John Dalmas - The Yngling

"Yes. And there are others who can read thoughts," Nils answered. "I'm one of them." Without giving Miklos time to react fully to that, Nils told him of Janos' visit to Kazi's city some years earlier, of his conviction that Kazi could not be withstood and of his decision to ally himself to Kazi when the time came to assume the throne of Hungary. Then, without being specific or complete, he told of the kinfolk, of his commission to murder Kazi, and of his brief service with Janos. And he told of Ahmed, who also was a spy set to report on Janos through the psi tuner.

The old knight's eyes were bright with anger as he arose from his chair. "So this Ahmed looked into our minds when we had audiences with Janos and told him what we thought to keep secret. A lot of things are becoming clear to me now," he said grimly. "We'll have to overthrow him."

"I have not finished, m' Lord. The king has killed Ahmed with his own hand."

Miklos sat down again, confused and prepared to listen.

Nils told of his friendship with Imre Rakosi, of Kazi's demanding the boy, and of their going.

"And Janos sent him! The man is gutless!"

Nils went on to tell of Imre's murder. "But I was lucky enough to escape and returned to Pest to tell the king, and Janos cut Ahmed's throat. And Ahmed had a magic box he used to talk to his master's mind from afar. I know the use of such boxes, and used it to speak to my teacher who lives near the Northern Sea. He told me that Kazi has struck north against the Ukrainians. Casimir of Poland is gathering his army to join the Ukrainians, but he in turn has been invaded by barbarians from the north, so he can send only part of his army against Kazi."

Miklos was on his feet. "Why, man, we should go. Before we are alone. Throw down the traitor and go ourselves. There are no finer fighters in the world than Magyars. I… "

Nils interrupted. "That's what Janos plans to do. It's the reason he's called for his nobles. 'We must move for better or for worse,' he said, 'and if need be we'll die like men, with swords in our hands' "

Miklos stared. "Janos said that? This Janos?" His gaze sharpened. "Why did you come here to tell me this when I'll hear it from Janos himself in a few days? And why did you ask that your visit here be kept secret from him?"

The nobleman's mind was suddenly dark with suspicion.

"Because you've distrusted and despised Janos and might not believe him, while you might well believe me. And you'll be the key man among the nobles. For you are not only the most powerful of them; you're also the most respected, even by your enemies. If you respond with belief and approve the king's plan, the others will follow. But if Janos knew I'd taken it on myself to come here, he'd be mad. My forwardness has already tried his patience."

Miklos looked shrewdly at Nils. "I'll bet it has, at that. I look forward to seeing more of you, northman, for you're as crafty as you are strong, and I enjoy craft in an honest man."

"You'll be disappointed then, m'Lord, because I'm leaving tomorrow. The barbarians distracting Casimir are my own people, and I have to try to bring them in with us instead of unknowingly against us. If you see me again, it will be with them, the tribes of northmen, who, I have to tell you frankly, are the greatest fighters in the world."

It was then Miklos tested Nils. You've said a lot today, he thought silently but deliberately, most of it hard to believe, and asked me to accept it as true. You've asked me to trust Janos, a man I've always distrusted with what I know now to be good reason. So tell me, can you really read my mind?

The grin came back to Nils's face. "Yes m'Lord, and the honest doubts that go with the thoughts."

And Miklos smiled, the first smile Nils had seen on him. "That settles it. I'll do as you ask." He put out a big knobby hand that Nils wrapped in his.

"Thank you, m'Lord." Nils started to leave, then turned at the door. "And sir, don't underestimate the king. His mind does prefer the devious, just as you once told me, but he is no coward."

That evening Nils introduced Zoltan Kossuth to Janos, and the Bear showed no sign of surliness, for he was nothing if not shrewd. And they talked until late.

In the morning Nils rode north from the city astride a large strong horse, a prize of Magyar horse breeding. And with him rode Bela and a tough guard corporal also named Bela, differentiated by the guard as Bela One and Bela Two. Fourteen days later seventeen hundred Magyar knights left the fields outside Pest, with Janos and the western lords. By the time they reached the northeastern end of the kingdom and were ready to start over Uzhok Pass for the Ukraine, they had been joined by the eastern lords with twenty-one hundred more.

A strip of wet meadow, roughly half a mile wide, bordered the brook. Several knights stood looking south into it, hands on sword hilts, watching three men ride toward them. One of the knights turned toward an awning stretched between young aspens and shouted in Polish. An officer ducked out from beneath the canopy, moving easily despite his heavy mail shirt, buckling on a sword. His helmet covered his ears and the back of his strong neck, and from the temples two steel eagle's wings projected.

The three men had approached near enough now to be recognized as a mixed lot. Two were knights, lanceless but wearing mail shirts and swords, their shields strapped behind one shoulder. The third was clearly one of the northern barbarians, a shirtless giant thickly muscled, with his blond hair in short braids, the skin of a wolf's head laced over his steel cap.

All three were well mounted, with a string of spares behind, and horses and men looked to have traveled a long way in a hurry.

The officer swung onto his mount. "Halt!" His command was in Polish, but the meaning was plain. "Identify yourselves!" That was not so clear but could be guessed.

Bela One spoke loudly in Anglic. "We are from the court of Janos III, King of the Magyars, who has gone with his army to fight the hordes of Baalzebub. We have come to see Casimir, King of the Poles."

The Pole scowled. "You have a northman with you."

"True. He has been in the service of Janos," Bela replied, "and has come to lead the northmen against Baalzebub. His name is Iron Hand, Jarnhann in his language, and your king knows of him."

Nils spoke then, his voice casual but strong and easily heard. "You mistrust us. We'll give you our weapons if you want; we don't need them among friends. And send word to Jan Reszke that we've arrived."

The hard-eyed knight stared narrowly at them for a moment, then turned and shouted abruptly toward the awning. A younger officer emerged buckling his harness, and mounted the horse led him by a squire. Several other knights rode out of the woods, their faces curious or distrustful.

"Your weapons," the officer ordered in Anglic. The two Belas turned worriedly to Nils, but he was unbuckling his harness so they reluctantly surrendered theirs. The officer then led them through a belt of woods and into a trampled meadow that sloped gradually toward a marsh some five kilometers away. On the far side of the marsh, which seemed two or three kilometers across, Nils saw a long broken line of low dunes, dark with pine, where he supposed the northmen were.

A stream flowed out of the woods nearby and toward the distant marsh. On both sides of it were orderly ranks of colored tents and tethered horses covering scores of hectares. They rode among them and soon saw what they knew must be the tent of Casimir. Like the others, its canopy was brightly striped, and the sides were rolled up to let the air through. But its diameter was at least twenty meters; it was surrounded by a substantial open space, and the banner above it was larger and stood higher than any other. Their guide stopped them a short distance away and one of their escort rode ahead. Some knights came out of the king's tent and squinted suspiciously at them through the bright sunlight. Then one swung onto a saddled horse and rode the few score meters across to them. He stared truculently at Nils.