The Tears of Sisme Read online

  It was nice to lie listening to the rain, but five minutes later he was bored. Then incidents from the day before began to crowd back into his mind and excitement made him leap out of the bunk and dress quickly. A quick tickle of Berin's feet only elicited a twitch and a grunt: pulling off the blankets raised a howl of protest and horrible threats. Leaving his friend sitting up in the ruins of his bed, Caldar stepped outside. The rain had stopped and the air was damp and warm. The low mist hanging among the trees laid a hush over everything, but through it Caldar could hear the familiar sounds of farm life: a door squeaked and banged shut nearby, cattle stamped and lowed in an invisible pen, and from a distance came the regular thud of someone cutting wood.

  Berin joined him quietly and they set off together towards the main farm buildings. There was no one in the kitchen, so they helped themselves to bread, honey and milk, before wandering off outside again. Berin was heading for the cattle sheds to find Ham, when Caldar stopped him.

  “Come on, Berin, don’t go looking for work. They let us lie in, didn’t they?”

  For Berin work made up the natural day. But he had heard Caldar on this subject often enough before, so he was not surprised at the fluent persuasion which followed. Before long he found himself agreeing, as usual.

  They took a muddy lane which led them steadily along between dripping hedges full of the rustle and chirp of birds, even on this dismal day. Voices and unidentifiable noises of people working drifted faintly on the mist. The lane went straight ahead for a few miles, before curling around the left side of a wood. At this point a path branched off, rising sharply to the right through the trees.

  Unable to resist the invitation, Caldar led off briskly up the hill. The trees soon gave way to bare grass cut cleanly by the stony track, which went straight on, up and across the steep slope, until something began to loom through the mist ahead. The dark shape resolved itself into a series of abrupt grassy mounds covered with a haphazard pattern of low walls and scattered blocks of stone. They followed the track through a gap and immediately the world went quiet around them. The small sounds of animals and men and birds in the mist below disappeared. Even their own footfalls made no noise. As they came to a huge arch among the ruins the boys stopped and looked at each other.

  "Spooky, isn't it?" Berin said in a hushed voice.

  Caldar did not reply. He gazed round at the steep slopes and the shattered walls. Just grass and stone, but it was strange, as if things were crowding in at the edge of his vision, things he could not quite see. Beyond the arch a path wound on up through the giant blocks and he thought he could glimpse dark walls above towering ominously up into the mist.

  Something up there was pulling him on, but there was no sound on the hill, not even a whisper of wind, and he could sense danger, sharp and strong. He did not have the courage to step through that arch. Not today. He hesitated, then turned and started walking down the hill, followed a moment later by Berin.

  They strolled back along the lane talking, their spirits lifting with the growing brightness of the day. By the time they reached the farm, it was past noon and the farm hands had all had their midday meal and gone. The kitchen was full of women, even busier than the night before, dominated by the imperious figure of Matti. She was baking, up to her elbows in flour, appearing to give no attention to what she was doing, as she gave orders to all around her and strode across from time to time to different groups to comment on their efforts. Pies were being filled, cakes decorated, delicious-smelling stews being cooked, vegetables of every shape and colour prepared. Caldar had never seen such mountains of food, not even when family and friends all came to Taccen's for the Winterturn celebrations, and they stopped in the doorway, gazing in fascination.

  There was a sudden commotion down by the huge range, where someone seemed to have scalded herself, and as Matti sailed over to deal with it, Caldar scooped up a couple of pies and pulled Berin out into the yard.

  "Ah, that’s good," Caldar mumbled through his first mouthful as they leaned against the sunlit wall at the back of one of Kirpar’s huge barns. Berin, who would not have pinched the pies himself, could only agree.

  Caldar made a quick survey to make sure they did not head into a working party, then led the way along a track that meandered across the flats by the river, crossing a series of bridges over the deep-cut water channels bounding each field. But there was nothing much to see and they were getting bored, when they came on a fisherman down by one of the channels and sat on the bank to watch.

