Rogue Legacy: The Secret History of Issalia Page 4

  Another window graced the wall of the interior, revealing pots and pans hanging from the ceiling near the walls, dangling above shelves stacked with crates, buckets of produce, and other items.

  Lyra rubbed sleep from her eyes, smoothed back her long dark hair, and turned the knob on the door. The bright light of the morning sun made her squint as she climbed down into the long grass, bent at the root from the people, wagons, and animals that had trampled it into submission.

  She found the fire pit alive again, the flames licking pans set upon a metal grate. Eggs, slices of beef, and potatoes cooked on the pans, the scent delighting her nose and forcing her stomach to rumble.

  “Good morning, Tali,” an old woman said with a nod.

  “Do I know you?” Lyra asked.

  “No, my dear,” the woman laughed. “But Gar told us to expect you.”

  Lyra nodded and scanned the area, only finding other women, most far younger than the one who greeted her.

  “Where is Gar?” she asked.

  The woman pointed toward the open meadow, beyond the wagons. “He and the other men are out gathering the herd. We must prepare to leave.”

  Lyra nodded, choosing not to ask further questions.

  “Please sit, my dear,” the woman patted a spot on the log beside her. “It hurts my neck to look up at you like this.”

  Despite herself, Lyra found herself smiling as she sat beside the old woman.

  “My name is Numi,” the woman said. “I’m pleased to meet you, Tali.”

  Experiencing a twinge of guilt for using another name, Lyra nodded to the woman. “I’m pleased to meet you, too, Numi.”

  A girl just a few years older than Lyra handed her a plate. Another girl trailed behind her, holding a pan filled with cooked eggs, some of which she slid onto Lyra’s plate. Two others swept past and Lyra found herself with a plate full of eggs, cooked beef strips, and a chunk of warm bread. Finally, a far younger girl brought her a cup filled with water.

  As Lyra ate her breakfast, she asked the old woman a question.

  “If you are leaving, where do you go?”

  The old woman squinted toward the distant sky. “We go where Mother Sun sends us – south to evade the cold breath of Father Winter.”

  Lyra nodded, thinking the old woman’s perception a bit odd.

  Numi stood, grunting as she put her hand to her lower back. The woman turned and headed toward a blue wagon waiting nearby, pausing as she turned and waved for Lyra to follow.

  “Come along, now,” Numi said. “We need to get you in a proper dress. We can’t have you looking like a boy.”

  A deep voice interrupted, “This must be Gar’s stray.”

  Lyra turned and found a man approaching. He stood a head taller than Lyra and was at least twice her age, judging by the lines that marked his tanned face and the white that peppered his black hair.

  Numi gave the man a long nod. “Yes, Eddrick. This is Tali.” Numi turned to Lyra. “This is Eddrick, the leader of the Tantarri.”

  The man’s dark eyes focused on Lyra, looking her over. “Welcome to the Tantarri, Tali. I hope you’ll not be trouble.”

  Lyra shook her head. “No, sir. I’m just happy to have a bed and food.”

  “We were just about to get her a dress.”

  Eddrick nodded. “Good. Proper clothing will help her fit in. Beyond that, I guess we shall see how things go.”

  Numi bowed to the man and took Lyra by the arm, pulling her along.

  Gar’s wagon, and those trailing it, rolled down the dirt road, moving only as fast as the herd of cattle before them. Two dogs ran about the cattle, barking and cajoling them, keeping them hemmed in whenever the trees opened to a neighboring meadow.

  Lyra glanced to her side, eyeing Gar and Dari. The latter, Lyra discovered, was the far younger sister of the tanned man who sat at her side. Gar turned toward her and smiled. She found herself unable to resist replying in kind, affected by the young man’s friendly manner.

  “So, Tali,” Gar said, redirecting his gaze toward the pair of lumbering oxen pulling the heavy wagon. “I’m curious. Do you know how to play the game you’re named after?”

  “I do,” Lyra replied, unsure of where the conversation was headed.

  “Are you any good at it?”

  Lyra stared at the man, unsure of how she should respond. His expression of a raised brow over a half-smile caused her pride to flare.

  “Let’s play tonight and you’ll find out.”

  A grin spread across his handsome face. “Very well.”

