Rogue Legacy: The Secret History of Issalia

by Jeffrey L. Kohanek

  “Did you do that?” Cal asked, pointing toward the guard.

  Lyra replied with a grin and a shrug.

  They crept up the steps and slowed as they reached the room at the top. Four guards sat at the table beyond the open doorway, one of whom spotted them emerging from the stairwell. The man leapt to his feet.

  “The prisoners are escaping!”

  The guards scrambled for their weapons and rushed toward them. Hagget met the first guard head-on, grabbing the man’s wrist to stop his sword as Haggett’s cudgel thrust into the guard’s abdomen. Hagget then hit the man over the head as Cal darted past him.

  Cal caught the next guard’s cudgel with one hand, picked the man up as if he were a doll, and tossed him into another guard. Both men flew back into the room, smashing into the table and chairs, sending chair legs spinning as the table collapsed to the floor. The fourth guard swung his sword at Cal from behind, but Lyra’s sword blocked the strike, the impact jarring her shoulders. Cal turned on the man, grabbed his shirt and lifted him off his feet, slamming him into the wall. The guard hit hard and fell to the floor, unconscious.

  Hagget grinned. “That was fun.”

  A horn sounded, its tone reverberating.

  “What was that?” Lyra asked.

  “Warning sound,” Hagget replied. “They know we’ve escaped.”

  “Let’s go.”

  Cal ran down the hallway to the front door with Lyra and Jessep close behind, while Hagget brought up the rear.

  They passed through the bailey, into pandemonium.

  The clashing of steel rang throughout the square as soldiers in plate-covered leather armor fought with city guards and sailors. Cal, Lyra, Jessep, and Hagget stopped to watch the spectacle, trying to make sense of it.

  The door behind them blasted open, and a stream of guards sprang forth, dozens of them running past to join the fray. Amidst it all, Lyra spotted a pennant of white marked by a rising sun.

  “I see the Kalimar flag,” Lyra shouted.

  Cal nodded. “Kalimar must be attacking the city. We need to get out of here.” He turned toward Hagget and Jessep. “You’re on your own. Good luck.”

  Hagget grinned and ran off into the night. Jessep nodded.

  “Thank you, sir. I’ll do right by this second chance.”

  Jessep turned and left as a Kalimar soldier in front of Lyra cut down the man he was fighting. The soldier turned toward her with fiery bloodlust in his eyes. Lyra raised her sword and blocked his strike, the impact making her teeth chatter. With fury in his eyes, Cal grabbed the man by his sword arm and violently flung him toward the heart of the square. The man spun three times before crashing into Kalimar soldiers and Wayport guards alike, nearly fifty feet away, blasting through a dozen men like a heavy gust through a pile of leaves.

  Lyra grabbed Cal’s sleeve, tugging it.

  “Follow me.”

  She darted toward the nearest street, running through the darkness with the hope of reaching The Poked Pig before the Kalimar soldiers.

  42

  “Darvin! It’s Lyra. Let me in!” Lyra pounded on the door again. “You owe me.”

  “I’ll not open the door ‘til the soldiers are gone!” the man shouted.

  “Stand aside, sir.” Cal replied.

  “What? Why?”

  “I suggest you move aside. Now.”

  Cal turned to Lyra, who nodded. He lifted a leg and kicked, blasting the door off the frame and sending splinters in all directions. The door slammed into the bar across the room, knocking the bar back before the door flipped over it and broke the keg behind it. Frothy ale poured out, covering the dirt floor.

  Darvin stared at the mess, wide-eyed and slack-jawed. His round face transformed from shock to anger as Lyra and Cal stepped into the room.

  “What did you do to my tavern? You filthy…”

  Darvin swung a meaty fist at Lyra, but Cal caught the big man’s wrist, holding it firmly without any apparent effort. The man’s eyes bulged and his knees buckled. Cal released his grip, and the man rubbed his wrist while kneeling on the floor.

  “Didn’t anyone teach you how to treat a lady?” Cal asked. “Certainly, hitting a woman is frowned upon even here in Wayport.”

  Darvin grimaced but remained on his knees.

