The Tears of Sisme

by Peter Hutchinson

  "This one goes to the Stone now. Since you have chosen not to help, I will see to it myself that the Guardian is identified tonight and the gift of the Gods restored to us. I'll leave you to savour your revenge. This thing in the passage behind me betrayed you, though you won't get her to admit it now, she's past speech already. You know what's to follow, so if you want to be safe, stay away from the bars."

  What was so dangerous , Berin wondered, staring dully at the pitiful figure lying on the tunnel floor?

  Next to him Tariska watched in despair as Caldar was led away like a child in the priest's monstrous grip. As soon as they turned the corner of the passage she whirled on Idressin and screamed at him in her fear and anger. “You just let him go. With that thing. And the Stone, can’t you feel it? It’s tearing me apart here in the cell and he’s going to put Caldar right in with it. It’ll send him mad, Idressin. You can’t….”

  “He’s being shielded, Tikka, as you all are to the limits of our power.”

  She stared at him, dumbfounded. “You mean the Stone’s even worse than I can feel?”

  The tutor ignored her, walking away to stand by the grille and stare out where a faint whimpering came from the dark passage. She followed him, needing more reassurance, and was just close enough to catch the quiet words, full of indescribable sadness.

  “So it had to be you, brave heart.”

  The Imperial Palace

  The page waited dutifully at the edge of the ballroom; the message was urgent, but he would be whipped for setting foot on the central area of polished blue marble where two hundred of the Empire's most exalted personages pranced solemnly to and fro in their finery.

  Shkosta had been aware of him from the moment he passed the door, but she would finish the dance. This was no time to start any curious talk. There were too many of Habbakal's cronies in the room, and too many besides who watched her every move with eyes sharp with jealousy.

  She smiled at a whispered compliment from her partner, a young Duke from Upper Malefor, who was important enough to be worth cultivating, good-looking too, but hard work for all that. Self-importance seemed to have rendered all the nobility stupid, and transparently so, which made it worse.

  At last the dance ended and she was escorted first from the floor, as protocol demanded. Only when she was formally seated did the page approach.

  "Your Jeweller begs for a few moments of your time, Your Highness."

  "Ah yes, my tiara for tomorrow's ceremony." As she rose to her feet, everyone around her rose also. She patted her companion's arm in an intimate gesture. "I'll just be a moment, Ebbrin, and no, I don't need an escort. Goodness, I'm not even leaving the ballroom." Following the page, she glided over to the side of the vast hall and seated herself in a small mirrored alcove in full view of the other guests.

  A small curtain hid the jeweller himself, only his gloved hands visible as he placed the tiara on the princess' elaborately arranged hair. The alcove appeared to deaden sound: to their annoyance, even those at the nearest tables could not hear a word of the brief conversation.

  "We gave her Rennem," Theyn reported as he positioned the tiara. He disliked this kind of charade, but she had insisted on staying in public view. "Apparently the Prentex used her to go out and identify these people. He's bagged more of Fordosk's party, holding them in the death cells, six of them altogether now…"

  "Six?"

  Theyn was pleased: there was at least something she didn't know.

  "And still no official notification from him?" The princess was clearly puzzled.

  "Nothing."

  "He's got to tell us some time tonight and he knows how angry I'll be. Why would he risk it?"

  "Working with your father? No, we've dismissed that before. The Emperor's never disguised his contempt for the priesthood. He never talks to the Saldix, let alone to Chachi."

  There was a moment's silence. Then Shkosta said suddenly, "I've no time left for these guessing games. I know you're busy tonight too, Melim, but it's time to put a stop to this. I must stay here, so you'll have to do it. Find Chachi and take him with you to pay a visit to these prisoners of his."

  The Under-Temple

  Caldar stepped forward shakily into the dark room. The priest had said nothing on their swift walk from the cells, and yet Caldar had hardly felt the cruel grip on his arm, so strong was his mounting horror of what awaited him. He could feel it at a distance and at every step his defences began to unravel faster and faster.

