“Child, child,” Dallben interrupted, “your ring can indeed grant you a wish, and one wish alone. But evil cannot be conquered by wishing. The ring will serve only you, and grant only the deepest wish of your own heart. I did not tell you before because I was uncertain that you truly knew what you longed for.
“Turn the ring once upon your finger,” Dallben said. “Wish with all your heart for your enchanted powers to vanish.”
Wondering and almost fearful, Eilonwy closed her eyes and did the enchanter’s bidding. The ring flared suddenly, but only for a moment. The girl gave a sharp cry of pain. And in Taran’s hand the light of the golden bauble winked out.
“It is done,” Dallben murmured.
Eilonwy blinked and looked around her. “I don’t feel a bit different,” she remarked. “Are my enchantments truly gone?”
Dallben nodded. “Yes,” he said gently. “Yet you shall always keep the magic and mystery all women share. And I fear that Taran, like all men, shall be often baffled by it. But, such is the way of it. Come, clasp hands the two of you, and pledge each other your troth.”
When they had done so, the companions pressed around the wedded couple to wish them happiness. Then Gwydion and Taliesin went from the cottage and Dallben took up his ash-wood staff.
“We can tarry no longer,” the enchanter said, “and here our ways must part.”
“But what of Hen Wen?” Taran asked. “Shall I not see her one last time?”
“As often as you please,” answered Dallben. “Since she was free to go or stay, I know she will choose to remain with you. But I suggest you first let those visitors trampling about the fields see there is a new High King in Prydain, and a new Queen. Gwydion will have proclaimed the tidings and your subjects will be impatient to hail you.”
The companions following, Taran and Eilonwy left the chamber. But at the cottage door, Taran drew back and turned to Dallben. “Can one such as I rule a kingdom? I remember a time when I jumped headfirst into a thornbush and I fear kingship will be no different.”
“Very likely more nettlesome,” put in Eilonwy. “But should you have any difficulties, I’ll be happy to give you my advice. Right now, there’s only one question: Are you going in or out of this doorway?”
In the waiting throng beyond the cottage, Taran glimpsed Hevydd, Llassar, the folk of the Commots, Gast and Goryon side by side near the farmer Aeddan, King Smoit towering above them, his beard bright as flame. But many were the well-loved faces he saw clearly only with his heart. A sudden burst of cheering voices greeted him as he took Eilonwy’s hand tightly in his own and stepped through the door.
And so they lived many happy years, and the promised tasks were accomplished. Yet long afterward, when all had passed away into distant memory, there were many who wondered whether King Taran, Queen Eilonwy, and their companions had indeed walked the earth, or whether they had been no more than dreams in a tale set down to beguile children. And, in time, only the bards knew the truth of it.
Author’s Note
Despite their shortcomings, no books have given me greater joy in the writing than the Chronicles of Prydain. I come sadly to the end of this journey, aware of the impossibility of commenting objectively on a work which has absorbed me so long and so personally.
I must, however, warn readers of this fifth chronicle to expect the unexpected. Its structure is somewhat different, its range wider. If there is more external conflict, I have tried to add more inner content; if the form follows that of the traditional hero tale, the individuals, I hope, are genuinely human. And although it deals with a battle on a epic scale, where Taran, Princess Eilonwy, Fflewddur Fflam, even the oracular pig Hen Wen, are pressed to the limits of their strength, it is a battle whose aftermath is deeper in consequences than the struggle itself. The final choice, which even faithful Gurgi cannot avoid, is almost too hard to bear. Fortunately, it is never offered to us in the real world—not, at least, in such unmistakable terms. In another sense, we face this kind of choice again and again, because for us it is never final. Whether the Assistant Pig-Keeper chose well, whether the ending is happy, heartbreaking, or both, readers must decide for themselves.
Like the previous tales, this adventure can be read independently of the others. Nevertheless, certain long-standing questions are resolved here. Why was that sneering scoundrel, Magg, allowed to escape from the Castle of Llyr? Whatever became of the small-hearted giant, Glew? Can Achren really be trusted in Caer Dallben? And, of course, the secret of Taran’s parentage. Readers who have been asking me these questions will see why I could not, until now, answer them fully without spoiling the surprises.
As for Prydain itself, part Wales as it is, but more as it never was: at first, I thought it a small land existing only in my imagination. Since then, for me it has become much larger. While it grew from Welsh legend, it has broadened into my attempt to make a land of fantasy relevant to a world of reality.
The first friends of the Companions are as steadfast today as they were at the beginning; many I thought were new have turned out to have been old friends all along. I owe all of them considerably more than they may suspect; and, as always, I offer these pages to them fondly, hoping they will find the result not too far below the promise. If time has tried their patience with me, it has only deepened my affection for them.
The Chronicles of Prydain by Lloyd Alexander:
The Book of Three
Taran the Assistant Pig-Keeper assembles a group of companions to rescue the oracular pig Hen Wen from the forces of evil.
The Black Cauldron
Newbery Honor Book
The warriors of Prydain set out to find and destroy the Black Cauldron, the Death-Lord Arawn’s chief instrument of evil.
The Castle of Llyr
Princess Eilonwy is growing up and must learn to act like a lady rather than a heroine among heroes.
Taran Wanderer
Taran faces a long and lonely search for his identity among the hills and marshes, farmers and common people of Prydain.
The High King
Newbery Medal Winner
The final struggle between good and evil dramatically concludes the fate of Prydain, and of Taran who wanted to be a hero.
Also available:
The Foundling and Other Tales of Prydain by Lloyd Alexander
Eight short stories evoke the land of Prydain before the adventures of Taran the Assistant Pig-Keeper.
