The Tears of Sisme

by Peter Hutchinson

  "And reverence." the tutor added.

  "Yes. That's even more difficult. Just because the Hamna happened to give me Barrada's amulet, I'm looked on as someone uniquely important. But I'm just me, the same person I always was. I'm glad I'm not being asked to carry the expectations of all these people, that's Rass's job. In fact I can't even imagine how he’s going to do that."

  "That's always the way."

  Idressin stopped, but Caldar could not help pushing for more. "What is? Always the way?"

  "The caterpillar knows nothing of the butterfly; yet when the time comes, it doesn't have to be taught how to fly.” He smiled at the youth. “Don't worry: the Sarai tend to fanaticism in most things, but not all of them will have the same attitude as the folk in these outlying communities. Once most of them find out there's a new Rahidor, they'll forget all about you. And away from the Harb no one else will treat you like this. Now," he went straight on, abruptly standing up and cutting off all further questions, "I need to be alone for a while." Without explanation he stepped away into the darkness and did not return until after dawn.

  While they waited for breakfast, it was predictably Berin who asked Idressin where he had spent the night.

  "I was saying farewell to Hennis," was the unexpected reply. "Forty days after the body dies, the spirit has the opportunity to cross an important threshhold. Hennis sacrificed more for us than you realise. It wasn't just her life. After all none of us can avoid physical death: people make a great fuss about something as natural as breathing. But her spirit wasn’t ready for death."

  Tariska gave a great sigh. "A weight lifted off my heart last night. I knew it was Hennis." She glanced across at the tutor, her eyes blurred with incipient tears. "I've never been able to ask you about it before. But did you have to tell her to go to Karkor?"

  "I didn't tell her, Tikka. She begged to go, to be part of it, not to be left behind as the outsider." Idressin's voice was soft, as he explained. "Remember she’d already been contacted by Imperial agents for information about me, so it was easy for her to arrange. For them she was the ideal witness who knew us all by sight and who appeared positively eager to testify against me. For my part I needed to find Sisme's Well and having someone inside the Palace who could help us seemed a great advantage. As it turned out, the Well was in the Palace dungeons, so I had to ask Hennis to play the hardest of parts, to betray us all, one group after another until we were all together in there."

  "And you didn't tell us, because…"

  "..you wouldn't have been able to act the part. Your shock and loathing when she identified you would have convinced anyone, wouldn't they? It was harder for Hennis that way, but safer."

  "Safer?" The girl knew Idressin wouldn't joke about this, but safer?

  "WelI, it should have been safer. She could have left Karkor, as I asked her to do after she had identified us all. At that point the authorities would have let her go. But she chose to stay and see if she could help us more. In the end it was as well for us she did. You see, I knew we’d have to meet the Talisman half way; but beyond putting ourselves in the right place at Sisme's Well, I didn't know what else would be required of us. Only when Hennis stayed and sacrificed herself for us did Master Dzar's words come back to me. 'Under the waters of Sisme' he said and I assumed that meant in the spring. But I had forgotten, the spring sprang from Sisme’s tears of remorse.”

  The tutor stopped abruptly and Tariska knew for a certainty that Rasscu's had not been the only tears shed over Hennis that day, Idressin's unseen pain carrying by far the deeper wound.

  "And now," Caldar asked quietly, "she's finally at rest?"

  "Yes, now she's reached the peace she denied to herself. For a while, anyway. You see, Caldar," he went on with a smile, "she's also venturing into unknown territory."

  "But not unknown to you." Caldar observed.

  "Yes and no."

  "What d'you mean, yes and no?" Berin queried at once.

  "You want a fuller answer, do you, Berin?" At the youth's eager nod Idressin sighed and looked up as if to summon strength from the sky above. Then he pursed his lips thoughtfully and replied in measured tones, "Well, I mean to some extent yes and to some extent no."

  The disappointment on Berin's face was so comical that the others could not help laughing.

