Lora of Two Worlds

Osler didn't fully understand how forests could influence rainfall in a region. But Leon's point about "rebuilding after the war, cutting down every tree" had struck a chord.

He hadn't considered this. Never mind the weather, if no trees were planted, what would his grandchildren have? And he'd felt it himself: a grove was always damper than bare ground.

He poured wine, walked to Leon, and looked at him properly. The young man's eyes were like deep mines, with a settled light that came only from having been through fire. No fear of high officials. No false humility. No arrogance.

Something in his bearing reminded Osler of the old King. Why think of the late King? Osler's mind wandered.

"Thank you, Duke." Leon bowed.

Osler smiled: "Lord Leon, a fine young man. I'm almost jealous of old Odenheim. His sons are outstanding, and even his guardsmen are exceptional. Let me drink to you!"

"Lord Leon", the name hit von Klein like a hammer. He looked up sharply: Of course, that's why he looked familiar. But how could it be...?

Leon raised his cup toward von Klein:

It was a risk. But he'd studied von Klein for years. In his former life, the man had died serving the crown, loyal to the Aurelian house, without personal ambition. Leon wanted to win him over.

And the man was close to the throne. Recruit him, and Leon gained a wing. Fail, and Leon would have to send him down his former-life path.

Von Klein's face flickered. Then steadied. Alvin saw it all. He raised his own cup:

"I've had the envoy's care all this way. My guardsmen have been bold, but they act only for the people. They want everyone to survive the famine years, that the realm may endure. House Odenheim's loyalty is pure. I beg the envoy's understanding."

So the Odenheims already...

Then von Klein's path was set. Unless he returned to Augustburg and reported at once, he'd be implicated. And could they let him return?

Von Klein had survived four reigns. He had his way: hold the line, give others room.

It was why he'd accepted Linnie so readily, Roland wanted her kept, and he needed the Odenheims.

He smiled and raised his cup to both Alvin and Leon:

"The deputy commander is too modest. The Odenheim house has men of talent. Just passing through Weybrook and Yarrowvale, and already doing good for the people. If I found fault with that, I'd be blind."

Osler laughed: "To see young men like this, the Empire has worthy successors. I could retire in peace... Oh, and the young lady who bests any man. Can't forget her."

Von Klein broke a sweat: Good thing I'd accepted!

"The Empire has worthy successors", did Osler mean...? By the same logic, Hayes Hadrian of Weybrook had been so friendly with them...

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Enough. They were all of the royal house. Descendants of the old King.

And Leon, he'd always been upright, well-loved. The King had feared him, used Voss to frame him for rebellion, stripped his title, broken his legs. Many at court mourned.

Von Klein, standing beside the throne, knew it all.

Now the King meant to raise up Kursall. But Voss's power remained. The two factions would clash. His old strategy, neutrality, had reached its limit.

The Duke of Zayne meant to show his hand. Either he'd kill von Klein, or recruit him. If he aimed for the throne, perhaps von Klein could counsel him. That seat wasn't easy to sit on...

After dinner, Osler rose to leave. Roland took Lora, Leon, and Lyle to see him off. Leon pulled several sheets from his tunic and handed them over:

"Duke, I've written down the drought remedies we discussed. There's also a diagram of how rain and river sustain each other. You'll see at a glance."

"You prepared this for me?" Osler was surprised. He took the papers. A guard brought a torch closer.

Leon shook his head:

"Not exactly. It includes observations from our journey through Weybrook. I merely record my thoughts as I go. But today, seeing the Duke work alongside his people, personally fighting the drought, and then seeking us out, I was moved. That gave me the courage to share."

Osler opened the pages. As described, notes, observations. Then two lines leapt out:

"Monastery statues: replace copper with stone. Stone and metal share a nature, no impropriety. And the crown may melt the recovered copper for coinage, increasing circulation."

"Monastic recruits: must be over forty. A young man who takes vows, his corvée and tax obligations transfer to his family. They're not erased."

Brilliant.

This wasn't original to Lora, she'd synthesized the best of the coming suppression and the later restoration, finding a middle path.

Osler clapped Leon's shoulder and laughed:

"Would you follow me to the marches and do hard labor? I'll write to old Odenheim this minute and demand he give me this talent!"

"Duke, you can't poach a man to his face." The brothers laughed. "Just remember us well. When you need something, it's more than a letter."

"Good! Then, safe travels. Lord Leon, young lady, when you have new ideas, write to me. I borrowed oxen from the crown this year. Grain and cloth must repay the debt."

Osler left, glowing, not like a man of sixty.

Lora was moved. In the common view, the late-Empire marcher lords were all self-serving, alienated from the crown. That wasn't the whole picture.

Hayes Hadrian, punishing the corrupt, catching bandits. Eugene Osler, loving his people, guarding the frontier. What could save the Empire wasn't Southland grain, or the mineral deposits in her memory. It was these men, loyal to the crown, capable of defending it.

After seeing Osler off, Lora hemmed and hawed.

Leon's eyes held a thread of amusement: She thinks I gave away her terrible handwriting. He said, slowly: "Don't worry. My handwriting is quite neat. The Duke could read it."

Hmph! So your handwriting is great, is it? Give me back my draft!

Muttering inwardly, Lora pattered off along the riverbank. Roland called after her: "Slow down! If you fall in the water again, you'll forget everyone."

Hm? That was a point...

Roland and Leon exchanged a look and hurried after her.

They'd barely reached the cabin when von Klein came aboard. He saw Leon and knelt:

"Your Highness! Many days on the same boat, these old eyes failed to recognize you."

"Rise. If I'd meant to hide from you, would I have let you see?"

Leon's words told von Klein what he needed: The prince meant to recruit him, not kill him. He asked:

"Your Highness, what's your purpose on this journey? Tell me, that I may know how to act."

"I've had word: the Yorvik rebel means to rise. I hear his imperial robes are already made. He waits for you to deliver the warrant. If you bring the seal of office, you return safely. If not, he'll take your head to defy the crown. Do you have the seal?"

Each word fell like a hammer. The rebel was only lord warden, where would he have the seal? Von Klein's voice shook:

"This... why not report to the King? You risk yourself, if harm comes, how can I bear it?"

"You think my brother the King would believe me?"

Von Klein was silent.

At last he looked up:

"Your Highness, I'm past fifty. I've served four kings, from your great-grandfather's time. I meant to counsel you to stay clear of trouble... You're a man of judgment, and of courage. I know what to do."

As he left, von Klein nodded to Green, standing in the corner.

Green's blood ran hot:

Voss, you old monkey. When we march back to Augustburg, you'll spit up every gold coin you took from my father!

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