The Tears of Sisme

by Peter Hutchinson

  At last they topped a gentle rise and saw the heart of the city below them. The great harbour lay directly ahead, and radiating from it were several wide avenues which soon lost themselves in the complex tangle of the town centre. To the left of the port area towering structures of brown stone clearly housed the power and authority of the city, while in the foreground one further Culband laid a swathe of green right through the forest of buildings. None of the young travellers had seen such a sight before and they hovered between awe and excitement.

  They headed for a space set aside for them in the inner Culband, and they had no sooner pulled up into their new quarters than the entertainers were setting up big tents and small side-shows, so that by evening there was already a brightly-lit fair in full swing.

  Tariska, much to her annoyance, was told by Idressin to stay with S’Bissi: going out on the first night of the fair, which was invariably the wildest, would finally destroy whatever credibility remained in her ‘bride-to-be’ story. She would have ignored the instruction from anyone else, but she complied with an ill grace and contented herself with giving poor S’Bissi an uncomfortable evening. Rasscu and the boys had no such restrictions and they delighted in the sudden flowering of the caravan's hitherto disregarded rump.

  All three excelled at throwing things and after winning numerous prizes for shying everything from tomatoes to old boots, they gave them all back to the booth-holders, reckoning that everyone in the caravan was part of the same family. Stalls selling smoking fried Fitchum and strings of tiny blue sausages stood next to fortune-tellers, strong-man acts and magicians. In the large tents girl riders in jewelled costumes did amazing tricks on horses and trapeze artists swooped and swung.

  After the desert and the sheer length of the journey even the illusion of fun and beauty and plenty was intoxicating. In fact once they found a stall selling cheap beer, they set about getting truly drunk. When Rasscu smilingly marshalled his unsteady charges to bed a couple of hours later, they were convinced that Dendria was a wonderful country full of the friendliest people on earth.

  *

  Dendria did not reciprocate these sentiments. Caldar was woken sometime during the night by a strong little hand, which shook him hard. Blearily he tried to discover who was rousing him; he could see nothing in the darkness under the wagon, and when he tried to speak, a hand was immediately clamped over his mouth.

  "Quiet," whispered a soft voice. "It's Tintrip. Word's out that soldiers are starting to search the caravan, looking for a man travelling with two Espar youths. I thought you and your friends would want to know."

  The boys glanced nervously round the shadows, their eyes always returning to the still figure of the tutor seated across the campfire. Eventually Berin could wait no longer.

  "Idressin," he whispered, "why aren't we escaping? It seems mad to be just waiting for the soldiers to come."

  The tutor laughed. "No need to whisper," he replied. "They're not here yet. And no need to be so jumpy either. Look at Rasscu; he's not worried."

  Teeth gleamed in the darkness as the Tesserit smiled. "I’ve seen you do the impossible before."

  "Let's hope there’s no need for that tonight.”

  Once Caldar had come fully awake half an hour earlier, he had taken Tintrip immediately to Idressin's tent. The tutor had thanked the little acrobat and advised him to go back to his own quarters before he was missed. Then telling Caldar that he would be back soon and to rouse Berin and Rasscu meanwhile, he disappeared into the night. It had been a lonely wait for the three of them not knowing whether they were about to flee or hide or fight. Every strange noise in their part of the huge encampment made them tense in anticipation. And it was not much better after Idressin's return. He had calmly suggested that they stoke up the fire and make some amalra tea while they waited. The only reply he would make to their enquiries about what they should do was, "Wait. Remember you’re all working for me and it will be alright. Just act naturally."

  A sudden commotion nearby brought both boys to their feet. They could hear raised voices, S’Bissi's among them, then sounds of movement all around as their campfire was surrounded.

  "That's them." The merchant's voice came from immediately behind Idressin. "That's the ones I was telling you about, colonel. Espars, all four of them. Bought the wagon and stock at Sand City from one of my associates who was turning back. That's the ringleader, the one in brown there. He …." He fell silent, as the tutor rose slowly to his feet and turned towards him.

