The Tears of Sisme

by Peter Hutchinson

  "I hope we're in the right place." Caldar dropped his voice to a whisper. "This boatman looks more than a bit simple."

  "Yes," Berin whispered back. "Look at his tunic; it’s in rags. He’s probably Ainu.”

  The Ainu had been inhabiting the Norleng for a long time before the Espars arrived and they had not integrated with the newcomers in the ensuing thousand years. They were now regarded as backward, poor and slightly dangerous, and most of them lived in the high country away from Espar settlements.

  "Seems like Taccen was right. About Hasban, I mean, he must be paying starvation wages. Anyway, even if Hasban mans the whole place with derelicts, the tutor's someone the Tinker knows, so at least he won’t be Hasban’s choice."

  They went on speculating about Hasban and their future teacher in low voices, while the boat progressed slowly to a landing stage at the head of the inlet. After securing the craft, their guide led them a short way up a wide path and pointed to a lighted window which had just come into view through the trees. Then he turned and vanished into the gathering darkness, before they could thank him or ask any questions. The boys shrugged and went on towards the light.

  Caldar saw straight away that this was different from Taccen's farm. The house would have looked more at home in the wealthier districts of Misaloren, with plastered walls and ornate arched windows. A sweeping lawn led up to a pillared porch and there were no farm buildings in sight.

  They approached the impressive front door and knocked. The house remained silent and the door closed. After knocking two or three times, they discovered a rope hanging to one side of the door and Berin gave it a tentative pull. The pleasant chime of bells sounded inside the house and moments later the door opened to a brightly lit hallway, floored with rich carpets. A heavyset man with perfectly groomed grey hair and a fleshy face stepped confidently forward and greeted them with a practised smile.

  "Well, well, here you are at last then. You must be Caldar. And this is? Berin, that's right. I'm Hasban. Come in, come in. Is that all the luggage you have? You lads know how to travel light, don't you. Don't mind sleeping in the same room, do you? We entertain a lot of guests time to time, and the house isn't as big as it looks."

  While speaking, he led them down the long hallway and into a large room, full of elaborately carved furniture. A thin woman with a sleeveless red dress and fair hair piled on top of her head rose from a chair and greeted them pleasantly, then immediately turned to her husband and complained that the cook had not ordered any strawberries and what was she supposed to do about her dinner party the next day.

  The boys stood awkwardly at one side while a nasty little scene ensued, not quite believing that this woman really expected to be eating strawberries in Tenmonth. It transpired that they had to be brought on one of the boats sailing up from Suntoren, where they could still be bought at this time of the year: but they were very expensive out of season and Hasban told his furious wife that he had cancelled her order as being a silly luxury. She had begun to screech at him, when he walked ponderously to the hall and called "Zimia." A small figure wearing an apron appeared almost at once, and at Hasban's command, led the boys upstairs to their bedroom.

  Like the man who had brought them ashore, the maid vanished without a word, leaving them in a large elegant room with two beds. Both of them, Berin in particular, were feeling rather uncomfortable in this house, but they were fast becoming too weary to care. It was the same at supper, served on a highly polished oval table in another even grander room. Their hostess drew their attention to the engraved silver cutlery from Malefor and to the Sostenaar glassware and to the special delicacies being served, while her husband brooded in silence at the other end of the table. Sadly the aesthetic delights of the meal were lost on the boys, who also ignored the underlying tensions at the table: they were tired and hungry, and they worked hard at it until they were simply tired. Their only aim after that was to get to bed which they managed soon enough. 'A strange place.' Caldar thought, as he slipped off to sleep, 'but not the strangest I've seen this year.'

  They found out next morning where the farm buildings were when Hasban took them on a guided tour. Only a few hundred yards from the house, hidden behind a small wood, was one of the sorriest looking farmyards the boys had ever seen. Even the ducks on the dirty duckpond looked scruffy and the cows had dull eyes and sharp backbones.

  "How does he make enough money for that grand house?" Caldar whispered to his friend.

