Clanless Page 8

  “Why?” asked Gryphon as he fingered the cold stones.

  “Protection. As your ‘Attin, it is the most help I can offer you in the Hai.”

  They sat in silence together. Gryphon assumed Gabe and Sani didn’t know what to say to a man they assumed was about to walk to his death. Still running his fingers over the bracelet, Gryphon asked Sani, “What language was that Elder speaking during my judgment? I’ve heard tales of clans outside of our region speaking in strange tongues, but always thought the local clans spoke only the language of the Ram.”

  Both Sani and Gabe snickered at that. “What?” Gryphon asked. “Why is that funny?”

  Gabe clapped Gryphon on the shoulder. “Do you honestly believe we all speak the language of the Ram?”

  Gryphon did. It’s what he’d been taught since childhood.

  Sani said, “My people were the first to inhabit this region. We were born out of the trees and soil, the water and wind. We cared for the earth and the earth cared for us. We called ourselves the Raven because legend says the First Chief spoke to the wise Raven and the Raven called him brother.”

  Gryphon glanced over to Gabe, wondering if he actually believed the crazy story. He’d never heard of any such history and always been told the Raven, like the other clans, had moved into the Ram region, pilfering its resources and robbing the Ram of the clan’s livelihood—even taking and mutilating the Ram language.

  “What you heard in the judgment was the language of our first fathers,” said Sani. “The language of land and sky … of the Raven. It is the language of our holy text and the root of the language we speak today.”

  “Are you claiming the Raven were the first to dwell in this region?”

  Gabe winkled his brow. “How can you not know that? Do the Ram not have stories of the migration? Where do you think the clans got their animal names?”

  Gryphon had never considered the fact that all the clans carried the name of an animal. He’d always assumed the Ram had taken on the name as a symbol of power. He’d felt pride in the name.

  “As wandering clans pushed into the region, my people welcomed them so long as they were peaceful,” said Sani. “The clan that settled in the south was the most social, and began the tradition of trading and working together to protect the region. Because of them, the three clans came together once a year.”

  “The meeting was called an Ostara. All of the houses of the Wolves still hold the meetings and Kodiak and Raven still attend when they can,” said Gabe.

  Sani nodded. “My people named the clan after the beasts who hunted and lived in packs. Wolves. Another clan settled in the Eastern part of the region. They were large in stature and preferred stone to tree and kept to themselves like the mighty Kodiak who kept to the Kodiak Hills.”

  “And the Ram? You mentioned three clans, but there are four. Do you believe my people were the last to arrive to the region?” asked Gryphon.

  Sani shook his head.

  “Actually,” said Gabe. “Your people came at the same time as mine. The stories say we used to be one clan. Two brothers whose families had families, and so on.”

  “Impossible.”

  “It’s true,” said Sani.

  “We were large and spread out like the Wolf packs of today. Your forefather and mine, brothers, had a disagreement that blossomed into a feud that eventually divided our one clan into two.”

  Sani said, “You pushed your way north, deeper into Raven territory, but by then your numbers were large and my people did not have the means to stop you without war. You were named after the mighty Ram for that reason. We were a peaceful people, and eventually conceded to give you the land where Ram’s Gate sits today. For many years the region lived in peace. But hatred festered among your people. The Ram were hungry for war, desperate for revenge. They built and trained a might army and secreted slaves from the other clans. The massive wall of Ram’s Gate wasn’t built until after the first raids.”

  Gabe shook his head. “By then the Ram were too strong to be stopped,” finished Gabe.

  Gryphon thought back to his time in Chief Barnabas’s house. The scrolls which carried the histories of old. The Historian who had scoffed at his inability to read. She’d called him ignorant, even though most of the Ram couldn’t read—it was considered a fluffy gift with no benefit. A waste of time that could be spent training.

  Had Barnabas and the chiefs before him intentionally kept the people ignorant? The thought made him dizzy … and angry.

  The tent flap opened and a stout Raven with gray ash smeared along his face, similar to Sani’s, said, “It is time.”

