Then he looked round at them all in turn and began: "Something needs to be done, something which can only be done by the people in this room. Fate appears to have chosen you already, and yet each of you must undertake this willingly. It will certainly be difficult, and probably dangerous. It's also important, more important than you could ever imagine."
"More important than passing my second year examinations?" Tariska asked tartly.
The Tinker laughed. "One thing at a time, eh? Your father taught you well. Yes, this is more important than all the exams you'll ever take, Tariska."
"What would happen, Tinker, if we refused?" This time it was Berin who put the question. "It sounds very final and frightening to say that fate has chosen us to do something we know nothing about. Do we have a choice?"
"There's always a choice, Berin." He paused, clearly considering his next words. "Normally we would let things take their course, knowing that each of you would come to this point yourselves when you were ready. But this isn't a normal time. Events are rapidly taking shape in the world, which force the choices upon us. So if you refuse? Then I can’t say if mankind will ever be presented with this opportunity again."
There was a heavy silence. It was too much too fast and there was nothing they could find to say.
Then the Tinker resumed. "You all know the legend of the Talismans of Power?" Everyone nodded. "In one form or another it’s a story you’ll hear in every country in the world, and however much the legend is changed, the core of it is always the same. When the gods of ancient times withdrew from the world, they gave to the first man and the first woman the responsibility for the earth and everything in it. To aid them, the gods created three sources of great magical power. Shazima they were called in the early days. Shazima's an old Darrabil word meaning a parting gift or talisman, so Talismans they became.
When it was time for the first humans to die, they gave one Talisman to each of their children, who were to be the founders of the three tribes, the Darrabil, the Herremi and the Feld Kalin, and they instructed these new guardians in the responsibilities the gods had laid upon them. So it remained for generation after generation, the Talismans and the instruction being passed on from Guardian to Guardian.
At last a time came when all men, even the Guardians, forgot the commands of the gods. Responsibility for the earth changed into dominion over it and they pursued only their own ease and pleasure. They sought to use the Talismans for their own purposes also, but the Talismans would not respond. Instead they slowly faded away and became invisible to the eyes of men and so it remains to this day."
The legend had been lent new force and mystery by the deep compelling tone which the Tinker had adopted. His next words blew away the solemn atmosphere like smoke..
"A pretty little legend, isn't it? Embroider it with all the extra bits and a good storyteller can spin it out for hours. Pleasant entertainment with a dash of symbolism to make intellectuals feel superior and romantic enough to spawn a dozen deluded ‘talisman’ discoverers and phoney guardians every year. But real significance for people today, normal people like us? None at all. Even if we happen to hear the story, a few moments afterwards it’s faded completely from our minds, wiped away by the first chance remark. We are among the generations who have forgotten."
The Tinker stopped, and there was a pause, as the others waited, uncertain if he was about to continue.
"D'you mean we should take the story seriously?" Berin eventually broke the silence. The Tinker smiled at him encouragingly. "But I don't have the least idea what it means."
"It means pretty much what it says," came the reply.
"Are you telling us the Talismans were real … are real?" This was Rasscu's question, followed immediately by Caldar's "..and the gods too?" Then Berin supplied the finishing touch, saying, "Even if everything in the legend really did happen the way it says, the Talismans disappeared ages ago and the whole thing’s completely finished. What's an old dead legend got to do with us now? It's the same as old heroes, like Limmer One-Hand or Filloc-o-the-Woods. Even if they ever really existed, they're just names in children’s stories now."
Tariska said nothing, but watched the interchange with some interest. Idressin sat back relaxed, looking half asleep.
"Let's assume," the Tinker began again. "that the legend is true, or most of it. It doesn't say that the Talismans have been destroyed. They're invisible, or in some versions, buried, but they still exist. They are, if you like, waiting."
"I know it's all impossible anyway," Caldar said. "But supposing you could find one of them, why would you want to? The Talisman wouldn't work for you unless you were its Guardian, and if you were, you'd have to accept all the responsibilities that went with it and who’d want to be responsible for the whole earth? It would be terrifying." He looked at the old man. "Come on, Tinker. Don't keep us in suspense. There's got to be something sensible behind all this stuff about gods and Talismans."
"Sensible? No. Terrifying? Yes indeed. Because the whole point is, Caldar, that mankind still has a special responsibility towards the earth, just as it said in the legend, however reluctant you may be to believe it. Surely you know by now that when something’s right in front of you, shutting your eyes and turning your back doesn't make it go away. That's the attitude of a self-indulgent child, which is truly what man has become. I, you, Tariska, all of us, we share a duty we can't ignore or lay aside: it lies at the very core of what makes us human.
I agree it’s not easy to grasp all at one go, but you can see very simply what the alternative is, what happens when man follows only his own desires. He not only robs the earth to satisfy himself, he even ends up destroying his own kind. You Espars live here at the Lake in the calm eye of the storm and hardly notice what's happening all around you. Oppression, injustice, and slavery stalk the world and they’ll soon be intensified as the madness of war breaks out again.
