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It was full springtime, with promise of the richest summer the farm
had ever seen. The orchard was white with fragrant blossoms; the
newly planted fields lay light as green mist. Yet the sights and
scents gave =Tara little joy. To him, =CaerDallben was empty. Though
he helped =Coll with the weeding and cultivating, and tended the white
pig, =HenWen, with as much care as ever, he went about his tasks
distractedly. One thought alone was in his mind.
"Now, my boy," =Coll said good-naturedly, as they finished the morning's
milking, "I've seen you restless as a wolf on a tether ever since you
came back from the Isle of =Mona. Pine for the Princess =Eilonwy if
you must, but don't upset the milk pail." The stout old warrior clapped
=Taran on the shoulder. "Come, cheer up. I'll teach you the high secrets
of planting turnips. Or raising cabbages. Or whatever you might want to
know."

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"You come to small comfort," he said. "My land yields little, so I toil
part in my neighbor's fields to earn what I cannot grow."
"And yet," =Tara said, dismayed to learn =Aeddan's plight. "I have heard
it told there was rich soil in the Valley Cantrevs."
"Was, indeed," replied =Aeddan with a dour laugh. "In the time of my
forefathers, not in mine. As the Hill Cantrevs were famed for their long-fleeced
sheep, so the Valley Cantrevs of =Ystrad were known far and wide for the
finest oats and barley, and Cantrev =Cadiffor itself for wheat bright and
heavy as gold. And golden days there must have been in all =Prydain,"
=Aeddan went on, cutting the bread and cheese into portions and handing them
to =Taran and Gurgi. "My father's father told a tale, already old when it
was told to him, of plows that worked of themselves, of scythes that reaped
a harvest without even the touch of a man's hand."

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"Sire, the fighting grows hotter," the messenger said urgently. "Neither one
will leave off. Each blames the other for loss of his herd. Lord =Goryon swears
vengeance on Lord =Gast; and Lord =Gast swears vengeance on Lord =Goryon."
"They've both been itching for battle," =Smoit burst out. "Now they find their
excuse!" He summoned one of his warriors, ordering him to take =Goryon's
messenger to =CaerCadarn, there to be held as hostage. "To horse, the rest of
you," =Smoit commanded. "My body and bones, we'll see sport after all." He
gripped his axe. "Oh, there'll be heads broken today," he cried with relish,
and his battered face brightened as if he were on his way to a feast!

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=Taran, curious, took the frog from the bard's hand. =LLyan, he saw, had
carried the creature gently and had in no way harmed it. Instead, the frog had
suffered from lack of water. Its skin, splotched in green and yellow, was sadly
parched. Its legs feebly splayed; its webbed toes had begun to curl and wither
like dry leaves; and its great bulging eyes were tightly shut. Regretfully, =Taran
was about to return the creature to the bushes when the faint tremor or a
heartbeat touched his palm.
"=Fflewddur, the poor thing's alive," =Taran said. "There may still be time to save him."
The bard shook his head. "I doubt it. He's too much the worse for wear. A shame,
for he's a jolly-looking fellow."

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At the sight of it =Morda's face seemed to crumble in decay. His jaw dropped, his lips
trembled, and his voice came in a rasping whisper. "What do you hold, pig-keeper? Give
it into my hands. Give it, I command you."
"It is a small thing my companions and I found," replied =Taran. "How should this have
worth to you, =Morda? With all your power, do you covet such a trifle?"
A sickly sweat had begun to pearl on the wizard's brow. His features twitched and his
void took on a gentleness all the more horrible coming from his lips. "Bold lad to
stand against me," he murmured. "I did no more than test your courage to see if you were
worthy to serve me, worthy of rich rewards. You shall have gold in proof of my
friendship. And if proof of yours, you shall give me -- the small thing, the trifle
you hold in your hand."

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"We meant you no discourtesty," =Taran answered. "Bear us no ill will, for we bear you
none. Farewell to you and your Company."
Much relieved, he beckonded =Grugi and the bard and turned away.
=Dorath's hand gripped his shoulder. "How then," =Dorath cried, "will you go your way
without settling the small matter between us?"
=Taran halted, surprised, as =Dorath went on.
"Why, there is payment to be reckoned, Lord Swineherd. Will you cheat me of my fee?
We are poor men, Lord; too poor to give where we do not receive."
The warriors laughed harshly. =Dorath's heavy face had twisted into a leering humility,
which =Taran found all the more fearsome by its falsity, and the man cried out in an
accusing, begging tone, "You have eaten our meat and drunk our wine. All night you slept
safely under our protection. Is that worth nothing to you?"

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=Taran nodded, but made no further answer.
Since the winter tasks were short, the brief days seemed longer. Evening by the fire,
to while away the time, =Craddoc told of his youth, of his settling in the valley. As
the herdsman spoke of his hopes and hardships, =Taran's admiration quickened, and for
the first time he saw =Craddoc as a man who had been not unlike himself.
Thus, at =Craddoc's urging, =Taran was willing to tell of his days at =CaerDallben and
all that had befallen him. =Craddoc's face brightened with fatherly pride as he heard
of these adventures. Yet, often =Taran would stop in the midst of his recounting when
memories of =Eilonwy and all his life long past would surge suddenly and break upon him
like a wave. Then he would break off abruptly, turn his face away and stare at the fire.
Those times, =Craddoc pressed him to speak no further.

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"Wanderer," he cried, "you've made much from little, and done it better than ever I could!"
Over the next few days the mill not only ground the family's grain, =Taran also struck on
a means of using it as a sharpening stone for =Llonio's tools. Looking at his handiwork,
=Taran felt a stirring of pride for the first time since leaving =Craddoc's valley. But
with it came a vague restiveness.
"By rights," he told =Gurgi," I should be more than happy to dwell here all my life. I've
found peace and friendship -- and a kind of hope, as well. It's eased my heart like balm
on a wound." He hesitated. "Yet, somehow =Llonio's way is not mine. A spur drives me to
seek more than what =SmallAvren brings. What I seek, I do not know. But alas, I know it is
not here."
He spoke then with =Llonio and regretfully told him he must take up his journeying again.
This time, sensing =Taran's decision firmly made, =Llonio did not urge him to stay, and
they bade each other farewell.

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=Annlaw did not gainsay him, but only looked at him for a long while with deep sadness.
"Why," =Taran whispered? "Why is this so?"
"It is a heavy question," =Annlaw replied at last. He put a hand on =Taran's shoulder.
"Indeed, no man can answer it. There are those who have labored all their lives to gain the
gift, striving until the end only to find themselves mistaken; and those who had it born
in them yet never knew; those who lost heart too soon; and those who should never have begun
at all."
"Count yourself lucky," the potter went on, "that you have understood this now and not
spent your years in vain hope. This much have you learned, and no learning is wasted."
"What then shall I do," =Taran asked? Grief and bitterness such as he had known in
=Craddoc's valley flooded over him.

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"At first," he went on, "I thought =Orddu had sent a fool on a fool's errand. She did not.
She meant me to see what the Mirror showed me. Any stream, any river would have given me
the same reflection, but I would not have understood it then as I understand it now."
"As for my parentage," he added, "it makes little difference. True kinship has naught
to do with blood ties, however strong they be. I think we are all kin, brothers and sisters
one to the other, all children of all parents. And the birthright I once sought, I seek it
no longer. The folk of the Free Commots taught me well, that manhood is not given but
earned. Even King =Smoit in Cantrev =Cadiffor told me this, but I did not heed him."