Cart and Cwidder (UK)

by Diana Wynne Jones

  Brid loved it. She had never been happier in her life. “I often remembered it, but I didn’t think it was real!” she was fond of saying.

  Moril enjoyed it too. He liked the liveliness, the carelessness and the way people rushed up to Keril and said what they pleased. He could not imagine anyone doing that in the South. Moril liked Keril. He liked Halida, Kialan’s mother. He enjoyed being with Kialan, and he loved the perpetual music. But he was too hot in the city and far too hot in the house. He kept having to go out on the hillsides. At night it was worse, and he slept in one of the gardens when he could. When Halida realised this, she gave him a room on the ground floor, opening on one of the gardens. Moril was grateful, but he hardly went into the room, and he only slept there if it was raining.

  Brid and Kialan consulted about it and went to see what Keril thought.

  “Yes,” said Keril. “I’m afraid he’ll be off again, one of these days. I hope not yet, though. I owe it to Clennen to see he has an education.”

  After that Brid watched Moril like a hawk. Moril showed no sign of wanting to leave. He seemed perfectly happy getting the education Keril thought he should have. He spent long hours playing his cwidder with Kialan, arranging songs and trying to make new ones. He rode with Kialan and Brid and walked on the hills with them. It was just that he was too hot indoors, and there was something at the back of his mind he did not want to think about yet.

  Now Flennpass was blocked, there was very little news from the South. It was nearly a month before some fishermen brought news that Tholian had indeed been killed by the fall of rocks, and his army, most of it having been unwilling, anyway, had packed up and gone home. Some time after that, a trader arrived to say that things had gone very quiet in the South. Yes, he said, when Keril questioned him, the lords and earls were very shaken. But the cause of the quiet was the ordinary people. They did nothing, but they seemed powerful. The earls were afraid of them. They dared not even try for peace with the North, in case that stirred up a revolution.

  A month later still a cart drove into Hannart. By the black mud on its axles, it had clearly come north through the Marshes. Apart from the mud, it was gaily painted in green and gold, and trim enough. It was driven by a very pretty girl. Beside her on the driving seat sat a dreamy-looking man with a thin face and a thin, greying beard, who smiled round at the gaiety of Hannart with a look of mild pleasure. The small gold lettering on the side of the cart said he was HESTEFAN THE SINGER.

  The people of Hannart realised that here would be both music and more news of the South. Numbers followed the cart as it jogged through the streets and drove into the front court of the Earl’s house.

  “Oh look! A singer!” Brid said to Kialan.

  “Do you know him?” Kialan asked Moril.

  “I’ve heard of him,” said Moril. He looked at Hestefan’s mild face and dreamy eyes, and it came to him that he would probably look like that when he was older.

  The cart stopped. The mottled grey horse blew, as much as to say, “Good – that’s enough for today, thank you.” The canvas cover came back a little, and a third traveller rather hesitantly stood up in the cart.

  “Dagner!” shrieked Brid, Moril and Kialan.

  They rushed up and hurled themselves on him. Dagner, grinning and blushing mauve with pleasure, climbed out of the cart and was thrown against it by their onrush.

  “What happened?” said Brid.

  “How did you get out of prison?” said Moril.

  “Ganner got me out,” Dagner said when he had got his breath back. “Ganner’s a good fellow. I got to like him a lot. He did follow us, you know, but he went back to Markind when he didn’t find us. Then – I don’t know what you said to that old snob of a Justice, Moril, but when they had me up in front of them again, they didn’t seem at all sure I was guilty and kept asking me about Ganner. So I told them he was marrying Mother, and they sent all the way to Markind to ask if it was true. It was marvellous. As soon as Ganner heard I was in prison, he came to Neathdale and raised a real stink. And while he was doing it, news came that Tholian was dead. Ganner upped and sacked the Justice, and said he was in charge now. It was marvellous! He let half the other prisoners go too. But seeing that I really had been passing information, Mother thought I’d better go North for a while and got Hestefan to take me.”

  “How is Mother?” asked Moril.

