Lloyd Alexander - Chronicles of Prydain 2 - The Black Cauldr

VIP免费

2024-12-15 0 0 306.86KB 232 页 5.9玖币

侵权投诉

Scanned and fully proofed by:

*¤*nihua*¤*

2001-11-22

The Chronicles of Prydain

Book Two

THE BLACK

CAULDRON

Lloyd Alexander

ISBN No. 0-440-40649-8

Published by

Bantam Doubleday

Dell Books for Young Readers

April, 1990

Author's Note

THE FOLLOWING PAGES are intended,

hopefully, to do somewhat more than

continue the Chronicles of Prydain. "What

happens next?" is always an urgent question,

and this volume attempts to answer it, at

least partially. Nevertheless, The Black

Cauldron should stand as a chronicle in its

own right. Certain matters previously hinted

at are here revealed more fully; and, while

extending the story, I have also tried to

deepen it.

If a darker thread runs through the high

spirits, it is because the happenings are of

serious import not only to the Land of

Prydain but to Taran, the Assistant Pig-

Keeper, himself. Although an imaginary

world, Prydain is essentially not too different

from our real one, where humor and

heartbreak, joy and sadness are closely

interwoven. The choices and decisions that

face a frequently baffled Assistant Pig-Keeper

are no easier than the ones we ourselves

must make. Even in a fantasy realm, growing

up is accomplished not without cost.

Readers venturing into this kingdom for

the first time should also be warned that the

landscape, at first glance, may seem like

Wales, and the inhabitants may evoke heroes

of ancient Welsh legend. These were the

roots and inspiration. But the rest is a work

of imagination, similar only in spirit, not in

detail.

Readers who have already journeyed

with Taran are assured--- and this without

giving away any surprises--- that Gurgi,

despite shakings and quakings and fears for

his poor tender head, insisted on joining this

new adventure, as did the impetuous

Fflewddur Fflam and the disgruntled Doli of

the Fair Folk. As for the Princess Eilonwy

Daughter of Angharad--- there can be no

question!

I have been happy to learn that Taran, in

spite of his faults, has gained some steadfast

companions beyond the borders of Prydain:

Beverly Bond, whose courage never faltered;

Zay Borman, who rashly visited the Marshes

of Morva during a thunderstorm; Carl Brandt,

who was sure Prydain existed even before it

was discovered; Ann Durell, from the very

beginning; Max Jacobson, my severe friend

and best critic; Evaline Ness of clearest

vision; Louise Waller, who helped weed

dandelions. And Evan and Reed, Kris and

Mike, Fleur, Suzy, and Barbara, Peter, Liz

and Susie, Michael, Mark, Gary, and Diana.

And their respective parents. To them, these

pages are affectionately offered.

-L.A.

Chapter 1

The Council at Caer Dallben

AUTUMN HAD COME too swiftly. In the

northernmost realms of Prydain many trees

were already leafless, and among the

branches clung the ragged shapes of empty

nests. To the south, across the river Great

Avren, the hills shielded Caer Dallben from

the winds, but even here the little farm was

drawing in on itself.

For Taran, the summer was ending

before it had begun. That morning Dallben

had given him the task of washing the

oracular pig. Had the old enchanter ordered

him to capture a full-grown gwythaint, Taran

would gladly have set out after one of the

vicious winged creatures. As it was, he filled

the bucket at the well and trudged

reluctantly to Hen Wen's enclosure. The

white pig, usually eager for a bath, now

squealed nervously and rolled on her back in

the mud. Busy struggling to raise Hen Wen

to her feet, Taran did not notice the

horseman until he had reined up at the pen.

"You, there! Pig-boy!" The rider looking

down at him was a youth only a few years

older than Taran. His hair was tawny, his

eyes black and deep-set in a pale, arrogant

face. Though of excellent quality, his

garments had seen much wear, and his cloak

was purposely draped to hide his threadbare

attire. The cloak itself, Taran saw, had been

neatly and painstakingly mended. He sat

astride a roan mare, a lean and nervous

steed speckled red and yellow, with a long,

narrow head, whose expression was as ill-

tempered as her master's.

