Lora of Two Worlds

Gray dawn. The rear courtyard was quiet. The barracks, already alive.

The Count was walking to the great hall when he saw Gareth coming from the storehouse. Norton and Shawn carried a set of new tack, listening to his instructions.

”What’s this? Skipping drill to fuss with a saddle?”

Gareth turned, smiled: ”Yesterday I got my sister’s gift, a Turkic blade, brought a thousand miles.

Today I’m returning the favor. I heard she’s learned to ride. The stables just got in dozens of steppe horses. I’m having Norton take her to pick a pretty mare.”

”No one else can go? Today the new brigade captains pick squad leaders. I wanted Norton to play challenger.”

”That’s a high bar. I’ll find someone else. Besides, the lady asked to borrow Norton for a few days. She needs Coltrain for something.” Gareth explained.

The Count walked on, hands behind his back. Grumbled: ”A girl, never stops. Who’ll marry her?”

”Does the General agree, or not?”

Gareth patted Norton’s shoulder, grinning:

”He grumbles behind your back but won’t say a word to her face. No objection means yes. Go on, don’t let her fall. Norton, your leave starts in five days. Take it after you’ve finished with the lady.”

Norton arrived at the tower chamber. His first time back since joining the barracks. He looked around, marveling at how his life had changed.

Chance, spending the day at the mansion, heard Norton’s step and charged out.

”That must be Norton.”

”Let him in. I’m almost done.” Lora was sketching. The floor was littered with crumpled attempts.

Norton entered, bowed. Lora beamed: ”Finished at last! Norton, you’re my lucky star. How are you feeling? Ears, and speaking?”

”G-g-good.”

”Huh, you haven’t been talking enough. You need to practice. Sit here, let me check you.”

”No, no, no need to check...”

Margaret and Lucy laughed: ”We saw him last night, spoke as smooth as you please. Norton’s just nervous seeing you, my lady.”

”Hey, this guy. In the tower chamber he was fine. A few months in the barracks and he’s gone shy?” Lora tapped the drawing on the table:

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

”Come over. Business.”

”On the outside, a wheelchair. Inside, a weapons system.” Lora tossed her head, proud.

Leon had told her he’d be back in the chair. She’d thought of the wheelchair-bound detective from a TV series, a man whose chair was full of hidden weapons.

”On the outside, a wheelchair. Inside, a weapons system.” Lora tossed her head, proud. Leon had told her he’d be back in the chair. She’d thought of the wheelchair-bound detective from a TV series, a man whose chair was full of hidden weapons.

Leon would be in that chair for a long time. Only at the final strike would he stand.

If he had a weaponized wheelchair, he wouldn’t feel vulnerable playing the cripple. He’d sit on an arsenal and look down on his enemies.

That was why she’d thought of Coltrain.

”Weapons?”

Norton studied the drawing. Lora had marked the armrests, footrests, and other spots with ink dots.

”These marks, hidden weapons? And this long bar by the wheels, what’s that?”

Focusing on the drawing, Norton’s speech normalized. Lora smiled inwardly: The Rose Needle says you’re healed. I was just asking.

”This lever links to the wheel mechanism. Flip it, the chair stops.”

”I understand the functions. Lord Gareth gave me six days. After we pick your horse today, I’ll go to the estate and find my godfather.

We’ll build the chair first. Then copy the systems into a sedan chair and carriage, that’ll be easier.”

That was all she remembered. She’d loved that TV show, watched it many times. Never thought she’d meet a real ”detective in a wheelchair.”

”I understand the functions. Lord Gareth gave me six days. After we pick your horse today, I’ll go to the estate and find my godfather. We’ll build the chair first. Then copy the systems into a sedan chair and carriage, that’ll be easier.”

”Wait, pick a horse? I’m home. Nobody said anything about a horse.”

Norton grinned, and there was the old Norton, the mute boy from the tower chamber:

”Lord Gareth’s return gift. The Lohenheim stables got in dozens of new horses. You’re to pick one you like.”

”I thought Gareth was cold, didn’t even come see me. And he remembered a return gift! Best brother ever.” Lora jumped up:

”Margaret, my cloak! Let’s go!”

Passing the old apple tree, Lora looked up. No Lyle. The other side of the wall was quiet.

Never mind, she’d tell Leon after the ride.

Out the side gate, Shawn and Keane had the carriage waiting. Inside, a new set of tack. Five people, cheerful, off they went.

It was late summer. St. Agnes’ Eve was approaching. On the street, shops hung festival kites, masks, illuminated cards, and embroidered trinkets, a riot of color.

Of all the waters in the world, I have my one cup.

Lora lowered the curtain. ”Margaret, in past years, who did I spend St. Agnes’ Eve with?”

”The girls from the convent school. Besides Dorothy Dunbar, you spent time with the Warenne and Wyman families’ daughters. But they’ve all gone to Augustburg this year.”

”Is Augustburg really that wonderful? Everyone wants to go.”

”Of course, it’s the true capital. These noble daughters are threads in their families’ hands, binding houses together.

The lady comes of age this winter. Before your mother left, she said it was a shame. A rare trip, and you’d miss the chance to meet young lords at court.”

”Then it wasn’t meant to be.”

They chattered softly. The carriage left the city gates.

The Lohenheim stables weren’t far. Between two hills, a broad river meadow, stretching to the rear of the right-battalion barracks.

Green hills, clear water, so much prettier than the gray of the northern domains.

Soon, the pasture fence.

The carriage stopped by two rows of stables. The first building, the stable master’s quarters. Shawn checked, empty.

”Maybe everyone’s in the paddock. My lady, wait here. I’ll find someone.” Norton tethered the horses and walked down the stable lane.

Two steps in, a murmur of voices. Many voices. As if everyone had been holding their breath.

”Does it have to be killed?”

Lora heard the voice, and bolted.