  "Jackals that yip in the night should be careful to choose the right prey."

  The boys were amazed by the cold venom in Idressin's voice, as he went on, "You will pay dearly for this mistake, my fat friend. Now, whoever is in charge out there, I suggest you step forward and identify yourself and let’s get this little farce over with."

  Even as he was speaking, a tall figure in brown combat uniform came into the firelight and regarded him steadily. "Ah, Captain," the tutor continued, "be so good as to explain all this." With his last words he waved his hand at the darkness where pinpoints of light were reflecting from drawn weapons on every side.

  The soldier was clearly made cautious by Idressin's supreme confidence, nor was it lost on him that this man had correctly identified him as a captain. Maybe a guess, but all the same someone to be reckoned with. Yet the captain had his orders.

  "We are searching for Quezma agents, known to be travelling in this caravan. A merchant with a driver and two youths. In the circumstances, sir, I will have to take you into custody for further questioning; your case tallies too closely to be overlooked."

  Caldar's heart sank. It was a good act Idressin was putting on, but this man's information was too accurate and he appeared the dedicated type, unlikely to be open to bribery.

  "Hmph!" Idressin snorted impatiently. "Step into my tent a moment, will you, Captain. You can place your guards all round to make it quite secure. I have something for your eyes only, which will take care of this nonsense. Have someone get you a lantern."

  And without waiting for a response, he marched straight through the ring of troops into his tent. The captain, who appeared to be still according him the courtesy of doubt, duly followed lantern in hand, having disposed his men in a wider ring which included both tent and campfire. Little light escaped through the thick canvas and the voices inside were kept to a low murmur, so it was left to youthful imagination to construct the likely meeting taking place. Confrontation? The travellers seemed to hold no cards. Bribery? The captain didn't look the type. Persuasion? Almost all that was possible, but what on earth could the tutor invent sufficiently compelling for the soldiers to let them go?

  After a very long twenty minutes, the tent flap opened and the two men emerged. "Get your things together. We'll be leaving with the troops in ten minutes."

  At Idressin's words, the boys stared in dismay. He had actually failed. They couldn't believe it. However hopeless the situation seemed, they had always had the irrational feeling that he would extricate them somehow. The smile and wink which accompanied the words did little to encourage them.

  Four horses were led up a few minutes later, the best of S’Bissi's stock Caldar noted, and they were invited to stow their gear in the saddle-bags. Then each leading his own mount, they were escorted out of the camp. A quiet challenge from the darkness ahead identified the picket lines where the troops had left their own horses, and by the light of newly lit torches they could see row upon row of glistening coats and flowing manes.

  Idressin's clear voice came to them from up ahead where he was walking alongside the captain.

  "I must say, Captain, I'm impressed. You've maintained silence and control, a most difficult combination on a night operation. Any mistakes and the whole camp would have been in an uproar. I commend you. I would have known you were a detachment of the Imperial Guard, even without your uniforms."

  "But nowadays, sir, we deliberately wear the plain battle fatigues common to the whole army on this kind of
mission," the officer explained politely, "to make identification impossible."

  The little cortege had halted now and the boys could see the two men plainly in the light of a nearby torch. The captain's stance was as respectful as his voice, yet his last remark held an unspoken question.

  "Ah, my young friend," Idressin resumed in a confiding tone, "not everything can be taught at the Academy. Some of it you have to learn from battle-scarred old dogs like me. Ask yourself, who but the Imperial Guard has the confidence to remove all the insignia of rank from their uniforms when going into an operation? They know their discipline is sufficient without such trappings. And if you don't want anyone to know your own rank, make sure that the place where your captain's star normally sits is as faded as the rest of your breast patch."

  To the surprise of his friends, the tutor then clapped the officer familiarly on the arm and said briskly, "Right. This is where we must leave you. You're clear what to do."

