Lora of Two Worlds

On the other side of the wall, Leon was sitting in his small court taking the sun. Hearing the noise beyond the wall, he turned to Linn, who was stretching his neck to peer at the tree:

”Go, see what they’re up to next door. It’s loud.”

Linn was about to walk to the wall; Leon stopped him: ”I sent you to peep, were you going to jump up on the wall in plain sight?”

”Oh.”

Linn looked round. A tall elm stood not far off, in full leaf; he went over, took the trunk in his arms, and swarmed up it hand over foot. Soon he dropped back down, rubbed his nose, and grinned:

”Hey, the young lady from the Count’s house is up the tree; I couldn’t quite see, she had a cord and was tying up a branch.”

”Makes no sense.”

Leon glanced at the door of the court, wouldn’t wait for Linn to push his chair, stood up, and walked into the house.

”My lord, how did you go on your own?” Linn followed, pushing the empty chair; he shut the door behind him:

”My lord, yesterday you went and jumped in the water to save a girl, and today you walk on your own. Dr. Osler said not to put any force on your legs for seven days; if the suppression draught runs wild, we won’t be able to hold it later.”

”Whose fault is it none of you can dive?”

Leon sat on the daybed and kneaded his knee. Walking two steps was nothing, yesterday had been the thing. Yesterday had been the sixth day of the drug; after he had pulled her out and gone aboard to change, his legs had already gone; he had rubbed in salve and drunk a draught, and only this morning had recovered.

”When you were small you were forever diving in the Swan Pool, we hadn’t your opportunities, my lord. Pray, my lord, don’t be rash; bear these few days. When the draught wears off, you’ll be a whole man again.”

”You’re no whole man.”

In two days his legs would mend, but he must still sit in the wheelchair; he couldn’t let his brother the King see anything. Bide quiet three months, and then have it seen to. Aha, an old fracture, mended, would still leave a man who could walk but limped.

That was what his brother the King wanted.

He gave a cold snort, and a heavy sigh.

Dr. Osler’s draught had taken the feeling from his legs for a time; let the royal physicians examine him as they would, the two legs gave back nothing.

Only so had King Edmond let him from under his eye and out to Lohenheim.

Even so, the King had men watching him in secret, wouldn’t let him seek a healer these three months; far less let anyone find that the legs weren’t broken, only held under drug.

”Linn, are they gone? Up the tree again, see what she’s done to it.”

What he didn’t understand always left him uneasy.

The little Odenheim cousin had taken a dunk and lost her memory, that could be turned to use by anyone with a mind to. To see what she had been up to beside the wall was, for Leon, only natural.

It wasn’t that Leon was suspicious beyond reason, there were too many he couldn’t trust.

A month ago he had been falsely accused by Valentin Voss, that he had conspired with the Lord Chancellor for treason. When, after much trouble, he had laid hands on the proof that would clear him, the King had quietly summoned him to the palace.

Coming out of the Princes’ Quarter, Leon’s horse had shied, and the Leon who, four years later, was to die at the hands of the Silver Shield in that same place, was born again into his own body.

This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author’s work.

The Leon come back from the future looked at the proof of innocence in his breast, and could only follow the royal attendant into the palace.

The Leon reborn knew that, once in the palace, his brother the King would plead as a brother and reason as a king, talk him into yielding to Valentin Voss’s grip, and let him keep his place as Baron of Kerne, still housed in the Princes’ Quarter, walking on eggshells for four years.

He had thought he might live out those years unheard, but then, in the Silver Coup, the captain of Voss’s guard, maddened with blood, swept the Princes’ Quarter; he and several of his kin hadn’t escaped the knives of the Lord Steward’s men.

Now he had but one thought:

Out of the Princes’ Quarter, or be butchered like a lamb!

Leon was skilled in arms and well-loved by his men; he had long been a thorn in his brother’s side. The Leon of the old life had been blinded by his brother’s public praise, and hadn’t seen the danger coming.

It was Voss’s captain who killed him, but the one who let it pass was his own brother.

On the road to the palace a plan took shape; even at some risk, Leon thought it better than waiting for the axe.

