The Carpet People

another.
    ‘They’re right here, in the palace,’ said Snibril.
    He looked around at the cooks. They were all very big men.
    ‘You were all sergeants, weren’t you?’ he said. ‘I can tell.’
    ‘Well, you see,’ said Mealy, ‘you learn about arranging things, when you’re a sergeant. Like, you make sure that when you retires you gets a cushy number. In the warm all day. Reg’lar meals. Old sergeants gets everywhere.’
    ‘Let’s go and—’ Snibril began.
    He stared into the darkness at the end of the sooty kitchen.
    ‘Who’s she?’ he said.
    ‘Who?’
    The sergeants turned.
    Snibril hesitated. ‘There was someone there,’ he mumbled. ‘In white. And this white animal by her. And she was saying—’
    He stopped.
    ‘No women in the kitchens,’ said Mealy. ‘The reason being, women aren’t any good at sergeanting.’
    Snibril shook himself. Must have imagined it, he told himself. It’s been a busy time . . .
    ‘Sergeant Careus, can you get back and bring the army?’ he said.
    ‘To attack Ware?’ said Careus.
    ‘To defend it,’ said Snibril.
    ‘Who will we be fighting?’
    ‘By the time you get back I hope we’ll have an enemy,’ said Snibril. ‘Have you cooks got any weapons?’
    Mealy grinned. He picked up a long meat cleaver from a big wooden table, swung it in his one arm, and brought it down on a chopping block. The chopping block split.
    ‘Who, us?’ he said.
    The guards on the palace gate were nervous anyway. They didn’t like their job. But orders are orders, even if you’re not sure where they came from. At least, they are to a Dumii. If we didn’t obey orders, where would we be?
    And they were even more nervous when four heavily-cloaked wights turned up at the gate, pushing a cart. One of the guards stepped forward.
    ‘Halt!’ he said.
    His companion nudged him. ‘They’re wights,’ he said, ‘I don’t think you can say Halt to wights. They must have a reason to go in.’
    ‘That’s right,’ said one of the wights.
    The first guard said, doubtfully, ‘But one of them’s eating a cucumber . . .’
    ‘I expect wights have to eat.’
    ‘And there’s only four of them. There ought to be seven,’ said the first guard.
    ‘We’ve been ill,’ said a wight.
    Another wight added, ‘Although, of course, when we say we we don’t mean—’
    A wight nudged him in the ribs. The first guard was not going to give up easily.
    ‘I don’t think you’re wights at all,’ he said. The wight who was eating cucumber turned its hood towards him.
    ‘Can prove it,’ it said. ‘Can tell you the future.’
    ‘Oh, yes?’
    The wight took a club off the cart.
    ‘Going to get hit,’ said Glurk.
    ‘Not too hard,’ said Bane, pushing his hood back. ‘He’s just in the way. He’s not an enemy.’
    Glurk hit the guard in as friendly a way as possible. The second guard started to draw his sword and opened his mouth to shout, but he felt something pointed touch his back.
    ‘Drop the sword,’ said Pismire.
    ‘And when we say drop, we mean let go of in a downward direction,’ said Owlglass, hopping up and down. ‘Isn’t this exciting!’
    Mealy knocked on a large, ornate door. Two cooks behind him were pushing a trolley. It was a large one; a white tablecloth hung down on all sides.
    After a while a courtier opened the door.
    ‘Dinner,’ said Mealy. ‘Bring it in?’
    ‘Oh. The cook. Very well,’ said the courtier. The trolley was wheeled through. There were a couple of guards sitting on the bench in the room beyond. They didn’t look very happy.
    There was another door beyond. The courtier opened it.
    There was yet another room beyond. It was empty. There was another closed door in the opposite wall.
    ‘Leave it in there,’ said the courtier. ‘Then be off.’
    ‘Right, right,’ said Mealy. The cooks pushed the trolley into the next room. Then they filed out obediently. The courtier closed the inner door.
    ‘Don’t you ever wonder what happens next?’ said Mealy.
    ‘It’s not my job to wonder about the Emperor’s business,’ sniffed the courtier, ‘and certainly not with a cook .’
    ‘In fact,’ said Mealy, taking off his tall cook’s hat, ‘I’m a sergeant. You lads there – attention!’
    The two guards stood to attention before they realized what they were doing. Several more cooks filed into the room. Each of them was carrying something sharp.
    ‘This is—’ the courtier began, and then realized that he was in a room with half a