Clanless Page 11

  The other Raven had the decency to look sheepish.

  Sani pushed up onto his knees and went to remove his own armor. He was instantly tackled by one of the warriors. Another removed his own wood-slatted chest plate and forced it into Gryphon’s hands. The man was so narrow, Gryphon had no hope of strapping on the armor, but he was too stunned by Sani’s rash decision and the effect it had on the men to do anything but hold it stupidly in his arms.

  Little Sani, a boy Joshua’s age, was the clear leader of their suicidal band. Gryphon shook his head in wonder and handed the armor back to the warrior who offered it. “No, thank you,” he said. Then he turned to Sani. “You don’t belong here, boy. Or have you already forgotten the ruthlessness of my clan?”

  Sani clasped two hands in front of him and shrugged. “The boats have left. This conversation is pointless.” He turned his attention back to the mainland and left Gryphon gaping.

  The redwoods groaned as the last splinters of wood snapped under the weight of the giant conifer. When they fell, it was as if a portion of the sky fell with them. The tree Gryphon and the Raven warriors perched in shook as the wooden carcasses connected with the island to form a bridge.

  The Raven murmured curses, their hatred for Gryphon’s people almost as tangible as their agony over the loss of their trees. Their ancestors.

  “I’m sorry.” Gryphon whispered when the sound of breaking branches and shifting ground ceased. It needed to be said, even though the apology wasn’t nearly enough to balm the pain of losing so much.

  The twenty Raven warriors each nocked an arrow but stayed low and out of view. Gryphon was more accustomed to seeing Raven from the ground as they fired upon him. This new vantage point gave him a deeper appreciation for the discipline of the Birds.

  The Ram couldn’t keep formation as they climbed over and under branches of the felled trees to get to the island. One of the Raven warriors stretched his bow, practically shaking with the desire to kill.

  “Don’t,” said Gryphon. “You’ll give away our position.” The man looked ready to turn his bow on Gryphon, but didn’t. They all knew their only chance of escape was through stealth.

  Ten Ram made it to shore. Then twenty. Thirty. They linked back into formation, holding their shields aloft and spears at the ready. They scanned the trees, each man protecting his brother’s back as the army advanced along the road that led deeper into the island.

  Men he’d known his whole life approached the Raven’s first trap—a trip wire made from Lion’s Silk triggered to set off a slew of automatic crossbows. The deepest form of betrayal was to sit and watch his clansmen walk unknowingly to their deaths. The desire to call out to them, to warn them, filled his lungs.

  He could save them. It would be so easy. By doing so, he might earn back his place in his clan. Zo was gone, and Joshua had a better shot at happiness without him in his life.

  If he helped the Ram—his people—he might be allowed to the go back to his family home and to his mother. She’d be happy to have him, even after his betrayal. Ajax still needed help concealing his new son’s birth defect from Ram authorities, and it would be nice to get back to training with his mess brothers—with the exception of Zander, of course.

  Gryphon shook his head and pushed his clenched fists into his forehead. Logic raged against the convictions of his heart. How could he go back and serve in Barnabas’s ranks? How could he sit by and let his people die? No matter what damage the Raven traps did today, the Ram were too strong to be defeated, even by the combined forces of the Kodiak, Raven, and Wolves. What use was there going against the winning player in the region’s power struggle? Why not preserve himself? It would be so much easier.

  Gryphon recalled a training session he’d designed for Joshua when the boy was only ten years old. He’d set markers in the field in front of his family home for Joshua to run sprints. Joshua, always eager to learn, nodded his head vigorously as Gryphon explained the drill. Later, when he looked out the window to check on Joshua’s progress, he saw that the boy had moved the markers closer together to make for a shorter run.

  Gryphon remembered the lecture he’d given Joshua as if it were only yesterday. The easy path is for cowards, he’d said.

  Gryphon clamped his jaw shut and forced himself to watch what was in his power to prevent. His decision made.

