Lora of Two Worlds

The man clamped over Lora’s mouth from behind, dragging her into the trees on the bank.

She’d changed into her dance clothes, the hand-bow wasn’t on her arm. She was reaching for the Rose Needle on her finger when hoofbeats pounded from the road. A column of soldiers, torches high, bore down on the riverbank:

”He’s here! Search! Don’t let him escape!”

The soldiers on shore roused the boats. Through the branches, Lora saw someone come down from the boats to meet them.

”Who goes there? These are the boats of Lord Envoy von Klein and Deputy Commander Alvin Odenheim of the Lohenheim garrison. Justice Yannic is aboard. You won’t behave lawlessly here!”

That was Ashford’s voice. Lora thrashed, trying to make noise. The man showed no tenderness, his elbow struck the back of her neck, and she crumpled.

The lead rider hadn’t dismounted. Hearing ”Justice Yannic is aboard,” he snorted and swung down:

”Perfect. Hugh Xin, take the men and keep searching. I’ll go have a word with this Theo Yannic.”

”Royal envoy’s boat. Not just anyone boards.” Ashford blocked him.

The officer gave him a cold look: ”Alvin Odenheim wouldn’t dare stop me. What can you do?” He strode toward the passenger boat.

He had about thirty men. A fight wouldn’t favor the Odenheim men, but no one wanted a brawl on someone else’s turf.

Besides, the officer had used Alvin’s name like an equal, they knew each other. Ashford ran ahead to announce him.

”Spread out in a line! Walk down the embankment. Watch the riverbank. If you spot him, kill on sight!”

The man heard the orders. He was inside their cordon.

He looked down at Lora. Her pink-green jacket was too visible in the dark. He had to get her onto a boat, any boat. From the water, he could signal his brothers on the far bank.

Failing that, jump into the river. Better odds than the shore.

The woman was dressed richly. She’d been talking and laughing with officers on the boat. She could be a hostage.

He tore the veil from her face, wadded it, stuffed it in her mouth, and dragged her toward the nearest cargo boat.

The dragging brought Lora groggily awake.

While Ashford had gone to ask the officer’s business, Alvin had sent men to find Lora. Shawn and Keane came running from the stern boat: the young lady hadn’t come back!

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The officer boarded. Alvin recognized him at once:

”General He? What are you doing here?”

Hayes Hadrian laughed: ”Alvin, odd question. This is Weybrook. Why wouldn’t I be here? Better question, you’re a deputy commander. How’d you end up babysitting an envoy?”

Alvin cut the small talk: ”You came from the bank. Did you see a girl, fourteen or fifteen, in a pleated rose-pink skirt and a green jacket?”

”What, can’t keep your woman in line, and now you’re asking me for her?”

Hayes Hadrian was Weybrook’s garrison commander. He’d visited Lohenheim once with his father, the marcher duke, and knew Alvin from that trip.

”If she were my woman, I’d have chained her in Lohenheim. She’s not, she does what she wants. What if someone grabbed her...”

Alvin’s words wiped the grin off He’s face:

”I’m here to catch a criminal. If what you say is true, the timing fits.”

”Who?”

By now, everyone except von Klein and Linnie had come out of the cabin. He pointed at Theo Yannic:

”That’s what I’d like to ask Justice Yannic. I’ve been told the bandit chief Wyman, held in the shire jail under sentence of death, was released by the justice’s own hand. Two hundred innocent people in Jaxham, dead.”

Yannic bowed deeply, protesting: ”Injustice, General! I was only following the King’s ’prison-clearing’ decree. Wyman’s case went through proper procedure ”

”Bah! He was a condemned man, robbery, murder, waiting for autumn execution. You took the bandit’s silver, commuted his sentence, and let him walk.”

He had been inspecting defenses in a neighboring county when word reached him. He’d ridden hard to Watchford, tracked Wyman to a feast, and pursued him here.

The King’s ”prison-clearing” decree: when drought struck the north and crops failed, the King’s soothsayers said the heavens were angry over too much killing. So whenever famine came, the King ordered all prisons emptied, ”no man in a cell.”

It spared some innocents, and the people called it the King’s mercy. But men like Yannic used it to sell pardons.

Linnie, inside, heard every word. She wept and knelt before von Klein:

”Father, I know nothing of what my father has done. Please protect me.”

Von Klein had already decided. She was someone Roland wanted for Leon’s purposes. On this road through wolf country, he needed the Odenheim men. A small favor, nothing simpler.

”You bowed to me. I won’t abandon you. Come with me. The rest isn’t your concern.”

Roland had already gone ashore to search. Keane came running:

”Lord Alvin, they’re on the fourth boat! The man they’re hunting has taken our... guardswoman!”

The crowd surged to the cargo boat.

When Alvin and Hale reached it, Wyman had one arm around Lora’s throat, a dagger at her windpipe.

Wyman spotted Yannic behind the crowd and bellowed:

”Justice! Good timing. You tell them, I walked out of that jail fair and square! How am I a fugitive?”

Yannic sweated: ”Wyman, let the woman go. We’ll go back to the shire town and talk.”

”Go back?”

Wyman understood. The justice wasn’t here to help. He was caught. On the far bank, his brothers’ signal flickered. He had one play.

He sneered: ”Go back so I can come out again? You took our silver and double-crossed me. You release me, then send men to catch me, you play both sides!”

Lora thought hard. No pressure point would drop him instantly. If she struck his eye, not a critical point, he’d still have time to slit her throat first.

Too risky. And it would only enrage him.

Then she remembered a movie, the heroine killing with a blade. If only I had a knife.

She looked at her brothers. Roland’s sword was drawn. But she was in Wyman’s grip, they couldn’t move.

Damn, this man stank. Just out of jail.

Lora rolled her eyes... rolled them... up...

And because they went up, she saw, crouching on the cabin roof, a figure with two wisps of mustache.

Leon.

Their eyes met. She understood his plan:

He wasn’t using a bow, he held a dagger. Close-quarters, for surprises. A thrown weapon that missed would bring retaliation. Same reason she wouldn’t use the Rose Needle.