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few more than that. Great Belin, but it's been a day and a half! It's not
everyone who finds his long-lost father sitting out in the middle of nowhere.
Taran, my friend, your search is ended; and ended well. We're spared a journey
to the Lake of Llunet--- I don't mind telling you I'm just as pleased. Now we
must set our plans. I say we should ride north to the Fair Folk realm and get
hold of good old Doli; then, on to my kingdom for some feasting and revelry.
And I suppose you'll want to sail to Mona and tell Eilonwy the good news. So
be it! Now your quest is over, you're free as a bird!"
"Free as the caged eagle that Morda would have made me!" Taran
cried. "This valley will destroy Craddoc if he stays alone even a little
longer His burden is too great. I honor him for trying to bear it. Indeed, I
honor him for that, and nothing else. His deeds cost my mother her life, and
nearly cost me mine. Can any son love such a father? Yet as long as Craddoc
lives, I am bound to him by ties of blood--- if truly his blood runs in my
veins."
"If?" replied Fflewddur. He frowned and looked closely at Taran.
"You say if, as though you doubted..."
"Craddoc speaks truth when he says he is my father," Taran answered.
"It is I who do not believe him."
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"How's that again?" asked Fflewddur. "You know he's your father and
doubt it at the same time? Now you really baffle me."
"Fflewddur, can you not see?" Taran spoke slowly and painfully. "I
don't believe him, because I don't want to believe him. In my heart, secretly,
I had always dreamed, even as a child, that--- that I might be of noble
lineage."
Fflewddur nodded. "Yes, I take your meaning." He sighed. "Alas,
there's no choosing one's kinsmen."
"Now," Taran said, "my dream is no more than a dream, and I must
give it up."
"His tale rings true," answered the bard. "But if there's doubt in
your heart, what shall you do? Ah, that rascal Kaw! If he were only here we
could send him with word to Dallben. But I doubt he'll find us in this dreary
wasteland."
"Wasteland?" said the voice of Craddoc.
The herdsman stood in the doorway. Taran quickly turned, ashamed of
his own words and wondering how many of them Craddoc had overheard. But if the
man had been there longer than a moment, he gave no sign of it. Instead, his
weather-beaten face smiled as he hobbled to the companions. Gurgi followed
behind him.
"Wasteland you see it now," Craddoc said, "but soon as fair as ever
it was." He set a hand proudly on Taran's shoulder. "My son and I. We will
make it so."
"I had thought," Taran began slowly, "I had hoped you would return
with us to Caer Dallben. Coll and Dallben will welcome you. The farm is rich,
and can be richer still if you help us with your labor. Here, the land may be
worn out past restoring."
"How then?" Craddoc answered, his features growing stern. "Leave my
land? To be another's servant? Now? When there is hope for us at last?" His
eyes filled with pain as he looked at Taran. "My son," he said quietly, "you
do not say all that is in your heart. Nor have I said all that is in mine. My
happiness blinded me to the truth. Your life has been too long apart from me.
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Caer Dallben is your home, more than this may ever be, this wasteland, this
fallow ground--- and the master of it a cripple."
The herdsman had not raised his voice, but the words echoed in
Taran's ears. Craddoc's face had gone hard as stone and a terrible pride
flamed in his eyes. "I cannot ask you to share this, nor beg duty from a son
who is a stranger to me. We have met. We shall part, if that is your wish. Go
your own path. I do not keep you from it."
Before Taran could answer, Craddoc turned and made his way to the
sheepfold.
"What must I do?" Taran cried in dismay to the bard.
Fflewddur shook his head. "He'll not leave here, that's for certain.
It's easy enough to see where your stubborn streak comes from. No, he won't
budge. But if you'd set your mind at rest, then you yourself might go to Caer
Dallben. Find out the truth from Dallben. He alone can tell you."
"Winter would be upon us before I could return," Taran answered. He
gazed at the harsh land and desolate cottage. "My--- my father is at the end
of his strength. The tasks are long. They must begin now, and be done before
the first snowfall."
He said no more for a time. Fflewddur waited silently; Gurgi was
quiet, his brow wrinkled with concern. Taran looked at the two and his heart
ached. "Hear me well, my friends," he said slowly. "Fflewddur, if you are
willing, ride to Caer Dallben. Tell that my search is ended and how this has
come about. As for me, my place must be here."
"Great Belin, you mean to stay in this wilderness?" Fflewddur cried.
"Even though you doubt...?"
Taran nodded. "My doubts may be of my own making. One way or
another, I pray you send word, speedily to me. But Eilonwy must be told
nothing of this, only that my quest is over, my father found." His voice
faltered. "Craddoc needs my help; his livelihood and his life depend on it,
and I will not withhold it from him. But to have Eilonwy know I am a
herdsman's son... No!" he burst out. "That would be more than I could bear.
Bid her my farewell. She and I must never meet again. It were better the
Princess forget the shepherd boy, better that all of you forget me."
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He turned to Gurgi. "And you, best of good friends, ride with
Fflewddur. If my place is here, yours must be in a happier one."
"Kindly master!" Gurgi shouted, flinging his arms desperately about
Taran. "Gurgi staysl So he promised!"
"Call me master no more!" Taran bitterly flung back. "No master am
I, but a low-born churl. Do you long for wisdom? You will not find it here
with me. Take your freedom. This valley is no beginning but an ending."
"No, no! Gurgi does not listen!" shouted Gurgi, clapping his hands
over his ears. He threw himself flat on the ground and lay stiff as a poker.
"He does not go from side of kindly master. No, no! Not with pullings and
pushings! Not with naggings and draggings!"
"So be it," Taran said at last, seeing nothing else would sway the
determined creature.
When Craddoc returned, Taran told him only that he and his companion
would stay, and that Fflewddur could no longer delay his own journey.
When Llyan was ready to travel, Taran put his arms about the cat's
mighty shoulders and pressed his cheek into her deep fur as she mewed
unhappily. Silently, he and Fflewddur clasped hands, and he watched while the
bard, with many a backward glance, rode slowly from the valley.
Leaving Melynlas and the pony tethered in the shed, Taran and Gurgi
bore the saddlebags holding their few possessions into the tumbledown cottage.
Taran stood a moment, looking at the crumbling walls of the narrow chamber,
the dead fire and broken hearthstone. From the pasture Craddoc was calling to
him.
"And so," Taran murmured, "and so have we come home."
In the weeks that followed, Taran believed he could have fared no
worse had Morda done as he had threatened. Tall gray summits rose about. him
like the unyielding bars of a cage. Prisoner, he sought freedom from his
memories in the harsh toil of the long days. There was much to be done, indeed
there was all to be done; the land to clear, the cottage to repair, the sheep
to tend. At first he had dreaded the dawns that brought him, weary as if he
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