Rogue Legacy by Jeffrey L. Kohanek (classic reads .txt) đź“–
- Author: Jeffrey L. Kohanek
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“This is a guitar. You’ll find it much like a lute, but larger.” Hentar held it toward her. “Do you play?”
Without a word, Lyra accepted the instrument and cradled it, her fingers sliding along the frets as she imagined the notes. Testing it, she strummed it a few times and listened to the sound. Like a smith’s puzzle sliding into place, the difference between her lute and this instrument instantly became crystal clear.
Intently watching the placement of her fingers on the frets to get them right, she found the strumming as familiar as the sun. When she began to play, the sweet sound seeped into her soul and extracted a piece of the sorrow she had buried deep inside herself. Unable to restrain herself, Lyra gave into the moment and began to sing. Her voice emerged full and clear as it hit every note, reverberating with emotion.
Lyra’s hands quickly memorized the spacing of the frets, her fingers dancing along the strings with unmatched dexterity as she increased the tempo of the song, driving toward its climactic and emotional completion. Suddenly, it was finished, and her fingers strummed the final chords. Her hand dropped to her side, her head lowered with her eyes closed and tears trickling down her cheeks.
A vast silence filled the campsite, only interrupted by the occasional crackling of the fire. Then a clap sounded, followed by another, followed by many more. Lyra opened her eyes to find herself surrounded. The entire Tantarri clan had emerged from their wagons, every one of them staring at her, many with tears in their eyes.
Gar emerged from the crowd and bowed his head to her. “You bless us with your gift, Tali.” His head rose, his gaze meeting hers. “Your voice and skill compel powerful emotions, something few musicians can hope to achieve.” He flashed his handsome smile, shaking his head in wonder as tears glistened in his eyes.
“Such sorrow for one so young,” Numi said, patting Lyra on the back.
The woman turned toward her wagon, as did the others, seeking their beds for the night. Lyra handed the guitar to the musician.
Hentar bowed deeply after accepting it. “I would like to thank you for gracing us with your gift.”
Lyra shared a small smile with the man before he turned toward his wagon. With the area cleared, Lyra found herself alone with Gar, beside the dying fire.
“You truly amaze me, Tali,” he said. “You could be one of us, you know. The Tantarri are among the most cunning thieves and most talented musicians in the world. With your quickness and dexterity, I could mold you into one of the best thieves of all time.” He grinned. “And your voice, it might make the Spirit of the Nature, herself, weep.”
Gar knelt on one knee and stared up at Lyra. “Please allow me to teach you, Tali. I believe that is why fate brought you to us.”
While Gar and his sister prepared the wagon for their stay at the new campsite, Lyra grabbed two empty buckets and headed toward the darkening woods. Careful not to catch her dress on a patch of thorn-stemmed flowers growing among the ferns, she eased her way down the hillside toward the gurgling brook. Reaching the bottom, Lyra squatted and dipped a bucket into the water.
Hearing a noise behind her, she turned to find two Tantarri girls in mid-descent - Eddrick’s daughter, Flori, wearing a red dress, her friend, Midurri, in yellow. Both girls were in their later teens, with long dark hair and curves that Lyra envied.
With one bucket filled, Lyra hefted it and set it among the rocks at the water’s edge. She glanced up as the two girls settled beside her.
“Hello, Tali,” the girl in the red dress said.
“Hello, Flori.”
Still squatting, Lyra glanced up at Midurri as she moved to stand downstream from her.
Flori placed her hands on her hips. “I believe we have a misunderstanding that needs to be addressed.”
Lyra frowned and stood, her full height falling a few inches shorter than Flori.
“And what would that be?”
“I’m talking about Gar.” Flori glanced uphill, toward camp. When her gaze returned toward Lyra, a fire shone within Flori’s eyes. “I see him with you, teaching you our craft. However, he’s mine, and you need to stay away from him.”
Lyra’s eyes narrowed. “Interesting. I wasn’t aware you owned him. Did you purchase him at the market? If so, I do hope you got him at a fair price.”
Flori stepped closer, her lip in a snarl. “You think you’re clever. You better watch your mouth, or you might find yourself searching for a few teeth.”
“I don’t know what your problem is, but Gar has a mind and will of his own.” Lyra poked Flori in the chest with her finger. “He would be with you if you’re the one he wants. However, I believe he’s too intelligent and has better taste than that.”
“Why you…”
Flori’s hands thrust out toward Lyra with the intent to shove her into the brook. Lyra slid sideways and twisted. Flori missed and her momentum caused her to stumble into the water. Unable to catch her balance, she went in face-first, splashing Lyra and Midurri in the process.
Midurri grabbed Lyra’s arm, attempting to pull her into the water. Lyra thrust her foot into Midurri’s midriff. The girl doubled over with an oof and released her grip. Her arms waved in a circle as she attempted to maintain her balance but fell backward into the stream. The massive splash from her back flop drenched Flori again just as she had risen to her feet in the waist-deep water.
Lyra stared in surprise at the two wet Tantarri girls as they turned toward her, wild anger apparent on their faces. Quickly bending to scoop up the full bucket along with the one she had yet to fill, Lyra scrambled up the hillside.
“I’ll get you for this, Tali!” Flori shouted as she tried to climb out of the water. “You better watch your back.”
Lyra crested the hill, emerged from the wood, and walked past the circle of rocks that would be their new fire pit. Gar finished setting blocks beneath the wheels of his wagon and stood to greet her. His gaze slid down Lyra’s dress, dotted with wet patterns created from the other two girls’ splashes.
“What happened to you?”
Lyra glanced back toward the hillside. “Oh, I just stumbled across some pests.”
Gar appeared confused, but shrugged. “Thank you for getting us fresh water. We have a bit of time before dinner, so why don’t you and I sit down and pick a few locks?”
Lyra smiled. “I thought you’d never ask.”
“Do as we practiced. Don’t rush yourself, focus on stealth,” Gar whispered.
“I feel guilty stealing from this man. He’s only a farmer.”
Gar handed her a burlap sack, empty and wound into a tight roll.
“Just fill this with apples. Nothing else. He has thousands of them after the fall harvest,” he whispered. “We only take people’s excess. You do it right, and they’ll be completely unaware that anything is missing or that you were ever even there. The last thing we want is for them to alert local authorities and try to chase us down.”
Lyra took the sack with a nod, unsure if Gar saw her response within the shadowy woods. With a calming breath, she stepped from the shadows and into the starlit field surrounding the farmer’s home.
She scurried through the long grass to the back of the outbuilding, resting her back against it as she listened for movement.
The evening breeze rustled the grass near her. Distant crickets chirped from somewhere within the forest. Lyra’s heart pounded with adrenaline as her pulse thumped in her ear. Beyond these three elements, she heard nothing.
A glance toward the woods where Gar waited revealed only dark shadows. After another slow breath, she peeked around the corner toward the farmhouse and found no activity.
Sliding around the corner, Lyra approached the door and discovered a padlock securing the hasp. She drew the dagger strapped to her leg, along with one of the two needles she had stuffed into her sheath. With a silent prayer to Yanetta that Gar was correct about the farmer’s lock having only a single tumbler, she slid the needle into the keyhole and began to search for the trigger. Clinking and scraping sounds of metal on metal came from the lock, making Lyra cringe at each motion of the needle until it hit a metal object within the lock. Lyra twisted it and applied pressure until it clicked.
Her gaze drifted toward the house, listening and watching for any movement. Not finding any sign of alarm, she slid her blade into the lock and turned it until the lock body released from the padlock loop. She carefully slid it down and lifted the lock from
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