Rogue Legacy: The Secret History of Issalia

by Jeffrey L. Kohanek

  Tiri’s frown deepened. “You want me to pretend to be a man?”

  Lyra grunted. “Nobody would believe that.” She slipped the hat on her head. “I’ll dress like a man and you’ll be my wife. I’ve pretended to be a boy before, and I can do it again.”

  She opened the water flask and took a drink, not caring that the water was warm. With her thirst quenched, she handed the skin to Tiri and began to dress.

  Leaves rustled in the wind. A murwing hooted from a nearby tree, the sound echoing in the night. The two girls huddled together with a blanket wrapped around them. Lyra rested her head against the tree behind her, while Tiri’s head leaned on her shoulder.

  “I’m cold.” Tiri whispered.

  “We’ll need to get a flint. Without it, we can’t have a fire.”

  “I want to go home, Lyra.”

  “You know we can’t. Perhaps ever,” Lyra sighed. “You’re a threat to Donte, and he knows it…Berrilon knows it.”

  “Father’s dead. I can’t believe he’s gone.” Tiri began to cry. “What are we going to do? Where do we go?”

  Memories of Lyra’s flight from Vingarri surfaced, although it seemed a lifetime ago. Her journey then had somehow led her to Cal. Helping Cal had resulted in her moving into the palace, living as a princess. Now, that life had been crushed, again leaving Lyra homeless and on the run, back where she started.

  Tiri nestled against her, sobbing. Lyra hugged her sister, realizing that this time was different. She wasn’t alone.

  “We have to get out of Kalimar, beyond Donte’s reach. We’ll head north,” Lyra whispered, hoping she sounded confident. “Once beyond Kalimar’s border, we’ll figure out our next step.” Lyra thought about Rainer. “I need to tell you something about Rainer.”

  Tiri continued to sob, showing no response.

  “When I was fifteen, he and another man broke into my house and…they killed my father.”

  Tiri sat up, looking at Lyra. “What?”

  Lyra nodded. “Rainer had bribed my father to betray Queen Iglesia, but when my father changed his mind and refused to do it, they killed him.”

  Tiri stared at Lyra for a long moment. “And now you’ve lost another father…I’m so sorry.” Her sobbing returned.

  Lyra thought as Tiri leaned against her. “Have you heard of an organization called The Hand?”

  Tiri nodded. “Yes. Father says that they were behind an attempted revolution. He said that you and Captain Pularus stopped them.”

  “Yes…and Cal. None of it would have been possible without Cal.”

  “And now, Captain Pularus is dead, too. How could Donte do it? How could he kill his own father…and his mother?”

  Lyra rested her chin on Tiri’s head. “I don’t get it, either. Somehow, he believes that being king is more important than having a family. That’s why we must flee Kalimar. He’ll apparently do anything to secure his position. You’re a threat as long as you live.”

  Tiri whispered, “I’m scared.”

  “Me too.” Lyra hugged her sister. “However, I’ve survived this kind of thing before. And this time, we have each other.”

  “Are you sure about this?”

  Lyra nodded to Tiri, whose eyes reflected obvious trepidation.

  “We need money, Tiri. As it stands, we can buy nothing. Aren’t you craving a hot meal?” Lyra pointed toward Tiri’s feet. “Wouldn’t you like some better footwear? Those slippers might be suitable for a dinner at the palace, but they’re a poor choice for walking a hundred miles.”

  Tiri sighed. “My feet are killing me.”

  “Mine too.” Lyra gave Tiri a smile. “Trust me. I can do this.”

  Despite the apprehension in her expression, Tiri nodded.

  “Good.” Lyra gestured toward Tiri’s dress. “I need you to pull the neckline a bit lower, and tease your hair. These men need to feel that you’re worth the bet.”

  Tiri did as instructed, fluffing her hair, its golden highlights brilliantly lit by the setting sun. She then adjusted her dress to reveal more of her tawny skin and a hint of cleavage. Satisfied with the result, Lyra nodded and led her sister through the door.

  In stark contrast to the quiet street, the tavern buzzed with the sounds of conversation and laughter. Sliding between the full tables, Lyra and Tiri crossed the room toward the crowd in the corner. As she forced her way toward the center, Lyra saw a man stand upright, holding a fist full of bones above his head. The crowd roared. Men patted the winner on the back as he grinned and nodded.

