Lora of Two Worlds

The bandits below had taken heavy losses. The survivors dared not charge. One of them shouted something, and they began fighting in retreat, backing toward the hillside. There were still men up there. They couldn't be allowed to regroup! Lora didn't wait for Shawn to rescue her. She grabbed the trunk and started sliding down. Hmm, in the zoo, pandas made this look effortless. Why wasn't the trunk slippery enough for her? Stuck at twice her height, Lora dangled to say the least. Leon was fighting near the second and third carriages. Roland had asked him to watch Lora, but she'd been in the tree, safe, so he'd focused on the melee. Now he saw her trying to descend, and stuck. He disengaged and started toward her. But the bandit leader had spotted her too. He'd been carrying a body on his shoulder, glaring at the Turkic men with hatred. Now, a helpless girl in a tree. Revenge served on a plate. He dropped the body. Raised his blade. Charged at the trunk where Lora hung, unable to fight, unable to dodge. Leon couldn't reach her in time. He threw his sword down, snatched the bow from his back, drew and loosed, one fluid motion. The arrow struck the bandit in the back, just as he reached the tree. Corin arrived a heartbeat later, one stroke took the man's head. The remaining bandits screamed and fled uphill. Corin looked up at Lora: "Jump, I'll catch you!" Lora looked down. Two meters, maybe. "Step aside. I'll jump myself." Corin checked the ground, no sharp rocks. Arms on hips, grinning: "Jump, then. Let's hope the form is graceful." Lora released the trunk. She slid, faster now, too fast, dropped, landed, her feet buckled, she sat down hard, flat on her back. Corin howled: "I thought you were a great warrior. Turns out, your specialty is falling on your back." "Thanks for saving me." "Not me." Corin kicked the headless corpse: "Someone shot him first. Askar doesn't steal credit. That arrow was someone else's." "Corin, look. There're still many men up on the mountain. If they regroup, the next attack will be worse." Lora pointed at the figures moving on the slope. Corin watched the retreating bandits and shook his head: "Too late to stop them. They're many, the ground is narrow. We wait for them to come to us. Go find Lord Roland. I'll clear the roadblock." He pressed his sword into Lora's hand, called his Turkic men, and ran. Leon, watching from a distance, saw Corin had gotten Lora down. He was heading over when Roland and Faye arrived: "Leon, you're all right? Where's Yangyang?" "I'm fine. She's... coming." "Yangyang!" Faye ran to meet Lora. "Faye, are you hurt?" Then Lora remembered: "Did you hear the bandits shouting? Who are they?" "I heard. Sounded like Turkic, but the accent was Teuton Clans." One of the Askar men, picking up weapons, smiled: "The lady's right. Teuton Clans. They joined the steppe khan against us, drove us off the grasslands. Then they had to submit to the khan too." "Why are they here? As bandits?" "Probably came south along the Yanshan range, looking for a place to settle." He pointed ahead: "Ask Corin. His mother was our late chief's wife. His brother led us these past years, but his mother was the one truly in command behind the scenes. Corin knows more than any of us. We follow him." "Are Corin's mother and... brother here in Yorvik?" He shook his head: "His brother died. His mother and the rest of the house are in Yorvik. We want Corin to lead us." Now Lora understood. That day at the Shrine of the Two Lords, the Turkic men had called him "bastard." Corin was young. His mother, widowed, had taken up with her husband's brother or kinsman. Corin was the son of that union. His half-brother had inherited the chieftainship, but died young. Now the house wanted Corin. His mother was the soul of this remnant band. And Corin, still growing, was trying to become worthy of her place. "Brother, there're still many people up on the mountain. They seem to be felling trees on the south slope. We need to move, if they come back with reinforcements, we'll be fighting again." The roadblock was nearly cleared. Lora urged Roland. Faye had said "Teuton Clans." Leon had been thinking. Teuton Clans in Yorvik, a name long faded. He'd heard it somewhere... He caught Roland's arm, smiled slightly: "The ones who retreated, that's all of them. And they've lost their two most important men." He walked to the headless corpse, kicked it onto its back. Linn saw it too, crouched, unfastened the man's belt, handed it to Leon. Leon rubbed the inlay on the belt with his thumb. Gold, set with gemstones. Linn turned over the other corpse, the one the Teuton Clans man had been carrying. Plain belt, but a small dagger hung from it, heavy, exquisite. No ordinary cutting knife. Leon was sure now. Yorvik had a pair of Teuton Clans brothers who'd taken to the mountains, raiding Gibford and Plainford for years. The domain had used them as an annual excuse to request "pacification funds" from the crown, and never actually sent troops. The brothers had grown stronger. Three years from now, Yorvik would finally march in and wipe them out, and claim a commendation for it. The gold dagger and the jeweled belt went to Roland. He was awed by Leon's eye, but puzzled: "But Lora saw many people up there. What if there're more than two leaders? And with so many bandits, we'll take casualties." "Those are captives, travelers seized for forced labor. They only arrived here recently. They mean to build a stronghold. That takes hands." Leon spoke as if he'd seen it with his own eyes. Roland said: "Then we go up and finish them. Free the captives. Remove the threat." Decision made. Fulke and Corin took the uninjured men uphill. The rest drove the carriages through the pass and waited in the open ground beyond. Lyle carried two round heads by the hair, following the mountain party. Linnie and Faye shrieked. "Lady Faye, how's your father?" Roland asked. Faye, grateful: "The bleeding's stopped. Bandaged. He's resting in the carriage. Thank you, my lord, you saved us both." "Too kind. Traveling together, we look out for each other." In the fighting, Horn had taken a wound to the arm. Faye had thrown herself over her father, nearly killed by a bandit. Roland had intervened in time. Faye pulled Lora toward the carriage, whispering: "Yangyang, your brother... you said he wasn't married. Has his family arranged a match?" "Ah? Don't tell me you've taken a " "No, no, my father... told me to ask..." "Oh, I see. Go tell your father: the Odenheims aren't like that. Saving a life doesn't mean the girl has to marry the savior. Tell him to rest and heal." These ancients, so stubborn. Lora patted Faye's hand, magnanimously. Faye: ...

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