Lora of Two Worlds

After the revelation to von Klein, everyone on the boat who mattered knew Leon’s identity.

Von Klein invited him to the passenger boat. Leon declined. They shifted cargo in another boat to make him a half-cabin, more comfortable.

With Leon’s identity known, Lora’s was revealed too. Von Klein learned that the General’s ”pet” was in fact his daughter.

General Odenheim... did he mean for his daughter and the prince to grow close?

Von Klein felt that even a seven-souled mind wouldn’t be enough.

Honesty was easier than lying, and no one was more relaxed than Lora. She’d handed cooking duties to Shawn and Keane and spent her days at leisure.

One morning, she stumbled out of the cabin, bleary-eyed, arms stretching, and found someone facing her with a drawn bow. She yelped:

”Assassin!”

The guards nearby didn’t panic, they laughed: ”My lady, look carefully. Lord Roland is aiming at the target on the cabin wall.”

She walked around. A practice target hung there. Thwip, an arrow flew, dead center. Roland grinned:

”Alvin and I talked it over. We’re bored on the boat. We’ll teach you arms, so you can defend yourself. We made a bet: each of us teaches you one skill. Whoever’s you learn best, wins.”

”What? You’re betting on me? One each, that’s two things to learn. You want to work me to death and split Mother’s sweet cakes?”

Roland laughed harder: ”No, three things. Your cousin is playing too.”

The polemen and guards howled: ”My lady, we’re all in. We’ve all placed bets.”

Lora didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. They say the people of the Empire love to gamble. You’ve been itching for weeks. Finally caught an excuse, and you want to grind me into the deck?

She puffed her cheeks: ”So I have no choice?”

”You do,” Leon said, walking up. ”You may choose which to practice first.”

Bad feeling. She asked: ”Roland, did you bet too?”

”Of course! I bet on myself.” Roland flourished his bow.

”If you can bet, I can too. Or else... you play without me.” Lora blinked.

If she didn’t play, what would they bet on? Roland said: ”Fine. Who do you bet on? No cheating for yourself.”

”I bet on me too. If I tie all three, I win.”

Lora thought: worst case, I’m equally bad at all three. That’s a tie.

A tie? No one had set that line. It seemed fair.

Lyle raised his hand: ”I change my bet! I bet on the young lady!”

Traitor. Leon was about to give him a withering look. Shawn and Keane raised their hands: ”I change too. The young lady.”

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A guard saw the tide turning: Those three know the young lady. She must have something. I’d better switch, it’s my whole purse...

”I change.”

”Me too!”

Mutiny. Roland produced a gold ”Empire at Peace” coin and laid it on his palm:

”I raise! Who’s in?”

Gold coins weren’t currency, but any bank would exchange them for copper. I was worth twenty-six pecks of grain. If the third lord was all in...

”We all bet on the young lady!”

”Ha ha ha!” Seeing her brother’s and cousin’s chagrin, Lora clapped and laughed.

Leon, unruffled, unsheathed a dagger: ”Do you practice archery first, or the dagger?”

Oh. Right. Whoever wins, I’m the one sweating. Lora’s grin faded. Lyle urged:

”My lady, hurry and practice! Our entire fortunes are on you. Dowries, coffin money...”

That much pressure? Lora stood in the canal wind, overwhelmed. She squeezed her eyes shut:

”Archery first!”

To rob the rich and feed the poor, I’m all in!

Everyone bet. Even von Klein put in a mark, on Alvin, naturally. He’d spent days with Alvin. The man never raised his voice, never said a harsh word, but when he spoke, you couldn’t refuse or doubt.

Leon’s identity known, Alvin had been sharing Leon’s vision for the court and the realm with von Klein.

He didn’t disparage the King or boast about Leon, he simply described the hope that might come.

Von Klein had no more doubts.

This life was nearing its end. Better to spend it fighting for the Imperial glory he’d dreamed of.

When Lora came to the passenger boat for sword practice, von Klein would smile:

”Young lady, practice well. Self-defense, and dance besides. The old King loved the sword dance above all. He said: softness within strength, that’s the truest beauty of a woman.”

This gave Alvin an idea: his sister needn’t fight hard, she should fight clever, strike unexpectedly.

Linnie had trained in sword dance. Two women sparring was less tedious than the archery detail on the stern boat, where a ring of guards shouted: ”My lady, my lady, make us rich!”

The old King was Leon’s great-grandfather, the one who’d first shown him the power of ”strong governance, curbing the marcher lords.” Leon privately ranked his great-grandfather’s pacification of the realm alongside the founding king’s conquest and the golden-age king’s glory.

And the old king’s ”softness within strength”, distilled into three dagger moves: slash the throat from the front, pierce the lung from the side, stab the heart from behind.

Linn and Lyle demonstrated each move. Lora declared:

”I understand all three.”

”Oh? Then explain.”

”Throat slash, there’s a great vessel and the windpipe. Cut either, death by blood loss or suffocation.

Lung pierce, that’s what you did the night you saved me. Dagger through the lung and a blood vessel, blood floods the lung, suffocation. Heart stab, not hard. The heart point between the shoulder blades, that’s the back of the heart.”

The body’s internal anatomy was basic knowledge for a modern person. For people of this age, it was the accumulation of countless trials.

But knowing where the fatal points were, that wasn’t the same as winning.

Leon smiled: ”Since you know, come, stab me.”

Fine.

Lora drew the dagger he’d given her. It matched his, one longer, one shorter. Hers was engraved ”Invincible.” The hilt was a bird’s head. What was his engraved with?

”Stop daydreaming. Here I come.”

Leon swung at her face, leaving his throat open. Lora thrust, as Lyle had shown. Leon caught her wrist, shifted, and threw her to the deck.

”That doesn’t count! I didn’t see it clearly. Linn, Lyle, demonstrate again.”

The second time, Leon didn’t let go. She didn’t hit the deck, but her arm nearly came out of its socket. She rubbed it:

”What kind of teacher are you? No chivalry at all...”

”My lord, if you don’t teach her properly, she’ll quit. Then you lose.” Linn whispered. He hadn’t switched bets, his money was still on Leon.

”Mm.” Leon thought: What’s chivalry.

The third time, Lora managed a feint, dodged his hand, twisted his arm behind him, moved to slash his throat. Leon shifted, they were face to face again.

He caught her wrist. He was about to throw her, then remembered ”chivalry”, and pulled her toward him instead.

Lora’s forehead slammed into his chest.

Their eyes met.

”You... should take up headbutting.” Leon winced.

”Do I win?” Lora grinned through the pain in her forehead. Then she asked: ”Cousin, what’s your dagger engraved with?”

”Nothing.”

”Cheapskate...”

”My turn to stab you.”

”You’re so tall, I can’t get good leverage!” Lora muttered.

Leon paused. He’d made an error. She was small. Against a taller opponent, her technique should be more fluid, not locked into fixed positions. She’d known this. It was his teaching that was wrong.

He drew his own dagger and held it before her. On the blade: ”The Benevolent.”

The Benevolent is Invincible.