The Tears of Sisme

by Peter Hutchinson

  It was the priest. She was certain, the question and the disappointment were his. Then with a suddenness which stopped her breath, she broke through some kind of barrier and became fully aware of the creature walking just in front of her. It had human form, but little else she recognised. No heart that she could perceive: nothing warm inside. Worse still, nothing that felt human. The thing moved mechanically, like a puppet, controlled by a huge brain which occupied half its body. And the brain was alive: it rippled with terrifying alien power and a hundred eyes seemed to be turned in her direction.

  She snatched her attention away instantly and walked on trembling, hoping fervently that the monster had not noticed her intrusion. When the guards had shut them into their cell last night, she had not felt capable of talking about it; but now, after a few hours sleep, she wanted some answers.

  "It's a ghost." She struggled to describe to Idressin what she had seen. "No, not a ghost. It’s like something I’ve seen or dreamed about before, but I can’t remember what. There's a body, but no real person. What's inside is completely different, a demon or an insect or something."

  "You see clearly, Tikka. The Prentex - that's what he's called – is a Spinner. There are only nine of them, all in the Quezma Republic, or that’s how it’s been up till now. The fact that one of them is here in Karkor looking for the Talisman is a very nasty surprise.”

  “If it’s not a person, what is it?”

  “Oh, the Spinners were people at the start, people of considerable knowledge and power. They wanted more of both, a lot more, at any price. It took them a long time, but now they have the power they were after. They think they’re in control of it, when in fact it has already devoured much of what makes them human. You penetrated the illusion for a moment and saw the priest as he truly is, the result of untold years of self-deception.”

  “What d’you mean?” the girl asked.

  “You saw some of it in the chamber yourself. It looks as though the Spinners are feeding their power into the Ajeddak Stone. And maybe….” He hesitated, then continued, “The power they’ve developed can do many things. One of them is to hold up a magical mirror through which one can see the world. The magic is that it distorts reality. Everything appears to be related to ourselves, often in a flattering way. People, even people like the Spinners who believe they control the power, give in to it, believe in it, because it seems so pleasant, until in the end they lose touch with anything real. Every experience comes to them through the medium of the mirror. But there's a price. As that illusory image grows stronger and stronger, it’s sustained by feeding on our essential humanity, until in extreme cases like the Prentex it sucks it dry."

  "He must have been very weak and gullible to fall into that," Tariska commented with scorn.

  The tutor looked at her questioningly and all at once she remembered the picture of the new life she had been offered so recently in the temple chamber: universal praise and esteem, recognition for her talents, the end of self-doubt, what was unreasonable about being attracted to such a prospect? She caught herself just as she was drifting off into daydreams again. Even as she blushed, angry at herself for being enmeshed so easily, a lingering regret for what the Black Stone had promised was slow to die.

  "I see now," she said slowly. "That's how it works. It seems so..."

  "...reasonable and pleasant?" the tutor suggested. "Yes, that’s exactly how it works. Something you needed to experience for yourself."

  "What are you two talking about," Berin asked plaintively.

  "In the room with the Black Stone, Berin. I saw a vision of myself in there, getting all the things I'd always wanted, you know, recognition, success and so on. So subtle, I thought it was all my own idea. And talk about feeling good! Part of me still wants it back now. What about you?"

  "Nothing, really,” Berin answered slowly. “I was surprised. I could feel the Stone trying to take over my thoughts, but it wasn’t that hard to resist. I just kept myself busy thinking of ways the Stone's power could be put to good use. You know, it’s odd that so many people, even you Idressin, have such a hostile attitude towards a neutral force ...which..." Berin faltered to a stop. "It got to me too, didn't it? And I never suspected till this very moment. But it doesn't seem all that awful or dangerous, does it? I thought the Black Stone was something terrifying."

