“No!” Velona broke in: one word of Lenello Hasso could follow.

“No,” the wizard agreed. “But it could have been so, which is why I applied the truth test. Or you could have been one of our evildoers on the run, looking to cover your tracks with a tale too wild to be disbelieved. Or you could have been a disgraced man looking to start over somewhere far from where you were born, and using a strange story likewise. Not too hard to pretend not to understand or speak. But no. You are not pretending. And if you saw gold in the air…”

“You still haven’t said what that means,” Hasso reminded him.

“It means your life, and mine, and everyone else’s, get more complicated than any of us might wish,” Aderno said. Hasso wanted to hit him for talking in circles. Decking a genuine wizard, though, didn’t strike him as smart. Aderno went on, “And it means you can’t stay in this miserable backwater post.” Mertois grunted at that. Aderno ignored him. “I shall take you to Drammen.” Seeing Hasso look blank, he condescended to explain: “To the capital.”

II

Once the Lenelli made up their minds, they didn’t screw around. Inside of an hour, Hasso was on a horse riding west. He wore his own short boots, trousers, and helmet. Grumbling still, Mertois doled out a padded shirt, a mailshirt to go over it, and a thin surcoat to go over that. The castle commander also gave Hasso a sword. He said something as he did. For decoration only, Hasso guessed. Don’t try to use it, not if you want to go on breathing.

He still had his Schmeisser. As long as his ammunition lasted, he was the toughest guy in town, even if only Velona knew it. Enough rounds for a few hours against the Russians – or a few minutes if things got hot. How long would it last here? Longer, anyhow, because none of these bastards had a weapon to match it.