Squatting on Tom Dando’s bunk, with his arms round his knees, was the woebegone figure of Abipaal. His face brightened, through the whiskers, at sight of Arabis.
“Told him you were Tom’s daughter, I did,” Brother Ianto explained.
Seeing Arabis unsling the crwth from her back, Abipaal brightened still more. He seemed astonished to be given a bowl of porridge—but ate it with a good deal of enjoyment; the moment it was finished, however, he made his way to the crwth and began plucking at it experimentally; then he brought it to Arabis with such a beseeching expression that even in her sorrow she could not help smiling. She played him two or three tunes and a look of such ineffable satisfaction spread over his face that Brother Ianto said,
“Lodger for life you have, I am thinking. I do not believe he will go back to Rum with the others.”
“Why should he, if he does not want to go?” said Arabis. “Welcome he is to stay here.”
One or twice Abipaal looked hopefully at the Harp of Teirtu, which he had with him in Tom Dando’s bunk. But Arabis shook her head.
“Learn to play it one day I will,” she told him. “But too soon it is now, see?” And he seemed to understand.
Then Arabis, looking past him, discovered something missing.
“Dada’s poem!” she cried anxiously.
“Not to worry, is it,” Brother Ianto said. “His highness have borrowed it. He is going to have it published up fine, all in white, with gold endpapers. Now I will say good night to you; off to Pennygaff I am going in the morning with Hwfa, Luggins, Mog and Dove; fixed up with them to come and help me build up that old monastery again, I have. But I will see you both soon, I am thinking.”
A few minutes after Brother Ianto’s departure the Seljuk came to call.
“Ahem!” he said politely. “Should you care for it, my esteemed young lady, damsel, miss, I shall be only too delighted to take you back with me to Rum and give you an honourable establishment there, in requital for the signal services you have rendered my little tribesmen.”
“I do thank your worship,” Arabis replied, “most grateful I am for your offer and I will be glad to visit you one day, but I am not wishful to leave Wales at present.”
And she made the same answer to Prince David when a little later he limped across from the inn and cordially invited her to come and live with him in Windsor Castle, where the Princess of Wales would look after her with every care. But she gratefully accepted his offer to have the “The King at Caerleon” published at his own expense.
After he had left, Mr. Hughes knocked on the wagon door and stumped in. He looked somewhat ill-at-ease, and his embarrassment was not lessened by finding Owen there, with Hawc sitting on his head, and Abipaal, happily picking out simple tunes on the crwth.
However Mr. Hughes was not the man to shirk an unpleasant duty.
“Come to apologize, my dear,” he said gruffly. “Realize now I did you and your good father an injustice when you called at the museum—specially since it turns out the con-foun—blessed harp belonged to you all the time. Harrumph! Heartily sorry for what I said. And”—he boggled a bit but finally brought it out—“same goes for you, too, Owen my boy. Misjudged you. Realize now you acted with great sense and spirit. His highness has said some very pleasant things about you. He is going to send out an expeditionary force to look for your father. What do you think of that, eh?”
Owen’s face lit up. But his joy was too deep for speech.
“Hope you’ll come back and live with me at the museum,” Mr. Hughes went on awkwardly.
“At the museum?” Owen was surprised. “But, Granda, I thought you resigned?”
“Had a message from the Pennygaff Council today asking if I’d go back.” Mr. Hughes sniffed. “Can’t find anyone else to accept their ten shillings a year, I daresay. But what about it? And you too, Arabis, my dear? Do us good to have you with us, wouldn’t it, Owen—brighten the dusty old place up a bit.”
His expression was so anxious and pleading that Arabis said warmly, “Indeed, there is kind you are, Mr. Hughes, bach, and I would like nothing better! Then I can be going to school and getting a bit of learning. But in the summertime, mind you, I must be going back on the road, or I will be forgetting where the healing herbs grow, and old Galahad out there will be growing stiff in the joints with him.”
“And I’ll come with you,” Owen said.
“And you won’t mind little Abipaal?” Arabis mentioned. “Taken up lodging with me, he do seem to have.”
“Oh, not a bit,” Mr. Hughes said. “I daresay he will be a famous help in the museum. Right, then, I am glad to have that settled and I will say good night.” Greatly relieved, he creaked away through the snow. Arabis smiled faintly, as she stood in the doorway looking after him. Owen came to join her.
“You won’t mind living in Pennygaff?” he said anxiously.
