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followed us.”
    “Of course she shouldn't,” Taran put in angrily. “She must return immediately. She's a foolish, scatterbrained...”
    “She is uncalled and unwanted here,” said Ellidyr, striding up. He turned to Adaon. “For once the pig-boy shows sense. Send the little fool back to her pots.”
    Taran spun around. “Hold your tongue! I have swallowed your insults to me for the sake of our quest, but you will not speak ill of another.”
    Ellidyr's sword leaped up. Taran raised his own. Adaon stepped between them and held out his hands. “Enough, enough,” he ordered. “Are you so eager to shed blood?”
    “Must I hear reproof from a pig-boy?” retorted Ellidyr. “Must I let a scullery maid cost me my head?”
    “Scullery maid!” shrieked Eilonwy. “Well, I can tell you...”
    Gurgi, meantime, had clambered cautiously from the tree and had loped over to stand behind Taran.
    “And this!” Ellidyr laughed bitterly, gesturing at Gurgi. “This--- thing! Is this the black beast that so alarmed you, dreamer?”
    “No, Ellidyr, it is not,” murmured Adaon, almost sadly.
    “This is Gurgi the warrior!” Gurgi boldly cried over Taran's shoulder. “Yes, yes! Clever, valiant Gurgi, who joins master to keep him from harmful hurtings!”
    “Be silent,” Taran ordered. “You've caused trouble enough.”
    “How did you reach us?” Adaon asked. “You are on foot.”
    “Well, not really,” Eilonwy said, “at least, not all the way. The horses didn't run off until a little while ago.”
    “What?” cried Taran. “You took horses from Caer Dallben and lost them?”
    “You know perfectly well they're our own horses,” declared Eilonwy, "the ones Gwydion gave us last year. And we didn't lose them. It was more as if they lost us. We only stopped to let them drink and the silly things galloped away. Frightened, I suppose. I think they didn't like being so close to Annuvin, though I'll tell you truthfully it doesn't bother me in the least.
    “In any case,” she concluded, “you needn't worry about them. The last we saw, they were heading straight for Caer Dallben.”
    “And so shall you be,” Taran said.
    “And so shall I not!” cried Eilonwy. “I thought about it a long time after you left, every bit as long as it took you to cross the fields. And I decided. It doesn't matter what anybody says, fair is fair. If you can be allowed on a quest, so can I. And there it is, as simple as that.”
    “And it was clever Gurgi who found the way!” Gurgi put in proudly. “Yes, yes, with whiffings and sniffings! Gurgi does not let gentle Princess go alone, oh, no! And loyal Gurgi does not leave friends behind,” he added reproachfully to Taran.
    “Since you have come this far,” Adaon said, “you may await Gwydion. Although how he will deal with you two runaways may not be to your liking. Your journey,” he added, smiling at the bedraggled Princess, “seems to have been more difficult than ours. Rest now and take refreshment.”
    “Yes, yes!” Gurgi cried. “Crunchings and munchings for brave, hungry Gurgi!”
    “That's very kind and thoughtful of you,” said Eilonwy with an admiring glance at Adaon. “Much more than you can expect from certain Assistant Pig-Keepers.”
    Adaon went to the stock of provisions, while Ellidyr strode off to his guard post. Taran sat down wearily on a boulder, his sword across his knees.
    “It's not that we're starving,” Eilonwy said. “Gurgi did remember to bring along the wallet of food. Yes, and that was a gift from Gwydion, too, so he had every right to take it. It's certainly a magical wallet,” she went on; "it never seems to get empty. The food is really quite nourishing, I'm sure, and wonderful to have when you need it. But the truth of the matter is, it's rather tasteless. That's often the trouble with magical things. They're never quite what you'd expect.
    “You're angry, aren't you,” Eilonwy went on. “I can always tell. You look as if you've