And this isn’t something new. To everyone nowadays the Great Desert’s merely a vast uninhabitable barrier between the kingdoms. It wasn't always so. Fine cities and rich pastures stretched a thousand leagues from the Lake to the southern sea, and it was the hand of man that blighted that fair country. In war after terrible war the fruitful lands that lay at the heart of the world were utterly destroyed. Only the sand blows where once the five lovely cities of the Pirramarna flourished."
Rasscu looked sharply at the speaker, and the Tinker nodded. "Yes, Rasscu. That was the ancient home of the Tesseri, named in the Song of Rekkin. For your people now it's a tale of times so distant they think of it as a myth, a song of longing written by a bard who had a vision of heaven. It's not, it's the account of a time before that beautiful country was turned into a charred wasteland full of skulls, which lie in their tens of thousands buried deep under the desert."
He turned back to Caldar. "There’s a new war brewing already which looks set to engulf most of mankind. What will be left of the peaceful lives of you Espars when it crosses your borders?"
No one spoke as they struggled to absorb the meaning of all that they had just heard.
In the end it was Berin who began. "If that's the way it's been for ages and ages, people chasing after what they want and wars and slavery and so on, and if everyone acts like that, what are we supposed to do about it? I mean the six of us in this room, what can we do? I don't really understand how we could take on this responsibility you talk about, but even if we agreed with everything you've said, I don't see how we can make any difference. Whatever we do, things are going to go on the same way as before all over the world."
"That's very true, Berin." The Tinker replied. "And it's a good question, what can we do? We are only six and the powers ranged against us are immense; what can we do?" He let the question hang in the air as he looked around the room. "The answer is, of course, nothing. And yet we must. There's no one else."
"You speak in riddles," said Rasscu in the soft accents of the Tesseri. "This little group of people cannot stand the world on
its head, and yet you say we must. We could be aided by Talismans of magical power, but they disappeared long ago. It's our destiny to do this thing, but we can refuse if we're unwilling." Rasscu shook his head. "In matters this deep I trust you more than any man alive, Tinker. You brought us here for a serious purpose, and you know I'll join you on any undertaking, however difficult, once I can see it clear. But at this moment I'm more bewildered than unwilling."
"And I’m bewildered and unwilling." Tariska spoke in a clear incisive voice, with more than a touch of anger. She rose to her feet. "I’ve never heard such a rigmarole of fanciful make-believe in my life. I can't imagine why I agreed to accompany you here in the first place, Mister Tinker, seeing that I'd never met you before. At least you're not evil or criminal, you're just completely crazy." She looked towards Caldar and Berin. "I can see you're half way to believing this rubbish. So I'll wish you well and hope that you come out of it unscathed. As for me, I'm going back to my lodgings. Now."
With that she went swiftly from the room, her gaze averted from the Tinker, as indeed it had been since she began to speak. The old man and Idressin exchanged a glance and a nod, and the tutor slipped out quietly behind the girl.
"This is a very rough part of town," the Tinker explained, "particularly at this time of night. Now does anyone else think I'm completely crazy? Or shall I try to answer Rasscu's riddles as best I can?"
Tariska's sudden outburst had somehow cleared the air for the others. Far from having their doubts increased, they knew that her opinion of the Tinker was so wide of the mark it was laughable. And if the Tinker was serious about this whole affair, then they too had better treat it as important. They had virtually no idea of what he was talking about, but they were willing to listen and learn. They said so, and the Tinker resumed.
"Good. Then I'll move on more quickly. Now if you had to change the course of a river, what would you do? You wouldn't stand there with your arms spread out and try to push it back; it would be stupid. That's exactly what we're proposing if we talk about trying to change the world or to change the way people behave. No, you would need to make or find an alternative course that flowed the right way and then begin to divert the water into it. If the river found the new course preferable, it would lose little time in cutting its way through by itself.
I talked about the Talismans as having magical powers. Perhaps I should have said real rather than magical. The power that’s in them could help us to start the waters moving in the right direction. Without them we’d lack the strength to do even that. The Talismans, my friends, are the key to everything."
"Have I missed something?" Berin asked. "I thought the Talismans vanished a very long time ago and haven't been seen since. How’s anyone going to find them?"
"Patience." the Tinker replied calmly. "I'm trying to give you in a few hours knowledge which has taken centuries to acquire. The Talismans did indeed fade from sight many thousands of years ago. But it’s not their nature to stay dormant for ever. At long intervals they appear again and become available for those who hold the key to their use. If no one finds them and makes the true connection during their brief reappearance, they vanish again for another long span of time.
One of the Talismans is due to return again very soon, and I’ve hunted the whole world for years trying to establish when and where. Everything seems to point to a time two years from now, somewhere in the Empire. If we fail to find and make contact with the Talisman, it won’t be seen again for over a thousand years."
He did not add, ‘and that will be too late’. They were absorbing a heavy enough load already.
"Slow down a minute, Tinker, please," Caldar broke in. "My head hurts. So not only are these magical Talismans real, but quite soon we might actually be able to see something made at the time of Creation by the gods, whoever they are, something powerful enough to alter the course of the world. That's a big lump to swallow. Like Rasscu I've learned to believe the craziest things you say, but even the idea of something this awesome and strange is going to take time to sink in."