  “I challenge anyone here to toss bones with me.” Lyra announced in a gruff voice, attempting to maintain her charade.

  The surrounding crowd quieted, separating so that she and the man with the bones stood alone at the center. He stood a head taller than she, well-tanned with dark wavy hair and dark eyes. Lyra decided that he wasn’t bad looking until his grin revealed two missing teeth.

  “It looks like this boy wants to play.” The man waved toward the door. “I suggest that you run home and play with your toys, boy. You don’t want me taking your coin.”

  The men surrounding Lyra laughed, the ones near the man patting him on the shoulder. “Good one, Pern.”

  Lyra waved Tiri over, the crowd quieting when Tiri sauntered into the space beside Lyra. Pern’s laughter faded, but his smile remained as he stared at Tiri, his gaze sliding over the curves of her body.

  “I don’t have coin, but instead offer an opportunity.” Lyra gestured toward Tiri. “For a bet of two silvers, I’ll play you or anyone else for a night with my wife.”

  Pern’s brow furrowed as his gaze shifted to Lyra. “Your wife? This goddess is married to you?”

  Lyra nodded and grinned. “Yes and her skill in the bedroom exceeds her beauty.”

  “I’ll do it,” said a man from the crowd.

  “No!” Pern held his fist up, his eyes meeting Tiri’s. “I won the last game. The floor is mine. She is going to be mine.” He pulled two silvers from his pocket and tossed them to the floor. “Let’s play.”

  Tiri bit her lip and glanced toward Lyra, who nodded and waved her to the side of the circle.

  “Winner throws first.” Lyra said. “However, I have no bones and will need to borrow yours.”

  Pern’s grin took on a sinister light. “You don’t even have your own bones.” His gaze shifted to Tiri. “You’re lucky. I promise you a night you’ll never forget.”

  With confidence, the man tossed the bones up and caught four, choosing his taw among them. He continued to throw well and Lyra had to admit that the man exhibited skill, among the best she had ever played. By the time the game was done, both he and she had successfully cleared fours and each had to throw and collect fours a second time. On the third throw of fours, Pern missed the taw. Lyra did not.

  When the crowd quieted, Lyra collected her two silvers and led Tiri out the door. They emerged to find the street dark, with only the slightest hint of twilight remaining in the sky above them. Lyra grabbed Tiri’s arm and led her down the street.

  “That was close,” Lyra grumbled.

  “You were amazing. I didn’t know that you could move that fast.”

  “Yeah, but he was good, too. I actually feared that I might lose for a moment there.” Lyra turned the corner, dragging Tiri with her.

  “Oh, you did lose. You just don’t know it yet”

  Lyra stopped cold. Pern and another man blocked the street before them. Pushing Tiri behind her, Lyra slid her dagger from the sheath strapped to her thigh.

  “Oh, no, Jinks” Pern elbowed the man beside him, “It appears that the mouse has teeth.”

  Steel rang in the narrow street as Jinks drew a short sword, Pern a small dagger. The two men slid apart, leaving a stride between them.

  “You don’t need to die, boy,” Pern crooned. “I’ll let you live if you drop the dagger, give me my coin, and…” His sinister grin returned. “Let me spend the night with the girl.”

  “That’s quite an offer. After
much thought, I believe I must decline.” Lyra gave Tiri a wistful smile. “Plus, the girl finds your tiny little dagger quite disappointing. If she were to be poked tonight, she prefer it to be by something more substantial.”

  Even in the dark alley, the anger on Pern’s face was apparent. He growled and charged. Lyra ducked below the swipe of his knife. Spinning forward, she sliced his thigh and ran past him. Jinks stood wide-eyed before her. He sliced his sword toward her mid-section, but Lyra leapt and ran up the wall beside the man, her slippered feet taking two steps on the bricks as she flew over his strike, her body parallel to the street. As she sailed past him, she grabbed Jinks’ head and pulled the man onto his back with all her weight, his sword clattering to the cobblestones.