  His people walked blindly into the Lion’s Silk. They were so concerned with protecting themselves from an aerial assault they didn’t notice the trip wire. It all happened at once. The Lion’s Silk let off a metallic whine as it stretched. The trigger released fifty arrows shot at an upward angle from the ground—something the Ram hadn’t anticipated. Men cried out in pain. At least half of the first two mess units dropped to the ground. Any other group of men would have fled, but the Ram regrouped. The survivors of the two units merged into one and the marching continued with more vigor than before.

  Gryphon’s whole frame shook with sorrow as his people stepped over the bodies of their clansmen to continue deeper into the island. Ram faces blurred in Gryphon’s vision as they filed past. A small hand touched his shoulder when the last of the Ram left the tree bridges for island soil.

  “It’s time,” said Sani.

  Gryphon nodded and pushed up to his feet a changed man. A Ram no more.

  “They’re called Clanless,” Zo said a second time. A crowd had gathered around her and Stone, all wanting the same answers Stone demanded. It was still hard to believe that she was the only one, besides maybe Tess, who knew anything about the people wandering the mountain without the protection of a clan. She reminded herself that most Nameless live their whole lives inside the walls of Ram’s Gate as slaves. They were like children when it came to life outside the Gate.

  “They’re nomads. People without a clan who wander the mountains.”

  Stone ran a hand over his shaved head. “Why haven’t we seen them before?”

  Zo shrugged. “They give Ram’s Gate a wide berth. No one wants to tangle with the Ram.”

  A Nameless man broke through the circle. Blood ran down the side of his face. “They took my wife. How do we get her back?”

  Zo scanned the group, looking for someone to take charge of this situation. Someone like Gryphon, who knew how to lead. But even Stone awaited her answer.

  Zo stumbled over her words. She wasn’t a leader and had no desire to be responsible for these people. For some reason, she thought she’d be able to sink back into the crowd of Nameless and let Stone handle things from here. But no one else had traveled this terrain. Her opinion carried weight.

  A terrifying thought.

  “Th … they like to barter,” Zo said. “They like to kidnap and ransom the prisoners for food and supplies.”

  “But we don’t have supplies,” Stone growled.

  Zo looked around at the haggard bunch. Desperation stripped the joy of escape from their faces. They were captives again.

  And Zo couldn’t stand it.

  “We’ll get her back,” Zo blurted. “But nothing can be done until the morning.” She attempted to fill her lungs with slow, deep breaths, but still couldn’t manage to get enough air. “Where is the man Joshua helped capture?” she asked with a voice more shaky than the confident tone she’d intended.

  Stone’s eyebrows lifted. “He’s over by the—”

  “Double your night watch and take me to him,” she said. “The rest of you need to sleep. Tomorrow is a big day.” She knew the families of those taken by the Clanless wouldn’t find any rest tonight, but they had to try. Zo turned back to Tess and Joshua. “You two need to stay with me. Do you understand?” Tess chewed on her bottom lip, but nodded while Joshua stood behind her, resting his hands on Tess’s shoulders. “We will.” He looked down at Tess then back up at Zo and puffed out his chest. The gesture spoke volumes. He would look out for her. Be Tess’s protector if she needed one.

  Zo nodded, choking down the emotion Joshua’s response elicited
in her. They were a family, the three of them. Joshua and Tess were both too young to be required to be so brave, but still they looked at Zo as if she held all of the answers of the universe and would have no difficulty solving this and all other problems.

  She knew they were wrong, but hoped what she had to offer might keep them alive.

  Stone led them toward the center of the circular camp, where the smell of unwashed bodies reminded her of her time spent sleeping in the Nameless barracks inside Ram’s Gate. At the center, a man lay on his stomach with arms bound behind his back. His head lay in the dirt, his eyes closed as if he were asleep.

  “Wake him,” said Zo.

  Stone grabbed the man’s bound hands and pulled him up so he sat on his knees. Then Stone took a handful of the prisoner’s tattered shirt. He curled a fist like he might strike him, but he turned back to Zo, waiting for instruction.

  “What is your name?” Zo stood next to Stone and the Clanless man.