  But before Sani and the elders could lead Gryphon away, Gabe grasped his shoulder. “You’re a good man. Zo would be proud.”

  Gryphon’s throat tightened.

  “There’s something I should say.” Gabe shook his head, as if struggling with some unseen demon. “I never told you … Thank you for sparing my life in the Gate. Thank you for helping Zo and Tess.” Sorrow and something else crossed his face. Guilt?

  “This was my decision, Wolf. I promised Zo I’d come. I have no regrets.”

  The lines around Gabe’s mouth deepened. “I didn’t deserve your mercy,” he whispered.

  Sani pulled back the tent flap before Gryphon could respond. “We must hurry. The ritual must begin right when the last light of day departs from the sky.”

  Gryphon ducked out of the tent, wishing he’d had a chance to ask Gabe what he meant. With head high and fists clenched, he prepared himself as he might if he were about to engage an enemy. Through his training with the Ram, he’d learned how to retreat within himself to the point where he almost couldn’t feel pain. Whatever the Raven had for him, he’d survive. It was the Ram way.

  The procession of elders and Gryphon, with Sani bringing up the rear, walked along a dirt path lined with Raven burning torches to ward off the encroaching night. Old, young, male, female—all gathered to watch Gryphon take the walk that would determine their fate.

  They stopped at the base of a large tree. The elders stepped aside to reveal a ladder that spiraled from the ground up into the canopy. This ladder was different from the one Gryphon encountered on the journey here. There was a handrail, and instead of knobs for steps, broad wooden planks made for a comfortable ascent. In the low light, Gryphon craned his head to see a small, enclosed house near the top of the tree.

  “I’m to take you up,” said Sani, accepting a torch from a neighboring guard. Sani bowed to his chieftain father, taking to the stairs in front of Gryphon.

  “How old are you, Sani?” Gryphon asked as they climbed. The boy looked ten but acted twenty.

  “I am thirteen,” said Sani.

  The same age as Joshua, but the boys couldn’t be more different. Joshua was tall and awkward, still growing into his newly acquired height. Sani was short and lean. Joshua was loud and often clumsy, while Sani was quiet and precise in his actions—graceful, even.

  Tree sap from the railing stuck to Gryphon’s hand. The smell was powerful and somehow relaxing. They climbed for several minutes until the stairs stopped at the base of the tree hut. Sani tugged on a rope, bringing down another staircase that led into the aerial room.

  Gryphon pulled himself into the circular space, and searched the area for a potential threat. What he found were five totems carved into the shapes of various birds, all staring into the center of the room. All terrifying. A chill rolled up his arms and legs, coalescing up his spine in one giant wave.

  Sani used the torch to light five candles, one at the base of each totem. When he finished, he handed Gryphon a knife and, with some difficultly, draped a leather necklace over his head adorned with one white feather.

  “What is this?” Gryphon ran his fingers over the feather.

  “The white raven is a very rare and sacred animal among my people. Its feathers bring protection and good fortune.” Sani lowered himself down the ladder in the floor of the smal
l room, and stopped before closing the latch. “For the sake of my people, I hope to see you in the morning.”

  “What am I supposed to do?” Gryphon called after him. “There’s nothing here!”

  The door in the floor closed and locked.

  Gryphon glanced around the room. The flickering light cast wicked shadows across the birds, whose mouths opened as if shrieking in anger.

  So this was it? Gryphon was to sit in this treetop room without windows or doors until morning? He couldn’t help the relieved laughter that escaped him. He’d been prepared to fight a lion or worse. This was nothing.

  Footsteps sounded on the roof of the enclosed room. Other movement surrounded the hut. Gryphon backed away from the walls to stand in the center of the room with knife raised. Something bitter tickled his nose. Smoke rolled from the mouths of the five birds in a continuous, loud exhalation. Gryphon dropped to the floor to avoid the smoke, but within minutes, the entire room was cast in a clouded haze.

  Gryphon held his breath as the smoke reached him. His lungs burned in pain and he had no choice but to inhale the smoky air.

  Only moments later, his screams shook the entire tree.