  "Fishing?” Berin shrugged. “I think there's a lot of sheep in Norleng too, though any sheep of his would probably only have three legs."

  As they walked around in soft sunshine, it became clear that Hasban's estate was extensive. Both sides of the long inlet were his, and to the north forest and pasture rolled away into the distance along the lakeside, until the view was cut off by a high headland which marked the limit of his land.

  They were circling back towards the house through some open woodland near the inlet, when they came across a cottage a few yards from the water's edge. The man who had rowed them ashore was seated outside on a stool, mending a fishing net. Caldar just had time to note with surprise the flashing deftness of his fingers, before he stopped and rose at their approach. They could see in the daylight that he was somewhere in his forties with sandy hair and a thin frame. The same rather vacant look was on his face as he greeted them, and Caldar felt the stirrings of pity at the sight of the man's threadbare clothes and the rundown cottage.

  "Good morning, Hasban."

  "Morning, Idressin. More nets to mend? It never ends, does it? These are the two young gentlemen you'll be looking after. Caldar. Berin. This is Idressin, your tutor. Now that your pupils have arrived, I expect you'll be giving less time to the farm jobs, 'though you can rest assured there will always be plenty of them waiting." He gave a hearty laugh to cover the serious message behind his words.

  The boys stared at their tutor with disbelief. Had the Tinker and Taccen and Pedran really sent them all this way to be taught by a simpleton who scratched a living doing odd jobs on a farm? Caldar's disappointment turned swiftly into a resolve to disappear at every opportunity and to make a holiday out of this whole peculiar affair. He sighed: he would much rather be at home, sitting by the big fire in Taccen's kitchen of an evening while Lazalis baked the next day's bread, milking in the warm cowsheds in the early morning, . . . Hasban spoke again, and interrupted this unrealistic reverie.

  "I'll leave you lads here, so you can all have a talk about things. Then I'll see you up at the house for lunch in a couple of hours or so." With that, he stumped off heavily in his shiny knee-length boots.

  Without a word Idressin sat down on his stool and resumed his task. The boys looked at each other uncertainly and remained standing where they were. Their gaze wandered round the quiet inlet and its bordering rocks and trees, but kept returning to the figure sitting in front of them. His fingers were so quick that they couldn't make out how the knots were being formed, and they were both fascinated trying to puzzle it out.

  They were still trying when the man stopped, put the net aside, and said, "There, that's finished. Thank you for waiting. Now let us talk, as Hasban suggested. I think we all have questions, so let's start with yours, that is if you think it worthwhile spending time with a simple-minded derelict."

  His brisk tone and alert smiling eyes made the boys swiftly revise some of their recent judgements, while his last words exposed with painful accuracy their feelings of superiority.

  "Are you a friend of the Tinker's?" Berin asked, wanting to establish some safe ground in this whole alien situation.

  "Yes indeed, or I wouldn't be here. We've known each other for many years."

  "What are you going to teach us?" Berin's second question followed at once.

  "What do you want to know?"

  This odd approach disconcerted the boys, who answered almost at random.

  "Mathematics", was Berin's reply, followed by Caldar's "How to build a boat”.<
br />
  Idressin studied them in silence for a long moment. "Come", he said, getting up and leading them along the lake shore to a small grassy hollow at the water's edge. He sat down on a rock and waved them to choose their own.

  "Look." It was a command. The tutor waved an arm all around, then sat relaxed on his rock, his eyes on a flower in the grass in front of him, and waited.

  The boys did indeed look, at the water, the grass, the flowers, the forests, the hills. It was a beautiful spot and they found much to interest them; but their attention was constantly distracted by the silent form of Idressin, until it seemed that they were unwillingly conscious of him at every moment and minute by minute their tension grew. It took some time before the tutor's stillness penetrated this agitation and touched them. It was extraordinary. The man was as utterly motionless as the rock he sat on, almost a piece of it. Slowly a palpable calm seemed to spread out from the still form to replace their tension and to open eyes they had not realised were blind.

