A thousand years ago, in the Celtic kingdoms of
Wales, great lords gave great feasts for their fighting
men and courtiers. In timbered halls, for days on end,
heaps of meat and bread were washed down with gallons of
beer and mead. And in between the meals, when bellies
were stuffed and spirits high, the storyteller rose and
spun his tales of times long past. He told of lords,
bold and generous. He told of ladies, grand and
glorious. He told of friends, brave and faithful. But of
all he told about, no friend was more reliable than
Manawydan, son of Llyr. No lady was more admirable than
Rhiannon. And no lord was more honorable than Pwyll,
King of Dyfed. The halls are now long gone -- yet
some tales were written down and gathered in a book we
call today The Mabinogion. And so the tales live on. . .
. For ages 10 and up. Not
illustrated! ///////////////////////////////////////////////// Aaron
Shepard is the award-winning author of "The Baker's
Dozen," "The Sea King's Daughter," "The Monkey King,"
and many more children's books. His stories have
appeared often in Cricket magazine, while his Web site
is known internationally as a prime resource for
folktales, storytelling, and reader's theater. Once a
professional storyteller, Aaron specializes in lively
retellings of folktales and other traditional
literature, which have won him honors from the American
Library Association, the New York Public Library, the
Bank Street College of Education, the National Council
for the Social Studies, and the American Folklore
Society. ///////////////////////////////////////////////// "Highly
recommended . . . . A brief yet exciting and exotic
fable of heroes striving to make their mark and protect
those most dear to them in a fantastic world." --
Children's Bookwatch (Midwest Library Review), Jan.
2007 "Written in a lyrical voice that channels the
ghosts of storytellers past. . . . Great for a librarian
or teacher to read to a class." -- Sheila Ruth, Wands
and Worlds, Jan. 2007 "A clear, simple, beautiful
retelling. Those familiar with the source material will
recognise how masterly a piece of work Shepard has
crafted from notoriously challenging material. . . .
Best of all, the language has retained the full richness
of the underlying Celtic music." -- Louise Owen, Celtic
Cafe ///////////////////////////////////////////////// SAMPLE The
next day, after the midday meal, Pwyll said to
Manawydan, "Let us walk again on the mount. But this
time, we'll bring my horse along." So once more they
climbed the mount. And they had not sat long when they
saw the same lady, in the same dress and veil, on the
same horse, on the same road, coming at the same slow,
steady pace. Pwyll speedily mounted his horse, but as
he reached the foot of the mount, she was already riding
past the spot. Then he let his horse prance after,
thinking to easily overtake her. When he did not, he
gave his horse the rein. It began to trot, yet fell even
farther behind. Then he spurred it to a gallop -- but at
its greatest speed, it lost more ground than ever. And
still the lady rode no faster than a walk. At last
his horse began to fail, and he called out, "Lady, in
the name of the man you hold dearest, please
halt." "I will," she said. "And for the sake of your
horse, you could have asked it sooner."
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