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twig. But the riders of Goryon
     overcame them all with glory and honor!”
    “The stallion, too, was bewitched,” put in another of Goryon's henchmen, “and fought as
     fiercely as the giants. The beast is a man-killer, vicious as a starving wolf.”
    “But Goryon the Valorous will tame the creature,” added another, turning to the cantrev
     lord.
    “You'll ride the brute, will you not, Goryon?”
    “Eh?” said Goryon, a painful and unhappy grimace suddenly marking his face. “So I will, so
     I will,” he growled; then flung out angrily “You insult my honor if you think I cannot.”
    As Taran stood among these rough warriors, he began to despair of finding any means of
     convincing the prickly-tempered cantrev lord; the thought crossed his mind to draw blade
     and fight his way out as best he could. But another glance at the stern faces of the
     henchmen gave him only more cause for dismay.
    “My lord,” Taran said firmly, “I speak the truth. There were no giants, but my companion
     and myself, and a farmer who fought beside us.”
    “No giants?” shouted Goryon. “But more insults!” He stamped his foot as if the turf itself
     had given him some impertinence. “You call my men liars? As well call me one!”
    “My lord,” Taran began again, bowing deeply, for it was growing clear to him that Goryon's
     touchy honor could scarcely allow the cantrev lord to believe an account of simple horse
     stealing; and there was, Taran realized, even for the border-band themselves, considerably
     more honor in overcoming giants than in robbing Assistant Pig-Keepers. “I call no man liar
     and your men spoke the truth. The truth,” he added, “as they saw it.”
    “Insolence!” cried Goryon. “The truth as it is! There were giants, monsters, uprooted
     oaks. My men were well-rewarded for their valor, but you shall have a beating for your
     impudence!”
    “What I believe, my lord, is this,” Taran went on, choosing his words carefully, since all
     he had thus far managed to say Goryon had turned into one kind of insult or another. "The
     sun was low and our shadows made our number seem twice as great. Indeed, your men saw
     double what we truly were.
    “As for giants,” Taran hurried on before the cantrev lord could cry out against another
     impertinence, “again, the long shadows of sunset gave us such height that any man could
     mistake our size.”
    “The oak-tree cudgel,” Lord Goryon began.
    “The farmer bore a stout oaken staff,” Taran said. “His arm was strong, his blows quick,
     as two of your men had good reason to know. He smote with such a mighty hand, small wonder
     they felt a tree had fallen on them.”
    Lord Goryon said nothing for a moment, but sucked a tooth and rubbed his bristling beard.
     “What of the monster? A raving, ferocious creature they saw with their own eyes?”
    “The monster stands before you,” Taran answered, pointing to Gurgi. “He has long been my
     companion. I know him to be gentle, but the fiercest foe when roused.”
    “He is Gurgi! Yes, yes!” Gurgi shouted. “Bold, clever, and fierce to fight for kindly
     master!” With this he bared his teeth, shook his hairy arms, and yelled so frightfully
     that Goryon and his henchmen drew backward a pace.
    The face of the cantrev lord had begun to furrow in deep perplexity. He shifted his bulk
     from one foot to another and glared at Taran. “Shadows!” he growled. “You mean to shadow
     the bravery of those who serve me. Another insult...”
    “If your warriors believed they had seen what they claimed,” Taran said, “and fought
     accordingly, their bravery is no less. Indeed,” he added, half under his breath, “it is
     every bit as great as their truthfulness.”
    “These are no more than words,” interrupted the Master of Horse. “Show me deeds. There is
     no creature on four hooves that I cannot ride, save this one. You, churl, will you dare to
     mount?”
    For