  **

  For the next three days the Harb was harsher than ever and the bhereths small and far apart. Bone-jarring boulder fields succeeded vast plates of dangerously fissured rock and their progress was interrupted by concealed dry gullies which became deeper and more frequent by the hour. So relief was added to their amazement when they joined Piddur at the top of a low ridge of searingly hot black rock and saw the extraordinary prospect opening up before them.

  The basin below was ten miles wide at least and, like the small bhereth valleys, brimming with vegetation. To right and left the greenery faded into the distance, but it was the centre of the basin that caught their attention. Water flashed and sparkled in the sunshine, wide sheets of it spreading down the whole length of the valley and drawing them irresistibly. They had seen mirage 'lakes' many times in the past weeks, but this was unmistakably the real thing. Caldar felt that he had never understood the true relationship between man and water until he came onto the Harb. It was clear enough why the Sarai treated it with reverence, much clearer than their reasons for revering him.

  "Doukha da Hamalli," Piddur announced. After waiting a few moments for them to absorb the scene, he continued, "The waters are not always thus. It is a bountiful year, as I said. But we control them carefully and the lakes at Hamalli have dried up completely only once in living memory."

  "You must lose a lot of water to the sun," Berin remarked.

  "We do. But the lakes are for our delight, not for our needs. They represent the water that we can spare. All this," he waved a hand to encompass the whole green basin. "is fed from under the ground as with the small bhereths, but at the lakes we let the water out into the sun. They give pleasure to all the Sarai. They will journey here for many weeks to see this wonder. Not even in the higher regions of the Harb in the north west, where the rains fall, is there a sight like this. We also try to prevent the lakes from drying up for the sake of our neighbours. The river that runs out of the bottom of this valley waters the gardens of Tarkus."

  The guide was amused at their surprised reaction. "We have brought you to the most easterly of the doukhas, as we name the places where there are many bhereths together. This was the quickest way to your homes. Tarkus lies less than two days beyond the end of the valley." He used his jutting beard to point to the horizon on their right.

  "Doesn’t it bother you that Tarkus is so close?" the Tesserit asked curiously. "You’ve made sure the Harb’s so impregnable elsewhere, but this settlement’s within a few miles of a major city, where right now two sides are fighting for control and they’re both your enemies."

  "Let them fight for whatever imaginary power they wish," the Sarab replied contemptuously. "Without the water, which we control, Tarkus will die."

  Dismissing the subject, he waved his hand wide to the west and north. "Remakkib and Sholomik have been summoning the tribal leaders from other parts of the Harb, while we have been idling on our journey. They want to be sure that the full Council are here for the meeting. That old man!" He shook his head in wonder. "When the renkai were hastening to Karkor, they say he walked forty miles a day with them over the Harb and would only stop because Remakkib pointed out that an army of cripples might fare badly even against the Imperial Army."

  "D'you think the Tinker and the leaders will be here by now?" Caldar asked, eyeing the broad settlement uneasily.

  "Perhaps." the Sarab replied. Then with a sideways glance at the youth and a rare show of perception, he added, "There is no need for haste. It is quiet here above the doukha. You may have less peace down there, I think."

  In the end the lure of the blue lakes proved too much for them, and the party clambered down the shor
t steep valley rim and entered the fields and orchards. Insects buzzed and clicked among the flowers on every side and birds trilled and swooped among the low trees. They frequently encountered people at work who stared with undisguised interest at the strangers. Fortunately none but the children seemed to have the time to follow them, so it was with a young entourage, motivated only by curiosity, that they reached the centre of the doukha.

  There was no town in any conventional sense. Piddur explained that the several thousand Sarai who lived here were scattered in family groups up and down the valley. Hamalli was the name of the tribe who first settled here; but unlike the other doukhas, which were centres for each tribe, this valley was shared by them all.

  "By now this doukha shares the blood of all the tribes. Hamalli women are considered very beautiful among the Sarai, and as the inheritance of land and water passes down through daughters, many husbands from the other tribes have settled here over the years."

  "Where are we meeting the Tinker and the others, Piddur, if there's no town in the doukha?" Berin asked.