  Joshua carried Tess on his shoulders so the group could travel at a faster pace. A hard wind picked up leaves and dirt as it blew north, against them. Having a Ram scout come so close to taking her brought the danger of their situation back to the forefront of Zo’s thoughts. She guessed the others shared her fears.

  Ram scouts usually traveled in pairs, as insurance in case one was killed. That meant the Ram who’d tried to take Zo had a companion. And he was close. Joshua and Eva had dragged the dead Ram’s body into a thick patch of grass and covered it with branches. There wasn’t time for a burial, not that a Ram would extend the same courtesy to another clan.

  They’d been lucky the Ram hadn’t expected them to fight back. But if the second scout found the body of his friend, he’d want blood.

  Joshua refused to meet Zo’s eye. He wouldn’t even accept the water skin she handed to him when they stopped to hydrate.

  “We’ve got to be close,” said Eva after taking a greedy draw of water. Beads of sweat dotted both her and Joshua’s foreheads, and Tess looked ready to fall asleep standing. The terrain grew rockier the higher they climbed. Skidding on loose gravel and climbing over boulders added to their exhaustion.

  “Can’t we rest?” said Tess. She slipped her hand into Joshua’s and leaned against his side.

  “Why are you complaining?” Joshua flicked her nose. “I’m the one doing the heavy lifting.” He tried to smile at Tess, but his lips barely curved at the sides. His hero, his mentor, was dead, and Zo had lied to him. Joshua wore his pain like one might a ragged shirt. It hung on every dent and crease in his freckled face for the entire world to see, no matter how ashamed he might be to appear affected.

  “I know, but I don’t want to ride on your shoulders anymore,” Tess whined, placing another hand on his arm.

  Zo knew her sister well enough to sense the healing blessing she was covertly giving Joshua. Her “I’m tired” plea, was just an excuse to touch him with her healing hands. With hair blowing into her face, Tess flashed Zo a sad grin.

  Tess had trained as a healer with Zo for only a year before they entered the Gate. Zo looked forward to continuing her sister’s education. A healer had to love the person they healed, and watching little Tess will her compassion into Joshua during his time of denial and anger made Zo more proud than she had any right to be.

  Tess was special. She’d make a much better healer than Zo.

  Without waiting for her approval, Joshua snatched Tess and threw her back onto his shoulders. She let out a strangled cry and Joshua battled a smile that under normal circumstances would have come easily. The girl may have been a liability in every tactical way, but at that moment, Zo considered her the most valuable asset of their little company. If nothing else, while she sat on Joshua’s shoulders, Zo knew he wouldn’t do anything drastic, like sneak off to look for Gryphon on his own.

  Zo tightened her grip on her pack and medical satchel and followed after them. The trail took on a steeper grade approaching the summit of the small mountain. Patches of snow dotted the ground, even though spring had settled in the valley. The cold wind burned Zo’s cheeks as they fought against it and the rise of the mountain.

  Eva matched Zo’s stride, falling in step with her behind Joshua. “He’s going to be all right.” She looked straight ahead as she spoke. “So are you.”

  Zo shook her head thinking about Joshua’s future. The image of her, Tess, and Joshua living with Gabe—making a life together—didn’t settle properly in her mind. Would they set up a farm near the Valley of Wolves? Maybe keep sheep and a few goats? She imagined Gabe’s lips on hers, adoration filling his touches with warmth as little children laughed at their sides. Gabe would be a good father. It should have been a happy thought. But every touch would seem like a betrayal to Gryphon in Joshua’s eyes. And in a way, hers too.

  Zo wiped her tears and forced Gryphon from her mind.

  As they crested the summit of the mountain, a glorious sight made them all halt on the trail. Joshua helped Tess down from his shoulders, his chest pumping from the effort of carrying both of them up the steep climb. “I don’t believe it,” he gasped between breaths, looking to Zo for the first time since she’d told him the truth about Gryphon.

  A large group of people—at least a few hundred men, women, and children—had set up a makeshift camp. Families huddled in circles against the wind, while others combed the area for firewood and items to help provide a temporary shelter. A group of small children no older than Tess chased each other in circles before collapsing in a fit of giggles from the effort.