  “Terribly happy,” said Dagner. “Runs about all the time laughing. I don’t know why – she laughed when she heard Flennpass was blocked and said you and Brid must have made it to the North. She sent me with a letter for you both.”

  Brid and Moril snatched the letter and bent over it eagerly. It was a good long letter, all about Lenina’s doings in Markind. Lenina wrote of everything from the speckled cows to the roof where Moril had walked, and reminded Brid of this and Moril of that, and sent Ganner’s love – and to Moril, it was like a letter from a distant acquaintance. He felt it might just as well have been written to the baker’s boy round the corner. He was sad that he should feel like that, but he could not help it.

  “What a lovely letter!” said Brid. “I shall keep it.”

  While they were reading it, Hestefan’s pretty daughter had driven the cart away to the stables. Moril was annoyed, because he had wanted to talk to Hestefan. He dashed away to the stables, but the green cart was already standing empty in the coach house beside their battered and faded pink one. Moril went back to the courtyard, where Dagner, delighted to see them all again, was being uncharacteristically chatty.

  “Shall I tell you something really silly?” he said to Kialan as Moril came up. “You won’t believe this!”

  “Try me,” said Kialan.

  “Well,” said Dagner, “I’m the Earl of the South Dales. They won’t have me,” he said hastily, as Kialan burst out laughing. “Nothing will possess them to invest me. But it’s true. Tholian wasn’t married, and all his cousins were killed too, when Flennpass collapsed – you must tell me about that, by the way – and the only living heir left was me. And Moril after that. Honestly.”

  Moril stood silent in the crowded courtyard and left Brid and Kialan to do the exclaiming. Now he knew what it was that he had not wanted to think about. He had done that. He had worked a huge destruction and killed so many people that Dagner was now an earl. Everyone no doubt thought he had done right. He had saved the North, prevented a war, and avenged Clennen and Konian. But Moril knew he had not done right. He had done it all because Olob was killed. With the cwidder in his hands, he had behaved as if it was for Konian, for Clennen, for Dagner and for the North, but it had all been for Olob, really. He was ashamed. What he had done was to cheat the cwidder. That was the worst thing. If you stood up and told the truth in the wrong way, it was not true any longer, though it might be as powerful as ever. Moril saw that he was neither old enough nor wise enough to have charge of such a potent thing as that cwidder.

  That night, there was a feast in honour of Dagner, Hestefan, and Fenna, Hestefan’s daughter. Keril asked Hestefan to sing. Hestefan sang, old songs, new songs and many that Moril had never heard. When he sang, you forgot it was Hestefan singing and thought only of the song. Moril was impressed. Then Hestefan told a story. It was one Moril did not know. And while Hestefan was telling it, he found he forgot who was telling it and simply lived in the story. Moril realised he still had a lot to learn.

  After that they wanted Dagner to sing. Dagner was nervous, but surprisingly ready to perform.

  “Huh!” said Brid. “He just wants to impress Fenna, that’s what.”

  Whatever the reason, Dagner took his own cwidder, fetched for him by Kialan, tuned it, and sang the song Moril had tried to finish for him. He did it nothing like the way Moril had made it go. The new parts of the tune were quite different from Moril’s, and he had changed the beginning. It now went:

  “Follow me, follow me.

  The blackbird sings to follow me.

  No one will know where we go –

  A
ll that matters is we go.”

  Kialan looked at Moril and made a face to show that he liked Moril’s version better. Moril smiled. Everyone had to do things their own way. While Dagner went on to sing his Colour song, Moril slipped quietly away, fetched the old cwidder, slung it on his shoulders, and went to where Hestefan was refreshing himself with beer beside an open window. Hestefan looked as if he was too hot, just like Moril.

  “Please,” Moril said to him, “will you take me with you when you go?”

  “Well,” Hestefan said dubiously, “I was thinking of slipping off now, while nobody’s noticing.”

  “I know you were,” said Moril. “Take me too. Please.”

  Hestefan looked at him, a vague, dreamy look, which Moril was positive saw twice as much as most people’s. “You’re Clennen’s other son, aren’t you?” he said. “What’s your name?”

  “Tanamoril,” said Moril. “I’m called Osfameron too,” he added, as an inducement.

