The Tears of Sisme

by Peter Hutchinson

  It was Nexi who knelt in front of her, speaking to her intently, his face held bare inches from the child's. He was getting little response. The tiny girl held her head stubbornly down, twisting a piece of cloth in her fingers. As Tariska approached, the packer clearly lost patience. In one swift movement he picked Milaiya up and shook her hard.

  He was just turning round with the child in his arms, frustration plain in his expression, when he came face to face with Tariska. Her closeness startled him, but he relaxed instantly on realising who it was.

  "Yes?" he asked aggressively.

  Tariska didn't like what she had seen from a distance, but she decided to give him the benefit of the doubt.

  "What is Milaiya doing out here?"

  "The family asked me to look after the girl for a while. We're just taking a little walk, aren't we, Milara?"

  For an instant she was fooled by his easy manner despite his mistake over the name. Then Milaiya, without uttering a sound, looked at her in an unmistakable anguished appeal and stretched her arms and her little body desperately towards Tariska. The girl felt a cold fury such as she had never known before possess her. She had lost all interest in any reasons Nexi might have for his actions. He was lying. He had taken the child, whose loneliness and fear penetrated her to the heart.

  She stepped forward and Milaiya came easily into her arms. The packer stood dumbfounded, as if he couldn’t believe what was happening; after a moment's hesitation he reached for the mule-stick on the ground beside him. Maybe he’d missed this chance of finding out where the entertainers kept their money, but he could still beat some respect into the interfering little slut while no one was around. When he straightened stick in hand, he froze into immobility. The girl had not moved away. Instead she had stepped in close to him. What he saw in her face made his spirit quail and he took a sudden step backwards. Nexi was a typical bully without real courage. Pride however he possessed in abundance, and once he was over the initial shock of Tariska’s anger, bluster quickly filled the void in the pit of his stomach.

  “You’ve no call to sneer at me, you cheap tart. I know you’re a piece of goods for sale. Treat me right or you’ll end up where your fancy friends are - in jail.”

  “What d’you mean?” The girl asked the question mechanically, her mind racing.

  “How d’you think the soldiers knew where to come looking for them in For Dendak?” Nexi asked in a self-congratulating tone, too far into his boast for caution. “ It was me set that up. S’Bissi couldn’t wait to turn them in to save his own skin, but it was me saw the reward poster and went down to police headquarters. Got the reward too, so if you want paying for a little…..”

  He stopped. Those grey eyes seized him and turned the words to dust in his throat. For a moment he felt that his heart had stopped beating altogether, then Milaiya started to cry and Tariska turned and walked away. It was some time before the packer could gather himself to make a move.

  “Ah shit,” he said weakly to her departing back. “My money’s as good as anyone else’s. But I’ll get you one of these days, you skinny whore, and no payment either.”

  Still muttering threats and curses he set off for the camp. The man sitting unnoticed behind the shed stayed unmoving, with a face like stone. G’Shenni had been keeping watch over Tariska, as ordered, and he had heard it all. Ten long minutes later he got up smoothly and went to prepare his master’s supper.

  Empire, Holonai Mountains

  Hundreds of miles to the north west in the Holonai Mountains, Caldar looked out dejectedly from a makeshift shelter at the slushy snow which covered the clearing and dripped from the trees. It was three weeks since Rasscu's startling intervention at the monastery. They were emerging from the highest mountains now into the tangle of steep forested ridges and rocky summits which lay to the west of Kramenti. He felt that he had been cold and wet for ever, although they had only left the monastery ten days before. And Idressin assured them there was a lot more riding to do before they reached the coast. With the continual low cloud and driving snow Caldar thought even the ponies looked miserable in the gloomy half-light of morning.

  He lay back in his blankets with a sigh, and thinking 'just another few minutes', he let his mind drift back to the meetings with Master Dzar.

  "Let me tell you that which you wish to know," the old monk had begun late that first night in his tiny bare room.

  "During my retreat, I was unable to rekindle the sacred flame." Master Dzar sighed. "Every scrap of knowledge, every spark of power that I could gather from myself and from the Brotherhood was not sufficient. But I could not give up. What else have I to live for? So I decided to look wider before death took me and to see if I could discover the cause of our extraordinary misfortunes."

  He paused, and passed a hand ruminatively over the top of his head. "You see this Brotherhood has existed for many thousands of years." He was addressing the three young travellers now. "We are the keepers of a living tradition handed down from times when there was only one Talisman, the First. At one time life in the old kingdoms, indeed in the whole world, was based on the truth and power of that Talisman."

  Caldar had not heard this version of the legend; there had always been three Talismans together. He looked questioningly at the tutor. Idressin ignored him as the old monk continued.

  "Our legends say that, when only the First Talisman existed, it was a time of harmony and blessedness for humanity. There were no divisions amongst us, and because everyone felt and heeded the Talisman, we were not separated from the Gods, as we are now. Then the Second and Third Talismans were created, and when man misused them and went astray, in the end even those who had long been guided by the First Talisman went with them into darkness and ignorance. All except a handful. Five men who decided that knowledge of the First Talisman must not die, and hoped that by preserving an unbroken and pure tradition the direct truth they had experienced could still be felt and made available to succeeding generations.

  The sacred fire in the sanctuary was the only visible link with the First Talisman left to us. It was kindled and maintained by the efforts and self-sacrifice of the original five brothers, using all they knew of the power of the Talisman. Of course there was no monastery for a long time, but the fire was kept alight through every generation for thousands of years. Until now." He smiled, a little sadly. "It fell to me to be Master of the Brotherhood when the flame went out."

  There was a long silence. Caldar was spellbound. Vistas were opening before him of time spans longer than he could comprehend, times when legends were lived by real people. And Master Dzar's frail body released an aura of serenity and wisdom which illuminated every corner of his cell. Somehow Caldar realised that this different dimension of being was present also in Idressin and the Tinker, but in them it seemed to be purposely hidden. The old monk was as transparent as clear water, and radiance flowed from him for all to see.

  It was the tutor who broke the silence. "And did you find the cause?" he asked gently.

  "No, I did not. But in the last months of retreat my vision cleared. It would be false to claim that all the knowledge of previous Masters was at my disposal.” He chuckled. “That would be too great a burden. And yet towards the end there were periods when time ceased to have any meaning and through my predecessors much of the past was as available to me as the present. Many things became open to me that had been concealed before. I knew from the prophecies that there was the possibility of the First Talisman returning from time to time, if only we could become aware of it.

  It seems that on one of these occasions nearly three thousand years ago, the Master then was able by extraordinary efforts to predict the time and the place and was present there himself. It was a bitter day for him when he found that it would not reveal itself to him. By study and by intense concentration he divined later that it would only answer to the unique person chosen to be the Guardian at that time. And he concluded that even if any such person was alive, it would be impossible to
find them, so if the Talisman and its Guardian were to come together, it would only be by chance. The only role remaining for the Brotherhood was to do what we had always done - keep true knowledge of the First Talisman alive."

  The monk stopped again, and simply sat gazing at the wall. Caldar had seen old people do that before, when their minds seemed to wander off in a reverie and as often as not they would end up by falling asleep. He was certain that Master Dzar was not dozing; his calm inward-looking gaze still radiated awareness of all around him.

  "That of course is history," the old man eventually resumed. "What I discovered in the final months of meditation was that once again there is the chance that the First Talisman might reappear. Soon. It is already signalling its nearness to those who know how to listen. That was glad news, though no great surprise, for the Books of Prophecy indicate the return of one Talisman at about this time. What amazed me was that it appeared to be already aware of the presence of a Guardian, almost to be searching for him. How this could be, I could not understand. And whether it would be possible for Guardian and Talisman to come together at the appointed time, I could not tell. Just the possibility that it might be so blazed inside me like a sun, and when Behenna withheld all food and water from me, he did not realise that I needed no such sustenance.

  Yet at the end maybe I was weakened too much. In my pride I had forgotten the troubles inside the monastery, and when it was time to come out of my retreat it was too late. I used all my powers to reopen the cell by force or to compel monks outside to release me. But Behenna allowed no one to approach and he closed the door itself with some extraordinary spell, which I could not break. So you see, your arrival was timely, Fadeen. For me and for the brethren. But it is no coincidence that you are here at this moment: you and those with you are the key to my vision. And if we of Kramenti can help you to bring Guardian and Talisman together, we will."

  "You said you knew where the Talisman was to appear," the tutor prompted.

  “It will appear ‘under the waters of Sisme’,” was the simple reply.

  “Are you sure?” There was a note of genuine uncertainty in the tutor’s question, which made Caldar look at him in surprise.

  “Yes, I am sure,” Dzar replied. “Believe me, my friend, the words were written in letters of fire across the sky. I can see them still.”

  “But Sisme’s Well…it’s a legend. From the Age of Heroes, five thousand years ago, ten thousand, who knows? It may be true, but it will be no easier to find than the Talisman itself .”

  The old monk smiled before replying. “I did not say that those were the only words. There was more. ‘ Under the waters of Sisme will the Talisman be revealed in the leopard’s shadow.’"

  A long silence ensued.

  “It must be Karkor,” Idressin said at last. “ ‘In the leopard’s shadow’ means close to the Leopard Throne, so somewhere in the Imperial Enclave.” He smiled grimly. “A fitting place for us to end our journey. It sounds as if they built the Palace right over Sisme’s Well.”

  "It will not be easy to bring the Guardian to Karkor in safety,” Master Dzar commented. “Here in Kramenti we concern ourselves little with the day-to-day affairs of the Empire, but some things we have heard from the Summoners and some I have seen in my hours of vision. Though they probably know nothing of the true Talisman’s coming, the authorities all over the kingdom are nervous of unrest and are doubling their vigilance. Karkor itself is full of soldiers and in the Enclave itself state buildings like the Palace will be guarded day and night. You will not be allowed to approach or worse still you may be seized for question."

  "If we had only the authorities to outwit, it might be straightforward." The tutor's tone was still light. "But there are other enemies involved of quite a different order, which is where I need your advice.”

  Dzar looked at him enquiringly.

  “Enemies who probably have no interest in the true purpose of the prophecies, yet clever enough to take advantage of them if they get the chance,” the tutor continued.

  “I know little of what is happening outside these mountains….” Dzar began.

  Idressin cut in. “The Terrechar you do know, none better.”

  “Ah, our kindred.” The old man glanced across at the blank faces of his young listeners. “They know nothing of our connection? Then perhaps we can talk a little of history another time. You have a question about the Terrechar, Fadeen?”

  “This is not history. The Terrechar are operating in the Empire again, genuine from all I can tell and fearsome as ever. Is it a coincidence they’re reappearing at the same time as the Talisman? Perhaps not, but they seem to have an interest in it. Perhaps they’re even mentioned in the prophecies?”

  Master Dzar held his eye for a long moment, then shook his head. “I never believed them all gone. But as for the prophecies, I do not know. I have never examined the sources with such a question in mind. But I will do so, and if I discover anything I will send you word. The Terrechar would indeed be unwelcome enemies, impossible for you to guard against in a crowded caravan. Perhaps it is as well you had to ride away in For Dendak.”

  “There are other things we can’t ride away from,“ Idressin replied. “One of them has been at work even here. The power which Behenna used to close the door of your cell was not his own. It came from a far greater source.“ Master Dzar never moved, but Caldar could sense the sudden sharpening of his attention, “And I fear that it’s aware of us and of our intention of bringing Talisman and Guardian together."

  "Then how on earth was Rass able to overcome Behenna?" Caldar asked, curiosity opening his mouth at last.

  "He did the only thing possible.” It was the tutor who answered. “He sensed the Sefar, the symbol of Life forged into the sacred knife. He put his entire trust in it and let himself be guided, so his action was pure, without fear or personal intent. That turned the power in Behenna back on itself."

  "What am I to do with this renegade when he recovers?" Master Dzar voiced the question aloud, musingly as if asking it of himself. "I do not wish to keep him in the monastery. Yet from what you say, I do not know if I have power enough to expel him and keep him out."

  No one spoke for some time. Then Idressin said, "You might succeed in driving Behenna out. Great power still resides in Kramenti. But you would be taking risks yourself which the Brotherhood might regret sorely. It’s not worth staking your life on such a small issue. It would be better to have him carried out now while he’s still weak. The nearest villages are a long way south, but a strong party would get back before winter closes the passes. As for his returning, place him under the Command of Forgetting, as you would any other monk who left Kramenti without your blessing. It may not hold forever with Behenna, but within a couple of years perhaps it won’t matter anyway."

  “You mean when the Talisman comes? Much sooner than that, my friend,” Dzar said with quiet emphasis. He nodded at Idressin’s obvious surprise. “Yes, next spring or summer. Before the snows of next winter, the Talisman will have appeared.”

  “The Tinker calculated that we had two full years.” Idressin sounded almost defensive. “Even if we’re right about it being inside the Enclave, to find the exact time and place by next spring….” He shook his head. “You’re sure, of course?”

  “I am sure. The clear vision of the past months allows no doubt. The vision has faded, but the touch of the Talisman has not. I can feel it now. It is close, very close. You are more than welcome in Kramenti, but you cannot delay here for long.”

  As if by mutual consent the talk had veered away after that and the young travellers could scarcely absorb what they were hearing, as the old monk had ranged lightly over thousands of years of the Brotherhood’s history and way of life. They had eventually gone to bed full of wonder and blissfully unaware of the sombre conversation taking place after their departure.

  Both men sat long in silent reflection. At length the old monk spoke with uncharacteristic heaviness. “I have been blin
d. A Shadowmaster, nothing else could have held that door against me. And the problems of the Summoners, that is no coincidence. Maybe even the extinguishing of the flame too. At the time of our greatest hope it was to be expected. Until now these horrors have inhabited ancient tales of ruin and despair, we know nothing of them. But surely Behenna is no Shadowmaster.”

  “No, he’s a puppet . But something was capable of investing him with great power. Something taught him how to create fear and feed on it.”

  Dzar’s limpid gaze held on the tutor’s face. “I see you have met these terrors before. And overcome them?”

  “One does not win victories over a Shadowmaster.”

  “Then it was right to conceal this from your companions. Facing a battle with no hope of victory, it is difficult for the young not to lose heart. Such fearful enemies, Fadeen. And the Terrechar also. You think they may know of you?”

  “Perhaps. They’ve been taking an interest lately in self-declared Guardians to the point of killing two or three of them and we don’t know why. I’m hoping we’re not on any list of theirs yet, but I can’t be sure.”

  “Is this to be another Guardian who will never see his Talisman?”

  The tutor shrugged. “Our chances of escaping notice are better than they seem. At worst we’ll be only one of many possible targets and our enemies will be spread wide, trying to catch them all. Fortunately Behenna’s in no state to pass on news of us: his master will only know that someone cut the strings on his puppet here and he’ll assume the source of his defeat’s in the monastery.” He glanced across at Master Dzar. “Look to yourselves. You may soon have more than Behenna to deal with. It’s a very long time since the shadow reached out so openly into the world: of all places it has chosen Kramenti. And the Terrechar will be searching for you too, that you already know. They will never forgive.”