Lora of Two Worlds

Carl climbed the gate tower and startled Brendan, who'd just changed into mail:

"What are you doing here?"

"If you can come, why can't I?" Carl reached out to clap his brother's shoulder, but Brendan shook him off, coolly:

"Father said, once you put on mail, you're not an Odenheim lad anymore. You're a soldier of the Lohenheim garrison. Keep your hands to yourself."

Carl grinned and bowed:

"Thanks for the lesson, brother. I stand corrected. But what brings you here so conveniently? I drew my orders at the barracks and saw your name marked 'sick leave', yet here you're, standing gate watch."

"I was bored stiff. Came by to drink with Lucas. He's in a bind, so I filled in. No big deal." Brendan's face flickered, not quite steady.

"Weren't you supposed to be on patrol? Why come up here? If you're slacking off, I'll report you to Alvin."

Carl remembered why he'd come. He pulled his brother into the gatehouse, checked that no one else was about, and said:

"Brendan, we've had word. There's going to be trouble in the next day or two. Gareth and Roland are tearing the city apart looking for evidence. It's connected to whoever pushed Lil into the river. Alvin says all men-at-arms are on full patrol for the next two days, ready for anything "

"Had word? What word? Something this big and you kept it from me?"

Brendan was now certain this was what Cedric Salt had told him about. Panic, then a fury he couldn't hide, rose in his chest. He ground his teeth:

"Am I even part of this family? Word gets out, something happens, you move, and nobody tells me a thing! The one who took the whipping for you was me. And now the chance for glory goes to you instead!"

Carl was bewildered: What was Brendan raving about? They hadn't told him because he'd been home sick. And what was this about glory? The leads weren't even connected yet, how did he know it wasn't a disaster waiting?

"Brendan, what are you talking about? We didn't tell you because you were on sick leave "

"Sick leave? So what? You could still let me come put out the fire!"

"Fire? What fire?"

When Carl had left that morning, Roland had only just gone to meet Leon. The whole thing was still inference, those crates might be black powder, and they might have been moved into the Crown Granary, because they'd confirmed that Yorvik had just delivered several cartloads of royal levy into storage.

It matched Leon's past-life memory and Lora's dream warning, but nothing had been confirmed yet. So they hadn't told Carl.

"Nothing. Just an example." Brendan realized he'd let it slip and tried to brush it off. His mind was elsewhere now. "Go do your patrol. Don't come crying to me if the provost catches you slacking."

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"Fair enough. I'm off. I told you what I came to tell you, be the bigger man, let it go."

Carl's good humor returned. He figured his brother was just venting, he'd done it before.

He waved and left the gate tower.

His patrol route today was the north of the city. The wards here were packed with common folk, the same size ward that held one or two noble houses in the south might have five hundred families crammed together up here.

Merchants, craftsmen, tradesmen. And they weren't even the worst off. Beyond the moat, outside the walls, lay a poverty the splendor of the capital tried not to see.

Carl led his patrol into the first ward and found a crowd, noisy and thick. He pushed through:

"Watch coming through! Make way!"

The onlookers, cracking roasted nuts, didn't budge: "Watch? So what? There're watchmen inside too, all right."

Fine, won't move? I'll shove through.

He shouldered his way to the front and saw Gareth, hands on hips, standing in the yard of a tiny chapel.

He couldn't go inside, it was a small chapel to the healing saints, Cosmas and Damian. No resident monk; the faithful kept the candles lit and the floors swept on their own.

"Gareth! What's going on?"

Gareth glanced back at him and said, with no preamble: "Found her."

"Found her? You mean Aprille?"

For two days Gareth had done nothing else. He'd said it himself: alive or dead, he'd find her. Carl's face darkened:

"Animals. She went into the The Gilded Lily, and her body turns up in a healing chapel "

"Kid, did I say body?" Gareth was looking more relaxed than he had in days.

He sighed: "She's alive, barely. Whether she stays alive is up to her luck. I searched the wrong direction. This was the last place on the north side. There's a dry well behind the chapel, covered with a stone slab, takes four men to move it. If I'd hesitated even a little, I'd have missed it."

"She's in the well? Alive? Is she conscious?"

Good news, if so.

"When we pulled her up she had one breath left. They'd thrown her brother in first, he was underneath. He's dead. The physician is inside working on her. Can't fit many people in there, I came out for some air."

Gareth had barely finished when a man-at-arms poked his head out:

"Lord Gareth, Lord Carl, Aprille's awake!"

The two brothers exchanged a look. Joy broke through on both their faces. They strode into the chapel.

When Aprille opened her eyes, the first thing she saw was the painted stare of Saint Cosmas.

She turned her head, and saw her brother lying beside her, still and breathless. She screamed and sat up, crawling toward him:

"My brother, you can't die!"

Her sisters had all been indentured into great houses. The family's one hope was her brother, to care for their parents in their old age. For his sake, she'd betrayed her mistress and done terrible things.

And now her brother was dead anyway.

"Aprille, if you'd told us the truth that day, we might have had time to save him." Gareth's voice was level:

"It's not too late now. At least let us avenge him. House Odenheim will give you a sum, enough to go home to your family in the country, openly, and look after your parents."

Aprille raised a chalk-white face to the two young lords, tears streaming:

"That day on the barge, I heard the splash. I saw Grace Venn hurrying from the bow, looking stricken. I tried to go to the young lady, but Theodore Venn stopped me. My brother had lost at dice and was down below shouting for money. Grace's maid went down and lured him aside.

Grace threatened me, if I breathed a word, she'd kill my brother on the spot. But if I watched the young lady for them, and reported if she started to remember, then they'd... they'd give us travel money and let us run "

"Theodore Venn!"

Carl's face twisted with rage. His hand clamped on his sword hilt, knuckles white. He was one step from drawing the blade and cutting someone down.

"Alan, stay here. Wait for the Sheriff's men. Have them take both bodies to the city mortuary."

Both bodies?

Aprille, Alan, and Carl all froze.

Gareth pointed at the man-at-arms behind Alan: "You, take off your cloak and cap. Give them to her."

Aprille was in nothing but her chemise. Her outer gown had been stripped off at the The Gilded Lily and burned. If she'd rotted in that well with nothing to identify her, who would ever know it was her and her brother?

Carl understood.

It wasn't time to show their hand yet.

The Venns deserved to die, so let them die thoroughly.

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