The Crown of Dalemark (52 page)

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Authors: Diana Wynne Jones

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3. People who live forever. There seems to be a gene of true immortality in the blood of Dalemark. Such people—for instance, Tanamoril or Manaliabrid—are born rarely, possibly one every three or four centuries, but do seem to exist. They nearly always possess unusual powers or abilities and often claim descent from the Elder Undying. It has been said that these immortals are the same as the Elder Undying, except that the Elder Undying unwisely allowed themselves to be bound into godhead by mortals wishing to worship them, but there is no proof of this theory.

“Undying at Midsummer,”
a very ancient tune of invocation to the One at the time of his greatest power.

Updale,
a small village in the center of the second Upland, north of Neathdale in South Dalemark.

Uplands,
the most northerly section of South Dalemark. The land here rises in three steep escarpments to meet the mountains of the North.

Virtue,
power, life force, or magic.

Wailers,
mourners, women who traditionally sit over a dead person making sounds of grief. The sounds have strict rules, which have to be learned. Wailers are usually elderly women or those without children who have had time to learn the rules.

Wanderer,
the one of the Undying who walks the green roads of North Dalemark, keeping them in good repair. He is the patron of all travelers and invoked even in the South at the start of a journey.

Warden of the Holy Islands,
the title bestowed on Hildrida Navissdaughter by Amil the Great.

Warm Springs,
mentioned in the spellcoats, halfway along the southern stretch of the great River and certainly of volcanic origin. Dalemark lies across two tectonic plates, and the land has always been prone to earthquakes and volcanic upheavals. Most historians believe that the shaking of the land by the One was in fact caused by the colliding of the two continental plates. There is evidence in Markind of a much earlier upheaval accompanied by massive volcanic activity.

Wars
in Dalemark were frequent, but three only need concern us:

1. The prehistoric invasion by Heathens from Haligland.

2. The Adon's wars when the Adon claimed the crown, one of the few civil conflicts in which earls from both North and South appeared on either side.

3. The Great Uprising, when Amil the Great took the crown, which ended in the establishment of modern Dalemark as one kingdom.

Watersmeet,
in the prehistoric Riverlands, the junction where the Red River flowed into the great River.

Waystone,
a flat, round stone with a hole in the middle, set up on its narrow edge to mark the start of a green road in North Dalemark. It was the custom to touch the waystone for luck at the start of a journey.

Waywold,
the earldom next door to Holand on the south coast of South Dalemark.

Weaver,
the lady of the Undying who weaves the fates and fortunes of mortals. She is said by some to be the same as the witch Cennoreth.

“The Weaver's Song,”
a well-known nursery song that may originally have been an invocation to the Weaver.

Weaving
was always to some extent a magical skill and not simply to do with making cloth. In early historical times each pattern woven was held to have significance. Note that Tanaqui takes it for granted that whatever she weaves will contain at least some words, usually at the hem or wrists of the garment, but quite often in bands throughout. See also
Words.

“Welcome aboard, Old Ammet, sir!,”
the traditional greeting from the crew that found Old Ammet floating in the sea, showing respect proper to one of the Undying.

Wend Orilson,
assistant curator at the Tannoreth Palace in Kernsburgh, who claims to be one of the Undying.

West Pool,
the second harbor of Holand in South Dalemark, shallower than the main harbor and protected by walls and gates, where the rich have always kept their pleasure boats. Harbor dues here are very high.

Wheatsheaf,
the flagship of the Holy Islands fleet.

Wheatsheaf crest,
the badge of Holand in South Dalemark, much feared in the time of Earl Hadd, when Harchad Haddsson gave each of his paid spies a small gold button stamped with this crest.

“Wider than the world, or small as in a nut,”
a quotation from a song by the Adon, sung by Kialan on the road north. The song is called “Truth” and, at one level, describes the working of the cwidder bequeathed to Moril Clennensson.