  "You've heard from Tikka what that kind of power has done to the priest and you don't find it terrifying?" the tutor asked quietly. "That loathsome 'thing' was once a human being like you or me, full of feelings and faults and ideas and love. But every time he looked in that mirror a little of his humanity was silently devoured. It's so gently persuasive and so sweet a feeling that it will have become a habit while he was thinking of it as an experiment, and then an unbreakable addiction while he still considered it a habit."

  He glanced at the strained young faces. "Don't worry, it takes a very long time and a certain kind of person to come totally under its influence. And the Prentex is not a harmless victim. There are only a handful like him in the entire world and he is, I hope, the only one of his kind in Karkor. He is one of those who made a willing bargain and gave up their humanity in return for power."

  "Tell me again that we're not going to end up like that thing," Tariska begged. "I need to hear it."

  "You're safe from that, Tikka. I kept a watch on you in the chamber and you came to no harm. Look at it this way. What happened in there is a fact, neither good nor bad. Seek to recreate those pleasant feelings and you'll begin to lose something. Recognise the illusion for what it is, even if you don't really want to, and you'll be stronger than before. What is it, Berin? Still worried?"

  Berin was frowning, deep in thought. "The priest…the Prentex.." At a nod from Idressin he continued slowly, working it out. "He was questioning Tikka about the Talisman, so like you said he probably knew about it before we came. He's been waiting for it….and for us. So there's no chance of us being the ones to find the Talisman, is there? Even if we were free, he'd have every advantage. But we're not free and the Emperor's going to execute us all. We'll be dead, Caldar and Rass are far away at sea somewhere, and the Talisman's going to fall straight into the Prentex's lap."

  "True enough, Berin, except…." The tutor narrowed his eyes and wagged his finger theatrically, miming the possessor of great secrets.

  "There are always 'excepts' with you."

  "It's not me; life's like that, full of excepts. First of all the Emperor isn't likely to execute me until he can do it properly. You see I'm a member of a very exclusive group, so he needs evidence solid enough to satisfy the Six Families, the aristocracy of the Empire, otherwise they'll cry persecution and unite against him. And far more important for us, the Prentex's concerns are completely different from Habbakal's, and he doesn't yet have the key piece of knowledge he needs. He wants the Talisman, but first of all he wants the Guardian."

  "Why?" Tariska just got the question in first.

  "He has almost no chance of finding the Talisman without the Guardian. And if he somehow did lay his hands on it, it would be very little use to him on his own; a thousand times more with the Guardian under his control."

  "That's why you never told us which of us it was." Tariska's eyes were wide. "The one secret we couldn't give away because we didn't know. You foresaw this all along…" Her voice died away in disbelief.

  Idressin shrugged. "Not foreknowledge, Tikka, just caution. Our search was bound to meet some kind of opposition. I’ll readily admit the Prentex is a nasty surprise. It turns out…."

  He was interrupted by footsteps crunching along the passage, signalling the arrival of the corporal and another guard with their breakfast and a fresh lantern. They stopped outside the grille.

  "'Ere's yer grub. Straight from the officers' kitchen. Now let's be 'avin' yer money."

  Idressin went up to the bars and handed over two gold coins.

  "'Ey, don't try cheatin' me or I'll empty the stuff straight out onto the ground."


  "I'm not a fool either, corporal. Here are the other three Imperials and I'm putting them on the ground here inside the gate. Bring the food in and pick up the money."

  The guard eyed the prisoners suspiciously, then licked his lips as he looked at the winking coins.

  "Alright. Get back from the gate. We're comin' in."

  The transaction was soon effected. The guard was whistling to himself, relocking the gate, when the tutor approached, gnawing on a chicken leg.

  "You kept your end of the bargain, my friend. This food’s excellent."

  "Told yer, from the officers' mess. 'T's easier to steal from them than from the corporals' kitchen."

  "You'd have asked for more, if I'd given you five Imperials straight away, wouldn't you?"

