Clanless Read online

  “You won’t,” said Gryphon.

  “But what if I do?”

  Gryphon covered Joshua’s mouth and looked over his shoulder to make sure the watchman didn’t hear. They were still far enough away that he couldn’t make out a man’s form. The tall shadow standing near the rock—the watchman, if Gryphon wasn’t mistaken—didn’t move from his position.

  Gryphon turned back to Joshua and tugged at a leather strap, freeing the boy’s sling. Gryphon weighed the child’s weapon in his hand and whispered, “I’ll do it.”

  Joshua snatched the sling from Gryphon’s hands and climbed to his feet. “You’re a terrible shot.” Too loud again.

  “Kid, if you’re doubting yourself—”

  “I know, I know. If I doubt myself, I’ve already failed.”

  “Then I’ll ask again.” Gryphon placed the sling reverently in Joshua’s smaller hands. “Can you do this?”

  Joshua’s fingers closed around his weapon of choice. “Yes. I can do this.” He took a deep breath. “For Zo.”

  Zo rested with her hands by the fire but couldn’t turn off her thoughts long enough to allow sleep to set in. She’d promised these barbarians she’d help free their Nameless families and packaged her life in the deal! It was pure madness. But she’d likely do it again if it ensured that she wouldn’t have to walk into Ram’s Gate as a bargaining chip for Boar.

  What would she tell Tess and Joshua when they reached the Allies? “Yes, I’m back, but don’t count on me staying for long. I’ve got to help wild men free their families from Barnabas.”

  Utter insanity.

  Commander Laden would be furious that she committed herself—and vicariously, his men—to this new endeavor. Maybe she’d have a chance of freeing the Nameless while the Allies went to battle with the Ram, but that could be five years from now or even ten, depending on the growth and preparedness of Commander Laden’s forces. Ikatou and his men wouldn’t wait that long.

  What have I done?

  Zo turned to rest her head in the crook of her elbow, still making sure to keep the backs of her mangled hands facing the fire. Ikatou said she couldn’t stitch the cuts; the wounds needed to heal naturally to create a proper scar. A lifelong reminder of her promise. Fearing infection, Zo relied on the heat of the fire to seal the wounds. That was, of course, assuming the bear claw used to make the cuts wasn’t contaminated. She doubted Ikatou took the time to regularly clean the evil tool.

  Restless, Zo rolled onto her back to study the wounds with hands raised to the light of the fire. The flesh looked torn instead of cut. As it was, blood dried thick on clumps of ragged skin. Whenever she flexed her hand into a fist, the wound reopened and fresh blood leaked through the marred mess to add yet another layer.

  Zo rolled over again, this time facing the fire. When she was only a little girl and her parents were still alive, Zo associated campfires with stories and songs, not a place to dry out gory wounds. She closed her eyes and imagined a melody from her childhood, a song Wolves sung when they pondered the state of the region. A lament with a melody so careful and clear it brought tears to her eyes. If only she could hear it aloud. She hadn’t sung since she was a child—did she even know how to sing anymore?

  Zo wiped her eyes, smearing a streak of blood across her cheek, but paused when she spotted movement above one of the rock pillars.

  Chapter 27

  While Joshua hiked over the giant boulders to peer down at the sleeping camp, Gryphon approached the fire head on. He crawled on hands and knees, only daring to advance when the man at the entrance of the cave wasn’t looking.

  To call the watchman large was a gross understatement. With the fire at his back, his features were cast in heavy shadow. The outline of a full beard turned half his face black. He certainly didn’t fit the image Gryphon envisioned of the starving Clanless who roamed the land. This man had muscle to spare and, by the looks of him, ate like a chieftain.

  He had to be a Kodiak, which meant Gryphon had more than met his match physically. He’d never fought a Kodiak outside of his mess unit’s phalanx formation. If Joshua missed his target that would all change tonight. But instead of fighting just one Kodiak with his fists, he’d be devoured by a whole group of them. He should have told Joshua to run away if his stone didn’t fell the Bear. Why hadn’t he thought to do that? It wasn’t like him not to think through a plan before putting it into motion. The thought of Zo sleeping so close by rattled every rationale he possessed.