  The water was slack and the slight figure below them moved the long rod from time to time a few feet to one side or the other, with the same lack of success. But the boys were strangely content. The hazy sunshine was warm, they were safe here from any suggestion of work, and it was just possible that the fisherman might in the end catch something.

  Eventually the figure raised the rod, turned to move on, then froze at the sight of the two observers. A pair of very direct grey eyes looked at them coolly from a small face, tucked under a large cap. Caldar quickly revised his first impression that this was a child, alarmed at the sudden appearance of two strangers. There was no fear in the steady look, more annoyance if anything, and he bridled slightly at the implication.

  "Hello," Berin began, "we were watching you fishing. You don't seem to be having much luck."

  "The fish don't come when there's a crowd about," was the abrupt reply. Caldar made a show of looking round for the crowd. "You going somewhere or do I have to move on?" the low voice continued in no friendly manner. Caldar was becoming irritated, but before he could think up some cutting reply, the stranger's look suddenly changed to one of interest. "Hey, you two came in with Hamdrim last night, didn't you? Going up to the Rails? Have you been before?"

  When Berin confirmed that he had, he was faced with an eager rush of questions which broke the ice and the three of them settled down together at the top of the sunny bank. Caldar was sure his friend was exaggerating things to impress this young stranger, who turned out to have an engaging smile alongside a quick wit and a ready tongue. After a while he also noticed that they were answering a lot of questions about the Rimber valley and their own lives, but they still knew nothing about their new companion, not even his name. He was about to start asking questions of his own, when the stranger stood up and looked intently across the next field. "Let's get a lift back to the farm. There's a boat coming down the next cut."

  The boys just caught a flicker of something at the far edge of the field before the fisherman grabbed his rod and led off at a run, angling across the grassy field to intercept the invisible boat. They all reached the top of the bank together, panting and looking down on a narrow barge twenty feet long loaded with bulging sacks.

  The man in the stern, handling the long barge-pole with unhurried skill, looked up at them without surprise and simply nodded when their companion called out "Can we have a ride, Lantas?"

  They followed the fisherman as he ran down the bank and hopped over into the bows. It was clear that Lantas had heard of the boys' arrival too. He cut short their thanks, interrupting cheerfully, "You chose a good time to come visiting, lads. The feast tonight's going to be a real 'druffka'." Neither of them knew what a 'druffka' was, but they understood the tone. "These spuds here are going to the store to replace what'll get eat tonight."

  One meal? Caldar turned his head to look at the huge load with amazement. Moments later the cut opened into the main river. With a final thrust Lantas sent them out clear of the bank, before the slow current caught them and the bow swung downstream. He used a simple oar over the stern to guide them round two long slow bends and then to angle towards the bank again and into the mouth of another side channel where he resumed his rhythmic poling.

  They met a barge coming the other way, the vessels gliding past each other with only inches to spare. "Good day Lantas. Good day Tikka", the oncoming boatman called. 'Ah' thought Caldar, 'at least our fisherman has a name. Not much of one. Sort of thing yo
u'd call a cat.' In fact Caldar was itching with curiosity about their small companion and was a little dismayed to see him leave with a wave and a smile as soon as they reached the farm landing stage.

  The boys stayed to unload the awkward bulging sacks, the hard labour restoring a little virtue to their idle day. At last it was done and they watched the boatman pole away before wandering up to the bunkhouse.

  Hamdrim was amongst the last to come in from work, quickly stripping off his shirt for a wash. Still dripping he wandered over and said, "Didn’t see you two around today.” He gave Caldar a keen look. “Well, no harm done. All cleaned up? You've got to look your best tonight. Kirpar's daughter is having her Minzin Dahka and there'll be folk from miles around." Then he added, as he turned away, "Oh, and I've found out about your Sarpil. I'll tell you later." And they got no more from him.