  "'Ere, who d'yer think yer accusin'..." The corporal paused, then grinned. "Narr. Yer right. Course I would. Takes one to know one, right? Seems all wrong lettin' that good money go to waste. Executioner gets anythin' found on the bodies as a perk, yer know. Mean old bastard never shares it."

  "Well, d'you want to earn some more?"

  "I'm not lettin' yer out. Money's no use to me if I'm dead."

  "No. I was thinking of supper. Whether we're for the chop or not, there's no point in starving. "

  "Yer a cool one, an' no mistake. Yeah, I'll get yer supper. Cost yer ten though. I'm takin' a risk nickin all this stuff. By the way, do me a favour, will yer - toss the bones an' all that out o' sight when you've finished."

  He departed with an affable nod, leaving the prisoners eating their breakfast grouped about the lantern.

  "Leave a bit for the man in the next cell," Idressin said between mouthfuls. The others peered over into the gloom in surprise as he went on, "He's very quiet, but I'd bet he's as hungry as we are."

  Karkor: The Imperial Palace

  "And the Shivshil quarter? How were you planning to restore order there, with so many troops committed elsewhere in the city?"

  Theyn answered easily: logistics were meat and drink to him. The operations for the Day of Atonement were large and complex by any scale, but he exulted in mastering the problems.

  First the Mederros. That should be all over shortly after dawn. There were three groups to mop up according to the latest information - and two of them were in very difficult terrain. To make it even more problematical Shkosta had insisted on the capture of as many prisoners as possible. He had assigned units of the Imperial Guard to this task, the only troops he felt were skilled and disciplined enough to overcome fanatical opponents without killing them all. They might sustain heavy casualties themselves in that kind of fight, but he hardly gave it a thought. He was already unpopular with the Guard, and besides he suspected that the survival of their elite status might be numbered in days.

  For the riots he had a simple formula. Use the Clandestine Affairs section of Special Forces to stir them up - they had already been busy for weeks - and Dendrian mercenaries to put them down. Unlike the Guard, the mercenaries were utterly ruthless. Obedient only to the orders of their current paymaster, they were totally indifferent to whether they were dealing with foreigners or fellow citizens, men or women, an armed mob or unarmed innocents: they would do what they were told. And by good fortune a couple of battalions were in the transit camp outside Karkor, having just been relieved from garrison duty on the dangerous Fisher frontier. Mopping up in the city would seem like a holiday by comparison.

  This afternoon he and the princess had updated the plan for the ceremony and its immediate aftermath. She had been incredibly lucky that Fordosk had been pulled in just at this moment. They'd missed him at the border, but the timing now was even better. There would be no chance for the Emperor to start a proper trial or for the Six Families to rally round in defence. It would all be over before they could react.

  The execution of Sammar and news of the Mederro raid - the raid was another gift from the gods - would have been sufficient to spark off the prepared riots anyway: they were armed rebels, invading the capital, and after all the work his own SF agents had put in, the city was a tinderbox. But Fordosk's execution for treason would be a master-stroke. Whether they even had the right man was irrelevant. He did seem too young, but they had had positive identification and his corpse could not be questioned. Link him to the rebels and suspicion would at once spread to the Six Families. How the princess would use this new factor he did not know; he left the politics to her, just as she left the logistics to him.

  Last month she had suddenly accelerated their preparations to breaking point. Apparently they had to be ready to make their decisive move on the Day of Atonement. She had not explained and he had not dared to press his questions. Since then the new deadline had set their whole agenda. The timing was tight, but the elements of the plan had been long in preparation and they could do it. It had meant pulling extra Special Forces units into the capital quicker than he had intended, but citing the additional security required for the Festival had satisfied any suspicious minds in the Defence Council.

  Now everything was in place. After the riots were put down, the populace would be eating out of the princess' hand. They would have had their bloodletting and would welcome the restoration of order by a strong figure, not the Emperor this time, but a Habbakal all the same. And Special Forces -and Theyn with them - would emerge suddenly centre stage as the force behind this new power. He almost smiled at the pleasure he would take in settling scores with the arrogant old duffers on the Defence Council. Not yet, but soon, those army generals….

