Rogue Legacy - Jeffrey L. Kohanek (dark academia books to read TXT) 📗
- Author: Jeffrey L. Kohanek
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Suddenly, a man with a shaved head and a black leather vest rose up from the grass, just a handful of strides before them. Other warriors appeared to her left and right, all with tanned scalps, shorn save a single black topknot that hung down the back. In unison, they lifted spears and aimed the barbed tips toward Lyra and Tiri.
“Stop!” the man before her commanded. “What are you doing on our land?”
Lyra glanced at Tiri and found her sister’s eyes flicking about in fear. “We mean no harm. We didn’t know it was your land…in fact we don’t even know where we are.”
“You will come with us.”
The man turned and began walking north. The others holding the spears gathered behind the girls, the tips drawing dangerously close when they hesitated. Finally, Lyra grabbed Tiri’s arm and followed the man.
“Where are you taking us?”
“We take you to the clan leader. He will decide if you live… or if you die.”
As they passed the first herd of cattle, two warriors peeled off from the others, leaving Lyra and Tiri with an escort of three. Lyra considered fighting the men, but she had never trained against a spear and felt unsure of the outcome.
After another half-hour of walking, they passed a second herd of cattle. Those tending the cattle raised their fists, holding them high as the group walked past. The man leading the group held his fist high in some sort of greeting.
Over the next four hours, they journeyed north across the never-ending fields. During that time, they passed three more herds of cattle, each with an escort of five men…all sporting a topknot surrounded by a smooth, tanned scalp.
The man turned, and Lyra realized that they were on a trail, the grass trampled in a path three strides wide, wagon wheel ruts marking the edges. They continued down the path for a while before the ground began to slope downward. A low area suddenly became apparent, with more than a dozen brightly colored wagons in a circle at the bottom of the grass-covered bowl. A man with long dark hair emerged from the wagons and a wave of joy washed over Lyra. She burst into a run, darting past warrior in the lead.
“Gar!” she cried, her hat falling off just before she reached him.
“Tali?”
He grunted as she slammed into him, wrapping her arms about him tightly. Her eyes closed in a moment of relief and joy as he returned her embrace. When his arms relaxed, she let hers fall away and stepped back, drying her tears.
“What are you doing here?” He looked her up and down. “And why are you dressed like that?”
“Something happened, and we had to flee Kalimar.” She looked down at herself. “I wore this to disguise myself.”
Gar’s gaze shifted past her, locking onto Tiri. His mouth fell open and something sparked within his gaze.
“Who is this vision that accompanies you?”
Lyra turned toward Tiri, waving her forward. “This is Tiri…my sister.”
Gar’s gaze flicked to Lyra and back to Tiri as she approached. “Sister?”
“Well, not technically. I was…sort of adopted by her father.”
Gar moved forward to meet Tiri, taking her hand and bending to kiss it. He looked up at her with his dark eyes, his smile showing white teeth amidst the dark stubble of his unshaven face.
“Well met, my dear. You truly grace us with your beauty.”
Lyra had seen others react in a similar manner to Tiri’s appearance, but few had Gar’s smooth nature and none rivaled his handsome looks. She felt a stab of jealousy for her sister, who actually blushed at the compliment.
“Thank you, kind sir.” Tiri smiled, a flower blossoming to Gar’s sunlight.
Gar called out, “You can put the spears away. These two ladies are our honored guests.”
Holding out an elbow to Tiri, she took it, and he led her toward the wagons. Lyra frowned and tried to swallow her envy, but found the taste quite bitter.
As they entered the camp, other familiar faces appeared, most with shaved heads save for a single tail, banded at the scalp and hanging down the back of their head. Most were dressed in a black leather vest and breaches, even the women.
“Hello, Flori.” Lyra gave the girl a smile.
“Tali?” Flori’s eyes brightened, and her arms wrapped about Lyra.
Surprised, Lyra silently hugged the girl back. The moment they released their embrace, Midurri slipped in and hugged Lyra.
“I’m happy to see you, Tali.”
“It’s good to see you as well.” Lyra bit her lip. “I’m sorry if this sounds rude…but, why are your heads shaved?”
Gar turned toward her and nodded. “Yes. We have much to catch up on.” He turned toward the other girls. “Flori. Midurri. Will you please help Tali and Tiri get cleaned up? Also, find them some suitable clothing.” Gar released Tiri’s arm and gave her a bow. “I will meet you ladies beside the fire.” He turned toward Lyra. “We will feast to celebrate Tali’s return, and I will explain what became of the Tantari since our last meeting.”
Tiri sat on the edge of the bed, pulling tall boots onto legs bare below the leather shorts she had been provided. Lyra did the same and thanked the girls helping them. Flori and Midurri exited the wagon, leaving Lyra and Tiri alone. The moment the door closed, Tiri turned toward Lyra.
“Why do they call you Tali?”
Lyra pulled the laces on her vest tight, ensuring no gap remained between the black leather panels before tying them together. “I met these people while I was fleeing Vingarri, focused on evading my father’s murderers. At the time, using a different name seemed a good idea.” She bit her lip as she finished tying the laces. “Once you’re deep into a lie like that, it becomes difficult to tell the truth. I had earned their trust and was in fear of losing it.”
Tiri stared at Lyra for a moment and then nodded. “Very well.” She smiled. “Tali.”
Lyra smiled in return. “Thank you.” She nodded. “Are you ready?”
Tiri nodded and Lyra opened the door, emerging from the wagon to find flickering firelight bathing the camp in orange. Stars dotted the night sky above, like a black canvas with holes punched in it.
Dozens of people milled about the area, many sitting upon up-ended crates or barrels. A full side of beef strung on a spit sizzled over the flames, the aroma causing Lyra’s mouth to water. A woman spread a bucket of potatoes and squash across a metal grate near the beef, the flames causing the vegetables to sizzle in mere seconds.
Squeals and a burst of laughter drew Lyra’s attention to a group of children, kneeling in a circle. She judged their ages to range from four to twelve summers, and every child had a full head of hair. Two of the children stood in the middle, a girl and a boy playing a game of knucklebones. The girl tossed her taw upward, scooped up all four bones in a swipe, and caught the taw. Laughter and cheers erupted again. Some of the children stood to congratulate the winner, patting her on the back. The girl turned toward the fire, and Lyra realized that it was Gar’s sister, Dari. Now a full head taller than when Lyra last saw her, the girl’s expression carried a weight that her younger self lacked.
Gar spoke with a group of Tantarri, the warriors nodding and running off into the night as he approached Lyra and Tiri.
“Hello, Tali, Tiri.” He smiled, his gaze lingering on Tiri. “You two look wonderful.”
Lyra looked down at herself, feeling self-conscious at the way the vest exposed her upper chest. Although the top revealed less skin than some dresses she had worn, the snug fit caused a bulge that made the region more noticeable. When combined with form-fitting leather shorts and tall boots that left her thighs bare – save for the dagger strapped there – she couldn’t decide if she looked silly, intimidating, or overtly sexy. Perhaps all three.
Her gaze flicked toward Tiri, dressed in a similar manner but with a singular result. Despite her sweet, innocent nature, the girl oozed sex appeal. Lyra worried that Tiri’s vest might be unable to contain contents that threatened to spill over at any moment. Lyra’s concern grew to alarm when the girl bowed to Gar.
“Thank you for your kindness, Sir Gar,” Tiri said with a smile.
Two Tantarri men moved to the ends of the spit, grunting as they lifted the side of beef free and carried it away. The woman tending
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