  He grunted something unintelligible. His hair and beard were so full she had trouble finding his face beneath the mess. No wonder the rest of the Nameless thought he was an animal.

  “Answer me,” said Zo.

  The man looked straight ahead, refusing to make eye contact.

  Stone threw his fist into his face. “You will speak to her or you will die. Choose wisely.”

  Zo shook her head and noticed something on the man’s face. She nudged Stone out of the way. “Someone bring me a torch.”

  With more light, Zo saw a cut on the man’s cheek that had been reopened by Stone’s fist. The wound was red around the edges and oozed pus. “My kit,” Zo called over her shoulder to Joshua. The boy sprinted off into the darkness while Tess inched closer to the wounded man. “It’s infected, isn’t it?” she said.

  At the sound of Tess’s small voice, the animalistic man turned his head.

  “Yes, kid. How would you treat this?” Zo asked, all the while studying the man, who seemed to relax in Tess’s presence.

  Tess rattled off her list as though she was back in the Allied Camp, reciting one of her daily lessons in the Healer’s Tent. “Clean it. Pack it with wool soaked in witch-hazel and garlic. And a blessing of purification.”

  “Very good,” said Zo.

  “Healers,” the man said in a raspy voice. His Ram accent was so heavy Zo could barely make out the word.

  He looked over at Zo and smiled. “Pretty healers.”

  Stone stepped in to strike the man again, but Zo held him back. “Please. Give us some space.”

  “Pain,” said Stone over Zo. “I’ve lived with the Ram long enough to know how to make you wish you were dead, Clanless.”

  Zo sighed. They wouldn’t get anywhere with Stone spouting threats every other second.

  “Do you want to treat him?” Zo said, ignoring both men and giving her attention to Tess, “Or should I?” She wouldn’t be able to manage the blessing, but the herbs would help him well enough.

  Tess was usually overeager to practice her budding skills as a healer, but this man, with all his hair and filth, made her pause. She finally tilted her head to one side and asked him, “What’s your name?”

  The man squinted at her through the curtain of his wild and matted hair as if deciding whether answering the child would cost him. He finally grunted and said, “Name’s Boar.” His voice sounded like rocks rubbed against each other.

  “Will you hurt me, Boar?” asked Tess.

  It was such an honest question, some of the fight in the man’s body visibly slipped away. His mouth fell open a fraction of an inch and, when Boar’s gaze dropped to the ground, Zo knew the man had met his match with Tess.

  Unless this was all an act.

  “I—” the man struggled to clear his throat, “I won’t harm you, child.”

  Stone made to protest, but Zo silenced him with a look.

  “I found it!” Joshua said. His red hair matched the torch’s flame as he approached carrying Zo’s medical satchel.

  Zo rested it on the floor in front of her little sister and stepped back.

  “I’ll need hot water,” said Tess, as she bravely crouched in front of Boar.

  Healing was a difficult skill to master. Not just anyone could do it. There were, of course, certain things that could be taught. Zo’s mother had written down all of her recipes for various remedies, powders, oils, and concoctions. But healing wasn’t like baking. So much of a person’s ability to heal came from their ability to find love and compassion for those they treated. One also had to tap into a spiritual energy that very few had the ability to control. The skill was hereditary, which is why most healers learned the art from a parent.

  Tess didn’t see the hard set to Joshua’s shoulders as he hovered behind her. A pot of steaming hot water was set at her side. She took a deep breath, dipped a clean swath of cotton into the water, and lifted it to the man’s cheek. “How did you cut yourself?” she asked.

  The man flinched under her ministrations. “Knife.”

  As usual, Tess bit her bottom lip while she worked. “Were you running with it?”

  Boar snorted, making Tess flinch until she saw the man’s yellow smile. “Wasn’t my knife what done it,” he said.

  Tess tossed the soiled cotton aside and searched Zo’s kit for what she needed. She sighed. “I’m so tired of people fighting. Why do people have to hurt each other?”

  “Food,” said Boar, wincing this time as Tess applied her medicines.

