John Dalmas - The Yngling

"Now, listen to me; this is very important. The tribes can be your salvation instead of your ruin, if they are led against Kazi. But you'll have to keep war from starting between the Poles and the tribes-keep them from wasting one another. For the tribes do what few armies do. They fight on foot more than on horseback, and stealth and cunning are their pride.

"Once you told me that one of the Inner Circle, a Jan Reszke, was counselor to Casimir. Is he still?"

"Yes."

"Good. Tell him I'm coming north to turn the tribes eastward against Kazi. Tell him to keep Casimir from attacking them. Have him urge Casimir to send as many troops as possible against Kazi."

"Are you telling me you can get the tribes to abandon their plans and follow you against Kazi? You're only a youth, and an outcast at that."

"We have a legend in the north," Nils answered. "Once, when the tribes were younger, the Jotar made war on the Svear, and the Jotar were stronger so that it seemed they would destroy and enslave the other tribes. But then a young warrior arose among the Svear who became a raid leader and led several brilliant raids. In one they surprised and killed the chief of the Jotar and several of their clan chieftains.

"This demoralized the Jotar and heartened the Svear, so that the tide was turned. And then the young warrior disappeared, but in their successes no one missed him. For several years the Svear prevailed, burning villages and haystacks and destroying cattle, as the Jotar had before them, until it appeared it was the Jotar who would be destroyed and enslaved.

"And then a young warrior among the Jotar was made a raid leader and led a daring raid which left the chief of the Svear dead, along with several of their principal raid leaders. It was then that both tribes realized this was the same youth who had saved the Svear earlier, but until he wanted them to, they had not been able to recognize him, because he was a wizard. And he said he was not of any clan or tribe but was simply a northman.

"Then he called a council of all the warriors of the three tribes, and they came without weapons, as he told them. And in the council he put before them the bans, and after they had counciled with one another they approved them. They would still fight, for that was their nature, but they would not take each other's land. They could kill men, but not women or children. They could not burn barns or dwellings, but only longhouses. They could burn straw stacks, but not hay stacks. They could steal livestock, but they could not kill what they could not drive away. And they could kill in vengeance only for specified wrongs and within approved feuds.

"And all the clans agreed to this and praised the young warrior, and all the warriors lined up to honor him and clasp his hand. But one warrior hated him because he did not want to change, so he hid a small poisoned knife in his breeches. And when he came up to him, he struck him with it, killing him.

"Then, instead of making a burial mound, they put the body in a canoe and let it float on the river, although they didn't know why. And it floated down the river to the sea and out of sight.

"And then they realized that no one knew his name, so they called him The Yngling. I know that, in Danish, yngling means a youth, a youngling. But among the tribes it has not been so used since, for it can only be used as his name.

"Although some of the details are fanciful, the story is basically true, history as well as legend. And the tribes believe that The Yngling will come again in a time of great need. Maybe this is the time."

For several seconds Raadgiver's mind framed no response, and when it did, it was through a sense of disorientation and some unease. His skin crawled. "I will send one of the Wandering Kin to them, a Dane who has been in Jotmark. He will be able to talk to them. But will they believe?"

"Most will neither believe nor disbelieve. But that isn't important. What is important is that they will watch for me, prepared to listen. Can you give me the name of one of the kinfolk near Pest, and how I can find him?"

Nils followed Raadgiver's mind while the counselor looked into the ledger where he kept the names and whereabouts of the more settled kin, as best he knew them. His eyes stopped at a name and location for Nils to read.

"Good. Here is what I'll do before I start north. The Magyars are good fighters, well mounted. I'll send them northeast over the mountains to join the Poles and Ukrainians. Let the Poles and Ukrainians know this. And if your psi, Zoltan Kossuth, is willing and able to go with them, I'll give him this psi tuner. That will give the Magyars contact with the others. He'll get in touch with you later for the settings of any tuners you think he should contact."

I will lead the tribes against Kazi. I will send the Magyars. A weakness, a gray fear, began to settle over Raadgiver. In his long life he had heard big boasts and hollow promises, had even been privy to the minds of megalomaniacs. But those, he told himself, had not been men on whom so much depended. Yet his fear had grown from more than that, and less, grown from something inside him that he did not see, could not look at. Nils's thoughts had seemed insane, but yet they had a sense of certainty and the feel of clear and powerful sanity. And that was impossible. That was insane. The old psi's stable data were dissolving, the keystones of his personal world.

Nils helped him on both counts with a new and simple stable datum, putting it out as if the thought were Raadgiver's own, and the man took it. This is the New Man, maturing. Who knows what He can do? The weakness fell away, replaced by hope.

"Is there anything more you have to tell me?" Nils asked.

"Nothing more," Raadgiver replied.

They saluted each other and Nils replaced the tuner in the chest.

During the long, voiceless conversation Janos had begun to grow irritated, understanding only that Nils was sitting there silently ignoring him. But he had not interrupted. When it was over, Nils turned.

"Your Highness," he said, "I can do what Ahmed did. I can look into minds and speak without sound to others like me. This-" he gestured to where he had replaced the tuner-"is a means by which two like me can speak to one another with the mind, at great distances. Ahmed was not only a counselor loaned to you. He was also a spy against you, reporting everything to Kazi through this. I was using it now to speak with my teacher on the shore of the northern sea."

There was a copy of an ancient topographic map of Europe on the wall, with the modern states outlined on it. Nils walked over to it. "About here is where Kazi's army is now, with thirty thousand men," he said pointing. "The Ukrainians are far too few to hold him, even if the Poles arrive soon to help. But if you took your army over the mountains, here, your combined forces could delay and damage him until other kings can gather theirs."

Janos frowned. "But Kazi's army is more powerful than all the others put together. Otherwise, I'd never have allied myself with him."

"That's what he wanted you to believe," Nils answered. "And in open battle it would be true. But in that land you could work as small units, striking and then running to cover to strike again elsewhere."

Janos' face sharpened. "And who asked your advice?" he said coldly. "Have you forgotten that you're a foreigner of common blood?"

Nils grinned. "I'm young but not foolish, Your Highness. Yet I do indeed advise," he continued more seriously. "And deep in your mind you know my advice is good, because if you don't combine armies, Kazi will eat you up separately. But you are a king, used to listening to advice only when you've asked for it, and so my boldness offended you. Yet I'm only a foreigner, a commoner, a barbarian, and a mere youth to boot. You wouldn't have asked for my advice, so I had to give it uninvited."