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companions.
"Oh, the poor lambs!" she cried. "What have they gone and done? We
tried to warn them about the nasty Crochan, but the headstrong little goslings
wouldn't listen! My, oh my," she clucked sorrowfully, "now they've got their
little fingers caught!"
"Don't you think," said Orgoch in a croaking whisper, "we should
start the fire?"
Orddu turned to her. "Do be silent, Orgoch," she cried. "What a
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dreadful thought. It's much too early for breakfast."
"Never too early," muttered Orgoch.
"Look at them," Orddu went on fondly. "They're so charming when
they're frightened. Like birdlings without their feathers."
"You have tricked us, Orddu!" Taran cried. "You knew we'd find the
cauldron and you knew what would happen!"
"Why, of course we did, my chicken," Orddu replied sweetly. "We were
only curious to find out what you'd do when you did find it. And now you've
found it, and now we know!"
Taran struggled desperately to free himself. Despite his terror, he
flung back his head and glared defiantly at Orddu. "Kill us if you choose, you
evil hags!" he cried. "Yes, we would have stolen the cauldron and destroyed
it! And so shall I try again, as long as I live!" Taran threw himself
furiously against the immovable Crochan and once again with all his strength
tried vainly to wrest it from the ground.
"I love to see them get angry, don't you?" Orwen whispered happily
to Orgoch.
"Do take care," Orddu advised Taran, "or you'll harm yourself with
all that thrashing about. We forgive you for calling us hags," she added
indulgently. "You're upset, poor chicken, and liable to say anything."
"You are evil creatures!" Taran cried. "Do with us what you will,
but sooner or later you shall be overcome. Gwydion shall learn of our fate.
And Dallben..."
"Yes, yes!" shouted Gurgi. "They will find you, oh, yes! With great
fightings and smitings!"
"My dear pullets," replied Orddu, "you still don't understand, do
you? Evil? Why, bless your little thumping hearts, we aren't evil."
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"I should hardly call this 'good'," muttered the bard. "Not, at
least, from a personal point of view."
"Of course not," agreed Orddu. "We're neither good nor evil. We're
simply interested in things as they are. And things as they are, at the
moment, seem to be that you're caught by the Crochan."
"And you don't care!" cried Eilonwy. "That's worse than being evil!"
"Certainly we care, my dear," Orwen said soothingly. "It's that we
don't care in quite the same way you do, or rather care isn't really a feeling
we can have."
"Come now," said Orddu, "don't trouble your thoughts with such
matters. We've been talking and talking and we have some pleasant news for
you. Bring the Crochan outdoors--- it's so stuffy and eggy in here--- and we
shall tell you. Go ahead," she added, "you can lift it now."
Taran cast Orddu a distrustful glance, but ventured to put his
weight against the cauldron. It moved, and he discovered, too, his hands were
free.
With much labor the companions managed to raise the heavy Crochan
and carry it from the chicken roost.
Outside, the sun had already risen. As the companions set the
cauldron on the ground and quickly drew away, the rays of dawn turned the
black iron as red as blood.
"Yes, now as I was saying," Orddu continued, while Taran and his
companions rubbed their aching arms and hands, "we've talked it over and we
agree--- even Orgoch agrees--- that you shall have the Crochan if you truly
want it."
"You'll let us take it?" cried Taran. "After all you've done?"
"Quite so," replied Orddu. "The Crochan is useless--- except for
making Cauldron-Born. Arawn has spoiled it for anything else, as you might
imagine. It's sad it should be so, but that's the way things are. Now, I
assure you, Cauldron-Born are the last creatures in the world we should want
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around here. We've decided the Crochan is nothing but a bother to us. And,
since you're friends of Dallben..."
"You're giving us the Crochan?" Taran began in astonishment.
"Delighted to oblige you ladies," said the bard.
"Gently, gently, my ducklings," Orddu interrupted. "Give you the
Crochan? Oh, goodness no! We never give anything. Only what is worth earning
is worth having. But we shall allow you the opportunity to buy it."
"We have no treasures to bargain with," Taran said in dismay. "Alas
that we do not."
"We couldn't expect you to pay as much as Arawn did," replied Orddu,
"but we're sure you can find something to offer in exchange. Oh, shall we
say... the North Wind in a bag?"
"The North Wind!" Taran exclaimed. "Impossible! How could you ever
dream...?"
"Very well," said Orddu, "we shan't be difficult. The South Wind,
then. It's much gentler."
"You make sport of us," Taran cried angrily. "The price you ask is
beyond what any of us can pay."
Orddu hesitated. "Possibly you're right," she admitted. "Well, then,
something a little more personal. I have it!" she said, beaming at Taran.
"Give us--- give us the nicest summer day you can remember! You can't say
that's hard, since it belongs to you!"
"Yes," Orwen said eagerly. "A lovely summer afternoon full of
sunlight and sleepy scents."
"There's nothing so sweet," murmured Orgoch, sucking a tooth, "as a
tender young lamb's summer afternoon."
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"How can I give you that?" protested Taran. "Or any other day, when
they're--- they're inside of me somewhere? You can't get them out! I mean..."
"We could try," Orgoch muttered.
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