  A little while later they followed Hamdrim and the other men as they drifted across to an arched gateway in one side of the yard. They were enchanted to find themselves in a lovely spacious garden, bounded on one side by the high wall they had just come through and on two other sides by Kirpar's house. The fourth side was open to a large pool and then the fields. Clematis and pink Sparkfall cascaded from the house balconies down to the edge of a soft green lawn starred with daisies, in the midst of which bubbled a small fountain.

  Tables and benches were set in a sweeping horseshoe around the fountain. There were tables on the balconies also and they could see even more inside the large open doors of the house, where candles were already being lit as the evening drew in. People were standing around talking or sitting down wherever they pleased, so the three visitors found places on a bench near the still surface of the pool.

  The garden was soon full to overflowing as guests from neighbouring farms and family friends from all round Easterleng crowded in to join the chattering throng. After what seemed to the boys a long time, a white-haired man came out onto one of the balconies and called for attention. "Kirpar's father", Hamdrim told them, as they waited for the noise to die down. Then with a smile, the old man announced "Please be seated, my friends. My granddaughter's Minzin Dahka is about to begin."

  Amid much laughter and a bit of squeezing, everyone found a seat and then waited. All the candles were extinguished. Caldar had been to several Dahka's before and was beginning to wonder where the food and drink were. Most were simply the occasion for a bigger and gayer party than usual, but it seemed that this one was to be more formal as well as grander. A five-stringed zummum started to play softly on one of the balconies and moments later a woman's thrilling voice began the Song of Welcome. The boys had heard it before, but never like this. It was too dark now to see the singer, but the sound touched their nerve ends like a kiss and raised the hair on the back of their necks. Husky and low, then soaring up and up to pure high notes which died away to a tiny breath of sound and then silence. The refrain was sung the customary three times in words that seemed familiar, yet subtly changed, and then voice and strings died away to utter quiet. All sat bewitched, until a single lighted candle was carried out to the centre table, and Kirpar's voice said the traditional words.

  "You are born body of my body, mind of my mind, heart of my heart. May this candle signify the birth of the light and the life within you. Freedom I give you. May you find the freedom of earth and of the stars."

  Caldar had been in a waking dream ever since the singer's voice had touched him across the darkened garden. Suddenly he was hearing Kirpar's words with terrible clarity - "body of my body" - he was nobody's son. "Heart of my heart"- he had no real father or mother to say these things to him, ever. He was transfixed, as the words fell on him like hammers. Enclosed in a fierce sorrow he had not felt for many years, he watched remotely as Kirpar handed the candle to a pale shadow before him. The small figure turned and raised the candle. A high clear voice made the response.

  "For my being I give thanks to you. With my being I will honour you. With my freedom I will serve you."

  A moment later the spell was broken. More and more candles were lit all around the garden, and people crowded up to congratulate daughter and father alike. The food was also being brought out and the resulting confusion looked as though it would make the servers' job impossible. But the sight and the smell of what was landing on the tables in front of their vacant seats proved irresistible, and before long everyone hurried back to their places.

  Half-shells of Madra scooped out and filled with all kinds of fruit, delicious thick Piterrum leaves wrapped round delicate Easterleng eels, pies of every size and filling from rabbit to Fressnor flowers, mushrooms in cream and fungi the boys had never seen before - but which tasted wonderful - and then sweet pancakes, cakes, pastries: it seemed it would never end. Eventually they were all so full that not even the greediest head was raised in anticipation as the servers came in, and it was time for talking to one's neighbours over another glass of wine.

  Kirpar and his daughter had been going round the tables in the latter part of the feast, greeting their guests. They came last to the end table, where Caldar had just asked Hamdrim why the girl's mother was not taking the usual role in the feast. Hamdrim got out a quick "She's dead", signalled the oblivious Caldar to be quiet, and stood up to greet their smiling host.

  "Well Ham, what do you think of Tariska's Dakha, eh?"

