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

Urged by an empty stomach, Lyra forced herself forward. With the dull glow of smoldering coals to guide her through the darkness, she crept from her post in the trees and snuck into the camp, which had been quiet for half an hour.

Sneaking past the first row of wagons, she stopped mid-step when a loud snore from the nearest wagon startled her. The snore repeated twice more by the time she resumed her journey toward the remains of the side of beef, still on the spit above the simmering coals.

Hearing a growl, she froze, carefully turning toward the sound. A dog with long brown, gray, and white hair lay beneath a wagon, rising to its feet as the growl continued.

“That’s a good boy,” Lyra said in a soothing voice.

The growling stopped, the dog cocking its head to the side.

“Your technique needs some work,” a man’s voice said.

Lyra turned toward the voice and found a young man leaning against a wagon, his legs crossed at the ankles and arms crossed before his chest.

“Patience, my dear,” the man said as he stepped toward her. “You should have waited longer, really allowed those within camp to slip into a deep sleep. Another hour at least.”

Lyra frowned at the man, her eyes narrowing as he approached. He had long black hair and a handsome tanned face. Her gaze locked with his dark eyes, thinking he was perhaps five years her elder. His tunic was a bright yellow, contrasting his blue breeches and tall black leather boots.

“You move well enough. I almost didn’t hear you.” His eyes flicked toward the dog. “Ranja almost didn’t hear you either.” He nodded. “I can teach you.”

Lyra’s brow furrowed. “You want to teach me to steal? You just caught me trying to steal from you.”

The man shrugged. “Look where you’re heading. You’re after our meat. If you wanted anything more, you would have waited longer, headed toward a wagon, and would have been holding a weapon.”

Lyra glanced toward the remains of beef, her mouth watering again as she stared at it.

The man laughed. “I knew it. Go on and eat. You must be hungry.”

Not bothering to respond, Lyra headed toward the spit and began pulling chunks of beef from it, finding it still warm, the outside dry and chewy while the inside was tender and moist. As the chunks of meat gathered in her mouth, the salty juice made her mouth water even while she chewed. Her gaze shifted to the man, finding him on one knee as he petted the dog. She continued watching him as she worked on the chewy meat.

Despite her reluctance to trust anyone, she found the man’s kind eyes and easy manner compelling. He reminded her of Roland, which left her longing for home.

“What’s your name?” She popped another chunk of beef into her mouth and chewed.

The man smiled. “I’m Gar, and you would be…”

Lyra paused her chewing, thinking for a moment. “Tali. My name’s Tali.”

Gar’s brow lifted. “Tali? Like the game played with knucklebones?”

Lyra shrugged. “Yeah. So what?”

Gar stood, holding his hands up. “No offense meant. Tali is a pretty name and suits a pretty girl like you.”

By instinct, Lyra’s hand went to the knife strapped to her thigh. “If you try anything, you’ll regret it.”

Gar held his hands higher. “You’ve got me wrong. I’m just being friendly.” He chuckled. “You have some fight in you.” He nodded, lowering his hands. “That’s good. I can work with that.”

Lyra let her hand drop and stepped away from the spit, her hunger seemingly satisfied. “I haven’t seen wagons like this before. Who are you people?”

Gar nodded. “Exactly right.”

Lyra frowned. “What does that mean?”

“People. We are a people. We are the free, the wanderers, and the kingdomless. We follow the Path of the Butterfly, flitting from meadow to meadow as the weather takes us.” His arms spread open as he slowly spun in a circle. “We have no homes and pay no taxes. We work for nobody, and we fight no wars.” He smiled, nodding toward her. “We are the Tantarri.”