Lora of Two Worlds

From the moment Wyman dragged her onto the boat, Lora hadn’t struggled. That made Wyman think she was paralyzed with fear. She rolled her eyes again, upward. Leon nodded.

Her hand was already on Wyman’s forearm. She tucked her chin slightly, creating a sliver of space between his arm and her throat.

Wyman was much taller. His arm hung down, his hand at her collarbone. Lora counted three. Then she did something no one expected:

Her right hand locked onto Wyman’s left, tiger’s mouth to tiger’s mouth, and she pivoted left. Her throat slipped free of the dagger.

Wyman started to yank his trapped arm back, to grab her again with his right

Leon dropped from the roof.

Lora’s pivot threw her into his chest. One hand covered her eyes and half her face. The other drove the dagger, without hesitation, into Wyman’s armpit.

Even so, at Lora’s height, she felt blood spatter her cheek.

That hand... cool, and the bones distinct...

Leon passed her to Roland. He walked over and kicked Wyman’s prone body aside.

Wyman wore black, no bloodstains visible. But frothy blood bubbled at his mouth. He twitched twice and went still.

”Don’t be afraid. It’s over.”

Roland, aching that his sister had been held so long and stayed so clear-headed, held her close, propriety be damned.

From the far bank came the sound of fighting. Even He was moved:

In that short a time, how had Alvin done it?

Linn and Lyle had seen the torch signals across the canal. They’d taken men in a small boat, crossed in the dark, and circled behind the bandits who’d come to rescue Wyman. They’d waited for Leon’s strike.

Twenty-odd bandits joined their chief in death.

”Alvin, I yield. This was all your doing.” He bowed. His men could have caught Wyman, but not the men across the river.

”They attacked the royal envoy’s convoy. I was doing my duty as escort, not helping you.”

Alvin smiled. They’d done it for their sister. He didn’t need He’s gratitude.

The marcher lords had no friendships between them. Today’s ally was tomorrow’s enemy. Better not to owe favors.

He understood. He laughed:

”Good man! I need to take this corrupt justice back for a night trial. Farewell.”

After He left with Yannic, they remembered someone. Alvin returned to the passenger boat and found Linnie standing by von Klein. The envoy pointed to five chests:

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”Deputy Commander, I’d like you to have these delivered quietly to the county justice’s office. Without revealing who sent them.”

They were just passing through. Less trouble was better. As long as they weren’t dragged into Weybrook politics, fine.

Alvin glanced at the expressionless Linnie, nodded, and went to arrange it.

Lora followed Roland back to the stern boat. She scanned the guards, looking for someone. Disappointed.

”Brother... the one who saved me. Was it Leon?”

”You saw?”

”His legs... how are they healed?”

”Sigh. I’ll tell you. He’s had rotten luck. Falsely accused of rebellion, to get out of the Princes’ Quarter in Augustburg, he broke his own legs. Made the King stop suspecting him. The day you fell in the river, he’d just arrived in Lohenheim. We’d arranged to meet on a pleasure boat.”

”He was on the boat that day? You were together?”

”When we arrived, his legs were hurting. He’d gone back to the Grand Princess’s mansion. I only saw him later, back at the mansion.”

What a coincidence.

Lora pressed: ”When did his legs heal?”

”They’re not fully healed. He says the knee still spikes with pain sometimes. Listen: if this gets out, Leon dies. And our two houses go down with him.”

Lora smiled: ”Do I look that stupid? He saved my life, and I’d betray him? Tell him: when he’s time, let me look at his legs. Maybe a blind cat catches a dead mouse.”

”Calling him a dead mouse is fine. Calling yourself a blind cat?”

Roland saw his sister’s mood lighten and relaxed:

”Your dance today helped him a lot. Don’t worry about owing him. Wash up and sleep. There’re guards outside.”

After Roland left, Lora changed into the clothes she’d bought in town. She took out scissors and needle and thread, and by lamplight, altered a guard’s tunic to her size.

She’d washed her face. But the feel of his large hand on her face wouldn’t go away.

Why does this feel so familiar?

She drew a red cord from under her collar and pulled out the Twin Medallion.

She’d worn it openly during the Cold Hearth festival, no one had claimed it. Before leaving, she’d had Margaret braid a red cord and hung it around her neck.

Was Leon the owner of this medallion?

She slipped off the Rose Needle, drew it out to full length, and tapped the medallion gently:

”Little Rose, little Rose, you can find pressure points. Can you find the owner of this medallion?”

Beyond the Rose Needle’s service range. It sat there, inert. But Lora noticed, another stamen tip had turned red.

When she’d been treating Norton, she’d watched the stamens closely. No change.

So, Norton was fully cured.

Could the Rose Needle only be used nine times? Or would something change after the ninth?

She finished altering the guard’s tunic and fell into a deep sleep.

In the forward cabin, Leon and the others had barely stepped through the door when Green came forward with a smile:

”My lord’s back? You and the He family, what a coincidence. First day in Weybrook, and you run into the marcher duke’s eldest son.”

There was something in his tone. Leon sat down, poured himself a cup of water, and said evenly: ”What of it? You know the He family well?”

”How could I? A rankless chamberlain like me... But tell me, now that the He family rules Weybrook, how do you think the relationship between Weybrook and the crown stands?”

Loaded.

”Hayes Jensen became marcher duke. First two years, cleaning up the mess. Now they’re preparing to resume tax payments to the crown.

The King favored his daughter, Lady Hale. Unfortunately, she died young. The King gave her a consort’s funeral honors. A comfort to the family.”

”What if Duke He learned that his daughter didn’t die of illness, but was murdered?”

Leon hadn’t seen that coming.

”Early this year, you were set up. Voss used it to purge a batch of palace maids and attendants close to the King. Lady Hale, relying on her father’s military power, confronted Voss to his face. The next day, Voss found a pretext and forced the King to have her poisoned.

The King feared Duke He. He didn’t dare bury the poisoned, blackened, body in the royal tombs. He substituted a corpse and had the real Lady Hale taken to a pauper’s field to be burned. I was the one who arranged her remains.

I was afraid that one day the truth would come and the He family would demand the body for verification. So I didn’t actually burn her. I buried her somewhere. I’ve drawn the location.”

He handed Leon a paper, a sketch of the pauper’s field, with the burial spot marked.

Leon understood. This was Green’s loyalty oath, and his wedge to drive between the He family and the King.

Let the fishes fight. Leon would reap.