  Lyra turned to Cal. “I’ll run upstairs to get my bag, and then we can go.”

  Without waiting on a response, Lyra darted up the stairs, pulled the key loop over her head, and unlocked the door. She opened her pack and stuffed her belongings inside before shouldering it, along with both water skins. When she descended, she found Darvin standing beside the cook and the waitress, both of whom appeared confused.

  “You owe me for repairs, Lyra,” Darvin stated.

  Lyra snorted as she reached the taproom floor. “The chunk of gold I gave you is more than enough to pay for this, and you know it. However, you still owe me five days of food, so I’m taking some from the kitchen before I leave.”

  She pushed past him and opened the kitchen door. Moving quickly, she gathered anything edible that she could fit in the pack. When her pack was filled and the kitchen pilfered, she crossed the dining room, and stopped beside the open doorway.

  “Good luck, Darvin. Judging by what’s happening out there, you’ll need it.”

  Lyra hurried down the street with Cal following. When they came to the first intersection, they turned and took another street.

  Upon reaching the opening area at the city entrance, Lyra found Kalimar soldiers occupying the area. Arranged in rows three men deep, the soldiers blocked the width of the road before the closed gate. The front row of soldiers stood ready, holding swords and shields. Behind them stood two rows of men armed with long pikes.

  Moving boldly, Lyra led Cal out into the open and stopped just strides before the line of soldiers.

  “We need to leave the city,” Lyra announced. “Please stand aside so nobody gets hurt.”

  Cal threw his hands up, sounding exasperated. “Why must you do everything the hard way?”

  “Do you have a better idea?” Lyra asked.

  A tall man, with shorn hair and a short-trimmed black beard, stepped forward. His uniform marked him as a sergeant. The man laughed as his gaze flicked from Lyra to Cal.

  “What are you two twerps going to do? Kill us with your sharp wit?”

  Another man pointed toward Lyra. “Sarge! It’s her, one of Tallinor’s girls! I recognize her from the palace.”

  The sergeant scowled, his expression becoming grim.

  “Kill them.”

  Cal shifted to stand before her. “Lyra, sheathe your weapons. I have a plan.”

  She did as instructed and Cal scooped her up, backing away from the advancing soldiers.

  Cal looked down at Lyra and gave her small smile. “You need to hold on to me tightly. I can’t because I might crush you.”

  Lyra wrapped her arms around Cal’s neck and squeezed. He immediately burst into motion, running around the armed men, straight toward the wooden palisades. He leapt into the air, the two of them rising more than two stories off the ground to sail over the line of spiked poles that encircled the city.

  With wide eyes, Lyra experienced a moment of weightlessness. In an oddly detached way, she noticed fire coming from the keep at the center of the city and the shadows of bodies dotting the narrow streets – some in the midst of fighting, while others lay unmoving. They then began to fall, stirring Lyra’s stomach and sending tingles throughout her body as they plummeted toward the ground. Although Cal bent his magic-powered legs to absorb the landing, the sudden impact drove the wind from Lyra’s lungs, leaving her wide-eyed and unable to breathe.

  Cal set her down gently with concern reflected in his eyes. Lyra fell to her hands and knees in the long grass, begging for her lungs to relent. Finally, she gasped and sweet air returned, leaving her panting to reclaim it.

  “Sorry about that.” Cal looked back toward the wall. “I didn’t think about how the landi
ng might affect you.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Lyra choked out. “I’ve often considered breathing overrated anyway.”

  She looked up at Cal and found him grinning.

  “My, how I’ve missed you.”

  Lyra smiled, experiencing relief and joy upon hearing those sweet words. She stood and slid close to him.

  “Do you remember what happened right before you left me?”

  “How could I forget?” Cal’s usually glib tone was missing as he spoke. “The moment is etched in the very fiber of my being.”

  She ran her hand down his bruised face. “When I saw you in the square today, my feelings took hold of me, and I realized that nothing has changed.” Lyra stared into his eyes, ignoring the shouts and screams coming from the city.

  Faced with the moment she had dreamt of for three years, Lyra found herself in an internal battle, torn between an unusual lack of self-confidence and emotions that compelled her to take action. Rather than having to force herself into a decision, Cal made the decision for her.