  Lyra rolled and scooped up the short sword, rising to face her foes. With his face contorted in pain, Pern limped toward Tiri and grabbed her wrist. Tiri screamed as he twisted her in front of him and held his knife to her throat. Jinks climbed to his feet, rubbing the back of his head. The man turned toward Lyra and she sneered at him.

  “Go!”

  With a momentary glance toward Pern, Jinks bolted down the alley, his footsteps fading into the night. Lyra advanced, focused on Tiri.

  Pern jerked Tiri back a step. “Stop, or I’ll kill her.”

  “If you kill her, I’ll kill you.”

  He backed away further, pulling Tiri with him as he limped down the alley.

  “Put the knife down, and I’ll let you live,” Lyra growled.

  “I’ll cut her,” he warned. “I’ll do it.”

  Lyra stopped, “Fine.” She dropped the sword, it clattering noisily as it settled. Pern appeared to relax, lowering his knife slightly. Lyra tossed her dagger upward, and the man watched it spin above Lyra’s head. Focused on the blade as it fell, Lyra’s hand darted out, caught the dagger by the tip, and launched it. The man staggered backward with Lyra’s dagger embedded in his forehead. His knife fell from his grip as he stumbled against the wall, sliding down it until he was lying in a heap, blood tracking down his tilted head.

  Tiri ran toward Lyra and hugged her so tight that it was hard for Lyra to breathe.

  “It’s alright. He’s dead.”

  “I...was so scared,” Tiri sobbed. “I didn’t know what to do.”

  “Calm down. It’s over.”

  Tiri nodded as she relaxed her arms. Lyra walked over to Pern and knelt beside the man, finding his wide-eyed gaze empty of life. A search through his clothes produced a coin purse, which Lyra pocketed as she stood. Drawn to the starlight reflecting off the blade of Jinks’ sword, Lyra strolled over to it, picked it up, and slid the weapon beneath her belt.

  “Let’s go. We’ll find an inn, get a meal, and get some sleep.” Lyra grabbed Tiri’s arm and led her toward the street. “We need to get far from Sol Polis before any of Donte or Berrilon’s men arrive, so we’ll have a long day tomorrow.”

  31

  “That’s not him.”

  “Who is it?” Tiri asked.

  “I don’t know. I just know that’s not Cal.”

  Although Lyra knew better than to feel disappointed, she felt it anyway. Upon seeing smoke rising from the chimney at Mystic Manor, unexpected feelings stirred inside her, feelings she had forgotten.

  The man locked the gate, shouldered his pack, and walked off toward Sol Polis, the morning breeze ruffling his dark hair. The girls remained still, waiting until the man disappeared over the hill to the west.

  “Come on.” Lyra rose from behind the trees and circled behind the house, toward the field.

  Holding her skirt up, Tiri ran to catch up with Lyra.

  “You miss him, don’t you?”

  Lyra looked down at the long grass while she walked, thinking about Cal.

  “Yes.”

  “We’ve been sisters for three years, yet you never speak of him.”

  “I tried…I need to move on…forget about him.”

  “Do you…love him?”

  “I don’t know. Can we talk about something else?”

  Tiri was silent for a moment before resuming. “I’ve never been in love. I hardly…know any boys. Being trapped in the palace made it difficult to meet anyone…and even if I fell in love, it would be for naught.”

  Lyra turned toward her. “Why do you say that?”

  Tiri shrugged. “As princess, I would be paired with someone for political reasons. Falling for a boy would just lead to pain, since father wouldn’t allow it to lead anywhere else.”

  “Tiri. I realize this is difficult, but you’re not a princess any longer. Even if you appeared and tried to reclaim the throne from Donte, who knows you? Who would support you? Even your father’s guards are dead. Donte has won. You must leave that life behind.” Lyra’s expression softened, replaced with a soft smile. “However, you’re now free to love whoever you want. I won’t stop you.”

  Tiri suddenly wrapped her arms about Lyra, hugging her fiercely.

  “What would I do without you?”

  “Most likely, get yourself killed.”

  Tiri released Lyra, laughing as she wiped tears from her eyes.

  Through the knee-high grass that covered the fields east of Sol Polis, the two girls traveled in silence. Lyra’s feet felt better in the riding boots she had purchased with Pern’s silver. She expected that Tiri felt the same, having traded in her slippers for real shoes.