  Light and life crowded in upon Caldar. The smallest ripple on the water, the tang of the shore, the plop of a bird diving for fish, lichen starred on a coarse-grained stone: everything was a wonder that concealed a greater wonder. It was all coming clear, swimming up towards him from the depths of his own feelings, slowly, gently......

  "Good. It's a beginning." The tutor broke the long silence. He smiled at the boys. "Now tell me again, what do you want to know?"

  "I want to know," Berin began, "why everything in the world happens the way it does." He stopped, looking embarrassed, then added with a rush, “And how it happens too.” Idressin nodded without comment and looked enquiringly at Caldar.

  There was a pause, as Caldar struggled to bring to the surface the feelings which had arisen in him just moments before. "I want...." He got that far and stuck. It was impossible. It would not take shape in words. Then to his utter surprise he heard his own voice say, "I want to know who I am."

  That had ended their morning session. Their tutor had simply waved them away saying "Come back after you’ve eaten." They had extracted some information about him over lunch, served in the big dining room to just three of them, as Hasban's wife was apparently preparing for her dinner party. Their host seemed more interested in the boys and their lives in the Rimber valley, but he did answer briefly their queries about Idressin.

  "Don't know where he comes from. Useful fellow though. He turned up shortly after the second letter from Taccen. If he hadn't been named in it, I don't know that I'd have let him on the farm. Looked like a beggar. Still does. But he got right down to work. Fixed a broken axle on one of the farm carts first day he was here. Mended the boats. Even showed us how to straighten up a bulging wall in the big barn. Don't need lots of expensive tradesmen while he's around."

  He stopped and glanced at the boys, as if he had said something he wished he hadn't. "I'm not sure what he's supposed to be teaching you. Taccen wasn't too clear whether he wanted you to learn a particular trade or not, and you don't seem much wiser yourselves. However I'm sure it'll all come out right in the end. Now, about Taccen's farm again, how many head of cattle did you say he was running?"

  They learned nothing more, and it was with considerable curiosity that they returned to the cottage that afternoon. Idressin was sitting on his stool, apparently waiting for them. He motioned to them to sit on the ground in front of him and asked at once, "Are you both still of the same mind?" They knew he was referring to their answers of the morning, and each of them said "yes" in turn.

  "Good. These are weighty matters indeed, and the sooner we begin the better." The boys straightened up expectantly. "Come inside."

  They followed him into the dark cottage. When their eyes adjusted to the gloom, they saw that it was constructed much like the hut at Far End. The filthy central room in which they stood contained a stove and a crude table and chairs, with a door at each end into the small side rooms. Two new brooms of bound twigs stood against one wall. Idressin handed one to each of the boys with the words, "First of all, sweep. This room and the small one at that end." With that, he went outside.

  They began with gusto and soon thick clouds of dust filled the cottage. Gradually they slowed down and learned how to control the stiff brooms, until the stone floors slowly grew cleaner. Idressin reappeared when they had nearly finished, and expressed surprise that they had not swept down the walls and the rafters first, because it would dirty the floors again when they did.

  The boys started again with distinctly less enthusiasm; this time the job took much longer and they ended up a great deal dirtier. As the evening darkened outside, it became pitch black in the cottage, and the boys stopped when they could no longer see. The tutor was nowhere to be found, so they wearily made their way to the house. It was ablaze with lights, enough for them to see a couple of mud-splashed carriages near the front door and several saddled horses tethered beside the stables.

  Their pull at the bell-rope was answered by Hasban's wife in a sweeping gown. She started back at the sight of the filthy pair on her doorstep and hurriedly directed them upstairs, calling after them that Zimia would bring them some supper in their room. Her obvious anxiety at their grimy presence in her hall curiously lightened their mood. Supper was spent speculating on how Idressin might start teaching them the next day. They were slightly embarrassed now at their own fanciful requests, but intrigued also to discover how their new tutor would deal with them.