  Tess must have recognized several of the children, because she ran out to greet them with giant hugs.

  “I can’t believe we actually did it,” Zo said, mainly to herself. She turned to share her joy with Eva and found the girl frozen in place with her hands pressed firmly against her stomach, the wind pulling her short hair a hundred different directions. “I don’t see him.” Her voice was small, not matching her usual roar.

  The odds of Stone escaping Ram’s Gate were poor at best. He was the leader of the rebellion. He would have stayed to fight, providing time for as many Nameless to flee as possible.

  Zo rested a hand on Eva’s shoulder, but the Ram girl shrugged it off. “Don’t pity me,” she hissed. “I don’t need it.”

  Color had left Eva’s face and she swayed on her feet. This girl gave up her whole life for Stone, carried his child, and left her family for this crazy man. Zo understood Eva’s loss and had to chew on the inside of her cheek to keep her composure.

  Zo took hold of her wrist, and this time Eva didn’t resist. Zo whispered a blessing of hope and peace then dropped her hand to give Eva the room she needed to grieve.

  The blessing did nothing. Zo was still too empty to offer a proper healing. But at least she’d tried.

  Then someone shouted on the opposite side of the camp. “Guess what we found!”

  Zo and Eva startled at the burly voice. The owner was tall, with a dark, shaved head. He wore a leather vest, leaving his muscled arms exposed to the cold. He held an unconscious man over his shoulder. Judging by the limp man’s fur-lined boots and boiled leather armor, Zo had to assume it was the second Ram scout.

  “Stone,” Eva staggered in his direction, but fell after only two steps. She pushed herself back up to her feet—this time with more control over her limbs—and sprinted toward Stone.

  The Nameless leader didn’t see her among the crowd of people who came to greet him. He dropped the Ram onto the ground with an unceremonious bump. Then he rolled out his shoulders while laughing at something another man said. Eva was halfway to him when—as if there were some invisible line that existed between them—he turned and spotted her across the clearing.

  “Move!” Stone ordered. He ne
arly trampled a man, dividing the crowd with his big arms. He sprinted toward Eva, as though running from his own death.

  Zo held her breath, gripping Joshua’s sleeve for support as the lovers reached for each other. When Stone pulled Eva into his arms, he sank to his knees and held her close. Stone openly wept while kissing every inch of her face, cupping her cheeks with his calloused hands. In between kisses, he whispered words only Eva could hear. His hand moved to her stomach in such a tender way that Zo had to close her eyes to block the pain that accompanied the joy of seeing at least someone’s world put to rights.

  She ached with jealousy, and the imagined life of raising sheep and growing vegetables with Gabe wasn’t enough. Because no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t will herself to see Gabe the way Stone saw Eva.

  She covered her mouth to quell the sob that erupted from somewhere deep within and ran from the clearing so as not to mar Eva and Stone’s reunion. She dropped to the ground, surrounded by the cover of two large trees, ashamed she hadn’t the courage to face Eva and Stone. She really was happy for them; her pain just seemed so much easier to endure when she’d had Eva to share it.

  The idea that other people would move on after Gryphon’s passing—that they would find love, make children, become a family—was too difficult to imagine when it wasn’t possible for her.

  I’m so selfish.

  “Zo?” Joshua peeked around a tree. His fists were tight and swayed at his sides in an uncomfortable manner. His gaze shifted between Zo and the ground, as if seeing her cry was like Zo seeing Eva and Stone in the clearing. “I’m sorry for what I said.” He cleared his throat to keep his voice from jumping between bass and tenor. “I know you were trying to do the right thing by coming here.” And then all fidgeting left him, and he dropped to his knees next to her. “I know you miss him, too.”

  Zo wiped at her running nose and watery eyes. “I’m a mess, Ginger.” She ruffled his hair and yanked him into a hug that made them both fall.

  When they sat up Joshua pulled a soggy leaf out of Zo’s hair and she returned the favor. “Do you love him?” He tilted his head to one side like he used to do when Gryphon gave him instruction. His listening face.