Cart and Cwidder by Diana Wynne Jones

Author:Diana Wynne Jones
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins

8

The man who had fetched Moril before came back. He took Moril downstairs to a great gloomy room with guards at the door. In the middle of this room were two rows of benches about three feet apart. People were sitting facing one another at intervals along these benches. Those on the farther bench were all prisoners. Moril could see they were, because they all had a dingy, sullen, dejected look and held their heads hunched forward. He had once seen a dancing bear with the same look. And the people on the nearer bench were plainly visitors, from not having that look, and being brisker and more nervous. There seemed to be guards everywhere, standing about in a bored way, and the nervous looks of the visitors were mostly directed at the guards. The room rang and whispered with shuffling feet and sad conversations.

The man told Moril to sit on the nearest bench. After a while two guards led Dagner through a door at the other end. Dagner had the same dingy, dejected look already. He looked unexpectedly small between the guards. Moril was sure he remembered him bigger.

They sat Dagner down on the bench opposite Moril. “You can have ten minutes,” they told Moril. Then they left them to talk. Moril swallowed and could not think what to say.

“Just a moment,” said Dagner. “Look at the room behind me, will you, and tell me if there’s anyone you think can hear what we say.”

Moril looked. The nearest guard was a good way off, talking to another. “No. They’re two cart lengths away at least.” He was about to turn round and see if there was anyone behind him.

“Don’t move, you fool!” said Dagner. “I can see it’s all right behind you.”

“Then that’s all right,” said Moril. “I saw the justice and I told them it’s all a mistake. They can’t really think you were passing information, can they? It’s just not true.”

“Yes, it is,” said Dagner. “I did.”

Moril stared at him.

“Father asked me to,” Dagner explained. “I had to give a message and some money to one of our men here. I didn’t manage very well,” he said sadly. “I wasn’t sure—anyway, I think the one I gave it to must have been the spy. And when I think how relieved I was once I’d got rid of them, I—well, it’s no use thinking of that, I suppose.”

“But, Dagner!” Moril said, quite horrified. “They’ll hang you for that!”

“You don’t think I don’t know that, do you?” Dagner said irritably. “Is there still no one near?”

“No,” said Moril. “Dagner, it isn’t true, is it? You’re joking.”

“I’m not joking,” said Dagner. “If you don’t believe me, take a look at that wine jar—unless they’ve searched the cart by now. But that’s not important. What is important is that you’ve got to get Kialan into the North. You and Brid just have to go on and get him to Hannart if you can. Can you do that, Moril?”

“I suppose so,” said Moril.

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