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

the vegetables gave them a turn, stirring them using a giant spoon with a handle as long as Lyra’s arm.

“Please, sit.” Gar gestured toward nearby crates, arranged in a rough circle. “While we await dinner, I’ll tell you our tale. After we’re done, I’d love to hear your story.” His gaze shifted to Lyra. “I’ve often wondered what became of you, Tali.” The man’s eyes refocused on Tiri. “And I’m curious as to what could possibly force a beauty like you to flee Kalimar.”

Tiri blushed again and Lyra snorted.

“Now, where do I begin?” Gar stared into the flames, the firelight reflecting in his dark eyes. He turned toward Lyra and she saw an intensity in those eyes. “As you know, the Ministry soldiers captured the Tantarri men with the intent of making us fight in their army. Thankfully, you and your friend saved us from that fate, freeing us before things had gone too far.”

“You don’t know the half of it, Gar,” Lyra said. “They were using magic to change the soldiers into giant beasts.” She shivered as she remembered their terrifying howls. “I shudder to think that they had planned to force you through the same transformation.”

“Well, then. I must thank you, again.” He nodded and took a slow breath. “When the other men and I were freed, we returned to the clan and headed north. However, we found ourselves without a leader after Eddrick’s death. Seeing that the clan required guidance and strength, I volunteered my name among those who might become the new Head Clansman. I knew my chances were slim, because I lack the wisdom of the older men, but felt it was my duty to demonstrate the willingness. Ironically, I was awarded the responsibility when mine was the only name submitted.

“In the past, the clan had traveled the same route year after year, spending winters in the fields outside of Sol Polis and summers in pastures north of Vinhagus. Rather than continue this tradition, I chose to lead the clan in a new direction, in hope of avoiding other travelers, especially anyone who was part of the Ministry. We discovered a rarely used trail that took us into the mountains, away from the coastal cities. Eventually, that trail disappeared, forcing us to cut our own path, but I refused to relent. Let me tell you, it is not easy getting wagons through wooded mountains. A full six weeks passed before we crested the final saddle and looked down upon the plains.”

“We made camp at the edge of the fields and woke the next morning to the sound of thunder. I emerged from my wagon, but found not one cloud in the sky. The noise grew louder and I turned toward it, squinting in the light of the morning sun. My heart stopped when a white stallion crested a nearby hill and galloped past the camp, leading a herd of wild horses. Faster than anything we had ever seen, these majestic creatures were surely gods themselves. They sped across the fields as the entire Tantarri clan watched in awe. The moment the last horse faded from view, I declared that this was our new home, and that I would one day ride that white stallion.”

Gar stood, holding his arms out wide. “These plains go on for miles and miles, an endless supply of food for our cattle.” He gestured toward the darkness, “Just north of here, you’ll find a creek that leads to a river that is always flowing. Our spring crops are planted along that creek; vegetables and grains to sustain us so that we need not call upon Outlanders ever again.”

“Here, we have everything we need.” He sat down again, staring into the fire. “But we also wanted to ensure that what happened would never happen again.”

“Since the world is not as peace-loving as we wish, we now acknowledge that we must defend ourselves. Every healthy Tantarri adult is now a trained warrior. These Tantarri cut their own spears, train their bodies, and practice their weapons every day. Even the women. All adult warriors now shave their heads, but for a single topknot and tail that they maintain as a way to honor the horse gods who live here. No enemy will know if they face male or female Tantarri. By contrast, non-fighters grow their hair long as a woman might in your society, making them appear less fierce and less likely to draw enemy attention. As clan leader, I keep my hair long to separate myself from the warriors, a clear symbol to them when in the field, regardless of distance.”

Lyra glanced at Tiri and found her focused on Gar, listening intently as the man spoke.

“These horses you speak of – have you ever captured one?”

Gar scoffed. “You do not capture such amazing creatures, Tiri. You must instead give yourself to them.”

“Fine. So have you been able to ride one?”

He sighed. “No. I have tried many times, but no horse will allow one of us within twenty paces.”

Lyra frowned as she imagined these swift horses, considering how one might befriend them.

“So, you live out here in these fields?” Tiri asked.

“Yes. We move the herds about from time to time, but the main camp is here during the cooler months.” He pointed west. “We will soon move to the upper plains for the summer, but we must complete our harvest first.”

