Lora of Two Worlds

That night, the brave men sat around the bonfire outside the tents. Skinning tigers. Eating tiger meat. The bones went to Horn, tiger-bone wine, worth a hundred times its weight. The two pelts, the Turkic men's prize. Leon thought none of that compared to his own gain: His little cousin, kneeling beside him, head bent, carefully packing crushed dandelion onto the wound where the tigress's fang had scraped his hand. He couldn't see her eyes. Only her lashes, motionless, as if the slightest glimpse of uncovered wound would let a tiger spring from it. The fine down at her temples, the softness of a girl who'd never been married. Leon felt an urge to reach out and touch it. "Pass the cloth strip." Leon collected himself. Handed her the prepared bandage. As she wrapped his hand, she said: "Don't get this wet for two days. Watch for redness or swelling. Animal bites, small wounds can turn serious. I'll change the dressing tomorrow." "Mm. Understood." Leon obeyed. Lora packed up her supplies and was about to leave when Faye came in with a plate of roast tiger meat: "Come try it, tiger meat! So rare. Even being scared was worth it.  Father says the male was a ten-year-old in his prime. One-on-one, we'd never have beaten him. We were so lucky... Here, eat! I'll get more!" Faye vanished again. "Ah... my hand..." Leon raised his bandaged right hand. Lora looked at the tent entrance: "Where did those two go?" "Eating roast meat. Or... since no one's here, you could feed me?" "Well... all right." Lora pretended not to see the triumphant gleam in his eye. She fed him two pieces of meat. When Faye came back with another plate, Lora slipped away. Outside the tent, Linn and Lyle, each holding a plate, sat eating with relish. She couldn't help laughing: "Do you two still have a lord? Stuffing your faces out here, go in and feed him!" Faye came out, grabbed Lora, and ran. Tomorrow they'd be on the road again, no more leisure. Linnie's group, to save time, had traveled through the night and reached Highgarden. Seeing that none of the mining engineers had returned, Lora knew the coal shaft had succeeded. Yannic Xavier was also pleased. Black stone was silver. He heard that Horn was planning a salt pan on the coast. If it succeeded, he'd take all of the lord warden's coal, coke it, and resell. Faster profits. Horn was delighted: "General Yannic, rest assured. Your coal leaves the ground, I handle transport.  No need for you to lift a finger. I'll settle the big accounts with you, and handle the small ones too. No third party will know." "Lord Horn, we're old friends. Your guest house, I've always looked after you..." "Indeed, indeed..." One night. Everyone satisfied. Wine and meat all around. Lora wrote out, in duplicate, for Corin and Horn, the methods for secondary coal processing, iron processing, salt refining, and how to sink shafts to a hundred zhang. These were techniques from centuries later. She was letting them quietly take root in this desolate fishing village. She'd thought about jumping straight to modern technology. But with what? These conditions? She couldn't build a steam engine from mud and sticks. Corin had told his twenty Turkic brothers of Lora's plan. He'd shown them the technical manuscripts, translated by Faye. Some could read Turkic script. They read, and couldn't believe the Askar's fortune had fallen from the sky. They knelt under the stars, praying to the forefathers' saints. Thanking them for sending a goddess to lead the Askar back to glory. "Three hundred warriors? Corin, I'm coming!" Corin smiled: "Half the land here, the lady has given us. We'll guard our half, and the whole city.  No one will be allowed to destroy it. Think of the day we return in triumph, this is our home." "Can my parents really settle in Highgarden?" someone asked. Corin smiled: "Half the land here, the lady has given us. We'll guard our half, and the whole city. No one will be allowed to destroy it. Think of the day we return in triumph, this is our home." People who have a home never lose their way. These wanderers, lost on the steppe, had found their home in the Empire. The Turkic boys dreamed aloud: "Cut timber. Build houses. Pasture sheep on the grass..." "Sheep, sheep, sheep, is that all you think about? The lady has something more valuable!" "No sheep, then what do we eat?" Everyone laughed, full of hope. At gray dawn, the energetic young men rose to break camp. Then Lyle finally found what had been nagging him. But it was the staff officer's horse, he asked Yannic Xavier, who hemmed and hawed. Lora came out, her things packed. She'd never mastered fancy updos, she'd braided her hair in a single plait, like Corin's: "Lyle, what are you looking at?" "My lady, I've been wondering. Why do the household guards' horses sound different from ours? On hard ground, 'teka-teka', crisp and clear." Horseshoes. Lora understood. The central Empire had never excavated horseshoe evidence. Everyone thought they didn't appear until a later era. But Lora was from 2020. The year she crossed over, the earliest horseshoe find in the realm had been unearthed, dated to the late old era. Northern steppe peoples had known horseshoes for ages. She smiled: "Go get Corin. I'll tell you." You know this too? Lyle was no longer surprised. Lora saw that Leon's tent was still up. She went in, asked Linn for paper and quill, and drew a U-shaped object. Lyle and Corin arrived. Lora showed them the drawing: "Corin, have you seen these curved iron plates nailed to horses' hooves?" Corin started: "How do you know about this? That's a horseshoe.  I've seen them. But they wear out, you replace them. We used to have them when we had our camp. Once we started following the north wind, no more. It's... a secret we don't share with outsiders. Where did you learn this?" "The Yorvik household guards are using them. They've got steppe or khanate backing?" Lora guessed. She grinned at Lyle: "Lyle noticed it. I just happened to know." Leon, in the tent, suddenly felt anger. The Empire had been so generous to the marcher lords, and they'd hidden a scrap of iron as their private edge! He said coldly: "So the steppe horses outfight ours, partly because of this?" "Horseshoes are hard to invent. But once you understand them, any blacksmith can make them. Don't worry. We'll have more iron. We'll shoe our own cavalry." Lora reassured him. "Yes. Our cavalry." Leon smiled.

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