The Castle of Llyr by Lloyd Alexander Page B

try to slip by him and find it ourselves?”
    â€œI don’t know,” answered Fflewddur. “From all the giants I’ve seen—yes, well, the truth of it is I’ve never seen any myself, though I’ve heard enough of them—Glew seems rather, how shall I say it, small! I don’t know if I’m making myself clear, but he was a feeble little fellow to begin with and now he’s a feeble little giant! And very likely a coward. I’m sure we could fight him, if we could
reach him. Our biggest risk would be getting stepped on and squashed.”
    â€œI’m truly sorry for him,” Taran began, “but I don’t know how we can help him, and we dare not delay our search.”
    â€œYou’re not listening!” cried Glew, who had been talking on at some length before realizing he was talking mainly to himself. “Yes, it’s the same thing all over again,” he sobbed. “Even if I’m a giant, no one pays me any mind! Oh, I can tell you there are giants that would crack your bones and squeeze you until your eyes popped. You’d listen to them, you can be sure. But not Glew! Oh, it makes no difference about him , giant or no! Glew the giant, mewed up in a wretched cave and who’s to care? Who’s even to see?”
    â€œNow look here,” answered Fflewddur with some impatience, for the giant had begun to sob and splash the companions with tears, “you’ve only yourself to blame if you’ve put yourself into a stew. You meddled, and as I’ve said time and again, it leads to sad results.”
    â€œI didn’t want to be a giant,” protested Glew, “not at first anyway. I thought, once, I should be a famous warrior. I joined the host of Lord Goryon when he marched against Lord Gast. But I couldn’t stand the sight of blood. It turned me green, green as grass. And those battles! Enough to make your head swim! All that clashing and smiting! The din alone is more than flesh can bear! No, no, it was absolutely out of the question.”
    â€œA warrior’s life is one of hardship,” Taran said, “and it takes a stout heart to follow it. Surely there were other means to make a name for yourself.”

    â€œI thought, then, I might become a bard,” Glew went on. “It turned out as badly. The knowledge you must gain, the lore to be learned …”
    â€œI’m with you there, old fellow,” murmured Fflewddur, with a sigh of regret. “I had rather the same experience.”
    â€œIt wasn’t the years of study,” explained Glew in a voice that would have been forlorn had it not been so loud. “I know I could have learned if I’d taken the time. No, it was my feet. I couldn’t bear all the tramping and wandering around from one end of Prydain to the other. And always sleeping in a different place. And the change of water. And the harp rubbing blisters on your shoulder …”
    â€œWe grieve for you,” interrupted Taran, shifting restlessly, “but we cannot tarry here.”
    Glew had crouched down in front of the companions and Taran tried desperately to think of the best means of getting past him.
    â€œPlease, please don’t go!” cried Glew, as if reading Taran’s thoughts, his eyes blinking frantically. “Not yet! I’ll show you a passage in a moment, I promise.”
    â€œYes, yes!” shouted Gurgi, at last able to bring himself to open his eyes and clamber to his feet. “Gurgi does not like caverns. And his poor tender head is filled with soundings and poundings!”
    â€œIt was then I decided to become a hero,” Glew eagerly went on, ignoring the impatience of the companions, “to go about slaying dragons and such. But you can’t imagine how difficult it is. Why, even finding a dragon is almost impossible! But I discovered one in Cantrev Mawr.

    â€œIt was a small dragon,” admitted Glew.