  “Were you fighting over food when you got this?” asked Tess.

  Zo had trained her sister to keep her patients talking as a way of distracting them from pain, but she’d never expected her sister to feel so at ease with someone like Boar. It reminded her of their mother. She never cared who it was she was healing, only that the job was done well.

  “Is that what you’re after? Food?” Zo sat next to her sister with her legs tucked underneath her.

  Boar eyed her with about as much trust as he might a snake. “Something like that.”

  “She’s my sister,” Tess whispered. “She’s good.”

  How could the word of one little girl wield so much power? But then, Tess was so pure, so innocent, that if she bestowed her trust, then perhaps he should too.

  “I’ll talk. But you must give your word to let me free.”

  Zo should have talked the decision over with Stone, but said, “Agreed. So long as you help us get our people back.”

  Stone sounded as if he was gagging on a tough piece of meat, but Zo ignored him and gave Boar every ounce of her attention.

  “We’re starving,” the Clanless said with a shrug of his shoulders. “When we can’t find animals to hunt, we take people.”

  “I don’t understand,” said Tess. She secured a bandage to his cheek and sat back with arms folded. “How would stealing people make you less hungry?”

  “Meat,” was his only reply.

  Stone stood up and walked over, rage vibrated off his skin. “You filthy, disgusting—”

  “Joshua,” Zo snapped, jumping up to hold Stone at bay. “Take Tess to bed. It’s been a long day.”

  “But—I didn’t do the blessing,” Tess protested as Joshua scooped her up and threw her over his shoulder like a sack of flour.

  “I’ll take care of the blessing,” Zo lied.

  Tess parted the blond hair that fell into her face and waved a “goodnight” to Boar.

  Boar’s eyes tracked her as she left the campfire with Joshua. “She’s so innocent,” he said. “Are all children so … pure?”

  Zo ignored the question.

  “Are you telling me that these people you took tonight are meant to be a meal?” She must have misunderstood him. Humans didn’t debase themselves to that level.

  Boar’s whole demeanor shifted. He stared down his nose at her and said, “You have no idea what it’s like. Having to fight for every little thing in life. A bit of bread, a handful of berries,
a morsel of meat.” He scoffed, “Even a soft spot to lay our heads comes with a price.”

  “But to eat … people?” Zo held the back of her hand to her mouth and fought a violent gag reflex. She trembled to think that she’d let Tess near him!

  Stone landed another fist to Boar’s face, this time knocking him onto his back. Then he kicked him in the side twice before Zo stopped him. As disgusting as Boar was, killing him wouldn’t bring Stone’s people back.

  Boar groaned and spat a mouthful of blood at Stone’s boots. He turned to Zo. “Have you ever been hungry, healer? Really hungry?”

  “Hasn’t everyone?”

  Boar’s chest filled with wind and he barked, “No! No one but the Clanless really know what it’s like to feel like Ram spears are jabbing at your innards ALL. THE. TIME. It’s all we can think about. Look at me,” he demanded. “I wasn’t always an animal. I have no family. No home. Nothing to love. Nothing to protect but myself. And I’m so tired of being hungry.”

  Zo studied the man with a more critical eye, beyond the tattered clothes and messy hair. His eyes were sunken, his arms and legs, though wired with some muscle, were bare of any excess fat. The gums around his yellow teeth were pale instead of a healthy pink.

  “Are our people dead?” asked Zo, solemnly.

  The man shook his head. “We felled an elk a week ago. We’re still living off that for a time, but people don’t usually travel through these parts, and our leader didn’t want to waste … resources, just in case. Spring comes late in the mountains. We’re desperate.”

  There was no justification for trading your humanity. Whoever these men were, they were the darkest kind of evil. Zo had never heard of the Clanless banding together in large groups. How many of them were there? Enough to terrorize this group all the way to the Allies?

  “I’ve heard that the Clanless like to barter. Could we make a trade?” she said.

  Boar studied her and then looked over at Stone. “S’possible. Depends on what you’re willing to part with.” Boar licked his lips, as if the idea gave him pleasure.