  "You've covered the troop movements well, Melim. Now, tell me again, how d'you expect the Generals to react?"

  Damn the woman! She could still read his mind. "Most of them will be in the Enclave or at their homes in the city. We'll mount guard on them at once for their own safety. At most I would expect only a quarter of the senior officers to be actually in the Renglong barracks or the encampments outside the city on the Day of Atonement. And of course we'll prevent the other three quarters of them from rejoining their men."

  "And the quarter that are already with their men?"

  "Well, the barracks will be nearly empty on the day. I'm sending the Guard units out to deal with the Mederros, and they'll be told to report to the campgrounds as soon as they've handed over their prisoners. There are 30,000 troops in the camps, who'll go on alert automatically as soon as they hear the disturbances in the city. But we'll be in control of the city walls and I'll make sure that orders are sent out to them to stay in camp, orders from the highest authority."

  "You've managed to replicate the seal of the Defence Council?"

  "Yes, it's perfect. Do you want to see it?"

  "No, I trust you. So much for the first few hours. But when the operation's over and we're in control of the city, the army will still be sitting on our doorstep. What then?"

  Theyn gave her a direct look. "After? Why do you ask me, Shiko? You know, and I know, it's you that's pulling all the strings here. You don't tell me the half of your long-term plans."

  Shkosta offered him a tantalising smile. Hurt at his exclusion? Or angling for her to disclose more? Probably the latter, he was still ambitious: like many limited people, he had an exaggerated idea of his own abilities and he would not be content to remain in her shadow for ever. Unfortunately efficiency had proved to be his greatest value to her and he was unlikely to be so useful as her plans grew more complex.

  "Humour me, Melim. Treat it as a technical question, not a political one. If you were one of the generals, what would you do?"

  "Don't play the fool, Shiko, of course it's a political question. The Generals will do what they've always done, ask the Emperor for orders."

  "And if I make my declaration at once, the same day?"

  So, it had come at last. Theyn felt almost giddy. Unemotional to the point of coldness in most situations, he was stirred profoundly by power and its exercise and here he was at the edge of the precipice. The least slip and he would be lucky to be publicly garrotted. Keep his balan
ce and he would have the world at his feet. One step from the Leopard Throne. He put away the intoxicating vision and answered bluntly.

  "You would lose. You're not ready. By the end of the day you'll be popular, feared and in control of the capital. But the whole power structure of the Empire will still look to the Emperor, and if you force the issue now, most of them will side against you."

  There was a long silence, as the princess studied him: he could read nothing in her expression. She always insisted that he give her his true opinions when she asked: she had no time for courtiers. And on this occasion his own life was at stake as much as hers. He rejoiced that she was on the brink of seizing power after the years of careful preparation and that she had declared it to him. But now was not the time. She must see that.

  "And what of the other schemer in the Enclave? How will he react on the day?"

  The abrupt change of subject caught Theyn off guard and he stared at her at a complete loss for a moment. The Emperor? Or was she referring to some other plot against the throne which he knew nothing about? Ah, she meant the Prentex. Disturbingly Shkosta nodded in confirmation of his thoughts before he even spoke.

  "We've discussed this before, Shiko. His technical abilities far outweigh his influence in the Temple or the Palace. I don't see him as a major factor."

  "Then tell me what he's up to." The princess' voice had gone hard. There was something serious here, something Theyn realised he must have missed. "Why would our friend the Prentex have any interest in Fordosk? The man's my prisoner, a political pawn with no more obvious religious ambitions than I have. Even if Fordosk had been thinking to make the prophecies work for him, he can't now. And yet Chachi's on the scent of something here, something he hasn't seen fit to mention to us. For a start he sent men out into the city with that Razimir woman and he's turned up two more of Fordosk's party?"