Rogue Legacy by Jeffrey L. Kohanek (classic reads .txt) đź“–
- Author: Jeffrey L. Kohanek
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When Harman emerged from his room, his mouth began to water when the scent of cooked beef greeted him. Taking two stairs at a time, he descended to the main level and found his grandmother stirring a black kettle sitting on a grate, the open flame licking its cast iron body.
“There you are.” She gave him a smile. “I was beginning to worry that you decided to try and sneak out again.”
Harman shrugged. “To tell you the truth, the thought hadn’t even occurred to me.” He plopped down on a chair and rested his arm on the table, his fingers tapping it absently, causing the spoon resting beside him to wobble. “It turns out that history books aren’t so bad when you are actually seeking information.”
Jane gave him a knowing smile. “Really? And what did you discover?”
“A lot, yet not enough,” he sighed. “The story you told yesterday mentioned King Tallinor of Kalimar. I poured through the books you gave me and found references to him and his reign, but nothing explains what happened to him. The books state that he died and that a period of turmoil followed, with numerous players taking turns on the Emblem Throne over the following decades. During that time, the borders of Kalimar expanded and contracted numerous times, primarily between them and Vinacci. However, nothing explains how he died or who ruled afterward. Kalimar endured thirty-seven years of instability after Tallinor’s death, finally finding peace under the rule of King Stavin, the current ruler.”
Jane removed the pot from the fire and set it on the hearth.
“So, those history books don’t provide the details you’re after?”
“Not really,” he responded.
She crossed the kitchen to a cupboard and grabbed two bowls. “Well, you’re in luck, young man.” Using a ladle, she dumped two scoops into a bowl and brought it over. The woman set the bowl between Harman and the plate of hard rolls at the table’s center. “I happen to know what really occurred in Kalimar…and who took the throne after Tallinor.” She returned to the pot and filled the other bowl.
“Is that related to the story you told me last night?”
Jane smiled, nodding as she settled into the opposite chair with a steaming bowl of stew waiting for each of them.
“Careful, it’s hot,” she warned.
He nodded as he scooped up some stew, blowing on the steaming beef, potatoes, and carrots to cool them. The first bite was hot, burning his tongue in his eagerness to eat. The second, less so. By the third, Harman was eating at a hearty pace. Within minutes, his bowl was empty and only crumbs remained on a plate previously occupied by two hard rolls. A minute after he finished, his grandmother set her spoon down and sat back, their eyes meeting. She smiled.
“I suppose you’re ready for the rest of Lyra’s story?”
He nodded, unable to restrain his grin.
“Let’s see here.” Jane bit her lip as she stared into space. “When we left off, Tallinor and the Kalimar army had departed for Sol Polis. They soon captured the city, taking it from what remained of the Ministry. As a reward for thwarting The Hand’s plan to overthrow Tallinor and the other rulers, the king named Captain Pularus the Duke of Sol Polis.
“Lyra settled into her new life at the palace. Tirialle treated her like a sister, Tallinor like a daughter, and she lived the life of a princess. This went on for some time, but Lyra rarely followed the rules, and her rebellious nature frequently got her into trouble. Three years passed before things went too far. Perhaps things would have worked out differently for Tallinor if she had behaved differently. Lyra felt like she should have seen it coming. Looking back, she traced the beginning of Tallinor’s end to a nondescript spring evening of her eighteenth year.”
A lonely flame flickered on the torch at the end of the corridor, its amber light consumed by the darkness in the other direction. Lyra crept toward the light, listening for footsteps as she neared the bend. The briefest glance around the corner enabled her to take a mental picture, recalling a long hallway lit at both ends, dark and empty in between.
She rounded the corner and scurried beyond the torchlight, melting into the shadows. Stopping before a closed door nestled between two tapestries, she tested the handle and found it locked. The sound of approaching footsteps triggered internal alarms and set her heart racing.
The far corner was too distant to reach before the guard reached the corridor, so Lyra squeezed behind a statue occupying the small alcove opposite the door. Sticky webs caught in her hair, its disturbed occupant scurrying across her forehead. With a flick, she sent the spider flying toward the wall and hoped there were no others. The thought sent a shiver down her spine.