"You, pig-boy," he repeated, "is this Caer

Dallben?"

The horseman's tone and bearing nettled

Taran, but he curbed his temper and bowed

courteously. "It is," he replied. "But I am not

a pig-boy," he added. "I am Taran, Assistant

Pig-Keeper."

"A pig is a pig," said the stranger, "and a

pig-boy is a pig-boy. Run and tell your

master I am here," he ordered. "Tell him that

Prince Ellidyr Son of Pen-Llarcau..."

Hen Wen seized this opportunity to roll

into another puddle. "Stop that, Hen!" Taran

cried, hurrying after her.

"Leave off with that sow," Ellidyr

commanded. "Did you not hear me? Do as I

say, and be quick about it."

"Tell Dallben yourself!" Taran called over

his shoulder, trying to keep Hen Wen from

the mud. "Or wait until I've done with my

own work!"

"Mind your impudence," Ellidyr

answered, "or you shall have a good beating

for it."

Taran flushed. Leaving Hen Wen to do as

she pleased, he strode quickly to the railing

and climbed over. "If I do," he answered

hotly, throwing back his head and looking

Ellidyr full in the face, "it will not be at your

hands."

Ellidyr gave a scornful laugh. Before

Taran could spring aside, the roan plunged

forward. Ellidyr, leaning from the saddle,

seized Taran by the front of the jacket. Taran

flailed his arms and legs vainly. Strong as he

was, he could not break free. He was

pummeled and shaken until his teeth rattled.

Ellidyr then urged the roan into a gallop,

hauled Taran across the turf to the cottage,

and there, while chickens scattered in every

direction, tossed him roughly to the ground.

The commotion brought Dallben and Coll

outdoors. The Princess Eilonwy hurried from

the scullery, her apron flying and a cookpot

still in her hand. With a cry of alarm she ran

to Taran's side.

Ellidyr, without troubling to dismount,

called to the white bearded enchanter. "Are

you Dallben? I have brought your pig-boy to

be thrashed for his insolence."

"Tut!" said Dallben, unperturbed by

Ellidyr's furious expression. "Whether he is

insolent is one thing, and whether he should

be thrashed is another. In either case, I need

no suggestions from you."

"I am a Prince of Pen-Llarcau!" cried

Ellidyr.

"Yes, yes, yes," Dallben interrupted with

a wave of his brittle hand. "I am quite aware

of all that and too busy to be concerned with

it. Go, water your horse and your temper at

the same time. You shall be called when you

are wanted."

Ellidyr was about to reply, but the

enchanter's stern glance made him hold his

tongue. He turned the roan and urged her

toward the stable.

Princess Eilonwy and the stout,

baldheaded Coll, meantime, had been

helping Taran pick himself up.

"You should know better, my boy, than

to quarrel with strangers," said Coll good-

naturedly.

"That's true enough," Eilonwy added.

"Especially if they're on horseback and you're

on foot."

"Next time I meet him," Taran began.

"When you meet again," said Dallben,

"you, at least, shall conduct yourself with as

much restraint and dignity as possible---

which, I allow, may not be very great, but

you shall have to make do with it. Be off,

now. The Princess Eilonwy can help you to be

a little more presentable than you are at the

moment."

In the lowest of spirits, Taran followed

the golden-haired girl to the scullery. He still

smarted, more from Ellidyr's words than from

the drubbing; and he was hardly pleased that

Eilonwy had seen him sprawled at the feet of

the arrogant Prince.

"However did it happen?" Eilonwy asked,

picking up a damp cloth and applying it to

Taran's face.

Taran did not answer, but glumly

submitted to her care.

Before Eilonwy had finished, a hairy

figure, covered with leaves and twigs,

popped up at the window, and with great

agility clambered over the sill.

"Woe and sadness!" the creature wailed,

loping anxiously to Taran. "Gurgi sees

smackings and whackings by strengthful

lord! Poor, kindly master! Gurgi is sorry for

him.

"But there is news!" Gurgi hurried on.