  To their dismay, the tutor led them straight into the cottage again the next morning, presented each of them with a bucket and a scrubbing brush, and with the laconic instruction "What you swept yesterday, today scrub," left them alone. This time it took them all day. Idressin appeared in the afternoon, pointed out bits they had missed - which they considered clean enough anyway -and left them fuming silently, but determined to see it through. They kept at it until they were sure that no one could possibly find any dirty spots anywhere, and finished even more tired and grimy than the day before.

  Supper in the big dining room was a miserable affair. There did not seem to be enough common ground between hosts and guests to make any exchange sustainable, the only lively interludes coming from vicious little arguments between husband and wife. They went to bed drained emotionally as well as physically, but by the next morning Caldar felt sufficiently restored to rebel.

  This time they were given a paint brush each, a pot of white paint, and a short ladder. Idressin was just going out, when Caldar ran after him.

  "Idressin. Why are we doing all this cleaning? You promised you would teach us what we wanted to know."

  "Did I?" The boys reflected that in fact he had promised no such thing. "Well, let's talk about it tomorrow. Today I'm too busy." With that he walked off, before they could say another word.

  In the event it proved to be a more satisfying day. It annoyed them that the tutor had come back each day so far and found fault with their work: it wasn't going to happen this time and they painted well and carefully into every corner, however hidden. To their chagrin, Idressin barely put his head in the door at midday, nodded to them, and departed without even looking round.

  By evening the cottage was actually quite bright and clean inside. They themselves were not clean, a liberal amount of white paint having inevitably coated them as well. Hasban and his wife had gone out to dinner, so to their relief the boys were able to eat alone. They felt more cheerful now. They had completely cleaned up the cottage. Tomorrow they would start on some proper study.

  Their hopes were high when Idressin led them off into the woods. Definitely a more promising start. They did not go far. A hundred paces into the forest lay a fallen tree and propped up against it were a two-handled saw and a large axe. Idressin was too busy to talk again today and the next day and the next week. The boys spent the first two days working sullenly and slowly by way of protest. They half believed that Hasban and the tutor had conspired together to get two free labourers on the farm.

  When their protests, si
lent and spoken, were completely ignored, they gradually came to accept the task and things went better. It was still hard work, particularly for Caldar, cutting and splitting the logs to the exact size and length which Idressin demanded, then carrying them to stack neatly under a lean-to by the cottage wall; but with their more relaxed attitude, rhythm returned and in the second week they even began to enjoy themselves.

  By the third week they were on their third tree and the wood pile by the cottage was impressive. They did not see much of Idressin, who always seemed busy elsewhere, even staying away for two days at a time. After dinner one evening Hasban asked them about the tutor with apparent casualness.

  "How are you getting on with Idressin then, lads? Feel it was worthwhile coming all this way, eh?"

  The boys were about to give a truthful answer to these questions, when for some unaccountable reason they both held back. Hasban seemed not to notice and launched himself into what sounded like a prepared speech.

  "You've been spending a lot of time with him. Quite right too. Studying's what you're here for. Course he's not getting much done on the farm now. Never see him these days. I wonder if it would save time all round if you were to move in with him. You know, into the cottage. Now I come to think of it, it would suit us really well. My son's coming back from Suntoren next week and I think he'll be bringing some friends home with him, so we could be pretty full up in the house here. What do you think then? It's a lovely little place down there. And I could let you have some paint to brighten it all up inside. Get some wood in for a good fire and you'd soon be really snug. If you were down there, maybe Idressin could do some of his study with you in the evenings instead. How about it then? What do you say?"

  Hasban did not observe the boys exchanging a rueful smile at his proposal. In fact he did not even wait for a reply. Taking silence for agreement, he went straight on, "Alright then. I'll get Zimia to look you out some mattresses and some bedding, and Forran my foreman can sort out with Idressin about some paint and some wood. He'll be only too pleased, if it means he'll be getting Idressin's help around the place again. Splendid, splendid. Tomorrow then? Alright lads, sleep well."