Lora of Two Worlds

However the men had talked it over, by the time they reached Lyme County that evening, everyone was buzzing. Hayes Hadrian had found the county justice. He took Roland and a few guards up Lyme Mount to hunt. Leon, a homebody raised in palace quarters for twenty years, found the call of the hunt irresistible. But late spring was when beasts had young, and the mothers were fierce. They were up and down the mountain in an hour and a half. No lingering. By the time Lora had Shawn and Keane process the pork and mutton bought at the county market, the hunters returned, carrying two muntjac deer. Lora had only seen these protected animals in a zoo. Watching someone butcher one, and then having to cook it, was rather intense. Leon walked up beside Lora, who stood at the back of the crowd, peeking at the butchering. She wanted to look and didn't want to look at the same time. He handed her a fine steel dagger: "I's a belt ornament, shorter blade, prettier handle. Suits you. When you have time... I can teach you how to kill with one stroke." "Like you did last night?" "I thought... you hadn't noticed." She hadn't brought it up since. He'd assumed she'd been too terrified to register it. Roland came over and clapped Leon on the shoulder: "Private chat?" "What private chat? Your cousin asked if the grass beads were sorted. Shawn's already taken them to Linn. Your cousin walked a lot today, his blood vessels are open. Good time for the treatment. And here's his payment." Lora waved the dagger, lifted her chin, and walked back to the stern cabin. That night, they didn't use the iron plate. They built a bonfire on the bank and spit-roasted the whole muntjac. Von Klein didn't come off the boat. They sent roast meat to the passenger boat. Lora, on the cargo boat, got two pieces, one large, one small. After a while, Lora was surprised when Linnie came aboard. She curtsied to Lora at the gunwale: "My lady, we agreed I'd be your student. I've come to perform the teacher ceremony." Lora had forgotten about the dance lessons. Seeing Linnie composed and poised, she asked: "Your father was taken away last night. You... don't want to ask how he's?" "He's not my real father. He's a distant cousin. He only adopted me to send me to court." Linnie said evenly: "Besides, even if I asked, could I change anything? Better to plan for myself. Leave that little place behind." "Well... that's true." Lora had sliced the meat thin, dusted with pepper and cumin. She handed Linnie a knife and a spoon. "Are you still set on Augustburg? With your new godfather?" "Is there a better place in the world than Augustburg? A more powerful man than the King?" Linnie had a fixation. She was beautiful. She'd studied song, dance, etiquette, all to become the most exalted woman in the Empire. In her mind: men seized power; women conquered powerful men. Thinking of how, in her former life, this obsession had led Linnie to conspire with Prince Ambrose and a chancellor, reaching from the royal household into the court, Lora didn't find her words strange. She smiled, ate a piece of meat, swallowed, and said casually: "I'm different. Rather than chase fleeting power, I'd rather hold on to lasting happiness." "Being stuck with that old general can't be easy, can it?" Lora nearly spit her ale. She'd forgotten, last night her brother had called her their father's "pet." She mumbled: "It's not easy. Everything I want to do, I have to hide from him." Linnie brightened: "Then make plans early. I saw those two young Odenheim lords, they both seem taken with you. Don't decide yet. The more you string them along, the more they won't let go." "Alas!" Lora sighed on purpose: "What good is liking? My position doesn't allow..." "Oh, come on. They dared bring you out, you think they'd care about position?" Liniyang laughed, covering her mouth. Charming. No wonder the King had been besotted, killing his own son for her... Wait. Leon didn't know her future. Yet last night he'd schemed to bring her along. Was he also smitten? Tsk. Men. Not to be trusted. A night of drinking and roasting. Hayes Hadrian and Roland were calling each other brother. At the end, arms around each other's shoulders, they stumbled into the forward cabin. Leon, whose cover was a guardsman, couldn't very well squeeze in. Roland said: "You bunk in the stern cabin with my sister. It's fine, there's cargo between you. You won't see each other." He meant: grain sacks in the middle. Sleep on either side. Lie down, and you can't see a thing. Leon thought that Lora's eye for people was sound. Hayes Hadrian was worth knowing. Lora knew, this man would rule Weybrook for twenty-seven years. The longest-reigning marcher duke in the records. His memorial stele still stood. At dawn, as the anchors came up, Hayes Hadrian stood on the bank, waving. Leon, who'd spent the night on deck squeezed among guards, Linn or Lyle had pinned his arm all night, couldn't raise it to wave. But in his heart: It won't be long. Until we meet again. Past Watchford, the canal was still in Weybrook territory. The deputy garrison commander who'd ridden with them gave them free passage, all the way to Berenford, Weybrook's northernmost county. After the deputy left, the boats didn't move. Alvin told von Klein they needed to buy provisions. The convoy lingered at the Berenford posting house for half a day. In the stern cabin, Roland listened to his sister explain the Old Book of Stratagems.  Aside from eighth-set morning exercises and half-remembered military boxing, the Old Book of Stratagems were about all she could teach. At least the stories in each stratagem were ones she knew well. "The last stratagem is 'fleeing is the best option.' If you can't win, run. How's my strategy, brother?" Lora knew the Old Book of Stratagems was compiled centuries later, not yet written in this age. In the modern world it was required reading for business warfare. Roland read through his notes and shook his head: "This isn't strategy, it's tactics. Clever tricks for the field. If your enemy knows these tricks too, they can predict your moves. The Stratagems is about calculation, weighing odds, winning without fighting..." He looked at the girl, chin in hands, big eyes wide. He patted her head: "But these thirty-six are valuable, accessible, practical small cleverness. Good. Worth it." Lora swayed, grinning. They were going over the notes when a head poked through the cabin door. Lyle, peering in. "Back?" Roland saw him, folded the paper into his tunic, and stood. Lyle, grinning, set a sack on Lora's low table. Without a word, he followed Roland out. Lora knew, Leon had taken them into the city after lunch. Back already? They must have gone to eat something good in town. She opened the sack, early-ripening plums. Her mouth watered. She took one, wiped it on her sleeve, bit in. Sour, with a thread of sweet. Hmph. Went to eat good food in town and didn't invite me!

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