The Carpet People
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In the beginning, there was nothing but endless flatness. Then came the Carpet . . .
That’s the old story everyone knows and loves. But now the Carpet is home to many different tribes and peoples, and there’s a new story in the making. The story of Fray, sweeping a trail of destruction across the Carpet. The story of power-hungry mouls—and of two brothers who set out on an adventure to end all adventures when their village is flattened.
It’s a story that will come to a terrible end—if someone doesn't do something about it. If everyone doesn’t do something about it . . .
First published in 1971, this hilarious and wise novel marked the debut of the phenomenal Sir Terry Pratchett. Years later, Sir Terry revised the work, and this special collectable edition includes the updated text, his original color and black-and-white illustrations, and an exclusive story—a forerunner to The Carpet People created by the seventeen-year-old nascent writer who would become one of the world's most beloved storytellers.
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I’m confused.’ ‘They remember everything, I said. Everything. Everything that’s ever going to happen to them. Their minds . . . work differently. The past and the future are all the same to them. Please try to understand what I’m saying. They remember things that haven’t happened yet.’ Snibril’s jaw dropped. ‘Then we could ask them—’ he began. ‘No! We mustn’t! Why, thank you,’ Pismire continued, in a more normal voice, taking a plate from a wight, ‘that looks . . . um . . . delicious.’ They.
Lying down calmly and watching the black wall moving towards them. ‘Aren’t they close enough yet?’ ‘Not yet,’ said Bane. ‘Sergeant Careus . . . give the signal to be ready.’ ‘Yessir!’ Snibril could make out individual creatures now. Bane scratched his chin. ‘Not yet,’ he said, ‘not yet. The first shot is the most . . . important.’ There was a flicker on the mound of dust behind them. Snibril and Bane turned to see a white figure, staring intently at the onrushing horde. Then it vanished.
Galloped back to the city, with the others trying to keep up. Jornarileesh hadn’t moved a muscle. ‘That was very un-Dumii of you,’ said Pismire. ‘I’m surprised.’ ‘No. Gormaleesh was surprised. You were just amazed,’ said Bane. ‘He was drawing his sword. Didn’t you see?’ ‘They’re getting ready for another charge,’ said Glurk. ‘I’m surp— amazed they haven’t tried digging up from Underlay,’ said Pismire. ‘Some did,’ said Glurk, with satisfaction. ‘They came up under Mealy’s squad. They won’t.
There was a mounted shape in the darkness, and two pairs of eyes. One was a sullen red, one pair shimmered green. They stared unblinking over the flames at the villagers. Glurk snatched a spear from one of the gaping men and pushed his way forward. ‘Nothing but a snarg,’ he growled, and threw. The spear struck something, but the green eyes only grew brighter. There was a deep, menacing rumble from an unseen throat. ‘Be off! Go back to your lair!’ Pismire ran forward with a blazing stick in.
The poison has completely gone. He should stay in bed for at least two days, so I told Bertha six. Then he’ll fret and bully her into letting him up the day after tomorrow, and feel a lot better for having outwitted me. Positive thinking, that’s the style.’ He looked at Snibril. ‘What about you? You might not have escaped half so easily. Oh, I know it’s useless to say all this,’ he added, catching Bane’s grin, ‘but I wish that the people who sing about the deeds of heroes would think about the.