Lora of Two Worlds

The rebel’s fury had another root.

The Crown Granary raid, led by Theodore Venn, had failed. The grain, silver, and spring uniforms the crown had now sent weren’t enough to reward the household guards who’d put him in power.

Acting governor was a temporary title, not a real appointment. If he couldn’t meet his guards’ demands, they’d turn on him.

His only option: provoke a crisis with the crown. Unite the guards against an external enemy. Drown out the embarrassment of unmet promises.

Alvin had already met Sheffield, the garrison commander. Sheffield had received Leon’s letter the day before. Half-believing, half-suspicious, afraid of a trap.

Then Alvin had produced the proxy seal, the ”Envoy of the King” warrant, and staked his own name:

”I’m deputy commander of the Lohenheim garrison. If this were only a warrant delivery, would I escort it personally? The King knows the rebel means to turn. That’s why we’re here, in secret. You’re the man to replace him.”

”Is this your idea, or the King’s?”

”Sheffield, you joke. How could I meddle in Yorvik’s military affairs? If one day I’m posted to Yarrowvale or Yewin, I’d hope to count on your friendship.”

Sheffield’s expression shifted. He pressed: ”What? The King still dares send a man to Yewin?”

The Duke of Yewin, the one the household guards had installed. The crown had accepted him.

”Of course,” Alvin said, dismissive: ”In the King’s eyes, only the three northern domains may choose their own. Yewin? He’ll be dealt with soon enough.”

At that, something changed in Sheffield’s face.

He knew, the rebel was more popular than he was. Now wasn’t the time. But with the crown’s backing... different story.

”Let me think.”

”This is a powder keg. The rebel can’t avoid the envoy forever. When the warrant is read, that’s your moment.”

Roland had only a few dozen men. In Yorvik city, killing them would be like crushing a bug. Sheffield was drawn by the prize, and by the need to prove wrong those who’d called him mediocre. He gritted his teeth:

”Fine. When the warrant is read, he’ll summon us. I’ll gather my men. At the first sign, my men enter the palace. We strike when he’s not expecting it. Kill him!”

Alvin had barely left Sheffield’s house when Lyle, tailing Cedric Salt and a kinsman, arrived. On the roof, he’d heard Cedric Salt shouting inside.

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This new development, how could Alvin and Leon, back at the guest house, have known?

They hadn’t even managed to get to the boats. The rebel’s guards had arrived.

Von Klein had thrown a cup, denounced the Yorvik authorities for their rudeness, demanded to return to his boats. The guards drew swords.

With blades at his throat, von Klein finally believed: Leon’s intelligence was real. The rebel’s treachery needed no fig leaf.

Now the governor’s palace was a drawn bowstring. Alvin thanked heaven that Leon had thought ahead, winning Sheffield as a replacement.

A fallback. A substitute. But enough to break the crisis.

Alvin was still pressing the rebel, buying time for Sheffield. But Leon noticed: two household generals had charged in. Sheffield wasn’t among them.

”Change of plan. He’s not here.” Leon whispered to Roland.

Roland’s brow tightened. No reinforcements. No way to fight. Fifty men. Two or three hundred guards in the court, every one a giant, armed to the teeth, elite Yorvik troops.

Two-to-one odds were bad. Six-to-one, he couldn’t bluff that.

And how many more guards were outside? He didn’t need to count.

”No archers deployed. We won’t die yet.” No chance to confer. Roland said it low, then stepped forward:

”Lord Warden, the King has let you act as governor. Sooner or later, the title will follow.

We came through the city today, bustling, prosperous. A great domain deserves a great lord’s bearing. Harassing the envoy? That won’t sound good.”

He was talking to the rebel, but also signaling Alvin: the plan has changed. The rebel said nothing. Roland pressed on:

”Northmarch has had drought for years. The south can barely supply grain. Yorvik doesn’t pay taxes to the crown, one less domain to feed is a relief for the crown. But for Yorvik, it’s one less backer.”

He’d shifted the ground to military supply, what the guards cared about. The rebel wavered:

Maybe he didn’t need to kill the envoy. A show of force against Jardine would do just as well.

”Cedric Fenwick, receive the warrant. Escort the envoy out.”

A guard stepped forward. Von Klein stole a glance at Leon. Leon nodded faintly. Von Klein handed over the warrant.

Everyone breathed out.

Alvin waved his men forward, shielding von Klein, heading for the gate. Ten paces from the door, the rebel changed his mind:

”Hold!”

Von Klein’s heart nearly broke. Roland turned back. The rebel ordered:

”Kill all the guards.”

That was it. The envoy and the Odenheim brothers couldn’t be killed. But fifty guards? That would teach the King.

Von Klein went pale. The guards couldn’t die, the prince was among them. He cried:

”Lord Warden, show mercy! The envoy’s guards are the crown’s own face. If you persist, I’ll lay down my life before I let you touch my men!”

A household general sneered. A chamberlain, talking honor?

”You, a half-man, preaching integrity? Men! Kill him too if he gets in the way.”

Swords rang. Roland, Leon, and the guards drew their blades, back to back, tightening the ring. The household guards closed in.

Von Klein stared at Leon’s back. His lips trembled with fury. He walked, step by step, toward the rebel.

Alvin saw it. He strode forward, blocked von Klein’s path, and drew from his tunic the axe-shaped proxy seal. He raised it high:

”Who dares? The proxy seal is here, as the King himself present! Kneel!”

The Yorvik guards stared. Everyone knew the marcher duke’s seal, the token of his office, engraved with the crown’s chosen name. But this, ”proxy seal”? A fake? Since when?

Only the rebel and his two generals recognized it. One sneered:

”Proxy seal? We’ve served in Yorvik for years, never seen one. Since the old rebellion, the marcher lords acknowledge no proxy. Men, he’s bluffing with a fake! Kill him!”

Leon looked back. Alvin and von Klein, about to die, just as in his former life. His heart twisted:

Reborn, and still he couldn’t change their fate?