"Good news! Gurgi also sees mightiest of

princes riding! Yes, yes, with great gallopings

on white horse with black sword, what joy!"

"What's that?" cried Taran. "Do you

mean Prince Gwydion? It can't be ..."

"It is," said a voice behind him.

Gwydion stood in the doorway.

With a shout of amazement, Taran ran

forward and clasped his hand. Eilonwy threw

her arms about the tall warrior, while Gurgi

joyfully pounded the floor. The last time

Taran had seen him, Gwydion wore the

raiment of a prince of the royal House of

Don. Now he was dressed simply in a hooded

cloak of gray and a coarse, unadorned

jacket. The black sword, Dyrnwyn, hung at

his side.

"Well met, all of you," said Gwydion.

"Gurgi looks as hungry as ever, Eilonwy

prettier than ever. And you, Assistant Pig-

Keeper," he added, his lined and weathered

face breaking into a smile, "a little the worse

for wear. Dallben has mentioned how you

came by those bruises."

"I sought no quarrel," Taran declared.

"But one found you, nonetheless,"

Gwydion said. "I think that must be the way

of it with you, Taran of Caer Dallben. No

matter," he said, stepping back and studying

Taran closely through green-flecked eyes.

"Let me look at you. You have grown since

last we met." Gwydion nodded his shaggy,

wolf-gray head in approval. "I hope you have

gained as much wisdom as height. We shall

see. Now I must make ready for the council."

"Council?" Taran cried. "Dallben said

nothing of a council. He did not even say you

were coming here."

"The truth is," Eilonwy put in, "Dallben

hasn't been saying much of anything to

anybody."

"You should understand by now," said

Gwydion, "that of what he knows, Dallben

tells little. Yes, there is to be a council, and I

have summoned others to meet us here."

"I am old enough to sit in a council of

men," Taran interrupted excitedly. "I have

learned much; I have fought at your side, I

have ..."

"Gently, gently," Gwydion said. "We have

agreed you shall have a place. Though

manhood," he added softly, with a trace of

sadness, "may not be all that you believe."

Gwydion put his hands on Taran's shoulders.

"Meanwhile, stand ready. Your task will be

given soon enough."

AS GWYDION HAD foretold, the rest of

the morning brought many new arrivals. A

company of horsemen soon appeared and

began to make camp in the stubble field

beyond the orchard. The warriors, Taran

saw, were armed for battle. His heart leaped.

Surely this, too, had to do with Gwydion's

council. His head spun with questions and he

hurried toward the field. He had not gone

halfway when he stopped short in great

surprise. Two familiar figures were riding up

文档加载中……请稍候！
如果长时间未打开，您也可以点击刷新试试。

下载文档到电脑，查找使用更方便

5.9 玖币 0人已下载

立即下载 VIP免费下载

摘要：

Scannedandfullyproofedby:*¤*nihua*¤*2001-11-22TheChroniclesofPrydainBookTwoTHEBLACKCAULDRONLloydAlexanderCopyright©1965ISBNNo.0-440-40649-8PublishedbyBantamDoubledayDellBooksforYoungReadersApril,1990Author'sNoteTHEFOLLOWINGPAGESareintended,hopefully,todosomewhatmorethancontinuetheChroniclesofPrydain...

展开>> 收起<<

Lloyd Alexander - Chronicles of Prydain 2 - The Black Cauldr.pdf

共232页,预览47页

还剩页未读，继续阅读

声明：本站为文档C2C交易模式，即用户上传的文档直接被用户下载，本站只是中间服务平台，本站所有文档下载所得的收益归上传人(含作者)所有。玖贝云文库仅提供信息存储空间，仅对用户上传内容的表现方式做保护处理，对上载内容本身不做任何修改或编辑。若文档所含内容侵犯了您的版权或隐私，请立即通知玖贝云文库，我们立即给予删除！

Lloyd Alexander - Chronicles of Prydain 2 - The Black Cauldr

相关推荐

开通VIP享超值会员特权

作者详情

相关内容

热门标签

举报选择: