The Tears of Sisme

by Peter Hutchinson

  "I am taking these guests of the Empress through to the private apartments, Vitzi. This is A..."

  "I'm sure there's no need for introductions," Idressin interrupted smoothly, turning a charming smile on Vitzi, "You look like a young lady who knows how much the Empress' guests value discretion, eh?"

  Vitzi visibly made a rapid reassessment. This ill-dressed party were not workmen or new servants. The smile was fully in evidence, as she nodded and agreed to be the soul of discretion, and the long slits swung invitingly wide as she opened another door for them behind the drapes. The thick white carpet stretched the length of the corridor beyond and made their progress so silent that a man hurrying round the corner at the end bumped right into them.

  "Oh, I'm sorry, Mr Foxin. I didn't see you."

  "What are you doing in the private apartments, Orriment?" Foxin's voice was sharp with disapproval. "You know the rules."

  Orriment was a good-looking young man with fine features and expressive dark eyes. Just now he appeared distinctly uncomfortable and his eyes were almost pleading.

  "I was….. I was taking a message to the Empress' chambers, sir. To tell her that some guests had arrived." Foxin scowled suspiciously at him, as he rushed breathlessly on. "But she's not there, sir. So I was hurrying to see if I could find her on one of the other floors and inform her as soon as possible. I apologise for breaking the rules. I seem to have forgotten in my eagerness…..Sir."

  There was a pause as Foxin examined his nervous subordinate. "Get back to your duties then, and forget about delivering any message to the Empress. Go on, and don't let me catch you here again."

  Orriment backed away with more apologies, then quickly vanished down the corridor.

  "Young rapscallion. Couldn't even think up a better lie than that," Foxin snapped. "He knows very well she’s at the Governor’s tonight. Still, he can't have been doing much harm. Everyone in Razimir knows better than to steal from the Empress."

  Another corner and a few more paces brought them to a door on the right, made of beautiful flame-coloured glass. Foxin had hardly knocked when the door was flung open so suddenly that he started back. A woman stood there, almost the double of Vitzi, the same white face, blue lined eyes, slit dress and fanned-out hair. Just the eyes were different. They had been warm and welcoming as the door opened, then slowly widened in shock.

  "Hello Tikka," Idressin said cheerily, walking forward and giving her a quick hug. "I see you're trying out the special costume of the third floor. I don't think it really suits you. Nice apartment. The Empress always did know how to take care of guests. Come on in, gentlemen. It isn't polite to leave the lady's door open."

  The boys were standing in the doorway, staring at Tariska as though hypnotised, while Foxin was rooted to the spot just outside the door, looking as though he'd just swallowed a snake. Only Rasscu was able to follow the tutor's natural greeting. As for the girl, she put her hands to her face and simply stood still with her eyes tight shut.

  Idressin beckoned them all inside and shut the door. Then taking Tariska by the shoulders, he said quietly, "Look at me."

  She obeyed, motionless, but with her warring emotions visible in her eyes. A long silent two minutes passed, then she sighed and dropped her hands and her head. Idressin enfolded her in his arms, and said over his shoulder to Foxin, "Where's her bedroom? She needs to sleep."

  The boys were still not speaking when the tutor and Foxin came back into the main room. Idressin ignored them and addressed himself to the Empress' manager in a voice that made his words a clear command.

  "Ask around for me, Foxin, will you? And I want to see the Empress as well, as soon as she returns”.

  The boys were very tired, and as no one seemed particularly eager to talk, they fell asleep almost as soon as they were shown their beds. Next morning Idressin decided that all three of them might as well spend the day looking round Razimir. Tariska was still asleep, he himself had a few enquiries to make, and the sun was shining.

  "You can't fail to find the Glasshouse, even if you do get lost," he said with a smile, adding to Rasscu and Berin, "I'm relying on you two to see that Caldar doesn't set about putting Razimir to rights. I'm sure there's a great deal that's wrong in this city, but let's leave it that way just for the moment."

  Razimir was a delight. What they had seen of For Dendak had been orderly, massive and dull; here buildings of a hundred different designs sprouted from the same hillside in a riot of different colours. Arches and domes rubbed shoulders with rectangular blocks and turrets, yet in some indefinable way the whole haphazard jumble gave the impression of an exuberant harmony.

  At the tutor's suggestion, they started by going up another flight of stairs to the exotic roof garden, housing not only flowers and bushes and small delicate trees, but vividly coloured calling birds and brilliant fish in sunlit pools. The view from the roof of the Glasshouse was breathtaking. Perched on a small conical hill, almost an island, which jutted out into the bay, it was surrounded by this magical city. Mountains rose on three sides, with buildings cascading down their steep flanks straight to the water's edge. Out in the bay there was a maze of tall cliff-bound islands, linked by bridges of every imaginable variety.

  With one accord the three friends set out to see as much of Razimir as they could in one day. Caldar could only remember it later as one long blur of walking endlessly up and down steep alleyways, finding unexpected grand avenues and secluded squares, passing for miles through quiet residential streets and gardens and suddenly emerging into crowded markets or work areas. It was certainly grander than any city any of them had seen. They came across one building called the Museum of Inventions, several called Art Galleries, and even more called Bath Houses. Too impatient to stop and look inside, they determined to ask Idressin about all of them that evening.

  Everyone they met seemed courteous and friendly. Their halting speech in High Balotins caused a few smiles, but they were understood. And with some Malefor money, which Rasscu had begged from Foxin, they ate whatever looked attractive and half-familiar from food-stalls in the markets. In short it was an exhausting, pointless and very satisfying day.

  Idressin had been quite right about the Glasshouse. Everywhere they went they could catch sight of it, down some street or between two buildings. So when the waters of the bay turned dark and the shadows began to chase the sunlight up the hillsides, it was easy to turn downhill, then saunter along the waterfront towards the splendid causeway that was the main link between the Glasshouse and the city.

  Thoughts of Tariska had been obtruding on Caldar all day. He had found her altered appearance ludicrous, even repulsive, though he might even have been able to laugh about that in retrospect. But there had been something strange about Tikka herself, and worse still, Idressin had seemed concerned. That definitely alarmed him. As they entered the basement of the Glasshouse and started up the stairs, the coming encounter and what he might discover filled him with unnamed fears. He found himself lagging behind the others, his legs heavy with reluctance.

  At the first level the restaurant was already busy. He looked without interest at the nearest tables as he passed, then stopped as if turned to stone. Two tables away Tariska, dressed now in the stylish kind of clothing being worn by the other women diners, sat at a table conversing with Orriment.

  Things began to fall into place in Caldar's mind. He was as naive as most boys with his country upbringing would be, but his own emotions flashed headlong from scene to scene and his heart turned over. He saw Tariska reach out for Orriment's hand on the table, her eyes searching his with intense feeling. At that moment unable to stop himself, Caldar turned and walked back out of the Glasshouse into the night.

  Part Three - Convergence

  Chapter 20

  WHY PAY TAXES TO KARKOR?

  What has Karkor ever done for us? Except usurp Razimir’s rightful place as the true capital of the Kingdom. We Malefors united this Kingdom under Tambin the Great when Karkor was a village. W
e set up the Council of Elders to choose the monarch and the Kingdom flourished for a thousand years under this wise system.

  What happened? The Council of Elders was abolished - by the Semnos! The capital was moved to Karkor - by the Semnos! The Kings called themselves Emperors - Semno Emperors! And now the Habbakals are on the throne is it any better? No! The House of Habbakal has made the succession hereditary! One mad Belugin oaf after another. And we pay for the privilege of being ruled by them.

  Enough! We say end this madness. Join the Free Malefor Party and help us to send a clear message to Karkor.

  1.Install a new Council of Elders immediately, representing each province equally.

  2.The next Monarch-in-waiting to be chosen within a year, with no Belugin eligible for the next fifty years.

  3.Razimir to resume its role as capital of the Kingdom.

  LET US HAVE OUR RIGHTS OR WE WILL TAKE THEM FOR OURSELVES

  MALEF SATZI!

  Empire: Razimir

  When Caldar disappeared, it was several minutes before his friends realised that he had not followed them upstairs and several more minutes by the time Berin went casually down again to find him. After a brief fruitless search, he realised that it was going to take him a long time without speaking Maleforins and he went up again to enlist Idressin's help.

  The tutor had been talking to Foxin in one of the bedrooms, but he reacted immediately to Berin's information. Sending Foxin to search the kitchens, Idressin took Berin and Rasscu down with him to where they had last seen their companion. The moment his eye lighted on Tariska and Orriment in the dining room, he knew what had happened and changed his plans.

  Pairs of servants with descriptions of Caldar were sent swiftly to the causeway and to the footbridge with orders for one of them to report back any sight of him, while the other followed the youth. Others began a systematic sweep through the ornamental gardens and the parkland which surrounded the Glasshouse. Telling Caldar's unhappy friends to stay in the apartment until he returned, Idressin set himself to go through every room in the building, leaving only the basement to Foxin.

  In the event, Caldar had crossed the footbridge ten minutes before the servants arrived and was well out of sight. A couple of hours later it was becoming increasingly clear that the boy was already somewhere in Razimir. Tariska had returned to the third floor rooms half way through to receive a confused explanation from Berin and Rasscu. She was already in a highly charged emotional state and the news that Caldar was missing sent her to her bedroom in tears.

  Shortly after Tariska a richly gowned woman swept in unannounced, calling out as she entered. "Tariska. Tariska. This is really unforgivable. You . . ." She stopped on seeing Rasscu and Berin, but recovered instantly. This was a very confident lady, Rasscu thought, one accustomed to wielding authority and charm in equal measure. She was strikingly beautiful with large golden eyes and tall for a woman, her height emphasised by the red hair piled on top of her head: but something about the wide mouth and the high cheekbones raised a disturbing echo within him.

  She came towards the two men and with a charming smile touched Berin lightly on the arm with her rolled up fan. "You must be A'Delzir's friends," she began in a voice that was beguilingly low and warm. "My goodness, he told me he had some people travelling with him. He said nothing about such handsome young men. No wonder he’s keeping you locked up, you’d cause a riot among the ladies of the city. Let me introduce myself. I am Hennis Baheera. Most people call me the Empress. It's a silly name, but it's been in use so long it's too late to change it now. The Glasshouse is the extent of my empire. Now, you are?" She directed the question at each of them in turn, then went on, "Well, gentlemen, if you'll excuse me, I need to speak with Tariska in private for a moment. Then, you can be sure, I'll be returning to find out a little more about you two."

  Although no words were audible, the Empress' tone with Tariska certainly was. It started off sharp and commanding, and turned into an angry hiss as the girl's mumbled replies obviously did not please her. The pair of listeners were becoming uncomfortable at the unpleasant scene which was unfolding a few paces away, when the girl's voice suddenly rose to a shout. "I won't listen to you anymore. I won't. I won't."

  With that she came storming out into the main room, stopping in the doorway to call back angrily over her shoulder, "All you care about is your reputation. And how much money you’re making. It means nothing to you that one of our friends is missing and may be hurt. And Idressin and everyone's still searching for him."

  The Empress walked slowly back into the room, her eyes still tight with anger. "Who is this missing friend?" she asked acidly. "And how did he become lost? He would have to be blind and dumb to be unable to find the Glasshouse from anywhere in Razimir."

  "His name is Caldar," Rasscu took it on himself to answer. "We don't know why he disappeared. He was here in the Glasshouse one minute, then he seems to have just walked out. A'Delzir's searching the whole building from top to bottom right now."

  The Empress approached within a pace of Rasscu and confronted him, her face set hard. "A'Delzir is what?"

  "He's leading a search of the whole building,” the Tesserit replied flatly. He was surprised at the aggressive response this woman aroused in him.

  "Searching the Glasshouse!" There was no doubting the fury behind the words. "Without my permission. He's no idea of the damage he may do. The fortunes of this establishment are built on discretion above all." She was pale with emotion and the beautifully modulated tones were rising rapidly.

  "Then I suggest you lower your voice, Henba," Idressin interrupted casually, strolling in from the corridor. "That screech could be heard miles away."

  "Screech?" screeched the Empress. Then she seemed to gain instant control of herself and smiled icily at the tutor.

  A formidable lady, thought Rasscu again: it would be interesting to watch her cross swords with Idressin. What was it about her that set him on edge? He’d dealt with enough exasperated women before. Then he had it. Gold eyes, wide face: she was at least part Borog. He stepped away, as if the extra yard would make it easier to hold back the sudden tide of rage which swept through him.

  "Am I to presume," she asked in her normal tone, but with no hint of its initial warmth, "that you have already blundered into every room on this floor?" The tutor nodded. "And the floor below?" He nodded again. "And how many clients now feel themselves so exposed that they may never come here again? No," she held up a jewelled hand, "don't bother to try answering that. You wouldn't know or care."

  She cocked her head a little to one side and studied Idressin with disdain. "You never have cared about this place, have you? Just come by once every few years, you and that dirty old man you travel with, pat me on the head and disappear again. It's me that's had to stay and sweat and hold it all together, day in day out, year after year. Now I'm doing really well. The best ever. And you come along, casual as you please, and act as if you can do whatever you want, even if it means wrecking client relationships that I've spent years building up. You've probably done more damage in the last hour than the earthquake of 87."

  "But then I can do what I want, Henba," the tutor replied coldly. "I own the place."

  "You wouldn't get within a mile of it otherwise," spat the woman.

  "And when you paint such a stirring picture of building up the Glasshouse single-handed, aren't you conveniently forgetting the starving orphan girl I found scavenging the Razimir rubbish heaps and fed and clothed and educated, so that she now holds her head up with pride in any company?"

  "You did it for your own reasons. You always do. You're so cold. I don't think you're capable of caring about anyone other than yourself. You've always had some devious purpose ticking away inside you that makes you simply use people, even yourself. I don't know what you're aim is, A'Delzir, though I've spent years trying to find out. All I know is that it's destroyed your life in the Empire, the life you could have had.”

  “The life I didn’t wa
nt.”

  “You could even have been Emperor one day. But you threw it all away. Not on women and dice, you soon tired of that, like everything else you tried. No, instead of staying to become Duke, you just walked away. Now all that’s left is this enigmatic weirdo who skulks in and out of the Empire hoping not to be recognized. Small need to worry about that, everyone thinks you’re dead.”

  The Empress sighed and regarded the tutor almost with sadness. "Only I know you’ve been alive all these years, but you’ve no ambition to take your rightful place in the Empire, because you’re consumed by some warped idea that allows you neither the rest nor pleasure nor love that could be yours."

  "You making me an offer again in front of all these witnesses?" mocked Idressin.

  The magnificent eyes narrowed momentarily. "Those times are long gone. What use have I for a drifter, sinking further into eccentricity and obscurity at every step?"

  "Oh, I thought you rather liked being in charge of this famous establishment, together with the fancy dresses and the good times. Even drifters have their uses. Unless of course they get pushed too far. Then they might just drift off altogether and take everything with them."

  "Are you threatening me, A'Delzir?" A flush of anger was beginning to colour the Empress' face, and her breath shortened as she fought for control.

  "Yes, I am. You've had it too easy for too long, so that you've forgotten who it is you owe all this to." The tutor's voice carried a lash of contempt. "All this finery, all this status, it's just a sham. Without my backing you're nothing. You always were and you always will be. Everybody knows it."

  Now she was truly enraged. Her body went rigid and her face became a pale mask of fury. "So," she hissed," the great man thinks he has just to snap his fingers and everyone will do what he wants. It could have been that way if you weren’t such a fool. But not now. Not anymore. And I'm not the kind of fool that you are. I've found people who value me for what I am. You can't touch me now, you pathetic tramp. I've had assurances from the highest in the land and the Glasshouse will just be a stepping stone."