Lora of Two Worlds

The red-haired siren Linnie had arrived at the Sheffield residence, with a coal mine as her dowry. The envoy’s godson-in-law, Sheffield, threw himself into the task at hand: rebellion. But Claude Baldwin iron pote up with second thoughts: Yesterday, I nearly killed von Klein and Alvin. I called him a castrated dog... If he gets out... he’ll come for me. And Sheffield will share less of the money if he’s alive. No, this can’t happen. Today, in the chaos, send men to the military prison. Kill von Klein and the others. Blame the dead rebel. I’m safe. Claude Baldwin, with his plan, arrived at the governor’s palace before the others. ”Yannic, has the envoy finished the letter?” He asked casually. The rebel ground his teeth: ”Don’t mention that wretch. Yesterday he dragged his feet, lamp too dim, ink too dry, then he fell asleep. Today, I’ll put a blade to his throat and make him finish!” ”Ha ha ha... Who’d have thought a chamberlain would learn the King’s tricks, acknowledging you, but only sending an ’lord warden’ warrant.” Claude Baldwin said, pointed: ”Tell you what, I’ll send a man to help him along. Every hour he delays, kill one of his guards. Blood will focus his mind.” The ”lord warden” jab stung. The rebel agreed: ”Fine. Handle it.” Claude Baldwin dispatched his clever man, Tobias the Rat, to the prison. That way, when Claude Baldwin slipped away, the prison still had the rebel’s men. Tobias had his orders. He took two guards and headed for the military prison behind the palace. Sheffield arrived next, on schedule. Seeing Claude Baldwin there already didn’t concern him. Claude Baldwin’s men were outside, his job was the perimeter. Cedric Hugo arrived last, slapping Sheffield on the shoulder: ”Sheffield, all better? Heard you came to Yannic for money. If he gave you extra, my boys won’t stand for it.” The rebel, still smiling at both of them, heard this and changed color: ”What’s that supposed to mean?” ”Plain talk!” Sheffield stepped into the hall and faced the rebel: ”Where’s the money you promised? The men can’t feed their families. And you’re dithering over a letter!” ”The Lohenheim operation failed. The money and supplies, we’ve to find elsewhere. Come to the treasury, I’ll release the summer pay early...” Summer pay was theirs by right. What they wanted was the bonus for putting him in power. If he couldn’t deliver, he’d lose the chair. Cedric Hugo’s voice was loud. The guards outside heard every word. Swords rang. The men behind Sheffield and Cedric seized the courtyard guards. At the gate, the signal went up. Two companies poured in. Fighting erupted. ”Sheffield! Cedric Hugo! You, you dare rebel?” Claude Baldwin stood, smiling: ”You can rebel. Why can’t we?” ”Ashford Rourke, Chase Xavier, the rebel didn’t give you much. Kill him, and that’s your pledge to us.” Sheffield addressed the rebel’s two guard captains. Us or them. The governor’s palace was bedlam. The barracks behind it, no better. The Black Eagle and Askar’s men, hearing the commotion outside the walls, launched flaming arrows. Stables and hay bales caught fire. Guards scrambled, save the horses, save themselves. The military prison, in the center of the barracks, was oddly quiet. A few household guards stood before the main cell. A small wooden table outside, paper on it, von Klein seated, forced to write. Writing a letter was one thing. But they’d bound Alvin and Roland and made them sit as ”observers.” The moment anything happened outside, the guards would kill all three. Tobias the Rat sneered: ”Lord Envoy, you write slow, their heads drop fast. You don’t want that, do you? Men, drag one out. Hold the lamp for the Lord Envoy.” The cell stirred. Men shoved forward: ”Me! Let me go!” The first man dragged out was usually the example, dead. Everyone knew it. But with their lords bound outside, the Odenheim guards were furious. Tobias paced the bars. Von Klein, terrified, grabbed his quill: ”I’ll write! I’ll write!” ”Augustus von Klein reports: the chamberlain von Klein, by royal warrant sent to Yorvik...” He read aloud as he wrote.  His hand shook. He dipped the quill, and knocked the ink stick off the inkstone. In the silent cell: a sharp clap. Tobias’s strained nerves snapped. He pointed at a guard sitting on the floor: ”Him! Drag him out and kill him!” The man he’d pointed at was Leon. He stood, slowly. Linn and the others surged forward. Leon pushed them back. He walked out of the cell. The guards shoved him. His eyes never left Tobias: Since you came in, you’ve been the loudest. Which finger was it that pointed at me? Tobias, prickling under that stare, stepped back. His mouth moved: ”Write! Or he dies!” The guards hesitated. They looked at a bearded man, the prison warden. The warden squinted at Leon and his dagger. Then shouted down the corridor: ”Prisoner uprising! All stations, defend!” Tobias wasn’t one of theirs. They cared about prisoners not escaping. The hostage? His problem. What? The loudmouth wasn’t the boss, and they’d just abandoned him? Leon had miscalculated too. Down the corridor, a squad of armed guards filed in. Swords out. All pointed at Leon. The warden didn’t like Tobias either. Without the rebel’s direct order, he didn’t want to kill on his own turf: ”Drop your weapon. Get back in the cell.” Leon pulled Tobias backward, dagger at his throat. One step from the cell door, he seized Tobias’s right hand and sliced off his fingers.  The bloodied dagger clanged on the floor. He stepped back into the cell. ”My hand!” Tobias collapsed, howling. But now, outside, the sound of chaos reached them. The warden frowned. He forgot Tobias on the floor: ”Lock the outer prisoners in! All guards, to the corridor entrance. Hold the prison!” The guards moved, trained, efficient. Leon and Roland were together again, but... was that Horn’s rescue outside? The warden, with the prison’s unique layout and his men concentrated at the chokepoint... This was going to be hard.

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