John Dalmas - The Yngling

Imre's things still lay on a bench when Nils entered. He struck the gong softly, and very soon a girl appeared to stand silently. "Take these things away," he said. "Their owner is dead."

Apparently the girl understood Anglic because she bent and picked them up.

"Also," Nils added, "I would like the company of someone who can answer my questions."

"I will tell the steward," she said, her voice quiet and accented.

Nils went into his own chamber then. Its window faced west, and the evening sun shone in. He became aware of a sense of depression, and looked at it for a few seconds so that it went away. Drawing the heavy curtains he lay down and closed his eyes, seeming to fall asleep at once. But a part of him remained aware, and after a time he knew that someone was coming up the stairs to the terrace outside. It was a young woman, a psi, and she was coming to find him.

He swung his powerful legs over the side of the bed, got up and walked to the door. The sun had just set, but the western sky was so cloudless and free of haze that it showed little color other than silver blue. The girl was just outside, and stopped, facing him as his big torso blocked the way.

"You were resting; perhaps I came too soon." She phrased her thoughts in Anglic, not speaking. "I am Nephthys. My father directed me to come to you and answer your questions if I am able."

She was awesomely beautiful.

His answer was also unvoiced. "I was waiting, not resting." He stepped back into the room.

She followed, and sat gracefully on a couch. Nils had hardly needed the brief mental identification of "father" she had given him. Her color, psi, and fine-boned face indicated that she was Kazi's daughter.

Nephthys could not read Nils's interpretation, but her knowingness anticipated it. "In a sense he is not my father," her thoughts continued. "The body he wears now is that of a half-brother. But at one time he wore the body of my father-his is the mind, the ego-essence, the continuity of experience, memory and identity, that was, is, my father. It is as father that I think of him. Do you understand?"

"I'm beginning to. He does age, then, but before he becomes old, he somehow occupies a new body without… without dying, without forgetting. And he fathers a series of bodies to equip himself properly, the way the lords of the Danes and the Magyars breed special lines of horses in order to have good mounts."

She nodded. "He has two harems, small but highly select. One is of beauties, for pleasure; my mother was one of these. The other is to provide young men from which he can select a physical successor."

"And does he change bodies for special purposes, as a knight may use one horse to travel on, another for hunting and a third for battle?"

"No," she answered, half-smiling at the analogy. "The transfer is difficult, requiring days of preparation, and the drugs for both bodies are unpleasant. His emotions at such a time, and those of the other, are of men fighting with death."

Nils moved to another subject. "And I suppose he plans to march north with his armies very soon."

"How did you know?"

"He concentrated this army of horse barbarians for a reason. And he won't keep them here long because of the problems of feeding them and keeping them from fighting each other out of idleness and boredom. And he already rules these plains and all the lands to the south, while in the west the mountain tribes of the South Slavs give him tribute and slaves. And up the Duna are the Magyars, whose king has agreed to strike north and west with his army at your father's command, into the lands of the Germans and Bohemians. I learned that from the mind of the Magyar king himself. But north of here are the lands of the Ukrainians and Poles, still independent, with rich pastures and farms and large herds of cattle and horses. And a good route to western Europe; there aren't any mountains to cross. But I have only a vague idea of how many men Kazi has."

"I've heard him say he has ten thousand orcs ready to march. That doesn't include garrisons that must be left behind to control the empire. And those ten thousand are equal to twice that number of any other soldiers, in fighting effectiveness. Beyond that he has gathered twenty thousand horse barbarians. Their loyalties are to their chiefs, but he has made those chieftains his."

She stopped then, looking at and into Nils. "This place is deadly for you," she said. "Why did you come here?"

He looked intently back at her, and even her dark skin flushed, because his thoughts were clearly on her and she could not read them.

"Let me ask instead why you came here," Nils countered. "Why did your father send you instead of one of his officers who could answer questions that you can't."

"You know already."

"Only by inference, and not deeply."

"His girl children, if they are beautiful enough, he trains as prizes or gifts or bribes for chiefs and kings. And when they have accepted one of us, they are caught. For there are no others like us, and we are psis. We are trained not only to please them but to influence and control them. But although you are a man, you are a different sort of man, and not predictable. The reason I was chosen instead of another is that I am receptive at this time. Father believes he may have to kill you and that it would be a shame if you died without issue, your genes lost." She looked at Nils without embarrassment. "But as you can see, the thought is not unpleasant to me. I have never known anyone like you. You intrigue me. And my father is right; if you must die, your genes should not be lost."

Nils's mind spoke again to the girl, but his thoughts were framed primarily for her father, whom he knew must be monitoring them. "Kazi senses an attribute in me that he doesn't understand, and he wants it. If not from me, then from my offspring. Despite his own experience he thinks it is heritable. And I'd give it to him if I could, for it would change him." Nils sat with his mind still for a few moments, then thought again. "Your father has more on earth than any other man, but he finds little pleasure in it. And although he may conquer Europe, he won't rule it long, because he is getting ready to die."

In his chamber, Kazi stared unseeingly out at Mars, the evening star, above the horizon. The thoughts he had just overhead were clear enough in his mind, but it refused to analyze them.

In the early morning sunlight the steward discreetly rang his little bell on the terrace, but Nephthys had already left. Nils looked out the door instead of calling him in. "What do you want?" Nils asked.

"I have been sent to waken you so that you may eat before you go to meet His Holiness."

Nils grinned at him. "I'm awake. Where is the food?"

Calmly, without speaking, the steward turned and left. This morning Nils's bath was cool instead of hot. When he had dressed, the quiet girl who had served him the day before brought a tray of soft-boiled eggs, sweetened porridge, berries and milk. He had hardly finished when he heard the steward's little bell again.

As they walked along the terrace and down the stairs, Nils looked out across the city. There were many orcs on foot in the street, while among the distant tent camps outside the city rose the dust clouds of thousands of mounted men. Movement was in the direction of a large stone structure, of a type unfamiliar to Nils, in an open space at the end of the city's widest street.

Just outside the courtyard a large bronze chariot waited, ornamented with gold and harnessed to four magnificent black horses. In front and behind were elite guards on comparable animals. Nils was directed to sit in the carriage, and after a few minutes Kazi appeared with his two personal guards. He was naked as before, except for jewelled harness and an immense sword and dagger, and rode standing, grim-faced and cold, a huge obscene satyr figure preceded and followed by a roar of orc voices in the street and a great surge of emotion that Nils read as an overwhelming broth of fear, adoration and hopelessness.