  "There is a meeting place," their guide replied uninformatively. "But first I will ask at the bhereth a Ranahil. It is very near now. This is the family who had the honour of Sholomik's presence when he last came here. They will know if any of the Council have arrived."

  A few simple open-fronted dwellings with stone walls and crudely thatched roofs marked the Ranahil bhereth. With perpetual fine weather the locals obviously saw little point in living in enclosed spaces and the buildings seemed to be used to house harvested crops as much as people. At first they appeared deserted, but Piddur's shouts brought first a wide-eyed young child from the shadowed interior, followed by a graceful woman, moving slowly in the last stages of pregnancy. While she responded to the guide's questions, the travellers could not help noting the fine bones of her face, which lit up to an extraordinary beauty as she flashed a smile in their direction.

  "I see what Piddur meant about the Hamalli women," Rasscu murmured to his friends.

  There was no time to reply. Piddur turned back and informed them that Sholomik had not yet arrived and Sha'aha, the woman of the house, had no news of any other tribal chiefs arriving either. She would be honoured to welcome them at her bhereth for as long as they wished to stay. Meanwhile, the guide went on, seeing that it was only mid-afternoon, would they like to walk on to the nearest lake? They would. So off they wandered through this flowering paradise, followed by the most persistent of the children.

  None of them could resist swimming, after being reassured by Piddur that it would not offend any Sarai taboos about water. The children followed them in, but clearly did not know how to swim, so Berin and Caldar took it upon themselves to instruct them. Shrieks of laughter quickly drew more young participants to the scene, until the teachers found the crowd of fearless Sarai youngsters too much to handle. As soon as they could make a successful stroke or two they headed for deeper water, and the spluttering bodies dragged back into the shallows only served to add to everyone's merriment. In the end the youths had to appeal to Piddur, who sternly ordered all but two at a time of the giggling crowd out of the water.

  Tariska lay on the grassy verge with the sun baking dry the shift she had kept on out of respect for the Sarai's unknown customs. The combination of swimming and sunshine had threatened to send her to sleep, but curiosity won the day. Propping herself up on one elbow, she found the Sarab guide nearby.

  "Piddur, does Sha'aha own that bhereth then?"

  "Certainly she owns it, Tariska."

  "And all the bhereths, the whole valley, it's all owned by women?"

  "Indeed. Is that strange to you? Do women not inherit in your homeland?"

  "Well, yes, sometimes. I suppose I'll own the farm when my father dies, just because I'm his only child. Usually with us it's the eldest son who inherits most. Daughters marry and move to their husband's house."

  "That would not seem wise to us," the Sarab responded gravely. "In our experience women are much better than men at conserving and enhancing what the tribe possess. It is not fitting for men to have possessions, except their weapons."

  "And what happens if a family has no daughters?"

  "Inheritance passes to the nearest female relative, be it granddaughter, sister, aunt, cousin. A man cannot inherit."

  The girl digested this new viewpoint for a moment, then asked, "Why did you call the first bhereth, a Dedri? Dedri was the old man who greeted us, wasn't he? You said he was the head of the family."

  Piddur was silent for a moment. A quick nod of the head signalled that he had resolved his problem. "I understand," he began. "Forgive me. As a Sarab it was difficult for me to see what troubled you. Yes, Ama Dedri is the head of his family. Or it would be just as true to say, of his wife's family. The name Dedri was his wife's. His daughter owns the bhereth, now that his wife is dead. It is a natural division amongst us. In matters of our religion and of war and of practical works outside the bhereth, such as the movement of water throughout the Harb, men make the decisions. Also on all disputes that arise between bhereths and between tribes. This is why a man is called the head of his family or his tribe. Over matters inside the bhereth a man has no position except through his wife."

  "You mean she makes all the decisions and tells him what to do?" Tariska asked in amazement.

  "She has the right," the Sarab replied with a twinkle in his eye. "But just as the men who decide disputes between bhereths are aware that all the goods in question belong to women, who will end up ignoring them if their judgements are unfair, so the women of the bhereths who value the harmony of their homes run them by cooperation." He sighed. "There are indeed hard women among the Sarai, whose husbands are only too willing to volunteer for the raiding parties or for work on the Harb. There is a well-known saying among us that it is better to embrace the Spinca bush than a cruel wife."

