Cart and Cwidder (Dalemark Quartet, Vol. 1) by Diana Wynne Jones
By Diana Wynne Jones
Whilst their father, a touring minstrel, is killed, 3 young ones desirous about uprising and intrigue inherit a lute-like cwidder with greater than musical powers.
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Extra info for Cart and Cwidder (Dalemark Quartet, Vol. 1)
But Brid had gone and announced him, so he was forced to take the centre of the cart, with his wet hands shaking on the cwidder. To make matters worse, he suddenly met Kialan's eye. Kialan was standing near the fountain, looking cool, attentive, and slightly critical. From where Moril stood, the hanged man on the gallows appeared to be dangling over Kialan's head. Moril took his eyes oﬀ both of them and began to play. He knew he was going to make wretched work of it. For a short while, he could attend to nothing but the queer ﬁngering and the odd, old-fashioned rhythms.
The cart rumbled through and crunched on the gravel of the lane outside, which was so narrow that Olob for a moment seemed likely to run into the shuttered house opposite. Moril stayed inside the stable-yard and carefully bolted the gate again. It looked, to his satisfaction, as if it had never been opened at all. He took a running jump at it and managed to hook his ﬁngers in the top, where the gate did not quite meet the wall above. From there, he swarmed up on to the thick top of the wall itself.
By the time he reached the cold archway into the jail, he was heartily wishing they had never left Markind. ' The man looked down at him, not unkindly. ' Moril nodded. ' asked the man. 'Eleven,' said Moril. ' said the man. ' Moril thought this was meant to be a joke, and smiled politely. 'Look, lad,' said the man. 'Take some good advice. Get in that cart of yours and drive oﬀ. ' Moril looked up at him in helpless irritation. ' said the man, urgently. Footsteps were coming through the dark passage behind him.