  "Maintain the watch on the camp until dawn to see if anyone attempts to slip away and follow you, sir. If they do, you can be sure we'll intercept them. And then to give the word out that you four have been arrested and taken to headquarters to be kept under strict guard, no contact allowed."

  "That will do excellently. You can tell the Resident that I'll contact him within forty-eight hours. I have urgent personal reports for Colonel Theyn, but it's only fair that I let the Resident know what's happening on his own doorstep before Theyn hears about it. Good fortune, Captain. If you'll whistle up that fellow of yours to guide us, we'll be off."

  A few moments later they mounted up and walked their horses slowly in single file behind a mounted trooper, who picked his way torch aloft to the outer edge of the Culband. Once on city roads, they trotted forward, the three friends side by side behind Idressin and the guide. It was almost light by the time they approached the city limits, emerging from a maze of lanes to find themselves on a broad highway heading south west out into the country. With a brief salute to Idressin, their guide turned his horse and galloped off the way they had come.

  The tutor looked around at the surprising range of expressions being bent upon him, relief, bewilderment, gratitude, exasperation. Before any of them could launch a single question, he threw back his head and laughed uproariously. It took a while for him to sober up enough to talk, then wiping the tears from his eyes, he said solemnly, "Now men, follow me, in good military style and we'll go foraging." He rode off down the highway chuckling, followed by his three mystified companions.

  After half an hour taken at a steady trot, Idressin turned off along a lane heading due west into rolling farmland, and all sign of For Dendak and the busy main road faded away behind in a matter of minutes. Rural Dendria closed about them, timeless and comforting. Twists and turns, lanes and farmtracks, took them ever deeper into wooded countryside where even the villages seemed widely spaced. The tutor seemed to know where he was going, and sure enough, a couple of hours after leaving the highway, he reined up and said, "With any luck breakfast awaits us around the next bend, my friends."

  Round the corner the way opened up to a shallow ford with a sawmill on the near bank. Opposite, a large farmhouse in warm brown stone glowed in the morning sun, with a garden, almost overgrown with flowering bushes, sloping down to the water's edge. Ten minutes later they were seated in a small sunlit arbour, mugs of milk warm from the morning milking on the table beside them. Struck by the same thought, the youths looked at each other and grinned. The Beltan's farmhouse seemed a very long way away, and yet so familiar was this rural setting to them that they felt more at home than they had since leaving the Easterleng.

  Rasscu took advantage of their distraction and got in the first question. "Come on, then, Idressin. Tell us. What did you say to that Captain in the tent?"

  Berin was next. "And what was S’Bissi doing, giving us away like that?"

  With Caldar a close third. "What's going to happen to Tariska now? Are we going to go back for her?"

  The tutor rolled his eyes, then said resignedly, "Alright, let's get this over with. No, we're not going back for Tikka. There's no need; she’ll be quite safe with the caravan. S’Bissi did what I told him to do. I said to the Captain that I was an Imperial agent, currently passing through Dendria on my way to report to my boss in Karkor and he would be unwise to hinder me. There, will that do?" Glancing round at the glares focussed on him from all sides, he sighed. "No, I suppose not. Alright. Breakfast first, then I'll explain a bit more."

  Bacon, eggs, and mushrooms with fresh bread and butter, all disappeared like magic from the table. It was served by a pert little lass, as unlike Gemma Beltan's bulky homeliness as could be imagined. Returning to clear the dishes, she flicked a quick glance over the two boys, before asking Caldar sweetly if they would be staying long. Berin could almost see the memory of Hreshin rising in his friend's mind, as he quickly replied that they would probably have to be leaving this charming place within an hour or two. The girl's face dimpled into a smile. "Well, now you know where we are, you'll pass again soon, won’t you?." A toss of golden curls, a twitch of her red skirt, and she was gone.

  "That was quick, Caldar." Idressin smiled. "I don’t think Rasscu could have done better."

  After the drama of his near-marriage with Hreshin, Caldar could take this kind of banter in his stride. Only a slight blush betrayed him as he replied, "You can't escape by changing the subject. Breakfast's over. Time for you to talk."

