Rogue Legacy by Jeffrey L. Kohanek (snow like ashes .txt) 📕

Before leaving the manor, Lyra had donned the tunic and breeches she wore when they first met. She found her manner subdued, her mood somber. Cal made numerous attempts at conversation during the hour-long journey, but Lyra’s responses had been half-hearted and those conversations had died quickly.

They crested a rise with the setting sun to their backs, its orange light giving an amber tint to the long dry grass that pervaded the fields. Lyra spotted the Tantarri camp at the edge of the wood and realized one of the wagons was on fire, spouting black smoke as people dumped buckets of water upon it.

Alarmed, she broke into a run. Down the slope, through the thigh-high grass she sprinted toward the burning wagon. Women in their bright colored dresses had formed a line, passing buckets of water from the creek that ran at the edge of the wood. As she neared the camp, she found Flori kneeling beside a prone form. Running past the bucket line, Lyra slowed as she reached the other girl.

Flori looked up with tears streaking down her face, her hands holding Eddrick’s limp hand. The man had a nasty gash in his neck and dark wetness stained the shoulder of his red tunic.

“He’s dead. They killed him and took the others,” Flori sobbed. “My father’s dead, and Gar is gone. My life is in ruins.”

Lyra put her hand on Flori’s shoulder. “Who did this, Flori? Where’s Gar?”

“Soldiers. Soldiers with a circular emblem on their shields. They killed him.” A slobbering burst of sobs emerged, leaving her gasping and heaving.

“Flori. I need you to tell me where Gar is. Where are the other men?”

“He’s gone. They’re all gone.” Numi said from her seat on a nearby log. “The soldiers shackled them and took them away. They set a wagon on fire as a warning to prevent us from following.” The woman shook her head, her face sorrowful. “I never thought I’d witness the day…our leader murdered…our men stolen away. The clan is broken.”

Cal stepped closer, wearing a grim expression. “The emblem you mentioned. Does it look like this?”

He pulled his black cloak from his pack and showed them the symbol sewn on the collar.

Numi nodded. “Yeah. That’s the one.”

His lips press together in a thin line. “It’s the Ministry. They took them. I’m afraid I know why, too.”

Lyra turned back toward Numi. “Which way did they go?”

The old woman pointed southeast, toward a road that lay a half-mile from their camp.

Recalling the pain of watching her own father die, Lyra gave Flori’s shoulder a soft squeeze but had no words to offer as the girl sobbed over the man in her arms.

Turning about, Lyra walked toward the road, in the direction Numi had pointed. Cal caught up to her.

“Where are you going?”

“I need to do something. I have to try.” Lyra didn’t know what to do, but she remained resolute in her decision. “Those men have nobody else. The Tantarri herd cattle for a living and dance for fun. They’re not soldiers. Without help, those men are doomed. Without the men to help these women, life will be hard, perhaps worse than that.” She shook her head. “These people need each other.”

“Well, you’re not doing it alone,” Cal replied. “I’m coming with you. This is my fault. Perhaps not by intention, but surely by deed.”

Lyra wondered what he meant. The man was frustratingly cryptic at times, but she didn’t care. She was happy to have him and his magic to help because they would likely need a miracle.