John Dalmas - The Yngling

"That's right, m'Lord."

"Come in then. I thought it was you. None of these people around here have the manners to knock."

Bela glanced around the apartment and his lips pursed in a silent whistle. "M'Lord, we're to leave at once, and I wanted to see you before we went. His Highness will ask me if you were properly received, and I wanted to see for myself."

"Why do you have to leave so soon?" Imre asked.

"They've fed us and have horses saddled and waiting-beautiful horses, too, they are. People who breed horseflesh like that can't be all bad. Anyway, they say there aren't enough of us to ride back safely after we leave their borders, because of bandits and other swine. But they have a small caravan bound for somewhere near home, and they've held it for us. They want it to leave right away."

"Well, I guess that's reason enough," Imre said reluctantly. "But I'll miss hearing my own language and seeing good, honest Magyar people. Compared to these people, Nils will seem like a native Magyar. And unless I talk to myself, his is likely to be the only Magyar speech I'll hear." He grinned. "If the next time you see me I speak our language with a sing-song, blame it on our little friend. Meanwhile, tell His Highness that we've been hospitably received and beautifully housed, and I expect that when they've adjusted to our differences in custom, we'll be quite happy."

They walked out together and Bela shook their hands and left.

When Imre and Nils had finished a light meal of sweetened fruit and cream, the steward returned, announcing himself this time with a small bell. Not only his black eyes and bland face were unreadable; the man covered his mind with a wash of no-thought. The household staff here might need to develop that for survival, Nils realized.

"If your Lordship is ready," the steward said, bowing again to Imre, "His Holiness will see you now."

The throne room was in the tower, and even its inner walls were obsidian, but it was well lighted by large windows. The ceiling was no more than four meters high, and its length and width about six meters, to enhance the size of its master. The throne was upholstered and the floor carpeted with rich furs. There were four men there. One was a chamberlain-a thin, pale, expressionless man wearing a toga. Two were tall muscular black men wearing loincloths and holding broad curved swords; one stood on each side of the throne room.

The fourth man was Kazi.

The steward dropped to his knees outside the door and crawled two meters inside, moving his forehead along the floor. Nils had never read such genuine unalloyed fear before. "They are here, Your Highness," he announced in his falsetto, and then crawled out backward, his eyes still directed at the floor.

Outside the door, Imre looked nervously at Nils, uncertain what to do next. Nils stepped forward, entered upright, and bowed, then stood aside as if ushering Imre in. Imre braced himself, set his face, and followed.

Kazi arose. He was easily the largest man either of them had ever seen, something more than two meters tall, and utterly naked. He was neatly jointed but hugely muscled, and grossly, almost unfeasibly, male. His skin was dark-not brown but almost gun-metal blue, like some of the natives of southern India. The lean, aquiline face was a caricature of evil, and a slight, mocking smile showed perfectly white teeth. He appeared to be about thirty years old.

The air was heavy with the power he exuded.

He gestured toward two low cushions on opposite sides of the chamber, each in front of a guard, and remained standing until his visitors were seated. Then he lowered himself to the throne and rested his eyes on Nils.

"I have awaited you with interest."

The Anglic words came from the lips of the chamberlain, but the chamberlain's mind was completely blank, and there was no doubt that the words were from the mind of Kazi.

Nils nodded.

"And you planned that I should have you brought here. Did it occur to you that that would be very dangerous?"

Not a muscle moved in Nils's relaxed face.

"Unless, of course, you came here to take service with me?" Ahmed was right, Kazi thought. He does not screen; his consciousness simply does not talk to itself. I have never seen this before, except in idiots.

"You wouldn't have me in your service," Nils answered calmly.

"Why not?"

"Because you can't read my mind."

Kazi's flash of anger staggered his chamberlain, and even Imre, sitting ignored and bewildered, felt it strongly, blanching. Now Kazi's own lips spoke. "I can read your mind to the finest detail if I wish, if you should survive long enough."

"You're not likely to do that," Nils replied matter-of-factly. "You brought me here because you're extremely curious about me, and there is little in the world that is interesting to you anymore. And you are very old and do not age; time is not important to you. You will wait and explore me with your wits and questions rather than destroy me."

Kazi allowed his brows to raise for a moment, then turned to Imre. "Your large friend thinks I am very old. How old do you take me for?"

Imre was almost afraid to speak. "Thirty?" he replied hesitantly.

"The boy says thirty," Kazi looked at Nils with something like amusement. "Then why do you say I am very old?"

"I sense it."

"You can't see into my mind."

"No, I simply sense it. And if you are very old but look thirty, then it follows that you do not age."

Kazi gazed intently at Nils. "I could have you killed in an instant."

"I have died before."

Kazi's eyes narrowed. "I have heard of that belief. But if it is true, yet you do not remember from one life to the next, what use is it? Meanwhile, you are young and gifted with a great pulsing body that has much yet to enjoy. You do not know how much." Kazi paused, intent for some mental response that did not come, then went on. "And your mind may be one of the two most unusual minds that exist. It would be enormously interesting to see what could be made of it. You can be a ruler in this world if you wish, have and do almost anything you want."

"I have looked at the great glaciers in the valleys of the north," Nils replied. "It is said they are growing toward the sea and that they have grown before and covered the whole land with ice and then disappeared, time and again. Even you won't live until they melt one time, because you couldn't stand it that long. I have looked at the stars on a clear night. They are said to be so far away that from some of them the light I saw has been a thousand times a thousand years coming. So what is this you offer?"

Kazi stared at him for long seconds, then his mind shot out a command. One tall guard raised his sword and swung with all the strength of his powerful right arm and shoulder. Nils was lunging from his seat on the cushion, but the weapon moved too quickly. Imre's head struck the floor without rolling, the carpeting was so thick and soft. Nils felt sharp steel against his back and stared as Imre's body toppled slowly sideways, blood spurting from the neck.

"So. You are subject to emotion, after all," Kazi said pleasantly. "The difference is that there is no positive feedback. It flashed and died. Have you ever thought of yourself as… " He paused. There was no word for it which would have meaning for a barbarian, or for any man of this age. "As a computer?" he finished.

Nils sat, relaxed again, watching Kazi without answering.

"And where did you learn about ice ages and the distances between stars?"

"From a wise man."

"Of your own people?"

"No. My people have lost such knowledge. I learned it after I began my travels."

"And why do you believe such strange stories?"

"Because they are true."

"And you sense truth?" Kazi gazed thoughtfully at him for a long minute. "I will think about you for a while. Return to your apartment. And if you want anything-drinks, girls, someone to answer questions-strike the gong you find there. Tomorrow you will attend the games with me. You will find them interesting."