The Carpet People by Terry Pratchett Read Free Book Online

other people? Even though it’s liketrying to hold a hot coal in your hand? Can you really keep a secret?’
    ‘Er . . . yes.’
    ‘Well,’ said the wight, leaning back again. ‘So can we.’
    ‘But—’
    ‘Enjoy your meal.’
    ‘Will I?’
    ‘Yes. You certainly did.’ The wight went to turn away, and then turned back. ‘And you may keep the belt.’
    ‘0h. You know I’ve got the belt.’
    ‘I do now.’
    Snibril hesitated. ‘Hang on,’ he said, ‘I only said that because you—’
    ‘It’s best if you don’t try to understand,’ said Noral, kindly.
    Snibril ate for a while, but the questions kept bothering him.
    ‘Listen. Everything happens,’ said Noral. ‘Like a Thread of the Carpet. Nothing can be changed. Even the changes are . . . already part of the future. That’s all you need to know.’
    It was a strange meal. You could never be certain if the person you were talking to was listening to what you were going to say in ten minutes’ time. It only cheered up a bit when one of the wights gave Glurk an axe. It was his grandfather’s, although thehandle and the blade had been replaced a few times.
    Bane and Pismire were quiet when the travellers went back to their carts.
    ‘Did they tell you anything?’ asked Snibril
    ‘No,’ said Pismire. ‘They never do. But. . .’
    ‘It’s the way they acted,’ said Bane. ‘They can’t help it.’
    ‘They don’t like what it is they’re not telling us,’ said Pismire.

Chapter 5
    A week passed. The carts went on northward. Around them the Carpet changed. On either side of the narrow track the hairs towered up, and now they were deep red. The fluff bushes, too, even the dust briars, grew in every shade of red.
    To Snibril it seemed as though they were walking through a great fire that had been frozen suddenly. But it was cool and peaceful and at night, for the first time since they had left the village, they heard no snargs.
    And that, of course, made people want to stop. ‘At least for a few weeks,’ said Cadmic Hargolder, the spearmaker, when several villagers came to Glurk’s cart one evening. ‘They’ve probably forgotten about us, anyway, and perhaps we can go home.’
    ‘They don’t forget,’ said Bane. ‘Not them. Besides, we must go on. Head for Ware.’
    ‘You two can, if you like,’ said Cadmic. ‘As for me . . .’
    ‘As for us, we’ll keep together, Cadmic, at least while I’m chief of this tribe,’ said Glurk. ‘I won’t think we’re safe till I’m certain the nearest moul is a long way away. Makes sense to head for Ware. Things’ll be better there, you’ll see. If any of you think different, well ... ’
    There was something in that ‘well’. It was a very deep ‘well’. It was full of unspoken threats.
    But there were still angry mutterings. Then they came across the moul.
    It was while Snibril and Bane were walking ahead along the track, out of sight but within hearing of the carts. Snibril said little. He kept thinking about ‘General’.
    He’d seen Dumii officers occasionally. Not often. Tregon Marus wasn’t very important. They didn’t like it much, so far from home. Bane moved like a soldier. People called ‘General’ shouldn’t go around looking so shabby . . . And now they were going to Ware, apparently. No one had discussed it. Suddenly it just seemed to be happening.
    Things would be all right in Ware, though. It was the most famous place in the Carpet. Better than anywhere else. Safe. There were legions and legions of soldiers there . . .
    Bane was probably sensing his thoughts, but hewas, unusually for him, chatting aimlessly about nothing in particular.
    Neither saw the moul until they were almost on top if it. It sat astride its snarg in the middle of the track, hand halfway to sword hilt, staring straight at them with a look of terror.
    Bane gave a grunt and drew his sword, then almost fell over when Snibril’s arm shot out and grabbed his shoulder.
    ‘What are you doing, you