Clanless (Nameless #2)(32)
“They weren’t human,” someone hissed. “Demon animals that walked on two legs,” said another.
Zo hooked Joshua by the collar as other Nameless men dragged the captive away. “What were you thinking?” Zo spun him around. “You can’t just go and fight a wild man. You’re young, Joshua. You could have been killed!”
Joshua tugged free of Zo’s hold and took a step back. “I’m not a kid, Zo.”
Zo eyed the space between them with disgust. She wanted nothing more than to hug the boy, but even though he was a kid, Zo saw a glimpse of the man within.
“Gryphon trained me to react, and that is exactly what I did. It’s who I am. It’s who he wanted me to be.” Joshua’s voice shook just enough for Zo to know he was fighting emotions that had nothing to do with tonight.
Zo closed the distance between them, and when he tried to push her comfort away, she batted his hands and threw her arms around his neck. “I just … ” A sob ripped from her throat. “I just can’t lose you, too.”
Joshua stood still as a plank of wood, but eventually melted and put his arms around Zo, patting her back. “I’m sorry, Zo,” he said, but she could tell he wasn’t apologizing for fighting that man tonight.
Once Zo could speak without breaking her composure, she whispered, “You were amazing. He would have been so proud of you.”
This time, Joshua’s resolve to be strong broke and he was thirteen again. Zo looked down to find Tess hugging him from behind. Her little lips moved in the form of one of her blessings.
“This is the boy!” someone shouted.
Zo and Tess stepped away as Stone marched up and clasped one of Joshua’s hands. Zo hoped for Joshua’s sake that no one saw the boy’s tears in the darkness.
“Good man,” said Stone. He turned to Zo. “We lost three others, and would have lost a fourth, if it weren’t for your boy here.” He slapped Joshua on the back.
“Do you want to tell me what that was?” asked Stone.
Zo wanted to sink to her knees in exhaustion. She placed her arm around Tess and dragged the girl more firmly to her side. “That was a Clanless attack.”
Chapter 12
A few hundred yards from the edge, Gryphon and a small company of Raven warriors assembled to take orders from the commander whom Chief Naat had left in charge. The new leader was middle-aged and stood almost as tall as Gryphon, making him a giant among his people. His head was shaven and white paint ran in long lines down his face, as though smeared by his own fingertips.
He stared out at the twenty or so men who wouldn’t be joining their wives and children as they boarded ships on the other side of the island.
“Rati, supplies. Kyi and Peti, your men are on traps. Veta, your bow and a black arrow. Meet us at the pit. Two minutes,” the commander rasped. At his word, men shot like arrows out to fulfill their tasks. The clipped orders provided Gryphon almost no hint of their plan, only a strong sense of foreboding which made his heart pound in furious time with the distant rhythm of Ram axes.
To Gryphon the commander said, “You will come with me.” He thrust a melon-sized barrel into Gryphon arms, lifted another barrel onto his own shoulder, and took off at a run toward the heart of the village. Gryphon hadn’t asked questions. He’d just tucked the barrel under his arm and followed.
When he first saw the illustrious pit filled with enough barrels of grain to solve the Ram’s food shortage, he had to blink a few times to be sure it was real. He’d been on many excursions over the last two years searching for the Nest—for the grain. He’d begun to think it only existed in myth.
When the Raven leader descended a ladder, Gryphon followed. He used his knife to spear a hole into the lid of the barrel then threw the blade to Gryphon for him to do the same. “Diluted pine resin.” The Raven answered Gryphon’s question before he had a chance to ask. Spread it over the top of the barrels along the perimeter of the pit.”
Gryphon obeyed, walking around the edge of the pit and pouring a wavy trail of resin over the barrels. The Raven leader followed behind him sprinkling shiny black powder over the sticky barrels.
“The trees!” someone yelled from above the pit. “They’re about to fall!”
Gryphon ran the rest of the perimeter; emptying his bucket over the barrels with the Raven leader right on his heels. When he finished his task, Gryphon tossed his bucket onto the ground and flew up the ladder and out of the pit.
Though he hadn’t been told the purpose of the resin and powder, a sinking dread filled his stomach. He glanced over his shoulder one last time to take in the sight of all of those barrels. Grain meant flour and flour meant bread and full bellies. No small miracle in their hungry region.
The young bowman met them fifty yards from the pit carrying an arrow with the tip covered in a black, porous substance. “I have everything ready, sir.” He lifted an oil lantern with a nod.
“Good,” the painted leader said. “Hold your arrow until it will do the most damage.”
“Yes, sir.” The young man sprinted up a set of stairs that spiraled around a nearby tree.
“The rest of you, get into position,” the leader shouted.
Gryphon and the twenty or so Raven who’d been left to prepare for invasion sprinted to the edge of the island to meet the Ram. Climbing the backside of one of the island redwoods, he pulled himself onto a platform with the other men. Strangers, all of them.