  Hestefan smiled. “Very well then,” he said. “Come along.”

  A Guide to Dalemark

  Aberath, the northernmost earldom of North Dalemark; also the town on the north coast, situated on the Rath estuary at the mouth of the river Ath.

  Aden, the small river running north to the sea at Adenmouth, thought by some to be all that remains of the great River of the spellcoats.

  Adenmouth, a small town and lordship in the extreme northwest of North Dalemark, and part of the earldom of Aberath.

  Adon, a name that seems to mean “High Lord” and has several applications:

  1. One of the secret names of the One.

  2. The name or title of the heroic King of Dalemark about whom there are many songs and legends. The Adon was an Earl of Hannart who married Manaliabrid of the Undying as his second wife and went into exile with her and the Singer Osfameron, during which time he was murdered by his jealous half-brother Lagan and brought back to life by Osfameron. He then became King, but on his death his two children disappeared, leaving Dalemark without a King and riven by civil war.

  3. The title of the eldest son and heir of the Earl of Hannart.

  The Adon’s gifts, the legendary gifts Manaliabrid brought to the Adon as her dowry. These are:

  1. A ring said only to fit the finger of one with royal blood.

  2. A cup which was believed to acknowledge the true King and also to shine in the hands of anyone telling the truth.

  3. A sword which, it was said, only the true King could draw from its scabbard.

  The Adon’s Hall, one of the old-style songs composed by the singer-mage Osfameron, in which Osfameron seems to be thinking not only of the Adon in exile in a ruinous hall but of his own cwidder and of the Sayings of King Hern.

  Al, the most common short form of Alhammitt, the commonest name in South Dalemark. The name of a castaway picked up by the yacht Wind’s Road.

  Alda, the wife of Siriol; a confirmed alcoholic.

  Alhammitt

  1. The true name of the Earth Shaker.

  2. The most common man’s name in South Dalemark.

  3. Mitt’s actual name.

  Alk, a lawman from the North Dales who took office under the Countess of Aberath and shortly married her. His status then became that of Consort of Aberath, with the courtesy title (which was seldom used) of Lord. Alk devoted his time to inventing steam engines and eventually, almost single-handedly, brought about the industrial revolution of Dalemark.

  Alksen, Major, the head of security at the Tannoreth Palace.

  Alk’s Irons, the name given by the people of Aberath to the steam machines invented by Alk. The most notable of these were a plough, a hoist, a press, a pump and a locomotive.

  Alla, the elder daughter of Alk and the Countess of Aberath.

  Allegiances, the personal ties of primitive Haligland. A man or woman would be born into one clan, sent as foster child to a second, swear friendship to a third and marry into a fourth. This formed a network of friendship and obligation which you were bound to tell to a stranger when you told your name. Allegiances defined you as a person. If you did not tell, or had no allegiances, you were either a criminal or a social outcast.

  Almet, the son of the Adon and Manaliabrid, who declined to be King after his father.

  Amil, one of the secret names of the One, which appears to mean either “Brother” or “River”. It later became the name of the line of kings that began with Amil the Great.

  Ammet, a straw image thrown into the sea every year at the Sea Festival in Holand in South Dalemark, which was said to bring luck to the city. Small images were also made and sold for luck. Even greater luck was supposed to come to any boat that found Ammet floating beyond the harbour and brought him aboard. The name is a corruption of Alhammitt, one of the names of the Earth Shaker. See also Poor Old Ammet.

  Andmark, the earldom in the centre of South Dalemark which was probably the wealthiest in Dalemark. Henda was Earl of Andmark until he was killed in the Great Uprising.

  Anoreth of the Undying became the wife of Closti the Clam. The name means “unbound”.

  Ansdale, a remote valley east of Gardale. The birthplace of Biffa, whose family kept the mill there.

  Arin, a senior lord of the (Heathen) invaders from Haligland and chief warrior-minister of Kars Adon.

  Armour was markedly different in the two halves of Dalemark.

  Southern soldiers wore helmets and breastplates with exaggerated curves designed to deflect bullets, over tough leather, with knee-length boots and big gauntlets. Many carried guns as well as swords, and foot soldiers carried pikes.