The Prydain Companion:
A Reference Guide to Lloyd Alexander’s Prydain Chronicles by Michael O. Tunnell
Prydain Pronunciation Guide
Achren AHK-ren
Adaon ah-DAY-on
Aeddan EE-dan
Angharad an-GAR-ad
Annuvin ah-NOO-vin
Arawn ah-RAWN
Arianllyn ahree-AHN-lin
Briavael bree-AH-vel
Brynach BRIHN-ak
Caer Cadarn kare KAH-darn
Caer Colur kare KOH-loor
Caer Dathyl kare DA-thil
Coll kahl
Dallben DAHL-ben
Doli DOH-lee
Don dahn
Dwyvach DWIH-vak
Dyrnwyn DUHRN-win
Edyrnion eh-DIR-nyon
Eiddileg eye-DILL-eg
Eilonwy eye-LAHN-wee
Ellidyr ELLI-deer
Fflewddur Fflam FLEW-der flam
Geraint GHER-aint
Goewin GOH-win
Govannion go-VAH-nyon
Gurgi GHER-ghee
Gwydion GWIH-dyon
Gwythaint GWIH-thaint
Islimach iss-LIM-ahk
Llawgadarn law-GAD-arn
Lluagor lew-AH-gore
Llunet LOO-net
Llyan lee-AHN
Llyr leer
Melyngar MELLIN-gar
Melynlas MELLIN-lass
Oeth-Anoeth eth-AHN-eth
Orddu OR-doo
Orgoch OR-gahk
Orwen OR-wen
Prydain prih-DANE
/>
Pryderi prih-DAY-ree
Rhuddlum ROOD-lum
Rhun roon
Smoit smoyt
Taliesin tally-ESS-in
Taran TAH-ran
Teleria tell-EHR-ya
About the Author
Although the imaginary realm of Prydain slowly grew from the diverse elements of Lloyd Alexander’s research, many aspects have a very personal meaning to him. Like Taran the Assistant Pig-Keeper, Mr. Alexander tried his hand hopefully but unsuccessfully at weaving and pottery; he is a would-be musician, and what might be the prototype of Fflewddur Fflam’s harp, broken strings and all, stands on his mantel at home; he admits to being as distraught as Gwystyl and as fearful as Gurgi.
With this fifth and last book in the Chronicles of Prydain, Mr. Alexander completed a work of some thousand pages and close to a quarter million words. With each successive volume, he received growing amounts of mail from curious friends of the Companions. He says, “One of the hardest things during the writing of The High King was resisting the temptation to reveal the ending ahead of time to a number of readers (not all of them young people, either) who were most impatient to find out who Taran really was. I couldn’t even let on whether their guesses were right or wrong. But now that the secret has been told, I hope those readers who guessed almost right will still be surprised.”
Lloyd Alexander was born and raised in Philadelphia. As a boy he decided that he wanted to be a writer. “If reading offered any preparation for writing, there were grounds for hope. I had been reading as long as I could remember. Shakespeare, Dickens, Mark Twain, and so many others were my dearest friends and greatest teachers. I loved all the world’s mythologies; King Arthur was one of my heroes; I played with a trash-can lid for a knightly shield, and my uncle’s cane for the sword Excalibur.”
During World War II, Mr. Alexander trained as a member of an army combat intelligence team in Wales. This ancient, rough-hewn country with its castles, mountains, and its own beautiful language made a tremendous impression on him, but not until years later did he realize that he had been given a glimpse of another enchanted kingdom.
After the war, while attending the University of Paris, he met his future wife, Janine. They were married, and moved back to Philadelphia, where Mr. Alexander wrote novel after novel. It was seven years before his first novel at last was published. Ten years later, he tried writing for children. It was, Mr. Alexander says, “the most creative and liberating experience of my life. In books for young people, I was able to express my own deepest feelings far more than I could ever do in writing for adults.”
While doing historical research for a Welsh episode in his first children’s book, Time Cat, he discovered such riches that he decided to save them for a whole book. He delved into all sorts of volumes, from anthropology to the writings of an eighteenth-century Welsh clergyman to the Mabinogion, the classic collection of Welsh legends. From his readings emerged such characters as Gwydion Son of Don, Arawn Death-Lord of Annuvin, Dallben the old enchanter, and the oracular pig Hen Wen. The landscape and mood of Prydain came from Mr. Alexander’s vivid recollections of the land of Wales that had so enchanted him twenty years earlier.
The five books in the Chronicles of Prydain are The Book of Three (an ALA Notable Book), The Black Cauldron (a Newbery Honor Book), The Castle of Llyr (an ALA Notable Book), Taran Wanderer, and The High King (winner of the 1969 Newbery Medal). He followed the chronicles in 1973 with a collection of short stories, The Foundling and Other Tales of Prydain.
Copyright © 1968 by Lloyd Alexander. Renewed 1996.
Map copyright © 1968 by Evaline Ness
Pronunciation Guide copyright @ 1999 by Henry Holt and Company
All rights reserved.
Henry Holt and Company, LLC, Publishers since 1866
175 Fifth Avenue, New York, New York 10010
www.HenryHoltKids.com
Henry Holt® is a registered trademark of Henry Holt and Company, LLC.
eISBN 9781429961981
First eBook Edition : July 2011
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Alexander, Lloyd.
The high king / by Lloyd Alexander
p. cm.—(The chronicles of Prydain: 5)
Summary: In this final part of the chronicles of Prydain, the forces of good and evil meet in an ultimate
confrontation, which determines the fate of Taran the Assistant Pig-Keeper who wanted to be a hero.
[1. Fantasy]. I. Title II. Series: Alexander, Lloyd, Chronicles of Prydain: 5.
PZ7.A3774H1 1999 [Fic]—dc21 98-40900
Revised Edition—1999
Lloyd Alexander, The High King
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