  Gryphon threw a rock twenty yards away, awakening the watchman from the trance men develop after hours spent staring at shadows. The Kodiak stepped away from his group to get a better vantage of the mountain. Above his head, he didn’t see Joshua perched atop one of the giant stone pillars.

  Just a few more steps, Gryphon urged. They couldn’t afford for Joshua to fell the watchman so close to his men and risk the chance of waking the others. The untrained watchman might have heeded Gryphon’s mental urgings, but this Kodiak-sized Clanless showed his training by only glancing in all directions. He wouldn’t be lured from his post.

  What were they thinking? He and Joshua couldn’t just walk up to a camp of wild Clanless and expect to fool them with only a decoy rock and a boy’s woolen sling. As big as this man was, the chances of Joshua hurling a small rock with enough force to knock him out was as likely as Commander Laden and the Allies accepting Gryphon with open arms.

  Gryphon waved to get Joshua’s attention while not showing the Kodiak his position. They would just have to try again tomorrow, when Gryphon had time to craft a better plan that didn’t rely solely on rocks and slings, and trust that Zander and the mess were miles away.

  When Joshua finally looked in his direction, Gryphon gave the signal for retreat. But instead of backing down off the pillar, Joshua shook his head and set a stone in the leather pouch of his sling.

  That boy! Gryphon would kill him if they survived this.

  Joshua let out a deep, silent breath, then whipped the sling over his head in one full rotation and released the stone. The entire motion happened in a blink. At the same time, Gryphon exploded toward the watchman, ready to kill the man if Joshua’s stone didn’t do its job. The rock whistled through the air and connected with the side of the Kodiak’s head. The large man toppled into Gryphon’s outstretched arms. He’d meant to break the man’s fall, but the Clanless was so large he took Gryphon to the ground along with him.

  Definitely a Kodiak.

  Joshua stood on the stone pillar above his prey in humble triumph. A man.

  With some effort, Gryphon rolled out from under the Kodiak. He pressed his fingers to the man’s neck and found a pulse.

  They didn’t have much time.

  More nervous than ever, Gryphon stood with his back against the nearest stone pillar and inched toward the opening. He listened for any movement in the camp but only heard the simmering crackle of the fire. He reached the edge of the pillar and held his breath as he turned the corner.

  Flickering light from the campfire reflected off the giant rocks, highlighting portions of the sleeping figures on the ground. Gryphon’s knees buckled when he spotted a smaller figure sleeping next to the fire, in the center of the group of Clanless. A blanket of shadow shrouded the figure’s face, but female hands rested in firelight.

  The air flew out of Gryphon’s lungs, his hopes that she rested unharmed plummeted. Her hands—the hands that worked a miracle in healing Joshua and helped so many others—were crusted in blood.

  Zo looked up, startled to see an enormous shadowed figure looming just outside the firelight. At first glance she assumed him to be Ikatou’s lookout, but this man carried himself differently than the other Kodiak. And none of them stared like this stranger. He stood as still as the pillars surrounding their little camp, but his gaze cut through the heat of the flames and his shroud of darkness.

  Zo sat up, still a little fire blind from staring at the flames for so long. The knot of ha
ir she’d tied on top of her head loosened and dark, tangled strands tumbled about her shoulders and down her back. She considered reaching over to wake Ikatou from his heavy sleep and warn him of the stranger. It would be easy. He slept close enough she could smell the ripeness of his feet.

  The shadowed man didn’t seem to hold any weapons, typical of the Kodiak who preferred to kill with their bare hands. He was certainly large enough to be a Bear.

  But he wasn’t. Somehow she knew it.

  Zo didn’t understand the strange pull of her body as she pushed aside her tattered blanket and rose to her feet.

  Who are you? She wanted to ask, but couldn’t manage the words.

  He lifted a hand to the light and beckoned her to him. She shook her head but inched closer to the fire just the same. Again, he waved her toward him, this time with more urgency then before. Ikatou stirred, the fire cracked, and Zo stood frozen, not daring to move any closer.