In the throne hall of the Palace of the Holy Crown, Leon came before his brother the King, even the opening speech was the same as before; his brother pleaded as a brother, reasoned as a king:

”Leon, I’m sorry. But We don’t yet hold the Silver Shields in Our hand. We’re placing Our own men, but We can’t yet startle the deer in the wood. We know you’re falsely accused, but We can only do as Voss asks, and strip you and the Lord Chancellor of your posts; only so will he drop his guard, and Our men find their chance at him...”

This time Leon didn’t, as he had before, fall on his face and weep. He knew his brother spoke the truth, at this moment he couldn’t change the outcome; he must sacrifice himself and submit.

But this time he wouldn’t be sacrificed for nothing.

Leon said, levelly: ”Burn the proofs, strip me of my princely title, even urge the lords not to plead for me or for the Lord Chancellor, I can do all that. But I have a condition.”

”What condition?”

”Once I’m made a baron and no longer a prince, I need no longer live in the Princes’ Quarter. Let me leave Augustburg, and live in Lohenheim.”

On the present footing, to stay in the cage of the Princes’ Quarter, even reborn, would only lead to the same end:

His brother still in the Lord Steward’s grip; Leon still a prince without soldiers, without power, unable to keep himself safe.

”Since the days of the old kings, no prince has ever left the Princes’ Quarter...” the King murmured.

”I’ll soon be no prince.” This time Leon didn’t weep for the loss of his title; he felt, instead, the lightness of a pack thrown off.

”Let me think...”

”Brother, I have no wish for the throne. Perhaps I can prove it, in my own way.”

Leon’s way was Dr. Osler, the famed physician who walked outside the Royal College of Physicians.

In his last life, Osler had hinted as much to him: a cripple, by the same token, lost his claim to the throne. Pity he had thought, then, that his fall was the end of it, and wouldn’t leave the comforts of Augustburg.

To leap from the roof of the great hall, and break his legs, that was the next day’s proof to the King that he had no thought for the throne.

The King watched the chief royal physician test his legs and find no feeling in them, and was moved to tears:

”Leon, why were you so foolish? Well, your brother grants you leave to live in the Eastern Capital. Pity that we two brothers will hardly meet again... In return, ask your brother what you will.”

”A thousand men-at-arms, to keep me safe.”

A baron’s house might have no more than a hundred guards; to keep more was treason against God and Crown, so Leon must ask the King for them openly.

The King paced a few steps, looking at Leon. ”Leon, as King, We can’t open that door for you. But as your brother, We can give you a thing.”

He went to the shelves, rummaged a long while, and brought out a carved wooden casket; opened it; inside lay an iron-black token. He handed it to Leon.

”The Abyssal Token?”

Leon had never heard of it. He turned it over; on the back was carved in Latin ”The Lion in the Deep”, its meaning he couldn’t fathom.

”This token can call up the Frost Ravens, the sworn band that the old commander Aldric forged for King Edmond II in the old days; it’s said that five hundred of them could stand against ten thousand. But Aldric died of a fever before he could use them to shield King Edmond II, and the Frost Ravens were lost, somewhere in Lohenheim.

”The token came from King Edmond II’s hand; in time it passed to our late father the King, and on my fifteenth birthday he gave it to me. Today We pass it to you. We’ll also proclaim to the council that the Frost Ravens are yours, by Our gift, and no office will hinder you.”

Leon laughed bitterly inside:

That there could be such barefaced knavery in the world!

As a brother, you hand me a tale seventy years old, a token that every king before you has turned the realm inside out to find, and you too, no doubt, have had your men hunt for it; else you wouldn’t be so free with it now.

Even if Aldric had truly had such a band as the Frost Ravens, by now any man of them would be near sainthood, and ready for the reliquary.

”Under the Crown, no brothers”, that had been his own foolish dream.

The King, seeing Leon silent, his face unreadable, laughed and clapped him on the shoulder, comforting:

”Go to Lohenheim, enjoy yourself; be a lord of leisure, take a wife, get sons, would that not be a fine life? We envy you. We’ve never left Augustburg; Lohenheim We’ve seen only in dreams. The day We win back the Silver Shields from Voss’s hand, We’ll bring you back to Augustburg in state.”

Leon kept his face still; raised a hand, drew out the sheaf of papers that proved his innocence, and dropped them into the brazier beside him:

”Done.”