Lora of Two Worlds

Leon’s prediction was spot on. Fulke’s men went up and took the bandit camp without much fight.

The Teuton Clans band, two hundred or so, had only arrived a month or two before. They’d just solved the food problem and were starting to move from caves to proper shelters.

They’d heard that Lora’s group was spectacularly rich, one night in Gibford eating and drinking the entire city’s meat supply. The two brothers had impulsively decided: hit them, all hands, and take everything from these silk-clad southerners.

Those who retreated up the hill were few. And when they saw the two heads Lyle tossed on the ground, resistance evaporated.

The Askar men had a blood feud with the Teuton Clans. This chance, they wouldn’t be merciful. Blade after blade, the bandit camp was settled.

Those felling trees on the mountainside were captives, travelers, men and women, old and young.

Hundreds. Some had lost money or goods. Some had seen wives and daughters violated, who’d then taken their own lives. Some had been whipped and starved beyond endurance.

They wept before Yannic Xavier, the representative of authority.

Yannic Xavier told them: go home. Some left. Others, no money, no family, nowhere to go. They were brought to Yewtree County to be sorted out.

Most who stayed were men who’d been working away from home when captured.

Down the mountain, Yannic Xavier whispered to Linnie: have her spend some coin to win these men over. Bring them to the coal shafts. Save the cost of hiring miners.

Linnie told Lora. Lora smirked:

”His men searched the bandit camp, and he still asks you for money? Those bandits kept hundreds of people fed, you think they spent it all? Go intimidate him.

Make him cough up what he took. Otherwise he’ll think you’re soft, and you won’t be able to control him later.”

”Good thing you reminded me. I forgot, I’m the governor’s lady now.”

In her former life, Linnie had wielded several men in her orbit. If the household faction hadn’t been so strong, she might have pushed Prince Ambrose onto the throne.

Lora trusted she’d manage this time too.

They’d lost time. Despite eating dry rations on the road, by the time they reached Yewtree, they were ravenous.

Yannic Xavier’s men had ridden ahead. The county justice gave up his back courtyard for Linnie, Roland, and the rest.

In truth, they filled the front courtyard too. One night, the justice didn’t complain.

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In the back courtyard, Horn’s eldest son, Chester Horn, saw his wounded father.

He hadn’t expected to be sent to the Heartlands as a hostage: ”Father! Don’t we’ve enough? Why this humiliation?”

Horn Yvain shook his head, smiling: ”Are you doing so well in Yarnford? When did we last grow? Maintaining Yarnford costs us Yorvik. We need new ground.

I thought like you, this young lady is fierce, taking my son as leverage. But she told me: Highgarden has coal and iron. And the people behind it are ones who do great things.

Follow her. You won’t be a prisoner. You’ll be building something.”

Cheney was stunned. His father, speaking of a girl of fifteen as if she were a sovereign.

Horn Yvain didn’t reveal Leon’s identity. He wanted his son to figure it out himself.

Dawn lit Yewtree, a sleepy county town. Residents iron pote to find their streets full of strangers. Hard-faced foreigners. Refined southerners.

They’d heard that someone had wiped out the Yanshan bandits. Skeptical, the county had tried once, lost half its men, never tried again. But when they saw rescued locals returning, joy erupted.

As Lora’s carriages left Yewtree, the honest folk pressed boiled eggs and roasted tubers through the windows.

”Brother, if bandits were a problem, why didn’t Prefect Claude of Gibford care?”

Lora lifted the curtain, peeling an egg, talking to Roland on horseback beside her.

”These two months, the rebel was making trouble. He killed two prefects who disagreed with him. Who’d dare report anything? And the bandits had only been active a short time, the locals couldn’t handle it, so it was shelved.”

”Oh. Brother, I peeled you an egg. Catch.”

Roland reached over. The egg was three-quarters peeled, clean to hold. A thoughtful sister. Lora glanced at Leon, riding beside them, eyes straight ahead:

”Cousin, want one? If you mind dirty hands, I won’t peel it.”

The curtain dropped. Leon, heart aching: I don’t mind... I want one...

Another full day’s travel, and they reached Highgarden.

This was... a city?

Lora realized she’d badly underestimated the desolation. When they’d bought the land, the Gibford office must have laughed themselves silly.

Highgarden, a dozen households. The Odenheims were now its lords.

The fields held millet, wheat, tubers, cabbages. Simple, but self-sufficient. And the breeze carried a tang of salt...

Lora burst out laughing: How could I forget? This place had salt pans! In this age, the coastline was much further inland. Highgarden was a tiny fishing village on the Gulf of Borhan.

By a later era, these salt pans would be the largest in Asia. Lora glanced at Lord Horn... Could it be, by happy accident, she was leading the Black Eagle onto the right path?

This village had coal, iron, and salt. Waste land, a bay, mountains. It had everything. Her only concern: how to develop quietly, fly under the radar.

Lora walked her domain, hands behind her back, beaming. Leon, watching her mysterious smile, was curious:

This little woman looks delighted with the place. But it’s clearly barren. Is there really treasure underground?

But this was Yorvik. Finding wealth here was one thing, getting it home was another. You’d need a front.

Leon’s mind drew the map of the marcher domains. Highgarden was four hundred li from the border with Yewin, but by sea, much closer.

A salt pan, perfect cover. The Empire had plenty of shipyards, one more at Highgarden wouldn’t be noticed. Duke Osler could lead the application through the waterworks office. Two domains each adding a dock, nothing conspicuous.

”Yangyang, what are you smiling at?”

Leon’s voice broke into her thoughts. She looked up:

”Cousin, what are you smiling at?”

”I’m smiling because I just thought of a money-making scheme. Highgarden is on the coast. We apply for a salt pan, give the marcher lords a cut, make it look unprofitable. Then we use the salt shipments as cover for... private cargo.”

Lora grinned, leaned close to Leon’s ear, whispered.

”Great minds think alike.”

”Really? You thought of it too?”

For the first time, they’d arrived at the same idea independently. They smiled at each other, a perfect, unspoken understanding.