Read Online The Carpet People by Terry Pratchett - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Terry Pratchett
Tags: SF
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badger, hunting early, nearly blundered into the line of would-be invaders and waddled off hurriedly.
There was a whispered argument going on among the Deftmenes. Some of them wanted to sing as they went into battle, which was a tradition. Brocando kept pointing out that they were going into battle secretly, but one or two diehard traditionalists were holding out for the right to sing peaceful songs, which would-they said-totally confuse the enemy. In the end Brocando won by playing the king, and threatening to have everyone who disagreed with him put to death. Glurk was impressed.
When it began to seem to Snibril that the dark Carpet had no ending they reached the road again and, ahead of them, torches burning along its walls, was the city of Jeopard.
CHAPTER 9
The wights built Jeopard. They brought red wood and sparkling varnish from achairleg to pave its streets; from the Hearthlands they led great caravans of the rare jet, to be made into domes and cornices, and cinder and ash for bricks and mortar; at the distant High Gate Land of the Vortgorns they traded their varnish wares for beaten bronze, for doors and pillars; salt and sugar, in great white crystals, were dragged between the hairs by teams of sweating horses, for walls and roofs. And they brought different coloured hairs from all parts of the Carpet. Some became planks and rafters, but most they planted around the city.
Everywhere there were gardens. In the evening light it looked peaceful, but they had to lie low twice when moul cavalry went past on the road.
"In my city, too," said Brocando.
"You've got a plan, I hope," said Bane.
"There's another way into the city," said Brocando.
"I didn't know that."
"Didn't you?" said Brocando. "Amazing. All that trouble to build a secret passage and we forgot to tell the Emperor. Remind me to send him a note. Turn right into that little hidden track there."
"What track?"
Brocando grinned. "Good, isn't it," he said.
It looked like an animal path. It wound round and about the hairs. The dust bushes were much thicker here.
"Planted," said Brocando.
Eventually, when it was almost dark, they reached a small glade with another ruined temple in it.
"Temples don't last long around here, do they," said Snibril, looking around at the crowding hairs. Here and there were more statues, half covered in dust.
"This one was built to look ruined," said Brocando. "By the wights. For one of my ancestors. The one over there, with the bird's nest on his head and his arm raised-" He hesitated. "And you're a Dumii, and I've brought you to the secret place," he said. "I should have you blindfolded."
"No," said Bane. "You want me to fight for you, then I'm wearing no blindfold."
"But one day you might come back with an army."
"I'm sorry you think so," said Bane stonily.
"As me, I don't," said Brocando. "As a king, I have to think so."
"Ha!"
"This is stupid," said Snibril. "Why bother with a blindfold?"
"It's important," said Brocando, sulkily.
"You've got to trust one another sooner or later. Who are you going to trust instead? You're men of honour, aren't you?" said Snibril.
"It's not as simple as that," said Brocando.
"Then make it simple!"
He realized he had shouted. Even Glurk was surprised.
"Well, it's no time to argue," said Snibril, calming down a bit.
Brocando nodded. "Yes. Very well. Maybe. I'm sure he's an honourable man. Pull Broc's arm."
"What?" said Bane.
"Behind you. On the statue. Pull the arm," said Brocando.
Bane shrugged, and reached for the arm.
"First time a Dumii's ever shaken a Deftmene's hand," he said. "I wonder what it'll lead to-"
There was a grinding noise, somewhere under their feet. A slab in the temple floor slid aside, showing a flight of steps.
"It'll lead to the palace," said Brocando, grinning.
They stared into the square of darkness.
Finally Glurk said: "You don't mean ... into the Underlay?"
"Yes!"
"But ... but ... there's terrible things down there!"
"Just stories for
There was a whispered argument going on among the Deftmenes. Some of them wanted to sing as they went into battle, which was a tradition. Brocando kept pointing out that they were going into battle secretly, but one or two diehard traditionalists were holding out for the right to sing peaceful songs, which would-they said-totally confuse the enemy. In the end Brocando won by playing the king, and threatening to have everyone who disagreed with him put to death. Glurk was impressed.
When it began to seem to Snibril that the dark Carpet had no ending they reached the road again and, ahead of them, torches burning along its walls, was the city of Jeopard.
CHAPTER 9
The wights built Jeopard. They brought red wood and sparkling varnish from achairleg to pave its streets; from the Hearthlands they led great caravans of the rare jet, to be made into domes and cornices, and cinder and ash for bricks and mortar; at the distant High Gate Land of the Vortgorns they traded their varnish wares for beaten bronze, for doors and pillars; salt and sugar, in great white crystals, were dragged between the hairs by teams of sweating horses, for walls and roofs. And they brought different coloured hairs from all parts of the Carpet. Some became planks and rafters, but most they planted around the city.
Everywhere there were gardens. In the evening light it looked peaceful, but they had to lie low twice when moul cavalry went past on the road.
"In my city, too," said Brocando.
"You've got a plan, I hope," said Bane.
"There's another way into the city," said Brocando.
"I didn't know that."
"Didn't you?" said Brocando. "Amazing. All that trouble to build a secret passage and we forgot to tell the Emperor. Remind me to send him a note. Turn right into that little hidden track there."
"What track?"
Brocando grinned. "Good, isn't it," he said.
It looked like an animal path. It wound round and about the hairs. The dust bushes were much thicker here.
"Planted," said Brocando.
Eventually, when it was almost dark, they reached a small glade with another ruined temple in it.
"Temples don't last long around here, do they," said Snibril, looking around at the crowding hairs. Here and there were more statues, half covered in dust.
"This one was built to look ruined," said Brocando. "By the wights. For one of my ancestors. The one over there, with the bird's nest on his head and his arm raised-" He hesitated. "And you're a Dumii, and I've brought you to the secret place," he said. "I should have you blindfolded."
"No," said Bane. "You want me to fight for you, then I'm wearing no blindfold."
"But one day you might come back with an army."
"I'm sorry you think so," said Bane stonily.
"As me, I don't," said Brocando. "As a king, I have to think so."
"Ha!"
"This is stupid," said Snibril. "Why bother with a blindfold?"
"It's important," said Brocando, sulkily.
"You've got to trust one another sooner or later. Who are you going to trust instead? You're men of honour, aren't you?" said Snibril.
"It's not as simple as that," said Brocando.
"Then make it simple!"
He realized he had shouted. Even Glurk was surprised.
"Well, it's no time to argue," said Snibril, calming down a bit.
Brocando nodded. "Yes. Very well. Maybe. I'm sure he's an honourable man. Pull Broc's arm."
"What?" said Bane.
"Behind you. On the statue. Pull the arm," said Brocando.
Bane shrugged, and reached for the arm.
"First time a Dumii's ever shaken a Deftmene's hand," he said. "I wonder what it'll lead to-"
There was a grinding noise, somewhere under their feet. A slab in the temple floor slid aside, showing a flight of steps.
"It'll lead to the palace," said Brocando, grinning.
They stared into the square of darkness.
Finally Glurk said: "You don't mean ... into the Underlay?"
"Yes!"
"But ... but ... there's terrible things down there!"
"Just stories for
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