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

Lyra gritted her teeth and attacked, dipping as she spun about with one hand raised to block Flori’s spear as the other swept low, her wooden short sword slicing in a broad arc. A loud clack sounded as the spear struck Lyra’s wooden dagger. Her spin continued without resistance when Flori leapt over the strike aimed for her legs. Before the other girl could strike, Lyra spun away, standing upright three strides from her opponent.

Flori grinned. “Did you really think that move would work on me again?”

“It’s been a few days,” Lyra shrugged. “I figured it was worth a try again.”

“Try this.”

Lunging forward, Flori jabbed the blunted spear tip at Lyra, who twisted as she knocked it aside with her dagger. When Lyra chopped down at Flori with her sword, the other girl flicked the butt end of her spear up to block it. Clack. Flori raised the spear and flicked one end toward Lyra’s head, but she ducked beneath the blow and spun away.

The two girls locked gazes, one measuring the other as they had done every morning for the past week. Lyra expected that Flori would next attempt a jab. She focused on the girl’s spear, readying herself to try something new. Flori’s spear lashed out toward Lyra’s midsection, but Lyra spun toward her, the blunted spearhead sliding across her back. Lyra then locked her dagger arm around the spear and rammed her sword at Flori, knowing that it would connect unless the other girl released her spear. The shock of impact drove Flori backward as the end of the wooden sword slammed into midriff, the girl’s ribs breaking with an audible crack. An intense wince crossed Flori’s face and she fell to one knee, holding her injured side as she struggled to breathe.

The crowd that had gathered clapped as Elden stood and crossed the dueling circle to kneel beside Flori.

“It sounded like you’ve some broken ribs,” he said as he put his hand on her bare arm. “I’ll have you fixed in a moment.”

He closed his eyes and all fell still. A shiver shook Flori’s body, as if overtaken by a sudden chill. Her eyes bulged and her mouth hung open for a long moment before she gasped for air, reclaiming breaths she had been denied since the moment of the injury. Elden patted her back and stood.

“Thank you, Elden Duratti.”

“You’re welcome, Flori.” He squeezed her shoulder and departed from the circle, retreating to his wagon.

Gar approached with Tiri at his side, which was now a common sight.

“Wonderful match, Flori,” Gar noted. “You’re getting better against Tali’s two-handed fighting style.”

Flori bowed toward Gar. “Thank you. It has been good practice. I believe we should have sword fighters among the Tantarri, if nothing more than to offer practice against such weapons.”

Gar nodded. “I agree. I will have Shrepp forge a few swords and get Luyis and Berrin to carve more practice weapons like Tali’s once we’ve settled into camp on the plateau.”

Flori gave Gar another bow before turning to walk away.

“Until seeing you this week, I never realized that you’re such a fierce fighter…um…Tali.” Tiri bit her lip, glancing toward Gar. “It appears that the mornings you spent with Elan have been effective.”

Lyra shrugged, glancing at the wooden weapons in her hands. “Using these as weapons isn’t the same as a blade, but at least I don’t have to worry about cutting anything off myself or my opponent.”

Gar nodded. “Yes. Elden Duratti tells us that he cannot heal a dismembered appendage, but he can heal bruises and broken bones. This is why we only practice with blunt weapons made of wood.”

Lyra glanced toward the former Ministry healer, now surrounded by children, who listened intently as the man spoke to them. She decided that Elden had settled in well with the Tantarri and expected that the clan was thankful to have his abilities at their disposal.

“Tali, Tiri,” Gar put a hand on each of their shoulders, “now that the duel is finished, would you two mind helping Dari pack the wagon? The herds are already miles west of here, and we must leave soon if we are to catch them by nightfall.”

“Of course, Gar.” Tiri replied. “We are happy to help.”

“I forgot how slow the Tantarri travel,” Lyra grumbled.

Gar laughed. “Cattle pace us. Cattle move slowly. We actually prefer it that way.” His head bobbed side to side with the slow sway of the wagon, matching the lumbering motion of the oxen pulling it. “If they do move quickly, something has frightened them, and you had best not get in their way.”

Tiri leaned forward from her seat beside Gar, opposite from Lyra. “I don’t mind at all. It gives me more time to admire the beauty surrounding us.”

Lyra’s gaze scanned their surroundings, finding a similar view that spanned many miles in any direction. The wind caused the sea of grass to dance, sending rippling waves across it from west to east and creating the illusion that the wagon was moving far faster than reality. Tall cliffs towered over a lake to the north, with only a thin slice of the water visible from her angle. To the south, a ridgeline with cliff walls facing the plains matched the cliff walls to the north, coming together like a funnel, with only a narrow gap open in the distant west. Gar pointed toward the opening.

“Through that gap, the ground rises to the upper plateau…our destination.”

“How far is it?” Tiri asked.

He shrugged. “Perhaps twenty-five miles.”

“Ugh,” Lyra groaned. “We’ve been riding on this wagon for four days already. Now, you tell me we have two more days of sitting on this stupid wooden seat?”

Gar snorted. “You can get off and walk if you wish.”

Lyra’s brow furrowed as she considered his words. A moment later, she leapt off to land in the grass, bent and trampled from the passing herd of cattle.

Gar chuckled, “Suit yourself.”

“Oh, I’m happy to walk. My feet have many miles in them before they’re sore.” Lyra rubbed her backside. “I can’t say the same for my rear.”

Tiri giggled, the twinkle of her voice mixing with Gar’s hearty laugher.