Clanless (Nameless #2)(24)

“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 small 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!”