  He tilted his head and his lips brushed against hers, bringing them to life. Lyra wrapped her arms about his shoulders and sank deeper into the kiss, pouring three years of pent-up emotion into the moment, a moment that lasted forever. However, Lyra found that even forever must reach an end, an end that was actually a beginning.

  Cal smiled at her, the adoration in his gaze flaming the fire Lyra felt inside. Of all the moments she could have imagined, none would ever be as perfect as this.

  “Ugh!” Harman groaned. “More kissing?”

  Jane frowned. “Is there something wrong with kissing?”

  “Well…um…no. I guess not,” he shrugged. “But do you have to keep bringing it up and describing it?”

  “You’re at the age where you’ll soon feel differently about kissing. I bet before the year is out, you’ll have kissed some lucky girl, maybe numerous lucky girls.”

  Harman didn’t respond, wishing to move beyond the subject.

  “Besides,” Jane continued. “This is my story. If I want to describe a bit of kissing here and there, it’s my prerogative.” Her face split into a grin. “That is, unless you’d like me to include more than just kissing. I could make it quite…”

  “No.” Harman’s cheeks grew flush at the thought of his grandmother adding additional romantic details. “Never mind. Just continue on with the story, Grandma.”

  Jane nodded and her grin faded. “Very well. Where was I?”

  “Lyra and Cal just escaped Wayport, and they…kissed.”

  “Thank you.” She resumed her tale. “A tower of flames shot into the night sky, lighting the field where the couple was standing. Screams arose, louder and closer than before…”

  “We should get going.” Cal announced.

  Lyra nodded in agreement. “Yes. But we leave together this time.”

  He grinned and took her hand.

  As they strode toward the tree line, Lyra remembered her gold.

  “Wait. I need to grab something.”

  She counted the trees and guided him toward the tenth one from the road, counting as she entered the shadowed woods. As the darkness began to triumph over the light coming from the city, she dug into her pack and removed the glass jar. A series of quick shakes stirred the contents and the powder inside sprang to life, lighting the area in a soft blue glow.

  “Where did you get that?” he asked. “It looks like one of my light-augmented stones.”

  “I fell into a cave a few days ago and found stripes of glowing stone in the walls. I scraped some off and poured it into this jar for light.”

  “Smart,” Cal nodded.

  Lyra stopped beside the maple and scraped her foot across the leaf-covered forest floor, clearing a patch to reveal freshly dug dirt. Squatting, she scooped the dirt aside to reveal her cache of gold chunks, some the size of her fist.

  “Whoa. Where did you get the gold?”

  She dusted a chunk off and slid it into her pack. “I found it in the same cave.”

  After pulling out five more sizeable chunks and stowing them away, she stood and dusted off her hands.

  “I’m ready. We can go now.”

  Cal smiled and took her hand. “You’re an amazing woman, Lyra. I’m so happy you came back into my life.”

  Lyra recited her tale as they walked. “…but two days before the wedding, Duratti experienced another prophecy. He pleaded with me to leave the Tantarri and journey to Wayport alone. His vision lacked the details of why, only that the future of the Tantarri, of everyone, was at stake.”

  Lyra’s gaze shifted to the sky, finding it bright blue in the east, yet still purple to the west. Birds tweeted from the leaf-covered trees that enveloped the road, serenading the couple on their journey north.

  “During the trip, I fell into the cave I mentioned earlier. That’s where I discovered the glowing stone and the gold, along with another type of rock. Appearing dark and metallic, it ignited with green flame from the slightest spark. A landslide blocked the cave entrance, but I used the flammable rock to blow a hole in the cave and escape. I made it to Wayport a few days later.”

  She turned toward Cal, finding him staring at her, listening intently to her tale.

  “When I saw you with Harrington and his men, I knew why I needed to go to Wayport. Whether he knew it or not, Duratti sent me there to save you.”

  “I must thank the man when I see him next.” Cal grinned. “I should find a way to thank you as well.”

  “I’m sure you’ll think of something.” Lyra gave him a sly smile, and Cal chuckled.