  "I think it's only fair," the tutor's voice broke in lazily from beyond Piddur, "that you should hear the women's saying also, Tikka, that a Spinca bush is worth more than two lazy husbands." By craning her neck, the girl could see Idressin sitting in his habitual cross-legged position, looking out across the lake.

  He turned his head in her direction and went on, "The Spinca is that dead-looking thorn bush that grows on the Harb, so both sayings are meant to be insulting. There's more point to the second though, because the Spinca not only feeds the goats, it provides the Sarai with their clothes, their rugs, even those ropes we climbed up a few weeks ago. They soak the wood, then beat it down to a pulp and extract its long fibres. And they also use the leaves to make that bitter tea we've been drinking for the past month."

  "You know a lot about us for one who says he has never visited the Harb before," Piddur remarked pointedly.

  "I have many friends in Tarkus, Piddur. I also came onto the Harb six weeks ago and I have eyes and ears like anyone else. Do you want to hear more of the sayings I have picked up in the bhereths?"

  "No, I think not. I would not wish our young companion here to form a false view of our harmonious way of life."

  Tariska found herself unable to decipher the Sarab's face and tone. Was he as serious as he appeared to be or another straight-faced jester like Idressin? It was impossible to tell, so she took the safer course and turned the conversation to other things. Did the Sarai children go to school? Yes, every child had to be able to recite the Book of the Heart in its entirety: only the most apt pupils went on to learn to read and write. Did the Sarai use money? Not among themselves. Why did they raid caravans? This did not produce the same ready answer as the other questions. Piddur exchanged several sentences with the tutor and then amazingly let go a short bark of laughter.

  "A'Delzir will explain to you," he said. "For a Bodrak he understands us well."

  "Piddur finds it hard to admit that they do it for fun," the tutor said. "There are other reasons, keeping strangers away from their country, gathering information, obtaining valuables, like S’Bissi's diamonds, that
they can use for trade outside the Harb. But the truth of it is, they do it largely for entertainment. Usually no one gets hurt, unless the Imperial Army or enemies like the Borogoi are involved. And the cat-and-mouse stalking, the quick strike from the plateau rim, the withdrawal without trace, are all good practice for the young men for more serious forays like the fight at Karkor."

  While Idressin talked, Piddur reflected on his guests. Whatever happened, the Harb would never be the same again. For centuries generation had succeeded Sarai generation, each reinforcing the traditions of its forebears. Now this little party had arrived bearing the seeds of incalculable change.

  The arrival of the Rahidor - Piddur had no doubts about the authenticity of Rasscu's claim - would by itself affect the lives of everyone on the plateau and of their descendants. Though fully aware that an epic struggle was now coming, Piddur, who had a wider view of the world than most of his countrymen, was yet Sarab enough to disregard entirely the outcome of the conflict. God had placed the Talisman of Obedience in the hand of a new Rahidor for a purpose of His own: it was for the Sarai to help carry out that purpose.

  Caldar would also be an instrument of change. No Zeddayah had been seen on the Harb for over a hundred years and never one bearing such a token. For most Sarai his coming would be overshadowed by that of the Rahidor, but Piddur sensed a mystery, as if something even more profound was hidden beneath the Zeddayah's role. Once again the Sarab's unshakable faith left him content that if the mystery was going to be revealed it would be in God's good time.

  As for the others, Piddur made no attempt to judge Idressin, recognising that this man, like Sholomik, was beyond his understanding. Berin he liked and over the previous weeks he had acquired a healthy respect for his intelligence and for his loyalty to the Zeddayah; but it was the young woman whom he found more interesting. Compared to most Sarai women of the same age, she was assured and knowledgeable, and yet she seemed quite unformed. At seventeen women on the Harb often had material responsibilities as well as husbands and the pattern of their character and of their lives was already established. By contrast Tariska still seemed to be on the brink of her life, absorbing the influences all around her, but with her own direction undecided.