  Lyra eyed the knucklebones, imagining every possible approach to collecting them. Although the bones had fallen poorly, she believed in her skill and had faith that Yanetta watched over her. She hadn’t had much luck of late, but things fell differently when she played Tali. Knucklebones was the one area where the goddess and Lyra were forever in sync. She hiked the skirt of her dress up, frowning at the discomfort and wishing she wore her breeches rather than the dark blue dress and small slippers Numi had given her.

  Focusing on the scattered bones, she tossed her taw high into the air, the orange light of the nearby fire reflecting off the bleached bone as it spun. Lyra stretched for the first bone, scooping it and the second in rapid succession before pivoting around her off hand to scoop the last two and then complete the circle in time to snatch her taw just before it hit the ground. The surrounding Tantarri stirred in surprise, with “oos” and “ahs” echoing in the clearing. Lyra stood and dusted her hand against her skirt, holding the other hand toward Gar. The man’s slack-jawed face reflected his awe as he stared at the five bones in her palm.

  Lyra smiled. “I believe you owe me a lock of hair.”

  Gar’s expression evolved to one of mirth and he began to clap, others joining in.

  “Good show, Tali,” Gar grinned as he lifted a knife blade to his long hair and began to saw at it. “It will take time for my hair to grow back, but it was worth it to witness your skill. I have yet to meet anyone as well named as you.”

  A tug on her skirt drew Lyra’s attention to find a young girl looking up at her with wide eyes. “Will you show me how to play, Tali? I want to be like you when I’m older.”

  “Sure, Dari. We can start tomorrow.”

  Dari’s face lit up “Oh, boy!”

  The girl turned and ran toward a cluster of Tantarri children.

  “Here’s your winnings.” Gar held the lock of hair toward her, placing it in her hand. “What are you going to do with it, anyway?”

  “I haven’t decided yet.”

  Lyra stared at the lock of hair in her palm, finding herself oddly at ease with the strange people who had taken her in as one of their own.

  Clapping again arose as music began to play – wonderful music that lifted her spirits and begged her to dance.

  Men began to approach women, extending their hands and giving bows as they made their requests. Without fail, the women would nod and join the men to dance around the fire, their colorful dresses flowing with the beat of the music as they danced and twirled.

  Gar stood and bowed before Lyra, his arm extended as his head bent low. His eyes met hers and he flashed a white-toothed grin that perfectly balanced his swarthy complexion.

  “Will you dance with me, Tali?”

  She stared at his hand for a moment before taking it in hers and allowing him to draw her forward.

  He spun her, dipped her, and passed her to another man. That man spun her about and returned her to Gar. She gazed into his eyes and saw pure joy reflected within. He spun her again, and she laughed, her spirits buoyed by the music. Back and forth, round and round she danced, feeling free and alive as she forgot the dark specter of her recent past.

  The night wore on, and Lyra danced until her sore ankle forced her to stop. Even then, she sat on a log beside a wagon and watched the others dance while she clapped to the beat. Hours after sunset, the Tantarri began to fade into the darkness as they retreated to their wagons. When l
ess than a dozen Tantarri remained, the musicians stopped playing and began to bid their companions a good night.

  Lyra finally gave in to her curiosity and desire, emboldening her to stop one of them.

  “Excuse me, Hentar.” She tapped a musician on the shoulder, hoping she remembered his name correctly. “May I try playing…what do you call it?”

  “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.”

  6

  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 the hasp plate. After inserting her knife and needle back into the sheath, Lyra set the padlock on the ground and pushed the door open.

  The dark interior smelled like dirt, damp and musky. She eased herself inside, her hands groping in front of her as she blindly moved forward. When her foot kicked something small, she bent and felt the cool smooth shape of an apple in her palm. After removing the sack she had tucked under her tunic, she unrolled it and dropped the apple inside, briefly wondering if Gar would accept her returning with a single apple. It wouldn’t help to feed the clan, but it’d prove she had successfully stolen something.

  With her arms extended before her, one hand holding the sack and the other empty, she again moved forward. Her fingers collided with a wooden object she soon realized was a crate, stacked atop another crate. She shuffled sideways and found another stack of crates. Beyond that, open air until she lowered her hands and discovered an open crate filled with apples. Quietly, she scooped apples into the sack until it was almost too full to cinch at the top.

  Turning to leave, the starlight beyond the doorway beckoned her toward it until she emerged from the dark confines of the storage building. After carefully pulling the door closed, she darted around the corner and crossed the field with her prized sack of fruit.