Aderno bit his lip. Yes, he wanted to watch the foreigner fail, too. He just wasn’t so sure as the rest of the wizards that Hasso would. In the end, though, he nodded. “Yes, me, too. Why not?”

Hasso turned out not to have one more coin. “If the unicorn kills me, tell Velona I say she should pay you,” he said. Aderno nodded. Hasso bowed to the other wizards. “Whose unicorn do I ride?”

“You mean, whose unicorn don’t you ride?” Flegrei jeered. “You can try with mine. Once you get what you deserve, maybe you won’t strut so tall.”

That gibe stung. Hasso didn’t like being short among the Lenelli. He briefly wondered how the Grenye, most of whom were much shorter than he was, enjoyed looking up to the big blond men from out of the west. But then the Grenye slipped from his mind. He bowed again. “Shorten the stirrup leathers, please,” he told Flegrei, whose legs were much longer than his.

Flegrei’s answering bow was scorn personified. “At your service, my prickly little hedgehog,” he said. Hasso watched him closely as he adjusted them, but he did an honest job of it. That had to mean he really didn’t believe Hasso could stay on the unicorn. When Flegrei finished, he stepped away from the beautiful snowy beast. “All yours.”

“Danke sch o n” Hasso forgot Lenello for the moment. He walked up to the unicorn. It looked at him sidelong out of an eye as blue as Velona’s. A low snort, more curious than anything else – he hoped – came from it. The wizards murmured among themselves. Maybe they’d expected the unicorn to run him through with its horn as soon as he got anywhere near it.

Before he could think about what he was doing, he swung up into the saddle. The unicorn snorted again, this time sounding distinctly surprised. It started to buck.

“Cut that out,” he said, and went to work calming it as he would have with a restive horse. And the unicorn, sensing that the new rider, though a stranger, had some notion of what he was doing up there, did calm down. He rode it in a slow circle around the staring wizards and halted directly in front of Flegrei.

Dismounting, he bowed yet again and held out his hand. “Nice animal. Now pay up, you cocksure bastard.”

Goggling, Flegrei paid. “How did you do that?” he choked out.

“Easy.” Hasso jabbed a thumb at his own chest. “I’m magic. You’re smart, you stop screwing with me.” He went around to the other wizards, collecting a goldpiece from each of them. He saved Aderno for last. “You, too.”

“Here.” Aderno gave him the coin. “You are magical, or you can be. If you saw the gold star, you certainly can be. But I didn’t think potential would satisfy a unicorn – which shows I don’t know as much as I wish I did. There is more to you than meets the eye, Hasso Pemsel. How much more keeps surprising me, and not always happily.”

Back in Germany, Hasso thought, I’d have to be a virgin to ride a unicorn. But there were no unicorns in Germany. And, with the Russians rampaging through the country all hot with vengeance, there probably weren’t a hell of a lot of virgins left there, either.

The wizards squabbled furiously. “He saw gold?” Flegrei shouted at Aderno. “Why the demon didn’t you say so? You would have saved us all some money!”

“You would have saved us from looking like idiots, too,” another sorcerer said.

“Nothing could save some people from looking like idiots.” Aderno could be bitchy.

“You must be one of them,” the other wizard retorted. “If he saw gold and you bet against him, you deserved to lose, by the goddess.”

“It’s not just the talent – it’s the training. Or I thought it was,” Aderno said. “But it seems I was wrong.”

“Yes, it seems you were.” Flegrei sounded disgusted. “And it cost all of us gold, and now the goddess-cursed foreigner will be more puffed up than ever.”

Hasso felt like making his chest swell up and strutting around like a pouter pigeon. He decided not to, though; Flegrei was already angry enough at him. And Aderno said, “Watch your mouth, you blockhead! Whatever the foreigner is, he’s not goddess-cursed. Velona will put your ears on a necklace if she hears you go around saying he is.”

“Ha! I’m not afraid of her,” Flegrei declared.

“Well, if that doesn’t prove you’re a blockhead, I don’t know what would,” Aderno said. By the way the rest of the wizards stepped back from Flegrei, they agreed with Aderno. That was one more sign of the power of the woman Hasso had taken up with – or rather, the woman who’d taken up with him.

As for his own power … Security minister wasn’t bad. De facto General Staff officer wasn’t bad, either. And showing up a bunch of haughty wizards, and making money while he did it, was a hell of a lot better than not bad.

Coming back to Castle Svarag wasn’t quite like coming home for Hasso. He wondered if he would ever feel at home anywhere here. He doubted it. Giving up the sense of home was the emigre’s curse. But he’d spent some time at Mertois’ castle, and he’d got to know a good many of the castellan’s soldiers. He felt less not at home here than he did most other places in this world. The convoluted thought made one corner of his mouth quirk up in ironic amusement.

“Good to see you, little man. Good to see you,” Sholseth boomed. The clout on the back he gave Hasso almost knocked him over. “I hear you and Orosei couldn’t take each other out.”

“After a while, we stop trying,” Hasso answered. “We decide, why bother? One of us could get hurt bad.”

Sholseth nodded. “Makes sense. I tell you, I felt better when I heard Orosei didn’t beat you. He’s as good as we’ve got. I know I can’t take him, even though I’m bigger. So if you’re as good as he is, no wonder you knocked me for a loop.”

“Maybe I’m just lucky,” Hasso said.

“Nah.” Sholseth shook his head. “You’re good. When you threw me over your shoulder, I thought, What the demon am I getting into? Then I went wham, and I pretty much stopped thinking after that.” He thumped Hasso again, still good-naturedly. He seemed to take a perverse pride in being the first Lenello to discover what a formidable fellow this foreigner could be.

Hasso was glad enough to drink and talk with his old acquaintances. But he also found he had serious business at Castle Svarag. Mertois was keeping close to a dozen Grenye who’d got caught slipping east toward Bucovin in his dungeon. Hasso had them brought out one at a time. “If you lie to me, you be sorry,” he told the first one, a stocky man named Magar. He nodded to Aderno. “And the wizard, he knows if you lie.”

“I didn’t do anything,” Magar said stolidly.

“No one ever does anything,” Hasso answered with a weary sigh. “Everyone is always so innocent, it makes you cry. Why you run off to Bucovin?”

“I wasn’t going to Bucovin,” Magar said. “I had a fight with my woman. I was going away when these Lenelli on horseback grabbed me and hauled me back here.”

“Well?” Hasso asked Aderno.

The wizard used the little truth spell Hasso had seen before. Then he frowned. “I’m not sure. It doesn’t say yes or no.” His head came up and his nostrils twitched; he might have been a hunting hound taking a scent. “This reminds me of how that goddess-cursed Scanno masked his taste for Grenye-loving.”

“Does it?” Hasso eyed Magar. “Where do we go now?”

“Where else? The torturers. They’ll pull the truth out of him,” Aderno answered.

Magar let out a horrified yowl. “I didn’t do anything!” he wailed when he found words. “Don’t hurt me! I didn’t do anything!”

Aderno waited to see what Hasso did next. If Hasso didn’t go along, the wizard would suspect him of liking the Grenye too well. But that wasn’t what decided him. Bucovin was the enemy. If Magar worked for the Grenye there, he would know useful things, things King Bottero needed to find out. “Yes, we give him to them,” Hasso said. Magar howled again. Ignoring him, Hasso went on, “They need to go after truth, not to hurt for the fun of hurting. They know the difference?”