  The sun was almost to its mid-point in the sky above them when they reached the eastern edge of the field…where the Tantarri used to camp.

  Appearing abandoned for years, Lyra found the dirt patches now filled with weeds and long grass. Similar to when she had approached Mystic Manor that morning, images came flooding in…memories of dancing around the fire, playing music, listening to Numi tell stories. Her time with the Tantarri had lasted mere months, but the mark they made on Lyra remained.

  “There’s a stream down in the trees. We can fill our skins.” Lyra led Tiri past the row of oaks and through the undergrowth that filled the hillside beside the stream. The gurgle of the water rose above the breeze rustling the leaves overhead, one harmonizing with the other in the melody of nature.

  Lyra squatted beside the creek and dipped the water skin below its surface, a stream of bubbles emerging as water trickled in. Tiri squatted beside her, intent on filling her skin. She lost her balance and a shriek escaped as her arms swung about to keep her balance. Too late, Tiri fell into the water, but not before she could grab ahold of Lyra’s coat, plunging her face-first into the water beside her.

  With a wide-eyed gasp from the cold wave of wetness, Lyra lifted her head above the water and climbed to her feet. Tiri lay below her with only her head and knees above the waterline. Laughter took hold of Tiri, the look on her face shifting from surprise to mirth. Despite the fact that she was now soaking wet, Lyra joined her, both girls laughing heartily for the first time since Tallinor’s death.

  Even in her new boots, Lyra’s feet ached after a long day on the road. The previous day had begun with a slow start in Sol Polis as they waited for shops to open so they could purchase new footwear and supplies required for their journey. Combined with a brief stop to inspect Mystic Manor, and their unfortunate little swim in the creek, half the day was spent by the time they reached the road.

  An uneventful night sleeping under the stars in a clearing near the road was followed by a long day of walking. The hours passed like a slow drip, making the ache of Lyra’s feet seem that much worse. With the sun low in the western sky and her stomach screaming for something besides trail rations, Lyra forced herself to continue walking.

  Surprisingly, Tiri displayed more fortitude than Lyra had anticipated. The girl hardly complained, not even when presented with a breakfast consisting of only a hard roll, a slice of dried beef, and an apple.

  Lyra turned toward her sister and felt a stab of pride at the determined look on her face. She was about to say something when she heard a noise from ahead. The rumble of wagon wheels grew louder, acc
ompanied by the slow clopping of hooves.

  Panicked, Lyra grabbed Tiri’s hand. “We need to hide! Come on!”

  Lyra darted toward the brush that bordered the road with Tiri following. They eased between the first barrier of branches and squatted, safely hidden from view when the wagon emerged.

  “…guy was a bit overzealous.”

  “He was just doing his job, dear,” A woman said.

  “Still, do we look like a pair of killers? Do I look like a girl?”

  She laughed as the wagon rolled past, hugging the man seated beside her. “If you looked like I girl, I wouldn’t be married to you. If they really are killers, I hope they catch them.”

  “They didn’t need to destroy our crates while searching. There isn’t…”

  As the voices faded, Lyra turned toward Tiri and found frightened eyes staring back.

  “Their looking for us, aren’t they?” Tiri whispered.

  Lyra nodded. “Yes. There must be soldiers stationed further up the road, stopping anyone who crosses the border.”

  “What are we going to do?”

  “We have to go another route.” Lyra thought of the route she took with the Tantarri, somewhere to the west. Pressing her lips together in determination, she nodded. “I know another way, west of here.”

  She turned and began walking toward the setting sun, its orange light filtering through the leaves overhead.

  “It’s growing dark. Can you find it?”

  Lyra focused on where she was headed, weaving a path through the brush and tree trunks.

  “We’ll camp when we get further from the road. At first light, we head west until we find the other route.”

  “Are we lost?”

  Lyra shrugged, unwilling to admit defeat. “To be lost, we’d have to know where we want to go.”

  Tiri appeared doubtful. “But, do you know where we are?”

  “Somewhere north of Kalimar by now…I hope.”

  Tiri stopped walking. “You hope? What do you mean, you hope?”