Hasso's smile was as crooked as Sanfrat's. He would have handled things the same way in the Wehrmacht. Yes, people were people, whether they carried Schmeissers or lances, rode horses or panzers.
Were the Grenye people, too? Hasso hadn't worried about Jews in his own world; he didn't worry much about the Grenye here. They were the enemy. What more did a soldier need to know about them?
Orosei lifted his mug of beer in salute to Hasso, who sat across the table from him in the buttery. Hasso had been using bits of stale bread and raisins to demonstrate his idea. "I like it," Orosei told him. "You can stab right through the line that way. And once you do, the bastards on the other side won't know what the demon to try next."
"That is how I see it," Hasso agreed. "Marshal Lugo does not think so, though."
"Lugo doesn't think, and that's about the size of it." The master-at-arms didn't bother lowering his voice. If Lugo decided he was insulted, he would have to challenge. Here as in the Reich, the challenged party got to choose the weapons. Orosei was sudden death on two legs with any weapon or none. Lugo was brave enough and tough enough, but he wasn't in the master-at-arms' class. Orosei went on, "We can do this. It wouldn't be hard. We really can — and we ought to."
"We see things the same way, then," Hasso said.
Orosei drained his mug and waved for a refill. A Grenye serving girl came over with a pitcher. "Thanks, sweetheart," Orosei said, and swatted her on the backside. She squeaked, but she was smiling as she scurried away. Chuckling, Orosei went on, "Let's both talk to his Majesty. Lugo's a marshal, but he isn't a god. The two of us can cancel him out."
"I would love to," Hasso said.
"You're all right. By the goddess, you are," the master-at-arms said. "I wasn't sure Velona knew what she was doing till I got to know you, but she did. She usually does. You've got your head nailed down tight, bugger me if you don't." Hasso would have said Orosei had his head on straight, but it amounted to the same thing.
"I thank you," the Wehrmacht officer answered. "You, too."
"Well, I try," Orosei said. "Some of the people in this castle don't know enough to squat before they shit, if you know what I mean. But you aren't like that. You've got your fancy weapon, but it doesn't mean you don't know how to fight."
"I thank you," Hasso said again. Praise from a soldier as capable as Orosei really meant something to him.
"I don't waste time buttering people up," Orosei said. "Life's too short for that crap. So we'll go to the king and see what he says, and then we'll go from there."
"What if he says no?" Hasso asked.
The master-at-arms shrugged. "Then it's better luck next time, that's all. What his Majesty says, goes. But the idea's too good not to try it out. It isn't like we've had much luck against Bucovin. Everybody knows how things keep going wrong there. Maybe this will make them go right instead. Here's hoping." He raised his mug again.
In the hallway outside the buttery, a woman said, "No! No! No! No! No!" Her voice got higher and shriller every time she repeated it. Hasso didn't wait to hear any more. He bounced to his feet and ran out to see what was going on. Orosei was right behind him.
Aderno was dragging a Grenye woman, a serving wench, along by the wrist. She didn't want to come, but he was much bigger and much stronger. "By the goddess, wizard, can't you find a willing woman?" Orosei didn't bother hiding his scorn.
"I don't want her for that," Aderno said.
"What, then?" Hasso demanded. Everything about the scene, from Aderno's grip to the woman's eyes, so wide with fear that you could see white all around the irises, looked like a prelude to rape.
"It was your idea," Aderno answered. "I want to try that spell on her, the one that didn't work on Scanno. If it doesn't work on her, either, then Bucovin's got claws in the palace. That's something we need to know."
Orosei relaxed. "Ah. All right. Makes sense."
Hasso didn't. "Can't you use a different spell? A spell that doesn't do what the one with Scanno would?"
"No." The wizard shook his head. "I want everything to be the same except for the person I'm aiming at."
A scientific sorcerer, Hasso thought. "Can you cure the spell once you cast it?" he asked. He didn't like the idea of slagging her face with boils and carbuncles and whatever else Aderno would conjure up.
"Maybe." Aderno didn't sound as if he cared, or as if he intended to try. "Any which way, I'll learn something."
"She do something to deserve something bad happen to her?" Hasso asked. The Grenye woman started shrieking and wailing again — now she knew something bad would happen.
"She walked by when I needed somebody. That's all that matters," Aderno replied.
"No. Let her go," Hasso said.
"What? Are you out of your mind? I'd just have to go and catch another one." The wizard might have been talking about rabbits.
"Let her go," Hasso repeated. "Find a Grenye who does something bad. Find one who… should have it happen." He couldn't come up with the word deserve in Lenello, but he got his meaning across.
"Listen, Hasso, take it easy. She's only a Grenye," Orosei said.
"In Bucovin, do they say, 'He is only a Lenello'?" Hasso asked.
The master-at-arms bristled. So did Aderno. "They'd better not," Orosei growled. "They're only Grenye, sure, but they're not that stupid."
"Come on." Aderno tugged at the woman. "We've already wasted too much time on this nonsense."
Hasso realized he would have to hurt the wizard, maybe kill him, to make him stop. He hesitated before doing that. The way Orosei went along with Aderno made him hesitate more. They'd lived here all their lives. They knew how things were supposed to work. He hadn't, and didn't. With a disgusted noise, he turned away.
Aderno dragged the Grenye woman down the hall. As she went, she stretched out a hand to Hasso. "You tried, lord. Thank you for trying. Nobody ever did before." Then she was gone.
"Jesus!" Hasso kicked the wall as hard as he could. Pain shot up his leg. He hadn't thought he could feel any worse, and didn't like finding he was wrong.
"What are you throwing a fit for?" Honest puzzlement filled Orosei's voice.
"Anybody'd think you were laying her or something. If you were, you should've said so. The wizard would've snagged somebody else. But if you were, you'd better light out for the tall timber starting yesterday, on account of the goddess won't be very happy with you."
"Not laying her," Hasso said. The master-at-arms was right; Velona wouldn't be happy with him if he were, and that was putting it mildly. "Just… bad to take advantage of weak."
"Why? What else are they there for?" No, Orosei didn't get it. Would Hasso, had he come here flush with victory in 1940? He didn't think so. Defeat was always so much more instructive than victory. Germany had learned a lot from World War I, France next to nothing. What would the Reich learn this time around?
Not to mess with the goddamn Russians, that's what, he thought. Not messing with the USA looks like a pretty good idea, too. And messing with both of them at once is really, really dumb.
"Things you do, sometimes they come back and — " Hasso mimed biting.
Orosei threw his hands in the air. "Oh, by the goddess! She's only a Grenye. She's not even a cute Grenye. I'm glad you're not screwing her — I wouldn't think much of your taste if you were. I mean, sure, pussy's pussy, but you can do better than that. Demons! You have done better than that, way better."
"You think Grenye don't remember everything Lenelli do to them?" Hasso asked.
"Let 'em remember. They can't do anything about it. They're — "