John Dalmas - The Yngling

The king stared at Nils for several seconds before a smile began to break his scowl. "You're a scoundrel, barbarian," he said, clapping the warrior's shoulder. "But allowances must be made for barbarians, at least for those who are giants and great swordsmen who can look into the minds of others and speak across half a world and heal dirty wounds in three days. You're right. We must move, for better or for worse, and if need be we'll die like men, with swords in our hands. And you will come with us, and I'll continue to listen to your unasked-for advice."

"Highness," said Nils, suddenly solemn, "with your permission I'll go instead to my own people and lead them against Kazi. They are not numerous, but they fight with a savagery and cunning that will warm your blood to see."

"All right, all right," the king said, shaking his head ruefully. "I bow to your will again. If your people are all like you, they can probably talk Kazi into surrender."

Janos sent riders ordering the nobles to gather at the palace on the sixth day, which was as soon as the more distant could possibly arrive if they left at once. The orders specified foreign danger to the realm, in order that there would be no delaying by independent lords who might otherwise be inclined to frustrate him.

After two more days spent resting and healing, Nils submitted his newly knitted thigh and hip to a saddle and rode a ferry across the Duna to the town of Buda. He didn't want to send a messenger to Zoltan Kossuth, the psi, in case the request be interpreted as an invitation to a trap.

Nils led his horse off the ferry and spoke to a dockman. "Where can I find the inn of Zoltan Kossuth?" he asked.

"Would that be the Zoltan Kossuth who is called the Bear? Turn left on the outer street. His is the inn just past the South Gate, under the sign of the bear, and the stable next to it is his, too. It's the best inn in town, if you like your inns orderly. The Bear is notorious for throwing out troublemakers with his own tender hands, although"-he sized Nils up with a leer more gaps than teeth-"He'd have his hands more than full trying to throw you out. Not that I'm calling you a troublemaker, you understand, but if you were."

Nils grinned back, mounted, and started down the cobbled street. "And the fare is good for both man and horse," the dockman shouted after him.

Nils strode into the inn, which was quiet at that hour. The keeper was talking with two men who were telling him more than they realized. Tuned for it, Nils had detected the man's psi before reaching the stable, but engrossed as the Bear was in the words and thoughts he was listening to, he wasn't aware of Nils until the barbarian came through the door.

Zoltan Kossuth was not admired for his beauty. His round head had no hair above the ears, but his black beard, clipped somewhat short, grew densely to the eye sockets, and a similar but untrimmed growth bushed out obstreperously through gaps in the front of a shirt that had more than it could do to contain an enormous chest. He was of moderate height, but his burly hundred kilos made him look stubby. Just for a moment he glanced up balefully at the strange psi, then seeing a servant move to wait on Nils, he returned to his conversation.

Nils sat in an inner corner nursing an ale and a bowl of dry beef. He felt no need to interrupt the Bear's conversation, but saw no point in waiting needlessly if the innkeeper's interest in it was not serious. Therefore, he held in his mind for a moment a clear picture of the Bear holding a gray plastic psi tuner, at the same time naming it in case the Bear would not recognize one by sight.

Zoltan Kossuth scowled across at Nils, excused himself from the table and disappeared into a back room. "Who are you and what do you want?" he demanded mentally.

"I am Nils Jarnhann, on business of the Inner Circle and the king."

This alarmed the Bear. Covering his intentions and actions with discursive camouflage, he walked to a crossbow hanging on the wall. "I'm not aware that a king of Hungary has had dealings with one of the Inner Circle since old Mihaly, counselor to Janos I, was murdered by an agent of Baalzebub when I was a boy." The Bear cranked the crossbow and set a dart to it. "What I would like to know is how you can be on business which is of both the Inner Circle and of Janos III."

"Put down your weapon, Innkeeper." And Nils ran through his mind a rapid montage of Kazi, of Kazi's guard lopping off the head of Imre Rakosi, and of vile acts in the arena. And the identities of all were clear, although Zoltan Kossuth had not known what Kazi looked like until that moment. And it was clear, too, what Nils's mission had been. Then the picture was of Janos leaning over a cot, slicing open the throat of Ahmed.

The innkeeper was a suspicious man for someone who could read minds, but he accepted this intuitively. Removing the dart, he pulled the trigger with a twang and hung up the crossbow. "And what do you want of me?" he asked.

When Nils was finished at the inn, he resaddled his horse and left Buda through the West Gate, riding leisurely toward the castle of Lord Miklos, which dominated the town from a nearby hill. Miklos was the town's protector, deriving an important part of his wealth from its tribute. Prairie flowers bloomed along the climbing dusty road, and the moat surrounding the castle was green with the spears of new cattail leaves that had crowded through the broken blades and stalks of last year's growth. The shallow water, already thick with algae, lost as much to the sun in dry weather as it gained from the overflow of the castle's spring and the waste that emptied into it through an odorous concrete pipe.

The countryside was at peace, the drawbridge down, and the gatekeepers at ease. "Who are you, stranger, and what is your business here?" one called genially as Nils drew up his horse at the outer end.

"I want to speak to Lord Miklos. My name is Nils."

The man's mind told Nils that he might not remember such an outlandish name long enough to repeat it to his master's page.

"Tell him it's the big barbarian he rescued from Lord Lajos' castle," Nils added.

A grin split the guard's brawl-sculptured face and he saluted Nils before he turned to carry the message. The ill-feeling between the two nobles was shared by their retainers.

Lord Miklos was sitting on a stool, stripped to the waist, when Nils was ushered into his chamber. One servant was washing the nobleman's feet and ankles while another towelled his still lean torso. "Ah-ha, it is you. Sit down, my friend. I've been in the fields this morning inspecting the work, and that's a dirty occupation in such dry weather. I'm afraid our talk will have to be short, as my vassals are waiting to meet with me at the noon meal. For business. Have you come to join my guard?" He eyed Nils's expensive clothes.

"No, m' Lord." Nils looked at the servants and spoke in Anglic. "I have news for your ears alone."

The old knight straightened and spoke to the servants, who speeded their work and left. "What is it?" he asked.

"I've come to tell you of the king and Baalzebub, but there's quite a bit of it and it will take time. Also, it's best if King Janos doesn't learn about my visit here."

"Plague and death!" Miklos strode to a bell cord and pulled it. In a moment a page entered. "Lad, I don't want to be disturbed until I ring again. Tell my guests I'll be delayed. Tell the steward to hold the meal… no, tell him to feed the guests. I'll come later."

The page left and Miklos turned to Nils. "All right, my big friend, tell me everything."

Speaking Magyar, Nils told him of Kazi the Conqueror who was the basis in fact for Baalzebub, of Kazi's military strength and psi power and of his intention to conquer Europe.

"And you say this creature has lived since ancient times and looks into men's minds?"