  Northern soldiers still used chain mail under sleeved jerkins of leather or tough cloth. The mail was long enough to protect the wearer to the wrists and knees, and the helmets were round, coming low enough in the back to protect the neck. Gloves were leather with mail or studs on the backs. Weapons were usually crossbows, swords and daggers. Guns were few and could only be spared for picked hearthmen.

  Arms inspectors were employed by all the earls of South Dalemark to keep strict watch on gunsmiths, armourers and weapons makers, who were not allowed to work without the inspectors’ seal on all their equipment. The earls rightly feared that the craftsmen might otherwise sell weapons to the common people or make weapons for the earls that were deliberately flawed. Despite the inspectors, many armourers seem to have done both these things.

  Arris, a rough spirituous liquor brewed throughout South Dalemark from discarded grapes and sprouting corn. All that can be said in its favour is that it was much cheaper than wine.

  Ath, the river that runs north into the sea at Aberath. It is thought to be one of the remnants of the great River of prehistory.

  Autumn Festival, the usual name in the South of Dalemark for Harvest, the feast that celebrated the gathering of crops.

  Autumn floods in the prehistoric Riverlands were as regular as spring floods but never so large. They were due to the rains that fell in the autumn storms.

  Autumn storms were a regular feature in Dalemark. In historic times they reached as far north as Gardale and could be very severe. The worst lasted for days, with the gale swinging from northwest to southwest. With a shorter storm the winds tended to gust even stronger but not veer so much. If the gale was southerly, the storms came repeatedly for several days.

  Bad luck gave rise to many superstitions all over Dalemark. Those which require explanation are:

  1. Giving. It was considered disastrously unlucky to give, or promise to give something and then not give it. This is why Ganner was forced to give Lenina to Clennen and also why he seems to have been certain she would one day come back; he had not incurred bad luck by refusing to give her away.

  2. Festivals, feasts and ceremonies. Enormous bad luck was incurred if anything happened to interrupt these. Note that the Heathens interrupted the One’s fire ceremony; that both Mitt and Al interrupted the Sea Festival; and that Fenna interrupted the Midsummer Feast by fainting.

  3. A death brough
t great bad luck and could only be countered by a marriage on the same day. Lenina and Ganner take advantage of this belief.

  4. Speaking a falsehood to the Undying brings more bad luck than any of the foregoing.

  5. An unlucky person can bring bad luck to others. Gull was considered to be doing this, and Kialan believed he was such a person.

  6. A person or group can carry their own cloud of bad luck around with them and nothing will go right for them until the cloud passes away.

  Barangarolob, the full name of the horse that pulled Clennen the Singer’s cart. Clennen, who loved long names, named him after the Adon’s horse Barangalob, with the inserted superlative particle ro meaning “youngest” or “much younger”.

  Barlay, Lawschool slang. “No barlay” means “no quarter given”.

  Beat the water, as part of the Holand Sea Festival in South Dalemark. People pretended to beat the sea with garlands of fruit and flowers. The ancient aim seems to have been to subdue the sea for the following year.

  Beer was drunk throughout the North of Dalemark instead of water, wine, or coffee until near the end of Amil the Great’s reign. One of Navis Haddsson’s many profitable enterprises was to set up a large brewery in the Shield of Oreth, but the best beer came from Hannart and still does. The lager brewed in Kinghaven is to be avoided at all costs.

  Bence, captain in chief of the fleet of the Holy Islands and commander of the Wheatsheaf. Bence was not a Holy Islander. He was born in Wayness in the earldom of Waywold.

  Besting, Lawschool slang for best friend.

  Biffa, pupil at the Gardale Lawschool, a native of Ansdale and best friend of Hildrida Navissdaughter. The name is a shortened pet-name form of Enblith.

  Big Shool, one of the larger of the Holy Islands.

  Black Mountains, the highest range of mountains in prehistoric Dalemark. It is possible, though not certain, that they were thrown higher in the mountain-folding at the start of the reign of King Hern, to become the Black Mountains of historic Dalemark, in which case the name may refer to the large deposits of coal to be found there.