  When the door shut behind him, he was immediately aware that there was something sentient in the darkness. He could feel its silent exploring of his entire self, his body, mind, emotions, habits, desires, history; there was nothing that did not feel the feathery touch of that examination. It went on for a long time, until it reached the core of Caldar's being. There it paused a moment, and vanished.

  He huddled down against the wall, weak with relief at the gentleness of this first contact, yet still wrestling with a hundred imagined fears. After a period of quiet, he felt the Stone stir and approach him again. This time it seemed to offer a bargain. It had power almost without limit, power to grant Caldar's every wish. An extraordinary panorama unfolded before him scene after scene, untold millions of toiling humans, immense chambers heaped with wealth, huge armies of invincible strength, all of them controlled by an invisible force so vast that it seemed to hold the world in the palm of its hand. Through the Stone all this would be put at his disposal, in return for the little thing he was sheltering so closely. It was not asking the youth to bring much to the bargain and in return he was being offered access to this unbelievable power.

  There were no words. The suggestions were made directly to his consciousness and they were convincing and seductive. After his initial surprise Caldar's immediate fears began to subside; he even smiled to himself in the darkness. The Stone was powerful and persuasive, but it was nothing if not obvious. He could cope with that.

  As if it was reading his thoughts, the Stone changed its approach. The bargain it had suggested previously was inappropriate. It realised that Caldar had every right to preserve his inner secrets and that they were important to him. Perhaps first it should win his trust by offering him freely the fulfilment of some wish, something which he would set real value on. Did he wish to rule the Empire? He had only to ask. Or would he prefer something of more direct benefit to others? Did he want to see all the slaves set free? Or poverty banished throughout the Empire? Anything would be possible for him through the medium of his new ally: all he had to do was to make the request.

  Still fully aware of the Stone's blatant attempts to seduce him, Caldar contemplated what it was suggesting. Liberty for all slaves? It could hardly be a trick. People were either slaves or they were not and the difference was obvious, wasn't it? Maybe, just maybe, this extraordinary power, which felt so dangerous, could be put to good use after all. It only needed someone like himself, who refused to be deceived, to be the controlling influence.

  His deliberation was suddenly interrupted when a dim light appeared in the far corner of the chamber and a band of evil-looking intruders crept in. The Black Stone snarled with rage and Caldar felt his own will gather, ready to assist in driving these looters from the shrine.

  The Dungeons

  Tariska came up behind the tutor as he stood at the bars listening to the whimpers echoing down the dark passage.

  "It's Hennis, isn't it?" she asked, her voice tremulous and close to tears. "What did he mean, Idressin? What's he done to her? I've never heard of Rennem."

  "It's a Kohali poison," Sammar answered flatly from behind her. "It destroys the brain and makes people and animals go mad before it kills them. I remember hearing about it when I was a child. In the last Quezma wars they used it to get information quickly from prisoners. Then they found another use for it and they started to give it to horses and dogs as well as the prisoners, and then take them out at night into the enemy lines. When they went crazy in their last moments, they wer
e incredibly fast and strong for a short time and they'd rush around biting and clawing anyone who came near, then everyone they wounded was affected as well. Both sides banned it in the end. It was too terrible, even for war."

  They watched in horrified anticipation as pebbles crunched suddenly underfoot and a blue robe began to detach itself from the darkness. At ten paces, the furthest reach of their feeble lantern, the tottering figure fell again, one tight-clenched hand thrust forward towards them. A moment later a violent convulsion wrenched it to its knees and it began to crawl slowly forward.

  The tutor motioned the others back, then stepped to the gate, swung it open and closed it behind him. In a few quick strides he reached the crawling figure, caught her up and carried her gently closer to the light, pushing back her hood as he did so. The red hair glowed rich and dark, and the flawless features were unmarked; but her huge golden eyes were full of such confusion and anguish, that Berin watching from inside the bars, felt a rush of indescribable hatred for those who had done this thing.

