“Besides, with your occasional periods of telepathic sensitivity, you might find it interesting to know a trained and highly functional telepath.”
“You’re right,” he said. “And I will talk to her. I guess I let my frustrations get me down.”
She bent and kissed her seated husband on the forehead.
“I’ve never seen you so impressed by anyone before,” he went on. “Certainly not on just a few days’ acquaintance.”
“Don’t let the greasy deerskin breeches mislead you,” Celia said. “Besides, I’ve had some things sewn together for her, a bit lighter and easier to clean. She’s too pregnant for any of our jumpsuits.
“You’ll be impressed with her too, I promise. She’s not only highly intelligent and magnetic, but she seems so, so integrated. When I talk with her I feel positively—outclassed—and you know inferiority isn’t part of my self image.”
Ram shook his head.
“Listen, Cele,” he said. “For whatever it’s worth, I apologize for being such a lout. Introduce me to Ilse. I’ve barely met her, and I need you to start me out. I hope she’s used to people that run off at the mind. I can usually control my mouth, but . . . ”
Cele had been right: magnetic was the word. And striking, almost handsome. On New Home, with its centuries of racial blending, her honey-blond hair and high color would have drawn immediate attention. But her real impact was of strength and composure. Even advanced pregnancy failed to make her seem weak or vulnerable. Yet she was very much a woman—swollen but physically attractive. And the sense of presence she radiated had affected Ram before she’d said a word.
He’d been surprised at her Anglic. On New Home, with its cultural conservatism and literary tradition, the language had not changed much, but he wouldn’t have expected so little change in it on Earth. The Psi Alliance had kept it as their primary language, she explained. It helped maintain unity among the farflung members.
They’d nurtured it also among the people around them as a second language understood almost everywhere in feudal Europe. The Merchant Kin and the powerful Inner Circle had been instrumental in establishing Anglic among the upper classes, where the advantages of an international language maintained it. The monastic “Wandering Kin” had even kept it alive, if not exactly vigorous, among the peasantry. A deliberate policy of linguistic homogeneity, plus a strong oral and literary tradition, had kept it largely unchanged for more than seven hundred years.
And Ram could not doubt her telepathy. For the most part she waited for him to voice his questions and statements, but she’d openly anticipated him several times.
Although they did not seem pertinent to his problem. Ram found the Kinfolk especially interesting. “Do you mean to say,” he asked, “that there are hundreds of psis in Europe forming a complete and intercommunicating culture and the populace as a whole doesn’t know it?”
She nodded. “They know of the Wandering Kin of course, but they don’t realize what they are. The peasants regard them as seers and counselors, and look to them for advice, and that is as close as anyone comes to understanding them. Members of the Merchant Kin and the Inner Circle are thought of simply as shrewd individual merchants or advisors.”
“And the Northmen don’t know either?”
“Only Nils does; they have known of telepathy for only a few years. They were isolated for a long time in their northern land, and the Kinfolk have never been among them.”
“What do they think of telepathy?”
“Their Yngling is a telepath, so they accept it. And it’s their nature not to fear the new and unfamiliar. They have great confidence in their resourcefulness, their ability to handle whatever comes up. They may reject something as undesirable, but not from fear of its strangeness.”
“You said their—something. Their Ingling? What’s an Ingling?”
“Many of them believe my husband, Nils, is the Yngling. Long ago ‘yngling’ simply meant a youth in their language. Anciently, Anglic had a cognate, ‘youngling.’ All three Northman tribes share a legend of a young man, an yngling, who appeared in a time of danger perhaps three hundred years ago, when constant warring threatened to destroy them. They had no warrior class then; all men fought. The southern tribe, the Jötar, had gained the upper hand. It seemed they would kill or enslave the Svear, and perhaps the Norskar as well. But an yngling appeared among the Svear who became a great raid leader and war chief, and before long it seemed they would destroy the Jötar instead. Then an yngling came among the Jötar and saved them. Soon he made himself known as the same yngling who had saved the Svear and Norskar. He said he belonged to no tribe or clan, but to all Northmen. And he had great power over them by his wisdom and truth and justice, and gave them the bans that set limits on warring and feuding, the bans that let them live as men without fear and hate.