  The shadowed man dropped his hands by his sides and Zo had the distinct impression she’d let him down somehow. He shifted forward enough that a small amount of light touched his form. She blinked against the heat of the flames, searching the stranger’s darkened face, but the fire lit only his whiskered chin. The gleam of a short sword peeked through the folds of a dark, hooded cape. A Ram blade.

  Zo stepped back and inhaled to scream and wake the sleeping Kodiak, but it was too late. The man jumped over the flames of the fire.

  In one graceful motion, he covered her mouth with his large hand and wrapped his arm around her waist.

  There was something about the man’s touch. Something she recognized. But it can’t be. Zo’s legs melted but the phantom before her didn’t let her fall.

  Gryphon?

  It wasn’t possible.

  Yet, even his smell was familiar. It couldn’t be.

  Someone in the camp groaned. Gryphon’s ghost didn’t waste a second. He threw Zo over his shoulder as if she were a sack of grain and jumped back over the fire that blocked their exit from the rudimentary cave.

  As they ran, Zo beat upon the ghost’s back to get him to stop, but he didn’t listen. Behind them shouts echoed off stone. Ikatou’s voice rose above the rest. What if they thought she’d abandoned them?

  Blood rushed to her head. She couldn’t catch her breath to scream. Pain from the jostling of her hands and the pressure on her stomach mixed with a dizziness of being upside-down. This man ignoring her battle couldn’t be Gryphon. Was her mourning so great that she’d attached his face and smell to another man?

  He could have been a Ram scout. That made a lot more sense than any other explanation she could dream up. She kicked harder, grasping for branches of passing trees, unable to fill her lungs enough to scream.

  Eventually her fight dwindled to a few sporadic fists against his back. Her eyes drooped closed, the running motion carrying her in and out of consciousness to a place of dreams, of loss and pain and longing so real her heart broke all over again.

  Chapter 28

  Gryphon hugged Zo’s legs as he ran wild with fear through the night. Joshua sprinted ahead of him, darting around trees, scouring the area for some place to hide, constantly looking over his shoulder to make sure Gryphon and Zo were close behind.

  Thankfully, Zo stopped fighting Gryphon’s hold a few minutes into the run. He’d refused to put her down so close to the camp in case she was too injured to run, and—even more vehemently—refused to consider why she fought him to begin with.

  Zo was smaller than he remembered, lighter, but that didn’t lessen the ache sprouting in his shoulder from supporting her weight. He winced and adjusted his hold, but it didn’t help.

  Slowing to a walk, he leaned forward and let her body shift so he cradled her in his arms. He couldn’t decide if she was unconscious or simply sleeping. Had she lost too much blood from the cuts on her hands?

  Why didn’t she come when he beckoned? What did those savages do to her?

  Her eyes fluttered open, but swiftly drifted shut again. Blood was smeared across her cheek and her head lolled back to face the dim light of the crescent moon. How could beauty be so frightening? It reminded him just how unworthy he was to even hold her, let alone try to claim her heart. Rejection from her would wound him in a way that a sword or spear never could.

  Gryphon didn’t realize he’d stopped walking until Joshua approached.

  “I’ve found a place, Gryph,” said Joshua. He reached out and touched his fingertips to Zo’s where they hung limp in the air. The poor boy looked ready to fall over. “It’s not the best, but—”

  “Lead the way, kid. I’m sure it’ll be fine.” They needed rest and couldn’t afford exposure to the Kodiak and possibly Zander.

  Joshua led them to a tight cluster of trees, heavily furred, with boughs hanging close to the ground. Gryphon dropped to his knees still cradling Zo to his chest. Joshua cleared the ground of rocks and pulled a bedroll from his pack.

  “This reminds me of the tree I woke up under after Zo healed me,” said Joshua. His words slurred with need of rest.

  Gryphon’s throat tightened at the memory of being with Zo under that tree. The kiss they shared. Zo had called him her family. She’d clung to him with such intensity at the time, he’d had no doubt of her affection. Or was it merely gratitude?

  He shook his head and bent over to lay her unconscious form on the bedroll. He cleared the ground next to her and unrolled his own blanket. “Here you go, Joshua.”

  Joshua shook his head. “I’m not taking your spot.”