  Under Idressin's steady gaze, Hennis was making a tremendous effort to speak.

  "The key," she gasped at last, and despite straining with every muscle in her body could say no more.

  "I know," the tutor replied softly. "You have brought us the key to set us free. We thank you, Hennis. Relax now, don't fight so hard. Your work is done."

  "Idressin." Tariska called to the tutor, low and urgent. "Harol says Caldar cured someone who was dying the other day. Can't you do the same for Hennis?"

  The tutor eased the stricken woman down against the wall of the passage, then turned his head briefly to the girl. "No, it's gone too far. It's already destroyed too much of her brain and her internal organs. I can’t give her back her life; but I can give her peace."

  A tremendous spasm convulsed Hennis' body, leaving her trembling all over as Idressin reached down and took her head in both hands. Her eyes locked onto his in desperation as if she were drowning, and slowly the trembling subsided. Two great tears spilled down her cheeks, then with a great sigh she closed her eyes and her body went limp. After a few moments the tutor let go of her head, and sat down cross-legged next to the still form.

  All of them were shaken, but a few minutes motionless and silent were enough for Sammar. His amazement at Idressin's inexplicable escape from the cell quickly gave way to frustration as he watched precious time go by. He shouted at the tutor, reminding him of the men who would soon be walking into a trap, pleading for the chance to save Persa, who unlike Hennis still had a chance of life. Beyond the grille nothing moved. The tutor sat so still, he could have been a block of stone.

  Sammar subsided into muttering and fell quiet. Berin often tried to recall what happened in that silent time. There was no sound, no movement in the whole dungeon: even the lantern flame stood unflickering. Then gradually he felt the cavern open up. The same dark walls surrounded them, but at the same time the space was unconfined, limitless. And he became aware that there were other presences with Idressin: nothing he could see clearly, but there was a complete ring around Hennis' body. In the absolute stillness time blurred finer and finer into eternity, then at the last suddenly returned. Idressin stood up. Without so much as a backward glance he stepped up to the grille, opened the gate as before and this time left it open. Sammar came up to the bars at once, ready to start pleading again. Idressin spoke first.

  "Have patience, Sammar; until we are finished here, we cannot leave." Then turning to Rasscu, he added evenly, "Go and take what you find in Hennis' hand. It's for you."

  Hesitantly the Tesserit went out and approached the motionless form. Of them all only he felt no pity at her death; he was content that justice had been done, and it was almost with revulsion that he tried to prise open the tightly clenched fist. As he struggled with it, it suddenly relaxed and the fingers opened to reveal a grey pebble. Disappointed, without quite knowing what he had expected, Rasscu picked it up and took it back to show the tutor.

  "It's just a pebble she picked up in the passage. She must have thought it was the key."

  "Go back and thank her for the gift, Rass."

  The tutor's voice was light and untroubled, but it was clearly not a joke. The Tesserit glanced at him uncertainly, then shrugged and returned to the lifeless body in the tunnel. Standing over it, feeling foolish and not a little resentful, he said formally, "Thank you for the gift, Hennis." As he turned to go, he realised with a start that the tutor was standing right beside him.

  "Thank her from your heart, Rass. You see Hennis did what I asked her to do. To give up her life in Razimir, to come here and be alone in constant danger among the pitiless intrigues of Karkor. To incur the hatred of her friends for betrayal she could never have committed had I not requested it. And at the end when the wolves pulled her down, even though she realised that those friends might never know she loved them, she still made the last supreme effort. She brought us the key."

  Rasscu was stunned. One moment he was still looking down at the woman he had so recently tried to kill, the next it was as though his eyes had suddenly opened. He saw Hennis, rejected by her friends, despised openly by those who used her, utterly alone, afraid, tortured. He thought of her as she had been just minutes before, fighting pain and terrifying mental confusion in her attempt to deliver freedom to her friends. Eyes wet, he knelt down without words and kissed her brow. His vision blurred as he looked down at the pebble she had fought to bring to them with the last seconds of her life and his tears stained the plain grey surface. As he regained his feet, an exclamation made him look round to see Sammar and the others staring at him in something close to fear.

