"There are young heads among us who counsel bold action. They believe that time and events will supply the final proofs that we need. The majority of the Council however are not yet prepared to commit our whole people to a cause which may mean endless war. Sholomik we know of old and trust, and if the half be true that we have heard of the young man, then he is worthy indeed to sit among the Sarai. But to name him the Rahidor is a far greater matter and not a thing to be decided on men's word.
We believe Barrada’s amulet to be authentic. But possession of the amulet is not enough by itself. We need further proof. You say you have with you things which should furnish that proof, yet you have chosen not to show them to us. Let us see the Talisman and also the sword given by Barrada. If they are truly what you say, how could we not be convinced?"
"You know," the Tinker replied, "why we have not shown them. For the sword it was forbidden by Barrada himself and the Talisman is no trinket to be used to conjure up men's awe. You can rejoice that you have among you the very manifestation of God’s mercy, a thing granted to no people in the world this thousand years, but you cannot question the Talisman to resolve your doubts. Question rather your own hearts. For what have you endured so long upon the Harb? For what have you kept your faith and your knowledge alive? What is the purpose that lies in the soul of this proud people? To control the waters of the Harb a little better each year, to grow a few more crops, to raid a few more caravans? Or do you believe that all these things are in the gift of God and that your purpose is to serve Him?"
Samd d'Eher's reptilian eyes regarded the speaker coldly. "We need no lessons on service to God, Sholomik. Our whole lives are dedicated to that purpose. But we are not required to be blind and stupid in that service, and without sign or proof we are blind indeed."
The Tinker looked slowly round the circle of uncertain faces and returned to the white-bearded speaker. "Do the Sarai still believe in the Visions of Truth?"
After a moment's hesitation the woman Counsellor replied for them all. "Yes. Though it is many years since it has been used, except in the selection of the Ferezzin. Samd himself was chosen in that way."
"Then I put it to you that tonight all members of the Council should seek to be granted the wisdom of vision. You yourselves have said that this is too great a matter to rely on the word of men. Very well. Seek guidance from Him who is the fount of all Truth. And tomorrow let us all hear."
The Council agreed to this proposal with something close to relief, although Caldar had the impression that Samd was not entirely pleased by the Tinker's idea. When the meeting broke up, a considerable crowd followed them back to the Ranahil bhereth. Across the broad sprawl of the doukha news travelled much slower than in the small bhereths they had visited crossing the Harb. Yet even here rumour had hardened into definite possibilities and the locals were just waking up to the fact that the hand of God could be about to be manifested under their own eyes. A Zeddayah, carrying the very amulet of Barrada, was among them, and possibly a new Rahidor and the Talisman of Obedience itself. There was no way they were going to miss any detail of this momentous event.
With proper Sarai courtesy they kept their distance and Sha'aha and her husband took it all good-naturedly in their stride. Once in bed Caldar found it hard to get to sleep, his thoughts returning again and again to the people at the Council table, particularly to the Ferezzin, as if there was some detail he should have noticed. In the end he lay awake and watched the Tinker and Idressin sit talking far into the night, until without noticing it he dropped off. He was distinctly tired in the morning and wondered a little crossly how the Tinker was able to defy the effects of sleeplessness, to say nothing of age.
**
The sun was already warm by the time the Council reconvened and Caldar actually dozed off before the meeting started. Something at the edge of his consciousness kept telling him to wake up, but he couldn't. Instead he seemed to be reliving the intervention of Barrada in the catacombs over and over again. Suddenly he remembered Barrada’s parting words. Even in distant lands, there are those of us who will come to your aid if you call. Why not? Who else could help Rasscu here?