  His laugh faded to a sigh. “I am truly sorry about Tallinor. He seemed a good man and a good king. It troubles me that this young usurper has control of the throne, of how he might abuse it.”

  “I’m afraid of what type of king Donte might be. The boy I knew was sweet and kind, but that appears to have been part of his charade.” Lyra shook her head. “I guess I never really knew him.”

  “Betrayal is the most hurtful of crimes. I’m sorry that you had to endure it, even indirectly.” Cal took her hand and looked at it as he held it. “What’s with the bandage anyway?”

  Lyra frowned. “A street rat cut my purse and made off with it. When I tried to grab him, he sliced my palm with his knife.”

  “Would you like it healed?”

  “I don’t think so.” She shook her head. “It doesn’t hurt much, and it will heal on its own soon. Save your magic for something more important.”

  “I find it impossible to imagine something more important than you, Lyra.”

  In spite of herself, Lyra blushed. “Well played. Keep it up, and you might yet have me wrapped about your finger.”

  “If true, it would be my greatest magic.”

  Lyra smiled and squeezed his hand, ignoring the soreness of her palm. The pain was a small price to pay.

  “What about you, Cal? What became of you after you left me back in Sol Limar? How did you end up in a cell awaiting execution?”

  Cal sighed, “The tale is long, yet is easily summed up. I left Kalimar, knowing that it would be years before Tallinor would allow Issal’s teachings to return to his country. Rather than try Vinacci, I opted to head west, toward the frontier. When I arrived in Wayport, it seemed a good place to resume my research. Using the gold provided by Tallinor for my part in thwarting The Hand’s scheme, I bought a building. With a small apartment at the back for me to live in, I converted the main section into a temple.”

  “Things moved slowly, but I was eventually able to bring in followers, those who believed in Issal’s teachings and the power of his healing. Unfortunately, that same healing is what got me into trouble. Last week, a man came in with a child who had been in an accident. The boy’s arm had been torn off in a gear at the flourmill, and he had lost much blood. Fortunately, the man had wrapped the wound to slow the blood flow, and I was able to save the boy. However, the father brought the mangled arm in and demanded that I heal t
he boy back whole. I explained that it was impossible, but the man wouldn’t have it. He left unhappy, claiming that I had doomed the boy to a lesser life because of his missing limb. Three days later, the man returned with Harrington’s men and charged me with witchcraft, stating that I had conspired with demons to perform black magic, that I used my power to deceive others into following a false god. The men rushed me before I could use my magic, bound me in shackles, and hauled me to a jail cell. You saw me on the platform in the square the next day, presented to the citizens of Wayport as a warning to others who might attempt to use magic within the city.”

  Lyra nodded. “They locked you back in the cell, and I showed up later that night.”

  Cal nodded in return.

  “But Harrington said that you killed a number of his guards and wounded others before they captured you.”

  Cal shrugged. “Lies. I expect that he wanted me to appear more sinister, and the added drama of the story increased his leverage against me.”

  Lyra considered Cal’s story, thinking about the horrible event that the boy endured. “I find it tragic that the boy’s father couldn’t appreciate the miracle of his son’s survival, despite the loss of a limb.”

  “True,” Cal agreed. “However, I have faith in Issal’s greater plan. That series of events brought you back to me for a reason. In addition, the nature of Duratti’s prophecy proves that I still have important things to accomplish.” He smiled at her again. “Perhaps we are to accomplish them together.”

  “There you go, again,” Lyra warned him. “At this rate, we’ll be married before the week is out.”

  Lyra led Cal across the footbridge, its narrow width forcing them to cross in single file. Noise from the raging waters below drowned out all other sounds, the heavy flow over submerged rocks causing white licks of foam to appear and rapidly drift downriver. Upon reaching the far side, Lyra glanced up at the sky, bright blue save for occasional puffy white clouds floating past, one of which eclipsed the mid-day sun. The cool mountain breeze eased the mid-summer heat, making the weather pleasant while wearing her Tantarri outfit. She had noticed Cal appreciating the way it clung to her body. After two months of wearing the tight leather garb, Lyra found that she enjoyed the way it made her feel sensual, yet appear intimidating.