by John Dalmas
Nils grinned again, squatted to the neck, lathered his pale hair, and submerged. When he came up, Imre was staring past him in distress. Two young women had entered and stood quietly, holding long fluffy towels. Nils emerged calmly and stood while one of them dried him. Then she left, again without a word. On each of two benches lay clean white clothing, neatly folded. Nils walked to one of them and dressed in loose white pantaloons and a white robe that came to his knees. There was no belt or other ready means for fastening on as much as a dagger.
Imre's expression was pure consternation. "Go!" he said to the remaining girl. "I will dry myself." She turned. "No. Wait." He looked grimly at Nils and climbed quickly from the bath to be dried. He did not speak until he had dressed himself.
"I've never heard of such shameless customs before," he said tightly. "And I'm going to demand that they keep those women out of here before we become degenerate and useless. I… "
The soft-faced steward had quietly entered the room and made his slight obeisance. "Your Lordship, the chief of your guard, who calls himself Sergeant Bela, awaits your pleasure."
"Awaits our pleasure!" Imre exploded. "That's more than you know enough to do. Haven't you ever heard of announcing yourself before entering? After this, knock or use a bell or something."
The steward bowed more deeply.
"Now you can tell Bela I'll be happy to see him, and then have some food and drink sent up."
With another bow the steward left, and a moment later they heard firmer footfalls. There was a sharp rapping, as of a dagger haft on the wall beside the door.
"Bela?"
"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 lig
ht 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."
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.
15.
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.
The large stone structure was a stadium. The open ground around it had row upon row of hitching posts, where thousands of horses stood in a haze of dust raised by hundreds more being ridden into the area by horse barbarians.
The arena itself was an oval of about forty by seventy meters, encircled by a wall five meters high. Around it rose tier upon tier of seats rapidly filling with armed men. The north-facing side, which held the royal box, was clearly reserved for orcs; the rest of it held horse barbarians. Kazi's throne was on a low pedestal. To each side, slightly ahead and a half-meter lower, were several other upholstered seats, obviously for guests. Only one was occupied, by Nils. Behind Nils and next to him stood Kazi's two personal guards. Others of the elite guard stood around the perimeter of the box.