"What I don't understand, " Berin joined in again, "is why all this concerns us. I mean I see that if mankind is responsible for the earth, then in theory, we're all responsible; but when it comes down to practicalities, to actually doing something about it, you're the only person here who has any idea what this is all about. So why don't you just hire some nice strong bodyguards and go and find this Talisman and get on with it. We don't have any special abilities and we're just going to slow you down."
The Tinker looked at Berin seriously for a moment, then he smiled. "Well, Berin, it concerns you because it's not I, but you, I mean all of you, who must go and claim it. The Empire’s a very large place, and I've no clear knowledge yet as to the location and time of the Talisman's appearance. And even if we do unearth that information, there would be no point in my being there without you. The Talisman will respond only to its rightful Guardian. One of you is the heir to that role."
They were struck dumb. Until now they had been grappling with a legend which was slowly coming to life and connecting to their everyday world. That was hard enough to accept, but it was possible because to this point it remained a matter of words and concepts. They felt they could dismiss it all with a single statement of disbelief, as Tariska had done. Now it had suddenly become personal and in a sense inescapable.
"It's been my task for a very long time," the Tinker continued, "to prepare for this moment by seeking out and deciphering the prophecies relating to the Talismans: that's been the easier part. I’ve also been searching for the living Guardians, the inheritors of the legend."
"And out of the whole world one of us is the right person?" Caldar was wide-eyed in wonder. "How can you tell?"
"There are signs I could read from the first moment I met each of you. When you know how to look, it's possible to see . . .," the Tinker uncharacteristically hesitated for a moment, "the complete structure of a person. You are different from most people in that there is one part in each of you which is more or less intact, a faculty which is atrophied in almost all others, but essential for someone to become a Guardian."
"Hey, how about that!" Rasscu's natural high spirits were trying to reassert themselves, after being completely overawed for so long. He looked at the others. "You didn't realise we were so special, did you?"
"This faculty, Rasscu," the Tinker went on drily, "means that you're more open to certain dangers too, more vulnerable than everyone else. Anyway because this is a particularly important moment in time, the prophecies have much to say about the Guardians and without realising it you've been showing unmistakably that you're the ones chosen for the role. Besides that, I took the liberty of entering your dreams. I'm sorry to say there's no doubt."
“And there’s someone else who knows about us too, isn’t there?” Berin’s tone was challenging.
“Who d’you…” Rasscu began, when Caldar interrupted him.
“He means Kulkin and his master, don’t you, Berin? The people who knew enough to find me. Is that right, Tinker? This is what it’s all been about, sending us to Norleng and all the talk about keeping us safe? Because we may turn out to be Guardians or something? You could have told us sooner. We’ve spent all this time looking over our shoulders and we never knew why or who to look for.”
“Are you any wiser now? Even I am not sure who Kulkin’s master is. But rest assured we’ll have more than one enemy to deal with as the time draws nearer. Not only do we have to be on time to find the Talisman, we also have to protect it from those who’ll try to take it from us.”
There was another long silence. They had moved from disbelief through incomprehension to a kind of numb acceptance, and all at once it was beginning to feel like a burden.
The Tinker ran his gaze over their troubled faces and said, "It's time for sleep. We’ll talk again in the morning. Come, put all thoughts of the future aside for the moment; there's nothing so heavy as an imaginary load. If a world-renowned mender
of leaky kettles," he struck a dramatic pose, fingers in his belt, "doesn’t know what’s going to happen tomorrow, then apprentice basket-makers and part-time herdsmen would do well not to worry about it."
The tension evaporated with their laughter. They were getting up to find themselves somewhere to sleep, when a thought struck Berin.
"Tariska. What about Tariska? What if she's the right one and she won't listen to you at all?" The others turned back also, intrigued to hear the answer.
"Oh, she'll listen in the end. She's more complicated than you three and she needs more time to come to terms with this. Anyway you all started off half-trusting me, which makes it easier to accept this kind of 'fanciful make-believe'. She was hearing it all from a stranger. No, no." He lifted a hand in protest. "No more questions tonight. I can see you're just about to get into your stride, Berin. Please go to bed and let an old man get his sleep."
They went up the rickety stairs laughing and were so soon asleep that they did not hear Idressin's return or the long conversation downstairs before the 'old man' eventually reached his bed.
“She got back unharmed,” Idressin reported, as he stripped off his wet cloak. Even in the house the sound of the rain outside was a soft roar. “Too wet tonight for the chancers. So how much did you tell them?”
“That one of them is to be the Guardian. And that we’ll be facing other enemies besides Kulkin, no specifics. It was enough, believe me. The news about the Guardian hit them hard.”
“Not the enemies?”
“No, but that’s because we’ve given them nothing to go on.”
“And you still think that’s best?” the tutor asked quietly.
“Let’s go into the kitchen and have a brew with Meruvai,” the Tinker replied, glancing at the open stairs leading up to the bedrooms.
With the pleasant aroma of blended seeds rising from their mugs, the pair sat by the smoky little stove and continued their conversation. The drab housekeeper drew up a stool beside Idressin.
The Tears of Sisme Page 23
