding corridors trying vainly to find them. Gurgi was terrified at being in the heart of Annuvin and at
every step shouted Taran's name. Only the echoes from the torch-lit halls came back to him. Glew was
no less fearful. Between gasps, the former giant also found enough breath to complain bitterly.
"It's too much to bear!" he cried. "Too much! Is there no end to the wretched burdens put upon me?
Thrown aboard a ship, hustled off to Caer Dallben, half frozen to death, dragged through mountains at
the risk of my life, a fortune snatched from my hands! And now this! Oh, when I was a giant I'd not have
stood for such high-handed treatment!"
"Oh, giant, leave off pinings and whinings!" replied Gurgi, miserable enough at being separated from the
companions. "Gurgi is lost and lorn, but he tries to find kindly master with seekings. Do not fear," he
added reassuringly, though it was all he could do to keep his voice from trembling, "bold Gurgi will keep
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
plaintful little giant safe, oh, yes."
"You're not doing very well at it," snapped Glew. Nevertheless, the pudgy little man clung to the side of
the shaggy creature and, his stubby legs pumping, matched him stride for stride.
They had come to the end of one corridor where a squat and heavy iron portal stood open. Gurgi
fearfully halted. A bright cold light poured from the chamber. Gurgi took a few cautious paces and
peered within. Beyond the doorway stretched what seemed to be an endless tunnel. The light came from
heaps of precious stones and golden ornaments. Farther on, he glimpsed strange objects half-hidden by
shadows. Gurgi drew back, his eyes popping in wonder and terror.
"Oh, it is treasure house of evil Death-Lord," he whispered. "Oh, glimmerings and shimmerings! This is a
very secret place and fearsome, and not wise for bold Gurgi to stay."
Glew, however, pressed forward, and at the sight of the gems his pale cheeks twitched and his eyes
glittered. "Treasure, indeed!" he said, choking in his excitement. "I've been cheated of one fortune, but
now I'll be repaid. It's mine!" he cried. "All of it! I spoke first! No one shall deprive me of it!" [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]