Clanless (Nameless #2)(33)
A brief thought—What am I doing here?—flitted through his mind. He didn’t know these men. They shared the common goal of wanting to escape the island alive, but that was all. The men of his Ram mess trusted one another with their lives. They were men he’d die to defend and who would willingly return the sacrifice.
He thought of the archer and his black-tipped arrow, and his stomach rolled, more conflicted than ever.
Gryphon lay flat on his stomach, watching the Ram take axes to the mammoth trees that stood at the edge of the cliff. The Raven surrounding him seethed and winced as the Ram hacked at their ancient heritage.
There was no sense in the Raven using their bows against the Ram shields that protected the men working the axes. The Raven conserved their arrows and waited.
Lying on the platform felt like waiting for death. “There has to be another way off the island,” he said. Wood-slatted armor rattled as the Raven at his side turned away from him. But Gryphon didn’t care. He’d risked everything to help these people and dying wasn’t part of the plan. Especially not when he had a favor to return to Zander.
Everyone startled when Sani dropped onto the platform from a branch above. The boy dusted his hands on his pants and crawled over to Gryphon and the others. “The chief filled all of our smaller fishing vessels with supplies to be towed behind the big boats,” he said. “Our only option is to cross the logs after the Ram come over. If we’re lucky, the Ram will follow us, giving our people the time they need to distance themselves from shore.”
“You’re supposed to be on a boat,” Gryphon growled at Sani. The last thing he needed was another kid around to remind him of Joshua.
“I told you before; I’m your ‘Atiin. I’m honor-bound to serve you until I have paid back my debt.”
“You’re a fool. None of your people would condemn you for not following through with this whole ‘Atiin thing. One less Ram in the world would be a blessing in their eyes.”
“But they wouldn’t have to live with the shame. I would.” He studied Gryphon more closely. “Where is your armor?” He looked down the row of warriors and frowned. “Did no one bother to find you some?”
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.