Rogue Legacy by Jeffrey L. Kohanek (classic reads .txt) 📖

Your body craves rest, hear it humming

Sleeeeeep, sleeeeep, lie down and sleeeeep

Give in to weariness and go to sleeeeeep.”

As she continued to play, the men began to lie down, some yawning, others curling up on their sides. A minute later, the music stopped, and only the sound of the crackling fire remained. Every man within the camp appeared to be asleep, many snoring.

A rustle emerged from behind her. She turned to find Cal walking into the firelight.

“Good job,” he whispered. “I do love to hear you play.”

“Thanks,” Lyra shouldered her lute. “Now let’s get the Tantarri men out of here before anyone wakes.”

They weaved their way past the sleeping soldiers and to the captives sleeping near the fire. Lyra discovered the men’s wrists shackled, a chain running between the shackles, binding them together into a line. She pulled her knife from the sheath, along with one of her needles and began to pick the locks of Gar’s shackles. As one clicked open, he stirred. Lyra put her hand over his mouth and his eyes shot open, his expression softening when he saw her.

She put a finger to her lips and he nodded before she removed her hand. After freeing his other wrist, she carefully set his shackles aside. Drawing the other needle from her sheath, she handed it to Gar, who nodded and moved to the next man in the chain.

Some of the men woke as their shackles were unlocked, while others slept more soundly. With half of them freed, Lyra moved on to one who was sleeping with his wrists beneath him. When she tried to move his arm, he jerked and shouted in surprise.

“Shhh,” she hushed him.

She looked around to see if anyone had heard the commotion. A soldier sat upright, his face showing alarm when he saw her.

“Enemies in the camp! To arms!” The man grabbed his spear and scrambled to his feet.

The camp instantly came alive and men woke, including those inside the tents. Some of the freed Tantarri bolted, with one dropping face-first with an arrow in his back.

The soldier who had alerted the camp advanced toward Lyra, holding his spear ready. Lyra stumbled backward with her knife before her, stopping when she felt the heat of the fire against her back. Suddenly, Cal was behind the man. He grabbed the soldier by the shoulder and leg and lifted the man above his head, as if he weighed nothing. Cal tossed the soldier and the man slammed into three other soldiers as they emerged from one of the tents.

Lyra watched in awe as Cal leapt over her, over the fire, and landed beyond the furthest tent. He grabbed a stunned bowman by the arm and swung him around with the soldier’s legs parallel to the ground as he twirled about and smashed into the tent. The man screamed as he collided with the men inside, the sound of bones breaking coming from within.

Cal leapt over the tent and landed beside the remaining captives, now on their feet and appearing confused. He grabbed the chain that bound them together and snapped it in two as if it were thread. He then looked at Lyra and shouted.

“Run!”

Everyone bolted, running into the woods as more shouts and screams echoed in the night. Lyra and the dark shadows of the freed men ran through the woods – ran for their lives.

Gar squatted beside Lyra and placed his hand on her shoulder as he whispered, “Why are we stopping? We should leave before those men show up.”

“I can’t leave him, Gar,” she whispered back. “You and the others are free because of Cal. What if he’s in trouble? What if he needs our help?”

She heard Cal’s voice, “Tali.”

Rising above the brush, Lyra peered from the dark woods and found a single form stumbling down the road.

“Over here,” she said in a hushed voice.

Cal angled toward her and stumbled to his knees before tipping sideways.

Alarmed, Lyra ran out from her hiding spot. Gar and three others emerged to follow her.

Cal lay on his back at the edge of the road, holding his side. Despite the dim starlight, Lyra noticed the dark splotch on his tunic when she knelt beside him.

“You’re hurt,” she said with concern.

“One of them got lucky. Cut me bad before I could stop him.” He held his hand up and stared at his blood-soaked palm. “The strength from my augmentation will wear off soon. When it does, I’ll go fast.” His hand reached up and touched her face, tracing a smear of blood on her cheek. “I’m glad I found you. I wanted to see you before I die.”

The other fugitives gathered around them as Gar knelt on the other side of Cal.

“This is your friend? The one who helped you free us?” Gar’s eyes met hers.

“Yes.” She nodded, looking back down at Cal. “You’re not going to die. We’ll bring you back to the camp and you’ll be fine.”

He coughed, which turned into a moan. “No. I’m in a bad way…dying. Goodbye, Tali. We had something special. We almost made it work. Be sure to get my gifts to the king.”

Lyra frowned. “King? What are you talking about?”

A man she didn’t know knelt beside her. “Here. Let me heal you.”

The man gripped the hand Cal held against his wound. Cal’s body spasmed and his back arched. He shook violently and gasped for air, his body visibly relaxing. As his breathing slowed, he sat upright.

“Thanks. That was a near thing.”

“What?” Lyra turned to the man beside her. “Who are you?”

“My name is Elden, Elden Duratti.”

Cal grunted, “You’re the man from the temple. You healed my feet.”

Elden nodded. “Yes. I was the last healer left in Sol Polis. When the others volunteered to join the Ministry’s secret mission, I chose to remain behind. I prefer…a more peaceful approach. The soldiers who captured these men were the last group to leave Sol Polis. They stopped by the temple on their way out and the next thing I knew, I was shackled, and they were dragging me out of town.” Elden put his hand on Cal’s shoulder. “Thanks for freeing me…for freeing us. After that, healing you was the least I could do.”

“Issal was truly looking out for me to have an Ecclesiast among the captives.” Cal gripped Elden’s shoulder, his eyes reflecting gratitude. His stomach made an audible growl, sounding ferocious in the quiet night. “Now, do you by chance have any food? I’m starving.”

17

The last vestiges of twilight gave way to dawn as the sun edged over the ocean at the horizon, miles to the east. Lyra squinted at the light as the last wagon lurched into motion. Gar sat on the driver’s seat with the reins in his hands. Elden sat beside him – where Lyra would have sat if things were different.

Gar looked toward her, meeting her gaze. The disappointment on his face was evident, reminding Lyra of their last conversation.

“I’m sorry, Gar.” She bit her lip. “I have to stay. Something big, something bad, is coming. Cal needs my help.” Lyra’s gaze shifted toward her hands, held in his. “You must go. The clan needs you.”

A glance toward the wagons showed them lined-up and ready for travel. Shouts came from the north, along with the barking of a single dog, the only one the soldiers hadn’t killed when taking their captives. The dog and the last of the cattle disappeared around the bend, kicking up a trail of dust on the gravel road.

“I need you, Tali. Please come with us. Let this Outlander deal with Outlander problems. You belong with me. You belong with the clan.”

Lyra stared into his eyes…and found herself sinking into them, barely able to keep her head afloat. Gar cupped her cheek and leaned forward, tilting his head as their lips met. His other hand found the small of her back, and he pulled her against him. The heat of his skin against hers caused something to flare within, her body reacting to the contact. Her heart raced, feeling like it might burst from her chest. When the kiss ended and he pulled back, she looked down, refusing to meet his gaze, fearing that she might be unable to say no.

“Again, I’m sorry, but I must stay.” Requiring every bit of effort she possessed, she pushed herself away and turned from him. Her head turned to the side as she spoke over her shoulder. “Perhaps we’ll meet again. Fate will decide.”

“Tali,” he pleaded as she walked away. “Why must you do this? You have fulfilled your promise. Why stay?”