Wind's Road

1. An archaic term for the sea, used in spells and invocations.

2. The name of the yacht in which Mitt and his friends escaped north.

Wine,
made all over South Dalemark. The best vintages, red and white, are from Canderack, and the worst from Holand, and there are one or two superb reds from Andmark. The Holy Islands make a strange sparkling white and a brandy so good only earls can afford it. Apart from this, everywhere north of Markind tends to make cider instead and distill from it the spirits called gley. The main drink of the North is beer, except in Dropwater, where they make a sort of plum brandy.

Winthrough,
Lawschool slang for a scholarship student.

Wittess,
one of the Holy Islands, low and green.

Words,
a term used by Tanaqui and Kankredin for the clusters of woven signs in the spellcoats which only the learned or the initiated could read in the cloth. These signs not only formed words in the normal sense but were also potent ingredients of a mageweaver's spell.

Wren,
the headman of an unknown village in prehistoric Dalemark who led his people northward, fleeing from Kankredin. He was the first man to swear allegiance to King Hern.

Yeddersay,
one of the outer ring of the Holy Islands.

Ynen,
son of Navis Haddsson, who became Amil the Great's admiral in chief. Ynen not only experimented with steamships but built the conventional navy up to the extent that Dalemark quickly became an important sea power.

Ynynen,
the lesser of the Earth Shaker's two Great Names. Readers are strongly advised not to say this name beside the sea or in a boat.

Young One,
the red clay image of a smiling young man which the family of Closti the Clam kept in one of their fireside niches reserved for the Undying.

Zara,
the sister of Closti the Clam, who was to have married Zwitt, the headman of Shelling, if Closti had not jilted Zwitt's sister. Zara was then forced to marry Kestrel or remain a spinster. Zara never forgave Closti or his family for this, though she seems to have retained a strong fondness for Zwitt.

Zwitt,
the headman of Shelling beside the great River of prehistoric Dalemark. When Zwitt was young, he was betrothed to Closti the Clam's sister Zara, while Closti was betrothed to Zwitt's sister. Closti, however, fell in love with Anoreth and married her instead. Zwitt, in revenge, refused to marry Zara. This caused continuing bad blood between Zwitt and Closti's family.

Excerpt from Conrad's Fate

D
IANA
W
YNNE
J
ONES
's most beloved character, Chrestomanci, returns in a new tale:
Conrad's Fate
. Read on for a preview of his latest adventure!

When I was small, I always thought Stallery
Mansion was some kind of fairy-tale castle. I could see it from my bedroom window, high in the mountains above Stallchester, flashing with glass and gold when the sun struck it. When I got to the place at last, it wasn't exactly like a fairy tale.

Stallchester, where we had our shop, is quite high in the mountains, too. There are a lot of mountains here in Series Seven, and Stallchester is in the English Alps. Most people thought this was the reason why you could only receive television at one end of the town, but my uncle told me it was Stallery doing it.

“It's the protections they put round the place to stop anyone investigating them,” he said. “The magic blanks out the signal.”

My Uncle Alfred was a magician in his spare time, so he knew this sort of thing. Most of the time he made a living for us all by keeping the bookshop at the cathedral end of town. He was a skinny, worrity little man with a bald patch under his curls, and he was my mother's half brother. It always seemed a great burden to him, having to look after me and my mother and my sister, Anthea. He rushed about muttering, “And how do I find the
money
, Conrad, with the book trade so slow!”

The bookshop was in our name, too—it said
GRANT AND TESDINIC
in faded gold letters over the bow windows and the dark green door—but Uncle Alfred explained that it belonged to him now. He and my father had started the shop together. Then, just after I was born and a little before he died, my father had needed a lot of money suddenly, Uncle Alfred told me, and he sold his half of the bookshop to Uncle Alfred. Then my father died, and Uncle Alfred had to support us.

“And so he should do,” my mother said in her vague way. “We're the only family he's got.”

