Read Online The Carpet People by Terry Pratchett - Free Book Online
Authors: Terry Pratchett
Tags: SF
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back for a few days-"
"A year," said Bane.
"-and he calls himself king! I never did like Antiroc. Always skulking and muttering and not keen on sports."
"But how did mouls get into the city?" said Snibril.
"He let them in! Tell the man, Strephon!"
The boy was about seven years old, and looked terrified.
"I ... I ... they were ... everyone fought ... " he stuttered.
"Come on! Come on! Out with it, lad!"
"I think," said Bane, "that perhaps you ought to wander off for a minute or two, perhaps? He might find it easier to talk."
"I am his king!"
"That's what I mean. When they're standing right in front of you, kings are a kind of speech impediment. If you'd just, oh, go and inspect the guard or something ... ?"
Brocando grumbled about this, but wandered off with Glurk and Snibril.
"Huh. Brothers!" he muttered. "Nothing but trouble, eh? Plotting and skulking and hanging around and usurping."
Glurk felt he had to show solidarity with the unofficial association of older brothers.
"Snibril never kept his room tidy, I know that," he said.
When they got back Strephon was wearing Bane's helmet and looking a lot more cheerful. Bane sent him off with an instruction to do something dangerous.
"If you want it in grown-up language," he said, "your brother took over the throne when you didn't come back. He wasn't very popular. There was quite a lot of fighting. So when a pack of mouls arrived one day-he invited them in."
"He wouldn't!" said Brocando.
"He thought he could hire them as mercenaries, to fight for him. Well, they fought all right. They say he's still king, although no-one has seen him. The mouls do all the ruling. A lot of people ran away. The rest are slaves, more or less. Quarrying grit. Forced labour in the fields. That sort of thing."
"The mouls don't look as if they'd be interested in vegetables," said Snibril.
"They eat meat."
Pismire had been sitting against one of the cartwheels, wrapped in the blanket; travel was not agreeing with him. They'd almost forgotten about him.
His words sunk in like rocks. In fact it wasn't the words themselves that were disturbing. Everyone ate meat. But he gave the word a particular edge that suggested, not ordinary meat ...
Brocando went white.
"Do you mean-?"
"They eat animals," said Pismire, looking more miserable than Snibril had ever seen him before. "Unfortunately, they consider everything that's not a moul is an animal. Um. I don't know how to say this ... do you know what the word 'moul' means in moul language? Hmm? It means ... True Human Beings."
This sunk in, too.
"We'll attack tonight," said Brocando. "No-one's eating my subjects."
"Er," said Glurk.
"Oh yes," said Bane. "Yes, indeed. Fine. Five thousand soldiers couldn't attack Jeopard."
"That's true," said Brocando. "So we-"
"Er," said Glurk.
"Yes?" said Brocando.
The chieftain appeared to have something on his mind. "I've heard one or two references just recently to 'we'," he said. "I just want to get this sorted out? No offence. As a reward for rescuing you, we're now going to attack this city that no amount of Dumii soldiers could capture and fight a lot of mouls? You want my tribe, which hasn't got a home now, to save your city for you, even though this is impossible? Have I got it right, yes?"
"Good man!" said Brocando, "I knew we could depend on you! I shall need half a dozen stouthearted men!"
"I think I can let you have one astonished one," said Glurk.
"We've got to help," said Snibril. "Everyone's too tired to run away. Anyway, what will happen if we don't? Sooner or later we've got to fight these things. It might as well be here."
"Outnumbered!" said Bane. "And you're not soldiers!"
"No," said Glurk. "We're hunters."
"Well done!" said Brocando.
Glurk nudged Snibril. "Have we just volunteered for practically certain death?" he said.
"I think we may have, yes."
"This kinging is amazing," said Glurk. "If we get out of this, I think I'm going to try to learn it."
Night came. A blue
"A year," said Bane.
"-and he calls himself king! I never did like Antiroc. Always skulking and muttering and not keen on sports."
"But how did mouls get into the city?" said Snibril.
"He let them in! Tell the man, Strephon!"
The boy was about seven years old, and looked terrified.
"I ... I ... they were ... everyone fought ... " he stuttered.
"Come on! Come on! Out with it, lad!"
"I think," said Bane, "that perhaps you ought to wander off for a minute or two, perhaps? He might find it easier to talk."
"I am his king!"
"That's what I mean. When they're standing right in front of you, kings are a kind of speech impediment. If you'd just, oh, go and inspect the guard or something ... ?"
Brocando grumbled about this, but wandered off with Glurk and Snibril.
"Huh. Brothers!" he muttered. "Nothing but trouble, eh? Plotting and skulking and hanging around and usurping."
Glurk felt he had to show solidarity with the unofficial association of older brothers.
"Snibril never kept his room tidy, I know that," he said.
When they got back Strephon was wearing Bane's helmet and looking a lot more cheerful. Bane sent him off with an instruction to do something dangerous.
"If you want it in grown-up language," he said, "your brother took over the throne when you didn't come back. He wasn't very popular. There was quite a lot of fighting. So when a pack of mouls arrived one day-he invited them in."
"He wouldn't!" said Brocando.
"He thought he could hire them as mercenaries, to fight for him. Well, they fought all right. They say he's still king, although no-one has seen him. The mouls do all the ruling. A lot of people ran away. The rest are slaves, more or less. Quarrying grit. Forced labour in the fields. That sort of thing."
"The mouls don't look as if they'd be interested in vegetables," said Snibril.
"They eat meat."
Pismire had been sitting against one of the cartwheels, wrapped in the blanket; travel was not agreeing with him. They'd almost forgotten about him.
His words sunk in like rocks. In fact it wasn't the words themselves that were disturbing. Everyone ate meat. But he gave the word a particular edge that suggested, not ordinary meat ...
Brocando went white.
"Do you mean-?"
"They eat animals," said Pismire, looking more miserable than Snibril had ever seen him before. "Unfortunately, they consider everything that's not a moul is an animal. Um. I don't know how to say this ... do you know what the word 'moul' means in moul language? Hmm? It means ... True Human Beings."
This sunk in, too.
"We'll attack tonight," said Brocando. "No-one's eating my subjects."
"Er," said Glurk.
"Oh yes," said Bane. "Yes, indeed. Fine. Five thousand soldiers couldn't attack Jeopard."
"That's true," said Brocando. "So we-"
"Er," said Glurk.
"Yes?" said Brocando.
The chieftain appeared to have something on his mind. "I've heard one or two references just recently to 'we'," he said. "I just want to get this sorted out? No offence. As a reward for rescuing you, we're now going to attack this city that no amount of Dumii soldiers could capture and fight a lot of mouls? You want my tribe, which hasn't got a home now, to save your city for you, even though this is impossible? Have I got it right, yes?"
"Good man!" said Brocando, "I knew we could depend on you! I shall need half a dozen stouthearted men!"
"I think I can let you have one astonished one," said Glurk.
"We've got to help," said Snibril. "Everyone's too tired to run away. Anyway, what will happen if we don't? Sooner or later we've got to fight these things. It might as well be here."
"Outnumbered!" said Bane. "And you're not soldiers!"
"No," said Glurk. "We're hunters."
"Well done!" said Brocando.
Glurk nudged Snibril. "Have we just volunteered for practically certain death?" he said.
"I think we may have, yes."
"This kinging is amazing," said Glurk. "If we get out of this, I think I'm going to try to learn it."
Night came. A blue
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