His hand touched the amulet and he awoke to find the attention of the whole circle upon him. He found that he knew all that had transpired while he had been asleep and what he must now do. All the other members of the Council one by one had told of their visions of Barrada returning to lead the Sarai. One of them had seen him walking across the Harb and at every step a fresh spring of water had welled up. Another had beheld him leading his people back to their legendary homeland to the east. As is the way with visions there had been absolute certainty of his identity and all had witnessed him hand some symbol of his authority to the dark stranger now before them, a sword or a robe or a ring. Only one voice had spoken differently. Samd also had had a vision of Barrada and had also seen him hand power in the shape of a shining crown to his successor: but not to the man before them, the successor wore a different face.
The Council were thrown into confusion: it was impossible for visions to show falsehood, so how could they differ in such a fundamental matter? At this point they had asked Rasscu and Caldar whether they had any experiences of their own to recount from the preceding night. It was at this point Caldar had awoken.
He looked directly into Samd's unblinking eyes and saw right into his soul. Chosen many years before as the Ferezzin, the spiritual leader of all the Sarai, for his knowledge, his piety and his zeal, he had gradually come to see himself as Barrada's successor, not as the steward of his legacy. No thought had entered his mind that a claimant to that role might ever appear in his time and he was not prepared to let his own dream be shattered.
Caldar was startled to catch a glimpse deep within the aged Ferezzin of a dark recess where the same power which infused the Black Stone was at work, magnifying his self-image. He felt an instant of hatred, as if coming across a scorpion lodged in a human heart, then it was past and his blood began to tingle as a new presence formed in his consciousness. Barrada had come.
"Samd d'Eher." The vast whisper that issued from Caldar's mouth was familiar to him, but as it reached out to the furthest fringes of the audience, it froze them all into complete immobility. "You say that without sign or proof you are blind. Is it truly the wish of your heart that the Rahidor show you a sign?"
Samd was afraid. Something was happening here that was outside his experience. The words came from the bodrak youth, but the great voice vibrated in his very bones. Then his resolve stiffened. He had received the respect and even reverence of his fellow men for too long for his inner vision to remain unclouded and the fetters he had fashioned for himself for the last thirty years gave him no choice. He would fight this trickery and emerge triumphant.
"It is my wish," he said in his hard clear tone.
"So be it," Barrada's great voice sounded through every fibre of Caldar's body. "Reveal the sword."
Ten thousand necks craned forward for a better view, as Rasscu stood up and drew the sword from its scabbard without hesitation. He also recognised the voice. Even in the full light of day, the sword shone with a fierce blue flame that made the nearest Council members flinch back involuntarily.
"This sword I, Barrada, forged out of evil to be a force for truth in the hand of my successor. Any other who grasps that hilt shall be consumed."
At the name Barrada a collective murmur swelled through the crowd and died away.
"Samd d'Eher." Samd's unwinking gaze was fixed on Caldar. "Blind you were before by your own admission. Blind you shall be, until the mirror of your heart be cleansed and reflects once more the true light."
For the first time Caldar saw Samd blink. Then again and again. His head turned jerkily to left and right, then with a low keening sound he put his hands to his eyes and bent forward trembling.
"Let the sword be sheathed," the huge whisper resumed. "It shall not be drawn again until the Rahidor leads the people into battle. Be swift and without fear,
my children. Darkness overwhelms the world. Let the Sarai be the first to restore the light and prepare for the Kingdom of Peace."
A long silence ensued, broken only by the pitiful sounds of Samd's grief. Eventually it was the Tinker who spoke.
"Barrada’s gone. Remakkib, why don't you reconvene the Council later today and make a formal recognition of the Rahidor in front of all the people?"
Even Remakkib was too shaken to do other than agree at this moment and the Council duly dispersed. About half of the audience stayed where they were; the others streamed off to carry the news of what had happened and what was about to happen.
Lunch at Sha'aha's bhereth was a curiously quiet affair. Remakkib was clearly overawed by Barrada's intervention and the others did not for some reason feel like engaging in their usual light-hearted conversation.
Several hours later the Council reassembled without Samd, Remakkib having been elected to take his place. The crowd now spread far beyond the meeting ground, people wishing merely to be present, though they could neither see nor hear the proceedings. The noisy hubbub subsided swiftly as Remakkib stood up. He spoke loud and clear, his words addressed to the Council, but intended for the audience to hear.