“No, I shall be liking it! And Brother Ianto will be there—the Seljuk have given him a great sum of money to rebuild his monastery.”
The blizzard had blown itself out. Overhead, a clear moon rode among stars; downhill the roofs of Nant Agerddau gleamed silver, and beyond lay the Fforest Mwyaf like a wide white counterpane. From inside the wagon came a musical plunk, as Abipaal tightened a string and tried it.
They stood silent, listening. And heard above them the gentle sighing murmur of the Whispering Mountain, the voice of Fig-hat Ben talking in his sleep.
Then Fig-hat Ben shall wear a shroud,
Then shall the despoiler, that was so proud,
Plunge headlong down from the Devil’s Leap;
Then shall the Children from darkness creep,
And the men of the glen avoid disaster,
And the Harp of Teirtu find her master.
Don’t get left behind!
STARSCAPE
Let the journey begin …
From the Two Rivers
The Eye of the World: Part One
by Robert Jordan
Ender’s Game
by Orson Scott Card
Briar Rose
by Jane Yolen
Mairelon the Magician
by Patricia C. Wrede
To the Blight
The Eye of the World: Part Two
by Robert Jordan
Jumper
by Steven Gould
The Cockatrice Boys
by Joan Aiken
Dogland
by Will Shetterly
Ender’s Shadow
by Orson Scott Card
Orvis
by H. M. Hoover
The Garden Behind the Moon
by Howard Pyle
The Dark Side of Nowhere
by Neal Shusterman
Sister Light, Sister Dark
by Jane Yolen
Prince Ombra
by Roderick MacLeish
White Jenna
by Jane Yolen
Wildside
by Steven Gould
The One-Armed Queen
by Jane Yolen
Jumping Off the Planet
by David Gerrold
The College of Magics
by Caroline Stevermer
Deep Secret
by Diana Wynne Jones
City of Darkness
by Ben Bova
The Magician’s Ward
by Patricia C. Wrede
Another Heaven, Another Earth
by H. M. Hoover
Glossary of Welsh Words
achos dybryd foul crime
ach y fi denotes courage
adwr coward
adynod wretches
agerdd steam, vapour
amgueddfa museum
arabus witty
bach little (feminine: fach)
bara brith currant bread
barbwr barber
bendith en mamau fairies
blaidd wolf (plural: bleiddiau)
caer, castell castle
cariad love
, sweetheart
ceffyl horse
ceidwad custodian
crwth instrument like a violin
crwydrad vagabond (plural: crwydriadau)
cwm valley
cwpwrdd cupboard
da chwi I pray you
da iawn well done
derdri the deuce
Dewi Sant Saint David
diafol, diawl the devil
diod hudolus magic potion
does dim dwywaith there’s no doubt
driag dragon
drwg wicked
duw lord (exclamation)
dyn man
ellyll ghost
eryr eagle
ffiloreg fiddlededee, nonsense
ffloring florin
fforest forest
gafr goat
gini guinea
gorynnog pimply
gwalch falcon
Gwalchafed Galahad
gr man
gr drwg devil
hai how alas
haihwchw hullo
hatling mite, half a farthing
hebog hawk, falcon
herwhaliwr wretch
hwch, hwch denotes surprise or dismay
hwhw noise made by owl
hwt get along with you
Ilysiau cwsg poppy
llysiau dryw agrimony
lobscows stew
marchruddygl horseradish
moddion medicine
mynydd mountain: y mynydd sibrwd the whispering mountain
nant brook, glen
Nefoedd Fawr great heavens
os gwelwch yn dda if you please
osey cider
pa herwydd why?
perfagl perwinkle
persli parsley
perwraidd liquorice
perwy perry
picws crumbled oatcake in warm buttermilk
prydydd poet
rheibiwr pillager, enchanter
rhywbard rhubarb
suran sorrel
synamon cinnamon
telyn harp
Tylwyth Teg fair people, fairies
twrch boar
uchelwydd mistletoe
wbwb alas
wchw denotes distress
wynwyn onions
wystrys oysters
y bwci-bo the devil
y mae ofn arnaf i I am afraid
ystraffaldiach wretch
This is a work of fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this book are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
THE WHISPERING MOUNTAIN
Copyright © 1968, 1996 by Joan Aiken
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portions thereof, in any form.
A Starscape Book
Published by Tom Doherty Associates, LLC
175 Fifth Avenue
New York, NY 10010
www.starscapebooks.com
eISBN 9781466820593
First eBook Edition : May 2012
First Starscape edition: May 2002