Clanless (Nameless #2)(72)
Fear wasn’t Zander’s problem, but pride was another matter.
“Not once, in all of our training sessions, did you spar with me. Why is that? Even now, you need the whole unit to subdue me so you can obey orders like an obedient, shoe-kissing grunt.”
“Gryphon, please don’t,” Zo whimpered.
Everyone watched Zander as color rose up his neck. When he finally spoke, his voice was ice, every word crisp and cutting. “You’re no better than the Clanless who roam these mountains. You fight only for yourself. You belong to nothing and so you are nothing.” He signaled to his men by patting the air at his hip. A signal to stand down no matter what followed.
The hands holding Gryphon dropped away and the Ram fanned out in a ring around him and Zander.
“These men are my brothers.” Gryphon looked around the circle at the men he’d long admired. Only Ajax met his gaze. He’d expected as much, but hoped for more.
Zander gritted his teeth and tightened his grip on his sword. “You. Are. Not. Our. Brother.” The metal of Zander’s blade caught and reflected sunlight as he reared back to strike. Gryphon knew the attack was coming and dodged, just catching the tip of the sword on his boiled leather vest.
Scrambling backward, Gryphon fingered the tear in his armor with one hand while drawing his own sword with the other. “What about your orders?” he said, adjusting his stance to keep a safe angle and distance from Zander. “It’s not like you to think for yourself.”
Zander attacked again. Gryphon deflected three rapid strikes but missed the fourth, earning him a long cut on his left bicep. He wasn’t used to fighting without a shield to protect his weak side. If it was a test of throwing spears or fighting hand to hand, Zander wouldn’t stand a chance against him, but swords were another matter, and Zander—being his captain—knew it.
Zander pushed Gryphon back. Metal clanged. Each strike Gryphon blocked vibrated all the way up his arm. Zander lunged, driving him back further still. Gryphon’s heel connected with a large rock, and he fell onto his back. Before he could get up, Zander had the point of his sword pressed against Gryphon’s exposed chest.
“I taught you everything you know, traitor. You never had a chance.”
It was true. Not with swords. Not surrounded and outnumbered with Zo and Joshua’s lives to consider.
“Drop the sword.”
Gryphon didn’t have a choice. The unhelpful weapon clinked on rock as it hit the ground. One of Zander’s men collected it and stepped back to his place in the ring. “You deserve this,” said Zander as he pushed the tip of the sword into the skin over Gryphon’s heart. He shifted the grip so both hands shared the hilt for leverage.
“Barnabas wants him alive!” Ajax yelled.
“There was a struggle,” Zander said panting, his lips curving upward in wicked pleasure. Sweat ran down the side of his nose. “Accidents happen.”
This wasn’t happening. Not after all they’d endured to get here. Adrenaline like fire coursed through Gryphon. It filled his shoulders and arms, down to his fingertips.
He had to save them. He had to find a way. Zander said he was Clanless, but even if the Allies never accepted him, that wasn’t true. He might not fight for a chief, but he certainly fought for something.
Zander reared back. His sword cut through the air, parallel to the ground, toward Gryphon’s neck. A piercing cry rent the air.
Gryphon closed his eyes and in a translucent moment of time imagined little Tess cupping his cheeks, whispering, I don’t want you to die. Then Sani. My life is linked to yours. And lastly, Zo. Her eyes communicated everything words never could. A hope for something more. A chance to see if a Ram and a Wolf could have a life together. If they could prove it possible, Gryphon couldn’t help but hope that others would follow their example. Set aside differences and find peace.
Just before the blade could split his skin, he lay back and swept Zander’s legs out from under him. Gryphon sprang from his back to his feet in one motion and charged Zander, weaponless.
He wasn’t that good at swords anyway.
Gryphon jumped on Zander. He landed a punch to Zander’s kidneys and another to his face before Zander retaliated, hitting him so hard in the nose that lights exploded behind Gryphon’s eyes.
They both staggered to their feet. Zander charged. His sword hacked down toward Gryphon’s weak side. Unthinking, Gryphon raised his shield arm. The blade bit into his flesh, connecting with bone. Lodged there. He pulled away, crying out in agony, and Zander’s sword stayed fixed to the bone below Gryphon’s elbow. The pain was so blinding he couldn’t even hear Zo’s screams and sobs.
They stood facing each other, panting and stunned. Then panic exploded across Zander’s face as he realized his attack wasn’t enough.
They collided, two immovable forces connecting in the air. Gryphon’s powerful hands surged with adrenaline as they clamped down on his mess leader’s head. Years of worshipping this man conflicted with the need to end him. All his training, all his beatings, had prepared him for this bittersweet moment. His hands did what Zander had trained them to do. Zander’s neck bone cracked as Gryphon severed it from his spinal cord. The bone popped under Gryphon’s hands, the cracking sound both heard and felt.
Gryphon and Zander hit the ground at the same time.
Zander, however, did not get back up.