Tiri leaned toward Gar, concern reflected in her eyes. “It must be difficult to survive out here with no businesses to buy from, no government to support you.”

“You don’t understand.” He shook his head. “Those things you describe are part of the problem. Rather than embracing the Spirit of Nature…embracing freedom…those things contain you, bind you to society.” He smiled. “The Tantarri will never again be bound in such a way.”

Lyra considered his words, understanding what he meant, but unable to decide if she felt the same.

“Ah, dinner appears ready.” Gar stood and turned toward the gathering crowd, now surpassing forty people. “Fellow Tantarri.” Loud and firm, his voice echoed throughout the camp. “As we sometimes do, we found a stray girl three years back and brought her into the clan, making her one of us. A tragic series of events stole that girl from the clan, events that included the murder of three Tantarri, their souls rejoining those of our ancestors.”

The crowd fell silent, the clearing still but for the crackle of flame and whisper of the breeze.

“Miraculously, that girl has now returned to the family, guided back to our wagons by the spirits themselves. Tonight, we celebrate the return of Tali, adopted daughter of the Tantarri.”

Everyone cheered, many yelling her name.

“Eat well. Afterward, we dance as our ancestors did so long ago.”

Those with shaved heads gathered to sit around the fire as the others, often children or the elderly, brought plates filled with slabs of beef, potatoes, squash, and flatbread. Lyra grinned as Dari ran to her, holding a plate of food with an eager grin.

“I have your dinner, Tali.” The girl’s eyes lit up as she spoke. “I’m so happy that you’re back.”

Lyra accepted the plate with one hand while wrapping the other arm around Dari, squeezing her tight. “I’m happy to be back, Dari.” She released her and smiled at the girl. “My, you’ve grown since I last saw you.”

“I’m ten summers now.” Dari stood tall and proud. “Gar says that I can start practicing with the spear this summer. I plan to be a warrior.”

“I’m sure you’ll be a fierce warrior, too.”

Dari grinned. “Thanks, Tali.” She then turned and ran to grab another plate of food.

Lyra found herself ravenous, not thinking about anything else until the plate was empty. She sat back and turned toward Tiri and Gar, Tiri reciting the story of Donte’s betrayal and the subsequent flight. Their plates remained half-full.

Seeing Gar again brought back memories, reminding Lyra of their bittersweet goodbye. When presented with two paths, she had chosen to help Cal put an end to The Hand’s plan rather than leave with Gar. Regardless of the situation, Gar likely took her decision personally. Even now, she felt an invisible wedge between them, forever changing their relationship.

Lyra always knew that Gar would move on after that rejection, but the reality stung more than expected. She sighed at the way Gar looked at Tiri, a gleam in his eyes as he laughed at something she whispered.

A tap on the shoulder caused Lyra to turn back toward the fire, finding a man with a shaved head standing there. He extended his arm, holding a stringed instrument toward her.

“You play and sing so wonderfully, Tali.” Hentar bowed his head. “I would be honored if you took my spot tonight and played with the others.”

Lyra felt excitement stir inside at the thought of playing. “I’d love to, Hentar. Thank you so much for asking.”

She grasped the instrument gently, tilting it up as she moved it into position. A quarter-circle around the fire pit, two men were preparing makeshift drums. She stood and circled toward them, receiving smiles in greeting.

“Let’s play something fun.” Lyra grinned as the two men nodded.

She patted the guitar’s body to a beat. The drummers matched the rhythm, one with a deep bass tone and the other with a metallic clang. Lyra strummed the strings, her fingers dancing along the frets on the neck, and she began to sing.

In moments, the Tantarri were dancing in pairs around the fire. The children again formed a circle, taking turns dancing at the heart as the others clapped to the music. Gar took Tiri’s hand and found an open space, twirling her to the music as she laughed. Lyra ignored it, focusing on the music, urging it to mend her damaged heart.

The song ended and she began another, again and again without pause, playing until the fire had fizzled to glowing coals. Lyra’s fingers felt raw and her throat felt parched when she allowed the music to stop. She glanced around and found that half of the Tantarri had retired for the evening, including the children. However, Gar remained with Tiri, him talking and her laughing at something he said. Seeing what was happening, a pang of jealousy twisted