  Gryphon dropped to the open ground near the perimeter of the tree to keep watch. “It’s not my spot.”

  He’d trained himself long ago to soak in as much rest as possible without actually falling asleep. Tonight it wouldn’t be hard to stay awake. As exhausted as he was, he doubted he could sleep even if he tried.

  Rays of light kissed Zo’s eyelids, but she wasn’t ready to wake. A soft sensation caressed the skin around the wounds on the backs of her hands. Though her hands were still tender from the blood oath, she welcomed the touch, considering it just another form of light kissing her skin.

  She’d dreamt of Gryphon working beside her on hands and knees, thinning a patch of beets. He didn’t carry any weapons. His dark hair was tied back with a strip of soft leather. He looked over his shoulder and gave her a contented smile then went back to his task, the muscles in his forearms moving beneath his skin as he worked.

  Zo became aware of the hard ground beneath her, the sun filtering through the branches of the tree overhead. She wasn’t ready to wake up. Adjusting into a new position, she inhaled the scent of pine, and then slipped back into another dream to be with Gryphon. The farm was gone. Now she sat under the tree with Gryphon outside the walls of Ram’s Gate. “I never left you,” he said.

  “Zo?” A voice, soft and deep. “Are you in any pain?”

  Zo gave in to the morning and blinked against the light filtering through the needles of the fir tree above her and groaned. Painful pressure behind her eyes from exhaustion and the ever-present ache of her hands made waking unwelcome. She needed rest. She needed more time with Gryphon.

  A gentle touch caressed her hand—a welcome contradiction to the pain from the cuts of the blood oath. Her eyes sank back into sleep, until her memory of the night before forced its way to the front of her consciousness.

  The blood oath. The man who kidnapped her from the Kodiak! The Ram sword he carried!

  Zo’s eyes flew open. But what she saw made her think she was still dreaming. Lying on his side next to her, his head resting in his hand with a tentative smile playing about the corners of his mouth, was Gryphon. The sun hit his face in splotches, highlighting his eyes while shadowing his mouth.

  “This isn’t real.” Zo frowned. She reached out and threaded her fingers through his chin-length brown hair. He leaned into the touch and her hand found his cheek. His jaw clenched beneath her fingers. He hesitated then turne
d his face to kiss the tender skin of her palm.

  “Zo, stop,” she commanded herself out loud, squeezing her eyes shut and pulling away. A tear rolled down her face. “Deep breaths and it will pass.” She covered her face with her hands and curled her knees up to her chest, as if doing so would protect her heart. Wake up wake up wake up.

  “Zo?”

  Her head whipped up at the sound of his voice. That voice! The way he said her name. It couldn’t be. It simply wasn’t possible. Wasn’t this figure just the product of her fatigued body and mind?

  “G-Gryphon?”

  He nodded.

  “But … but you died,” she gasped, tears blurring her vision. She thrust her hands out to feel along the boiled leather vest he wore to protect his chest. “A spear. Gabe told me. He said Ram spears never miss.”

  Zo sat up and ignored Gryphon’s shock as she pushed him onto his stomach, face to the soil, and examined his back for a spear wound.

  “I’m fine, Zo. I got away.” She nudged him to roll back onto his back and fanned her fingers along his shoulders, his arms, his legs. Tears rolled down her cheeks, her breath coming in strangled spurts. “Ram” gasp “spears” gasp “never miss.”

  Gryphon took her by the shoulders and gently shook her from her delirium. “I escaped them, Zo. Now will you please breathe?” He wiped her tears and took up her hands and kissed them, one knuckle at a time, all the while fighting a little boy grin.

  “How is this even possible?” she sobbed and launched herself at Gryphon, throwing her arms around his neck and knocking him onto his back. His deep laughter made his chest rise and fall—Zo along with it.

  Gryphon was alive!

  He trapped her in his arms, his chin resting protectively above her head. “You’re safe now. Everything is going to be fine.” He played with the long strands of her hair, occasionally kissing the crown of her head. With her ear pressed to him, each strong thump of his beating heart brought new hope. A joy that thrummed energy throughout her own body. Gryphon rolled onto his side, taking her with him so she rested in the crook of his arm, staring up at him in wonder.