  What they were seeing was a figure glowing with intense light where a moment before the Tesserit had been standing in his grimy jerkin. It was a light without colour, yet pulsating with all colours, so bright that it was impossible to look at it directly. The same glow began to emanate from Hennis' body, shining brighter and unbearably brighter, before swiftly fading away and leaving the two figures plain as before.

  Caught in a tide of feelings that left her not knowing whether to dance or weep, Tariska stepped forward and caught the tutor fiercely by the arm, begging, "Tell us, Idressin, what's happening? Please, please, tell us."

  The tutor effortlessly opened the gate of Sammar's cell, then motioned them all to gather round. ”There's no time for explanations. Sammar has reason for haste and I have even more so. The Talisman has found its Guardian. Our work here is done. Now we must take the Talisman to safety and help those we can along the way."

  "This is the Talisman?" Rasscu's voice was a strangled mixture of disbelief and awe, as he held out the pebble in the palm of his hand. At Idressin's confirming nod, he stared at it in wonder. "What if I lose it? It's so ordinary."

  "You can't lose it now, Rass, no more than you could have found it. There's much to explain, but not right now. Take the lantern, Berin, and lead off into the back of the cavern. The air tells me one of those openings back there goes somewhere."

  "You're going to leave the gates open?" Sammar asked practically.

  "And Hennis lying there?" Tariska added. "After what she's been through for us it doesn't seem right just to walk away and leave her."

  "We've done all we can for Hennis, Tikka. She doesn't need that body any more, she's free of it now. Caldar's in with the Stone…."

  "I forgot." Tariska looked stricken. "What can we do?"

  "Find him quickly. The Stone's been gathering power for hours now. I won’t be able to hold the shield on you all much longer." Idressin's voice was bleak and very tired. "Leave the gates open, Sammar, it'll confuse them to find them open." Then looking directly at the rebel, he said, "Do you want to lose your chains?"

  The southerner attempted to speak twice before shaking his head and holding up the iron links which bound him. "Just these."

  He sounded almost ashamed. Without a word the tutor reached forward; there was a click and the whole pile of chains slid to the ground in a
rattling heap. Still shaking his head as if he could not come to terms with what he was experiencing, Sammar followed the others towards the menacing holes at the back of the dungeon.

  Idressin briefly sniffed the air in each passageway and pointed to the right. Without more ado Berin crawled cautiously in with the lantern, the rest groping blindly along behind. Even with the prospect of escape there was something so daunting in the very fabric of this hole that they crawled grimly on in silence only the occasional exclamation signalling when someone had bumped his head on the roof. To their relief the passage grew no smaller and after several minutes of crawling they were able to stand again.

  Going to the front, the tutor ignored several side-openings and as the passage began to wind and climb he even stopped bothering to sniff the air. With all the turnings, not unlike a crazy spiral staircase, the others had lost all sense of direction, but the tutor seemed more confident than ever.

  Quite suddenly they came out into a larger space, a cavern too extensive for their small lantern to do more than illuminate their end of it. They all emerged one after the other and stood uncertain, held by some indefinable dread of what was ahead of them in the darkness. The tutor took the lantern from Berin and beckoning the others to follow started forward across the rocky floor. They hurried behind, fearful of what lay in front, yet even more afraid of being left alone in the echoing dark which closed in on their heels.

  Just as something began to loom indistinctly at the limit of their vision, an icy breath played over them and the lantern was snuffed out. A soundless wave of fury tore at their nerves and rocked them back, and then Idressin stepped forward, holding up the lantern, once more aglow; by its light they saw the huge black stone confronting them across the cavern and beside it a commanding figure clothed in black. It raised one hand to them in a gesture of denial and they halted, rooted immovably in their places.