"Is it the wish of this Council that this man, Rasscu the Tesserit, be acknowledged as Rahidor?"
Each member of the circle stood up to answer in clear view of the people and this time there was no dissent. Remakkib turned to face the centre of the small amphitheatre.
"God has been merciful to his people and rewarded their faithfulness. The Talisman of Obedience has returned among us and a new Rahidor Perehm has come. Rejoice, people of the Harb, rejoice. This is the day which our forefathers prophesied and long awaited and which the generations of our children will hear of with wonder. This day has Barrada himself spoken to us and I repeat his words. 'Darkness overwhelms the world. Let the Sarai be the first to restore the light.'"
A tremendous roar greeted his last words. Before the crowd could go beyond control, he raised his hands for silence. "On the seventh day from today we will make festival in this doukha for the Rahidor. For now, return to your bhereths and carry the news to all your families and let your hearts, more than your tongues, be the messengers."
Slowly, almost reluctantly, the excited crowd dispersed, while Remakkib and the visitors withdrew to the Ranahil bhereth.
The evening was still light after they had eaten, so Sha'aha's husband showed Rasscu around the Ranahil fields while the three youngsters set off for a stroll, leaving Idressin and the Tinker seated on a low wall behind the bhereth.
“You will have to leave us now.” It was the tutor who broke the long silence.
“Yes. You felt it too?”
“Ah, Piro.” There was an extraordinary depth of grief in those two words. “Is this how it is? No chance to say goodbye?”
The old man’s eyes were warm as he looked at his pupil. “Be glad for him: Piro has waited a long time for this. And if things go right, you’ll see him again. As for me, I’ll be back soon enough. You’ll need me. Even when Pepper comes back to help you, shielding this group will be nigh impossible.”
He squinted at the horizon where the sun was slipping quietly over the rim of the world.
“Such enemies!” The words reminded Idressin of master Dzar, but the chuckle which followed was pure Tinker, at once joyous and rueful. “And a catastrophe waiting to happen right at the heart of the group too. It would have been kinder if fate had spared them that extra grief. Tariska will need watching if you don’t take her with you, and if you do….. Ah well, you don’t need me to tell you. They’re your choices now. I’m leaving the whole mess in your capable hands.”
He turned, sensing the tutor’s turmoil. “Courage. We are the dice rattling in the cup of God, as the Sarai’s beloved Book says. There’s still time for him to throw some sixes. We’re…”
He stopped as someone hailed the bhereth from the other side and they heard Sha’aha’s soft voice reply.
“Remakkib” the Tinker said, rising and stretching. “Come to steal the few assets we have, unless I’m much mistaken. Let’s go and show him we old folk know how to bargain.”
Meanwhile the young trio had not been able to walk far, hailed as they were and pressed to stay at every bhereth they passed. They had picked up enough Sarai to respond to the frequent greetings, but contented themselves with smiling and shaking their heads in refusal of the warm offers of food and drink. They were trying to commit to memory all they could of this place, sensing that they would be leaving before long.
Fields of white headed rissta plants, whose thick clusters of tiny seeds were turned into flour, alternated with groves of fruit trees and stands of unidentifiable bushes. No fertile space was untended and the outcroppings of grey limestone were the only islands in a sea of vegetation. The children, as before, took an unabashed interest in the visitors, the only Bodraks most of them had ever seen, and by the time they returned they had acquired a large following.
They found the Tinker, Idressin and Remakkib deep in conversation. Remakkib took one amused glance at the throng of inquisitive young faces and switched into Shattun in mid-speech. "It should stay here. I never thought that was in question. If Caldar, as the Zeddayah who is bearing it, is leaving the Harb, then from what you tell me, he will be going into danger. Why risk the amulet? It is powerful in its own right. That we have seen. Yet it is more powerful still among the Sarai as a symbol. You said that we must bear the brunt of the fight. Where in the whole world would Barrada's amulet do more good than here?"