  "I think some of the boats may sink going home tonight. Matti's excelled herself this time."

  Berin and Caldar stood up and turned with Hamdrim. Both were now looking with consternation at the pair in front of them. For Caldar the voice and the half-lit face of their host had just snapped into focus in his mind. He glanced at Berin and saw that his friend was staring at Kirpar's daughter with a very strange look on his face, a smile struggling with disbelief. As he followed his friend's gaze, he heard Hamdrim say; "Woman of the world now, eh, Tikka? What are you going to do with all that freedom?"

  The fisher-boy. The same grey eyes looking straight at him, but smiling now: her father's high cheekbones and strong chin softened and set in a small face: fair hair gleaming in the candlelight.

  "These two young dandies are my brother Berin and Caldar, Taccen's son." Hamdrim went on presenting each to each. "Kirpar and his grown-up daughter, Tariska."

  Berin managed to stumble through the usual greetings and thanks, but Caldar could only bob his head in silence to his hosts. It was all too much, and thoughts and emotions chased each other round dizzyingly inside. Tariska was surrounded and borne off by other guests almost at once, but Kirpar stayed, glass in hand, talking to Hamdrim. The boys sat down again and let out their news to each other in a flurry of whispers.

  "It's the boy we saw fishing."

  "Tariska's Tikka - from the potato boat."

  Both started at once, then Berin went on, "We'd never have known if they hadn't come round to our table. And we're leaving first thing in the morning." He sounded a little wistful. "She certainly looks different in a dress. You know, I bet Lantas was laughing at us too, it was obvious we didn't know who she was."

  "Berin, Berin," Caldar interrupted. He could hold back no longer. "I just found out who gave me the Sarpil." He waited a moment, as if inviting Berin to guess and savouring the knowledge that he couldn't. "It was Kirpar." Berin's astonished face was like a reward. "When I heard his voice just now, it came clear all at once. It was him I was sitting next to on the ferry. He must have been on his way home."

  "But I still don't understand. Why did he give them to you, even if he is rich enough?"

  "No idea,” Caldar replied after a moment’s thought. “You'd think he'd keep them for the feast or for Tikka, wouldn't you? What a funny name, Tikka."

  "No, it's not," said a deep voice behind them. Hamdrim had turned back and caught the last remark. "It means 'bright', and that's a very capable little lady. She's already been away at Long School in Misaloren for a couple of years and they're talking about sending her to the Law Academy in Suntoren soon. Anyway keep your opinions about names to
yourself. Kirpar's invited us in to the family gathering later on, so don't disappear or get drunk. I'll tell you when it's time."

  With that, Hamdrim strode off purposefully into the crowd. Minutes later drums and fiddles began to play, the middle lawn cleared like magic, and Hamdrim and Matti came out to the centre hand in hand. A bow to each other and they were off, Hamdrim leaping and stamping and Matti's impressive bulk spinning and bending light and graceful: faster and faster went the fiddles and drums, higher and faster the dancers leapt and spun. The last frantic drum roll was drowned in a roar of applause, as the other guests surged forward to join in the next dance. The boys were too shy at first to push in among strangers, but a few minutes later Matti's powerful hands snatched them out of their seats, and they soon lost themselves in a whirl of country reels, some of which they knew and many others during which they were hilariously muddled.

  They were at a pause, panting and laughing between dances, when Hamdrim came to fetch them. Stepping into the large quiet living room, with its delicately carved old furniture, they felt very dishevelled among the well-dressed older folk, but Kirpar's welcoming smile put them at ease. He closed the doors behind them and beckoned to them to join him by the tight-packed circle. Over the heads of the seated family they could see Tariska sitting cross-legged on the ground at the centre facing a red-headed woman in a black gown who had her eyes closed.

  "That's the Teller", Hamdrim whispered to the boys. Seeing the puzzlement on their faces he added, "She tells the future. She's from the mountains. . ."