Lora of Two Worlds

Roland and the others waited a while longer before Lora stood up to say goodbye to the clerks. They all bowed to her with extravagant warmth. When she walked back to the group, Roland swatted the top of her cap and barked: ”Fess up! Who taught you to gamble?” ”Nobody! I, I had a dream. I dreamed up a game a lot like their ’tarocchi,’ so I was just comparing notes. It wasn’t like that, I did it to cover for you!” Lora pouted, looking thoroughly wronged. Roland couldn’t hold the stern face. He cracked up. ”All right, all right, I know you did it for your brother. Get in the carriage. You weren’t counted when we came in, and Belle’s stowed away on the cart too.” ”Wait, I don’t have to crawl back through the dog-hole? Sweet!” What on earth did ”sweet” mean? Never mind. Hearing the siblings laughing softly outside, Leon’s mood lifted despite himself. When the carriage curtain twitched open, he wiped the smile off his face. ”Hey, Baron? My lord? Sir?” Lora and Leon had met once before, but they’d never been properly introduced. She didn’t know what to call him. Leon shifted, awkward, then asked: ”What do you call Felix?” ”Felix.” ”Then you can call me... Leon. Same number of words.” Lora bit her lip hard to keep from laughing. Not only was his face wooden, the man talked like a plank. Chance wagged its tail furiously at her, both front paws on her knee, as if to say: Hey, second mistress! Over here! Look at Chance! Lora remembered the meat pies. She dug into her pouch and pulled out the oilcloth bundle, squashed flat. She unwrapped it. One pie left. The carriage was tight. Leon had nowhere to look, and his gaze drifted, almost against his will, to that last pie. Catching him stare, Lora hedged: ”Only one left. If you don’t want it, I’ll give it to Chance.” Leon nearly choked on his own spit. He coughed violently and shot her a baleful sideways glare: When did I say I wanted your pie? Am I supposed to fight a dog for its dinner? Near the granary gate, Sergeant Greene appeared with the Granary Bailiff waiting ahead. Greene eyed the unfamiliar men driving the cart with suspicion. Linn explained: ”They’re from the Grand Princess’s household. I ran into the Sheriff when I was buying ale, he sent them to help.” The Bailiff stepped to the carriage window and bowed with hand to chest: ”I, Huve, greets the Baron.” The carriage stopped. Outside, a stranger’s voice, Chance’s ears pricked, a rumbling growl building in its throat. But Lora was out of meat pies. Nothing to stuff in the dog’s mouth. She lunged, one arm around Chance’s body, the other clamping its jaws shut. She’d seen Norton do this. Chance thought it was a game and wagged harder, forgetting all about the stranger outside. From outside, no sound from the carriage. Huve caught Greene’s eye and tipped his head, go look. Then a cool voice from inside: ”No need for ceremony.” Huve, seeing that the curtain wasn’t going to open, straightened up, disappointed. ”Since the Baron has chosen the pieces himself, I won’t do a separate count. Men, take the manifest. Let them through.” Out of the Crown Granary at last, Lora let go of Chance. The dog took the chance to slurp her face. Lora, caught off guard, lost her balance, and grabbed Leon’s leg to keep from falling. Every muscle in Leon’s body seized. He very nearly kicked them both out of the carriage. Lora steadied herself and snatched her hand back. Then she noticed something strange. The Rose Needle on her finger, its petals were trembling. Quivering, like a flower in a high wind. Could the Rose Needle... cure his leg? Lora, ever the fixer, made a mental note: find a chance to ask about his leg someday. The tiny carriage stayed awkward. Lora lifted the curtain and watched the granary walls receding. ”I wonder if there’s any powder we didn’t find ” ”We’ve talked it over. We play along and wait for them to make their move, then net them all at once. Maybe even take some alive.” He paused, then went on: ”Stay out of what comes next. The fewer Odenheim people involved, the better. Your brothers will keep their distance too. The Lohenheim garrison is more than just the Count’s household troops, no need for any of you to square off against the Silver Shield directly. We’ve to guard against someone framing your house.” This was exactly what she’d been meaning to tell her brothers. After all, the histories recorded that the imperial troops hadn’t even dared to block the marauders, they’d stood there shaking and watched them ride away. This was exactly what she’d been meaning to tell her brothers. After all, the histories recorded that the imperial troops hadn’t even dared to block the marauders, they’d stood there shaking and watched them ride away. Something must have happened that the chronicles never set down. They drove along the granary wall for a stretch. Then Chance, without warning, bolted from the carriage. Lora yelped. The cart stopped. She lifted the curtain, they were at the dog-hole. Chance had scrambled out and reared up on its hind legs, flinging itself at its master in a full-body embrace. ”I ” ”You ” They spoke at the same time. Lora beamed. ”Leon, I’ll get off here. No need to go out of your way.” She hopped down nimbly. Through the fluttering gap in the curtain, Leon caught fragments: Lora talking to the mute lad, her voice low, her hands gesturing in wild, exaggerated shapes. The boy stood there, nodding like he’d been hypnotized. High-bridged nose, heavy brow, thick dark brows, large eyes, swarthy skin, foreign features, the look of the steppe or the Levant. He watched Lora with utter devotion on his face, but there was none of a servant’s cringing. High-bridged nose, heavy brow, thick dark brows, large eyes, swarthy skin, foreign features, the look of the steppe or the Levant. He watched Lora with utter devotion on his face, but there was none of a servant’s cringing. Leaving a man like that beside his little cousin, were the Odenheims being careless? Next time he saw Roland, if he remembered, he’d mention it. The road skirted the royal park. A left turn led to Newbridge. Across the river, the road became Long Summer Street. Two or three wards farther, and you were at the South Market, the largest marketplace in Lohenheim. Bridge traffic was heavy: small traders who lived north of the Loene but peddled their wares at the South Market. Norton tugged Lora’s sleeve. She followed his gaze, a youth on horseback sped past. ”Brendan? I thought he was still hurt, where’s he going in such a rush?” Lora was still watching his back when a voice called out behind her: ”Lil? What are you doing here?” She turned. Carl, in full mail, was staring at her, delighted. ”Carl?” She took in the men-at-arms behind him, looked him up and down, and nodded approvingly. ”Mail looks good on you. Way different from when you’re lounging around the house.” Carl’s left hand rested on the sword at his hip. He couldn’t very well swat her head on a public road in armor, so he reached up and tugged the strap under her chin instead. ”I’m only an ensign, long way from commanding anything. But since you’re sweet-talking me, I’ll bring you something good when I get back.” ”Sounds great. Carl, I just saw Brendan ride by. He healed up fast.” Carl frowned. ”He’s not on the duty roster today. And riding... Is he heading out of the city? Never mind, don’t worry about it. You head home. Norton, look after the young lady. Don’t let her wander off.” Lora walked away. Carl turned a hard face on the men-at-arms who were still watching his sister go: ”What are you staring at? Burn this into your skulls: that’s the Odenheim young lady. Anytime you see her in trouble, you step in. If you have to kill a man in the street, House Odenheim has your back. Got it?”