“Not yet.” Evelyn glanced at him. “I can go wake them, if you like.”
Erik shook his head. “Let them sleep a little longer. We can’t leave until the others get back, and we have a long day ahead of us. There is no reason to wake them yet.”
Erik was silent for a long moment, and then he stopped and turned to look at her.
“Why are you here?” he asked.
She raised her eyebrow. “What do you mean?”
“Why are you in Norway? I know Anna said that you work at the embassy, but why didn’t you stay in Oslo? The embassy staff are protected under international law. You could have remained in the embassy and the Germans would have guaranteed your safety until your government made arrangements for an evacuation. Instead you fled the city with Anna and Peder. Why?”
“It seemed like the best thing to do at the time,” Evelyn said with a shrug. “If I had stayed in Oslo, it may have been months before I could leave. My work at the embassy was temporary, and I need to be back in London as soon as possible. I don’t have months to wait.”
“Temporary? How temporary?”
“I was due to leave by the end of the week,” she said smoothly.
Erik was silent for a moment, then he shook his head. “Bad luck. If they had held off another week you wouldn’t be in the middle of this.”
Evelyn was silent and he looked at her.
“You’re involved with the war effort?”
“Yes.”
“What made you get involved in this war?” he asked, glancing at her.
“What made any of us get involved in this war?” Evelyn countered. “Why did you?”
He smiled dryly. “I wasn’t involved in it until Hitler picked this fight,” he pointed out.
She made a face. “Good point,” she said sheepishly. “Well, I couldn’t just sit by and do nothing while others went off to fight. And so I decided to do something instead.”
“And you ended up in the middle of a German invasion,” he said. “Not exactly what you were expecting when you arrived in Oslo, was it?”
“Not exactly, no.”
“And how do you feel about being in the war now?”
“When I first began, I wanted to do something for my country. I wanted to do something that would matter,” she said slowly. “Everyone I knew was joining the RAF or the Navy. I wanted to contribute as well.”
“And now?” Erik prompted when she paused.
“Now I’ve seen what the Germans are willing to do, and how far Hitler will go to expand his territory. I want to do what I can to stop them. Your country should not be going through this, just as Poland shouldn’t have gone through this. This is no longer about making a contribution for my country, it’s about fighting to protect all of Europe.”
“Protect all of Europe? You mean as your country protected Finland?” Erik shook his head. “There is no protection from the Nazis. They’re running rampant all over Eastern Europe and Scandinavia and no one has lifted a finger to stop them, most especially your government. You have very ideological views, and they are to be commended, but they won’t get you very far in this war. You cannot protect Europe, just as you cannot protect Norway. If you and others like you continue to think that you can, this war will end very quickly with France and England’s defeat. You are on the defensive, and that is how you must think. You must be prepared to fight, not to protect, but to survive.”
He walked over to the door of the barn and reached inside, grabbing something. He turned to walk back to her, a rifle in his hand.
“Do you know how to use this?” he asked, handing her the gun.
Evelyn took the rifle. “Yes.”
He raised his eyebrows skeptically. “Show me.”
She looked at him for a moment, then turned her attention to the rifle in her hands. It was a standard carbine and, although it was one she had never handled before, Evelyn was well acquainted with bolt-action rifles. The magazine was different from the top-loading setup that she was used to, and it took her a moment to figure out that the cartridges were loaded from the side directly into the receiver. She opened the hinged compartment and saw that it was fully loaded. Closing it again, she lifted the rifle to her shoulder and peered down the sight.
“What kind of rifle is this?” she asked. “It’s different from anything I’ve used.”
“It’s a Krag–Jørgensen M1912/18. Norwegian-made.”
She lowered the rifle and walked a few feet into the clearing, looking around. Spotting the edge of an ancient and rotting fence in the distance through the trees, she pointed to it.
“Do you see that fence?”
“Yes.”
“The second-to-last post, the one that is lower than the others,” she told him, raising the rifle and settling it against her shoulder.
Erik crossed his arms over his chest and nodded. “All right.”
Evelyn braced her legs and peered down the sight again, aiming at the post. After a moment, she exhaled and squeezed the trigger. The shot cracked out and she lifted her head with a frown. The bullet had gone wide. She immediately lowered her head again, adjusted her aim, and fired again. This time, her shot hit the second-to-last fence post.
Lowering the rifle, she turned to hand it back to Erik. He unfolded his arms and shook his head, his face softening just slightly.
“Keep it. You’re a better shot than the soldier who was assigned that gun,” he told her. “It will be better served with you.”
Evelyn frowned. “Then what will he use?”
“He was killed yesterday by a German sniper. He has no need of it anymore.”
She swallowed. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. We’re at war now. This is how war goes.” His dark eyes met hers. “I wish you, Anna, and Peder didn’t have to be caught in the middle of it, but you are. There is no helping that. You take the gun and