My sister, Anthea, said she wanted to know what my father had needed the money for, but she never could find out. Uncle Alfred said he didn't know. “And you never get any sense out of Mother,” Anthea said to me. “She just says things like ‘Life is always a lottery' and ‘Your father was usually hard up,' so all I can think is that it must have been gambling debts. The casino's only just up the road after all.”

I rather liked the idea of my father gambling half a bookshop away. I used to like taking risks myself. When I was eight, I borrowed some skis and went down all the steepest and iciest ski runs, and in the summer I went rock climbing. I felt I was really following in my father's footsteps. Unfortunately, someone saw me halfway up Stall Crag and told my uncle.

“Ah, no, Conrad,” he said, wagging a worried, wrinkled finger at me. “I can't have you taking these risks.”

“My dad did,” I said, “betting all that money.”

“He
lost
it,” said my uncle, “and that's a different matter. I never knew much about his affairs, but I have an idea—a very shrewd idea—that he was robbed by those crooked aristocrats up at Stallery.”

“What?” I said. “You mean Count Rudolf came with a gun and held him up?”

My uncle laughed and rubbed my head. “Nothing so dramatic, Con. They do things quietly and mannerly up at Stallery. They pull the possibilities like gentlemen.”

“How do you mean?” I said.

“I'll explain when you're old enough to understand the magic of high finance,” my uncle replied. “Meanwhile…” His face went all withered and serious. “Meanwhile, you can't afford to go risking your neck on Stall Crag, you really can't, Con, not with the bad karma you carry.”

“What's karma?” I asked.

“That's another thing I'll explain when you're older,” my uncle said. “Just don't let me catch you going rock climbing again, that's all.”

I sighed. Karma was obviously something very heavy, I thought, if it stopped you climbing rocks. I went to ask my sister, Anthea, about it. Anthea is nearly ten years older than me, and she was very learned even then. She was sitting over a line of open books on the kitchen table, with her long black hair trailing over the page she was writing notes on. “Don't bother me now, Con,” she said without looking up.

She's growing up just like Mum! I thought. “But I need to know what karma is.”

“Karma?” Anthea looked up. She has huge dark eyes. She opened them wide to stare at me, wonderingly. “Karma's sort of like Fate, except it's to do with what you did in a former life. Suppose that in a life you had before this one you did something bad, or
didn't
do something good, then Fate is supposed to catch up with you in
this
life, unless you put it right by being extra good, of course. Understand?”

“Yes,” I said, though I didn't really. “
Do
people live more than once then?”

“The magicians say you do,” Anthea answered. “I'm not sure I believe it myself. I mean, how can you
check
that you had a life before this one? Where did you hear about karma?”

Not wanting to tell her about Stall Crag, I said vaguely, “Oh, I read it somewhere. And what's pulling the possibilities? That's another thing I read.”

“It's something that would take
ages
to explain, and I haven't time,” Anthea said, bending over her notes again. “You don't seem to understand that I'm working for an exam that could change my entire life!”

“When are you going to get lunch then?” I asked.

“Isn't that just my life in a
nutshell
!” Anthea burst out. “I do all the work round here
and
help in the shop twice a week, and nobody even
considers
that I might want to do something different! Go away!”

You didn't mess with Anthea when she got this fierce. I went away and tried to ask Mum instead. I might have known that would be no good.

Mum has this little bare room with creaking floor-boards half a floor down from my bedroom, with nothing in it much except dust and stacks of paper. She sits there at a wobbly table, hammering away at her old typewriter, writing books and magazine articles about women's rights. Uncle Alfred had all sorts of smooth new computers down in the back room where Miss Silex works, and he was always on at Mum to change to one as well. But nothing will persuade Mum to change. She says her old machine is much more reliable. This is true. The shop computers went down at least once a week—this, Uncle Alfred said, was because of the activities up at Stallery—but the sound of Mum's typewriter is a constant hammering, through all four floors of the house.

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