Clanless (Nameless #2)(60)
Zo nodded and turned her focus back to the ground. Occasionally, she let her gaze wander back to Ikatou. Sweat beaded on his upper lip. His hand never once left the hilt of the broad sword sheathed at his belt.
“How long since you’ve seen your family?” asked Zo, as she bent down to clip a stem of slippery elm using a small pair of shears she carried in her kit.
“Just over a year,” said Ikatou. He tucked his thumbs into his belt.
Zo moved on from the patch of slippery elm in search of her real quarry. She only had an hour to find the flower. “I’m sorry for your loss. The raids affected many.” She forced a lump down her throat and kept moving. She wanted to ask him why he’d ever want to become a Ram. Zo assumed it was less about belonging to a clan and a great deal more about reuniting with his family. People didn’t behave rationally when it came to protecting those they loved—the last year of Zo’s life proved as much.
“I knew several Kodiak who, when the Ram took everything from them, pledged servitude to the Ram to save their fatherless children,” said Zo.
But Ikatou’s children had a father. Had he been banished? Is that why he ran with Boar and the others? These were all questions she didn’t dare ask. She tried to change the subject. “Did you know Stone, the leader of the Nameless rebellion, is a Kodiak man born inside Ram’s Gate? He’s been a slave his whole life.”
When Ikatou didn’t respond, she worried she’d offended the man. He probably didn’t appreciate Zo dredging up difficult memories of his past. “I’m sorry.” She crouched to examine the leaves of another plant.
“I wasn’t banished, if that’s what you’re thinking,” said Ikatou, his voice barely over a whisper as he searched the tree surrounding them. “My wife, my daughters, they were all taken from me in the raid. Stolen like sacks of grain.”
Zo didn’t move, didn’t breathe, for fear Ikatou would stop talking.
“We were out hunting, me and a small group of men. We didn’t know they were gone until we came back.” Emotion made Ikatou’s speech thick and trembling. “I didn’t have a chance to die for them. Didn’t have a chance to fight.” He coughed and looked away. “The cowards attacked us at our weakest possible moment.”
He cleared his throat. “I wasn’t there for my little girls. For my wife. Helping Boar is the only way I can get inside the Gate to save them.”
The hillside took on a steeper upward grade and Zo slipped, jamming her knee on a rock. She crawled to a sturdier game trail. While Ikatou followed, Zo made a show of clipping a useless weed from the ground and adding the unhelpful stems to her slow-growing pile.
The sun was close to setting and Ikatou grew restless. “We need to start heading back,” he said.
But Zo hadn’t found what she needed. “Only a little longer.”
Ikatou shook his head. “Your plants are not worth risking my chances of seeing my family again.”
“Please. Five more minutes.” Zo had been lucky to get away from Boar for even a little while. If she didn’t find that flower, any chance of escape—as small as it was—would be lost forever.
She whispered, “There is a better way to help your family, Ikatou. I know people who can help you and all of the Nameless still living inside Ram’s Gate.”
Ikatou shifted from one foot to the other.
“Please. I just need five minutes.” She poured every ounce of her desperation into the plea. If only her healing instincts weren’t broken. She might have persuaded him to let go of his fear of Boar with her touch.
Ikatou glanced up at the setting sun then back at her panicked face. His sigh rolled like a growl. “Five minutes. But we head back in the direction of camp.”
Zo could have kissed him.
She practically threw herself to the ground in search of the flower that might be her last chance of escaping Boar and his men. From the corner of her eye, she caught the distant rustling of leaves. Clanless. Following them. Making sure Boar’s ticket back into the Ram didn’t wander too far.
Some of Boar’s men were like their leader. Wild. Stripped of humanity. But Ikatou and several of the other Kodiak were different, ruled by desperation rather than selfishness. Zo had to wonder if Ikatou and the others would turn on Boar if given a better offer—a chance to fight the men who took their homes and families.
“Ikatou,” she whispered, still scanning the ground. “I can help you.” Zo hoped her voice was low enough for only the Kodiak to hear.
Ikatou didn’t answer, and she interpreted his silence as if it were an invitation. He would hear her out.
“I belong to a group of people, an allied force training and growing in number.” She paused for effect. “Their whole purpose is to overthrow the Ram. They will free the Nameless.” Zo didn’t know if it was wise to assume Commander Laden planned to do any such thing, but it seemed like an obvious consequence of winning the war against the Ram. And if it meant gaining Ikatou and a few of his friends as allies, it was worth the risk.
“I know where they are camped. I am like a daughter to their commander. I can help you find a place with them. Get your families back by fighting the people who tore you all apart, not by helping them.”
Then Zo spotted it. Thin stems held up clusters of the unique blue flowers of the monkshood. Though they appeared harmless, they were highly poisonous if ingested.