The footsteps grew louder and a dim shadow emerged, shrinking as the man drew further from the torch and closer to her position. Lyra held her breath when the man appeared, pausing to stand between the statue and the door. The guard tested the knob, nodded, and resumed his rounds.
Only after the man turned the corner and his footsteps faded, did Lyra emerge from her hiding spot. She drew the dagger at her hip, along with the two bent needles that shared the sheath with the blade. Squatting, she pushed one needle into the keyhole, moving it carefully until she felt the tumbler. With a twist, it clicked. The other needle joined the first, seeking the second tumbler until it, too, clicked into place. Her blade then slid into the key hole, turning such that the knob turned with it and the door opened a crack. She then stood, sheathed the knife and needles, and slipped inside the room.
Lyra quietly closed the door and listened in the darkness. As her eyes adjusted, the canopied bed at the heart of the room took form, illuminated by the dim starlight coming through the glass-paned balcony doors at the far end of the room. A divan and a table occupied the area beside her, while a nightstand, vanity, and chair were placed beyond the bed. Along the wall between her and the balcony was a fireplace, the scent of a recent fire still hanging in the air.
As Lyra crossed the room, she found articles of clothing strewn across the floor. She bent and picked one up, smiling when she recognized it as a men’s doublet. Two steps brought her before the fireplace, where she grabbed the fire iron and began prodding the dark coals.
Orange light appeared as she stirred the ashes. She tossed the doublet inside and blew on the coals until flame popped to life and began licking the green velvet cloth. As the fire consumed the doublet, she gathered the other items of clothing…a dress, breeches, a bodice, men’s smallclothes…and tossed them into the growing flames.
Hearing a snore behind her, she turned and approached the bed, the deep red curtains that surrounded it now illuminated in orange flickering light. She slipped beneath the curtain that covered the foot of the bed and climbed on until she was standing between the two people who lay sleeping.
“Aaargh!” Lyra shouted and raised her arms in a menacing manner.
The woman in the bed sat up and screamed. The man in the bed sat up and screamed. Lyra screamed back at them, all three screaming in unison. Lyra’s scream subsided as laughter replaced it. She collapsed on the bed, holding her stomach as she laughed.
“Lyra!” the woman shouted. “How dare you?”
The man was breathing heavily, holding his hand to his bare chest. “That was most unseemly for a…a lady such as yourself.”
The woman held the covers to her neck, exposing bare shoulders as she stared at Lyra with eyes of fury, her face twisted in rage. “She’s no lady. She’s a filthy rascal who refuses to act with propriety.”
With her laughter under control, Lyra rolled over the woman’s legs and sat at the edge of the bed to pull the curtains aside. She stood and the door blasted open. Three guards stormed into the room, one with a torch in hand, the others with swords brandished.
“We’re here, my Queen! What happened?” Mandrick stood ready, searching for an enemy.
Lyra raised her hands high. “You’ve caught me. I’ll come along without a fight.”
The captain of the guard looked at her with his single eye, frowning.
“What’s this about, Lyra?”
Lyra shrugged. “I was just testing myself, making sure my skills hadn’t slipped.” She looked back and found the man beside the queen hiding beneath the quilt with it pulled over his head. “I had heard that there were rodents in this part of the castle. It turns out that the rumors were true, for I have found a rat.”
“You go too far!” Queen Jessibel shouted. She looked at Mandrick while pointing at Lyra. “I want her arrested!”
Mandrick appeared taken aback. “Arrested? On what grounds, Your Highness?”
“On…trespassing. She entered my private room without leave.”
Mandrick looked at the other two guards, who shrugged. “But she’s part of the Citadel, a member of the royal family. If I arrested her for entering your chamber, wouldn’t that apply to your servants and guards as well?”
Jessibel, a pretty woman when she wasn’t angry, yanked the quilt from the man who hid beneath it and stood, wrapping it around herself. The naked man yelped and rolled off the bed, falling through
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