"Caldar's need of it is greater than yours, Remakkib," the Tinker replied gravely.
"Greater than the Rahidor's?"
"Yes, greater than that too."
"I do not understand you. In one breath you say that we are the fulcrum of this struggle which will change the world. In the next you would remove the most potent weapon we possess. I say, if Caldar cannot indeed be parted from it for some extraordinary reason, let him stay also."
"That cannot be," the old man said, looking the Sarab straight in the eye. He lifted a hand to cut off the young warrior's heated reply, and went on, "You have no need of the amulet. You have the Talisman of Obedience. You have a living Rahidor. For Rasscu the fight itself is necessary to bring him to the fullness of his powers and from now on Barrada's help, even if he were to give it, would do more harm than good."
Remakkib held the Tinker's eye for a long moment, then looked down and shook his head. "How am I to explain to the Council, to the young men who must fight, to all the people, that this most precious of relics is be lost to us again within days? I hear what you say, Sholomik. But it will be a truly hard message to bear to all those who are just rejoicing at the amulet's presence."
"Tell them that the amulet has fulfilled its function here. Barrada has aided us in bringing the Rahidor and the Talisman to the Harb. Now it’s needed elsewhere. The Sarai have the honour of being the first people of this age to be involved with the return of the Talisman. Without you nothing can begin to happen. But don’t make the mistake of thinking that yours will be the only struggle."
"Then you take the amulet, Sholomik, to whomsoever needs it next, and at least let Caldar stay here. The presence of a Zeddayah is of itself a wondrous thing and would be a great comfort to us in troubled times."
The Tinker smiled. "You never give up, do you? Perhaps I should have put it more simply from the start. Caldar is needed elsewhere and the amulet's rightful place is with him."
"The rightful place for Barrada's amulet is with his successor," the Sarab grumbled. "What cause in the world could be greater than the Rahidor's?"
The Tinker made no reply. The question hung in the lengthening silence, until at last Remakkib got up in frustration and turned to walk away, only to come face to face with Rasscu, who misinterpreted the look on his face.
"What is it?" The swift question was directed as much at the others as at Remakkib. “Something’s wrong, I can feel it.
"
"It's alright, Rass." It was Idressin who replied. "Remakkib just lost an argument, nothing serious. You know, you should relax and make the most of this little time of peace: I think you'll be busy soon enough. Face it, the Empire’s not about to forget what happened in Karkor, no matter who’s in charge there now. A band of rebels walked out of a perfect trap and then their vaunted army got a bloody nose from a few despised 'Crows'. On top of that we’re being blamed for Habbakal’s death. They’re going to be out for revenge, and that’s just the army. The Prentex isn’t going to give up on the Talisman either: I’ve a feeling you’ll be seeing that priest again.”
"He’s already here." Rasscu spoke quietly, yet it was as if he had shouted, so instant was the hush which followed his words.
Caldar began to look around before he caught himself and asked urgently, "Here? What do you mean?"
"On the Harb," the Tesserit replied grimly. "I can't tell you where. I've had an uneasy feeling all evening, and when you mentioned the Prentex, it crystallised at once. I'm certain it's him and he's not alone."
The Sarab leader was staring at him, wonder and doubt warring in his expression. Eventually he turned to the Tinker and asked hoarsely, "Is it possible?"
"That the Prentex is on the Harb? Yes. He's moved fast, but I'd say it's quite possible. Or are you asking whether I think Rass can really sense his presence at a distance? The answer to that is I didn't know he could do it, but I believe him."
He looked over at Rasscu. "It's come quicker than I expected. It's as well the Council declared you to the people today. It seems that your battle starts at once. And the sooner I take these youngsters away from here the better. In fact I'd already decided." He turned to the young trio. "We leave first thing in the morning."
"Another important date that we mustn't miss?" Berin queried with a sigh.
The Tears of Sisme Page 84
