Lora of Two Worlds

If Leon had so much as a single maid in his household, he wouldn't be in this fix.

Linn and Lyle passed the token back and forth, holding it up to the candle, tilting it this way and that. If it had been made of vellum, the candle would have singed it by now.

"I used to see that medallion every day. How did I never notice the pattern? Medallion patterns all look the same, I suppose..." Lyle muttered.

They'd never managed Leon's personal effects, no surprise they couldn't place it.

The ones who'd dressed and fed Leon back in Augustburg were two royal pages. They couldn't leave the capital, so they hadn't come along. The day Leon left, both had cried like children.

Leon felt for them, but at least in this life, they wouldn't have to follow him to an early grave. That was something.

"Pity the medallion's lost. The boat, the road, the carriage, nowhere. Must have fallen in the river..." Linn blamed himself. If he'd been able to swim, Leon wouldn't have gone in himself. The medallion wouldn't be gone. And Leon's leg wouldn't have that lingering weakness.

"All right, all right, I asked you to look, not to fill the room with regrets. Out. I'll lie down. Wake me when Felix gets back."

Lora slept till full daylight. She stretched and opened her eyes. The medallion, which had slipped down her sleeve in the night, slid onto her chest and startled her awake.

She pulled it out, looked at it, and had an idea. She bounced upright and asked Margaret, who was rolling up the bed-curtains:

"Margaret, after last night, my lying-in's over, right?"

"I wouldn't know, my lady. You'd have to ask the Count yourself." Margaret had just been to the kitchen for the morning light fare and knew the Count and the young lords had been up all night and only just returned.

"I'm not going near Father right now, he'll be in a mood. Asking would just get me snapped at. I'll go ask Mother."

After washing and dressing, Lora sat down at the table. Today's light fare was meat ravioli, ravioli, really, stuffed with mutton and pepper, said to drive out the spring chill.

It was true, though past Candlemas, the wind still bit.

Lora, in a green hooded cloak, cut through the rose garden, walked along the lily pond where the lotus leaves hadn't yet surfaced, and suddenly remembered the ornamental fish she'd told the serving lad to free.

She crossed through the garden pavilion to the low terrace by the water and peered in.

"My lady, be careful, the edge "

"Don't worry, I'm not that close."

She hadn't spotted the fish yet when a crash came from the garden, followed by a yelp: "Hey! Watch where you're going!"

"Sorry, sorry, my fault entirely, Nurse Quinn. Let me get that for you."

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The terrace was low. Lora and Margaret turned toward the sound. A maid with a bucket and ladle, watering the flowers, had bumped into a woman of forty or so and knocked the bundle she was carrying to the ground. Silver coins and clothing spilled out.

The maid, afraid the woman would be angry, scooped things up and said, admiring:

"Nurse Quinn, more gifts from the Countess? She does spoil you. Not every wet nurse gets treated like that."

"You've got it wrong this time. My service to this house is more than just nursing the young lord, I'll have you know. Today, today I did a great deed!"

Nurse Quinn preened. She picked up a string of beads and showed them off:

"Look at this, jet rosary from the palace. The Countess herself received only two purses. She gave one to me."

The maid, seeing Nurse Quinn wasn't cross, pressed on:

"The rest of us are dull heads. Who could match a saint like you, to win the Countess's favor? What great deed did you do? Tell me, so I can learn, maybe I can earn a good word from the Countess someday."

"Can't say. But you've got a sweet tongue, I'll tell you this much. It concerns the young lord the Countess dotes on most!"

Nurse Quinn gathered her bundle and walked off, beaming.

"Is she from this house?" Lora asked.

"She used to be, Lord Alvin's wet nurse. For her service, the Count found her husband a clerk's post at the sheriff's office, he'd had two years of schooling, and freed the whole family from indenture. She hasn't lived in the house for years."

A wet nurse. Why would Mother give her such a grand reward? And what did it have to do with Carl?

"Margaret, let's visit Carl before we go to Mother. His court's just ahead, isn't it?"

The brothers' courts were all quiet, either sleeping or not back yet. Lora walked into the one whose walls had no ivy growing on them.

"My lady, Lord Carl's been brooding in his room for ages..."

Aiden, Carl's serving man, greeted Lora like a lifeline. Carl rarely lost his temper, so when he was in a mood, the household didn't know how to handle him.

So something had happened.

Lora went in alone.

It was broad daylight, but the bed-curtains were drawn and the room was black. Lora walked to the inner curtain and was about to call out when Carl's voice came, cross:

"Out! Didn't I say, no one comes in unless I call?"

This unusual? Lora looked around, lit a candle, pulled back the curtain and walked in:

"I refuse. I want to see if you've got a wife hidden in this dark cave."

"Lora? What are you doing here?"

Carl sat up, still in his outer robe. He hadn't been trying to sleep at all.

Lora lifted his pillow and murmured: "Where's the wife? Under here?"

"What wife? And even if there were one, I wouldn't keep her under a pillow." Carl couldn't help laughing.

"Tell me. You said everything was fine, everyone was safe. What did you do wrong that's got you hiding in here?"

Lora pulled back the curtains. Light flooded the room.

Carl looked at his sister, startled. "Lil, you really do have second sight? How did you know I did something wrong? It's true... something that nearly turned into a disaster."

He couldn't tell anyone. It was eating him, because he didn't understand how he'd gone so wrong.

This serious? No wonder Mother had given Nurse Quinn such a pile of gifts.

"Uh... can you tell me? Maybe you're seeing it wrong?" Lora sat down in the chair by his bed.

With the window open, the room felt less close. Carl's mood had settled. He looked at Lora and smiled:

"Lil, since you've got second sight, tell me: the five of us brothers, what does the future hold?"

The truth was: across the vast river of history, the names and deeds that survived to modern times were a drop in the ocean. House Odenheim had one famous founder, Aldric of Ironhold, but his descendants' records were thin. How would she know the fates of men eight generations removed?

"You don't know either, do you?" Carl sighed.

Lora bristled: "At least I know this, the men of House Odenheim are pillars of the realm, every one of them. And the Empire didn't fall in their lifetimes."

"The Empire fall? Why would the Aurelian Empire fall?"

Carl laughed in spite of himself. He patted her shoulder:

"You're the best, Lil. Nobody cheers me up like you. I've missed my sleep window, I'm not tired anymore. Come on, let's go to Mother. I've been so busy I haven't paid my respects in two days."

"You haven't seen Mother today?"

"No, just got back. Meant to nap first, but with this on my mind, I couldn't. Good thing you came."

Watching Carl change his outer robe, Lora had a new question:

What exactly had Nurse Quinn told Mother? If something was truly wrong, wouldn't Mother have called Carl in to ask?

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