  "Very well. After Tintrip's message, I went off to see S’Bissi to tell him to go and find the man in charge of the soldiers and offer his services as an informer." The tutor held up his hand to silence imminent questions from both of the boys. "I’ll tell you why in a minute. I also got hold of some documents of mine from S’Bissi's strongbox. One of them is an authentic letter from Colonel Theyn, who’s in command of the Special Forces, from his headquarters in Karkor. It stated that the bearer, one Colonel Paddak, was travelling incognito on Imperial business and that all Imperial authorities should aid him to the limit if called upon to do so. The letter carried the Imperial seal and it would be a brave man who questioned it. Better still by pure luck it seems Special Forces were in charge of this operation. The Captain took a deal of persuading at first, but the letter finally convinced him I was genuine, particularly as I knew the names of some of the senior officers in the Imperial Guard in Karkor.

  Once he was satisfied, he couldn’t do enough for me. So I pretended real Quezma agents were on our tail and asked him to fool them by giving out that we were being held in For Dendak in strict security for a couple of days. That may help to delay whoever’s after us. Someone seems to know right where we are, or they did last night."

  Idressin paused, looking thoughtful for a moment, then resumed. "Anyway, I gambled that Tariska was unsuspected and could safely be left with S’Bissi. It appears from the Captain's information I was right; they were only looking for the four of us. Now that S’Bissi’s distanced himself from us, Tikka should be completely safe."

  "I thought we were all safe,” Berin put in. "You know, honoured Imperial servants."

  Rasscu laughed. "I don't think we're in for such an easy passage, Berin. We didn't leave the main highway and sneak off into this nice concealing countryside for nothing."

  "Rass is quite right," the tutor agreed. "The captain said there’s a warrant out for us with a reward attached. It looks as though someone from the caravan wanted the money. We’ve wriggled out of that one, but the warrant and the raid on the camp were set up by the Special Forces, and when they find out we fooled them and slipped the net, they're not going to give up. So we're safer buried in these rustic parts. Dendria's very big, and away from the densely populated areas it's as peaceful as the Lake, as you can see. Now, it’s time we moved on; we're not far enough from the highway yet. Just one more question each."

  “Not again. You’re always saying that,” Caldar grumbled.

  “You want to sit here talking till the cavalry arr
ive?” Idressin asked mildly.

  Berin didn’t hesitate. "How did you get the letter from the Colonel?"

  "I had it drawn up for me by a forger in Tarkus. He's a craftsman and with an original to copy he can reproduce anything. And how did I procure the original of one of Colonel Theyn's letters? You've already had your last question, Berin," the tutor said mischeviously. "I'll just say one was made available to me in Tarkus. For the moment, that will have to do."

  "How is it that you know Dendria so well?" Rasscu asked next. "Like this place."

  "I spent a lot of time here in my youth, Rass. Much of it was different then, but things change slowly out in the country and it seems the old Dendria I knew is still much the same."

  He stopped and cocked an eye at Caldar, who was brimming with questions and hated to be forced to choose just one of them. In the end, sensing that Idressin was about to get up, he came out with the thing that had nagged at him ever since the Borogoi attack.

  "What was the point of the Borogoi raid? They weren’t really after Berin and me, were they, you know, when they called for the young men to go out in front?"

  “The raid. I’m pretty sure that was just the Quezmas winding up for war. There were Quezma citizens in the caravan, who would make a fuss about being attacked close to the Empire’s borders. While the fact that it was obviously Borogoi acting on Quezma orders is guaranteed to make the Emperor really mad. As provocation, it works twice over.

  Pulling out the young men? I’m not sure. Borogoi often kill men they capture, however young, maybe torture them first for entertainment. And of course it’s possible the leader had heard about the reward for that birthmark of yours, just a little extra profit on the side for him.”

  Caldar shivered. “It makes me feel as though there’s someone watching us all the time, who knows exactly where we are.”

  “Maybe there is. I find it pays at times like this to assume the worst.”