Fearless (Nameless #3)(2)
And it frightened him.
Zo walked a few paces ahead of the group. As she moved, the lines of her body danced in graceful waves. “What’s wrong?” she asked, looking back when he didn’t follow.
Gryphon struggled to find words.
Retracing her steps, Zo walked back to meet him. A chill shot up Gryphon’s arm as Zo placed her hands around the bend of his elbow. She looked up at him expecting a response, but he couldn’t remember the question.
“Still sick from the slot canyon?” Her head tilted to the side with the question.
Gryphon regained his senses and gestured to the massive throng below. “I didn’t realize there were so many.”
Her fingers slid down his arm to grasp his hand. “I know you’re worried about your people, Gryph. We’ll figure something out.”
Worried about his people? Yes, but more worried about Zo. About Joshua and Tess and leaving them all to fulfill a deadly promise.
Worried about saying goodbye.
Before Gryphon had a chance to respond, two-dozen men bearing spears and drawn bows descended upon them from behind. They wore armor of boiled leather and carried rudimentary round shields, similar to the Ram, though inferior in make. Joshua pulled out his knife and Ikatou, their Kodiak companion, shouted an order that had all of his men pressing their backs to one another. Gryphon joined their ranks and yanked Zo into the middle of their protective circle.
“Let me through!” she ordered.
To Gryphon’s great annoyance, Ikatou made room for Zo to step outside the circle and address their attackers. She looked as calm as the sea, her piercing blue eyes surveying every man without fear.
It did not matter to Gryphon that these were Zo’s people. He didn’t want spears aimed in her direction.
“I bear the mark of the Allies.” She raised her hands to show they were empty and pulled the tie of her cape loose. The heavy wool fabric cascaded to the ground. Gryphon didn’t appreciate the stunned expressions of the soldiers, the way their eyes ran the length of her body.
Zo pulled her collar down over her shoulder just enough to expose the crescent moon tattooed on her back—the mark of the Allies.
The leader of the small group nodded in Gryphon’s direction. “Who are they?”
“These men are Kodiak refugees whose families have been taken as Nameless slaves by the Ram.” She hesitated for a moment then gestured to Gryphon and Joshua. “This is Striker Gryphon and his apprentice, Joshua, both sons of the Ram.”
Gryphon closed his eyes and cursed. Was she trying to get them killed?
Spears rattled against metal and wooden armor as murmurs passed over the rank of Allies. The leader said, “They are not welcome here, Wolf, as you well know.”
Gryphon noticed Zo’s hands lock into fists. Her words darkened to flat command. “These men have risked everything to save me and my sister. Escort us to Commander Laden and let him be their judge.” The leader stared at her for a long moment then turned to his men. “Take their weapons and do as she says. The commander will want to question them either way.”
Gryphon released a long breath and made eye contact with Joshua, nodding the “all clear.” Joshua handed over his knife. The soldiers approached Gryphon with more caution, flinching as he unsheathed his short sword with his unbandaged hand before he took it by the blade and offered them the hilt. He kept his dagger concealed at his back. If they wanted it, they’d have to come and find it.
“Let’s move,” the leader called.
Fools, Gryphon thought. He’d never let an enemy enter his home without searching him for weapons. And no matter how much he tried to look past their differences—for Zo’s sake—these men, this entire camp, was the enemy.
At the base of the wooded foothills, the soldiers led them in a careful straight line in-between rows of young maize. Each plant stood only six inches high, but the soil looked rich and provided a slight spring beneath his step. There was no doubt this would be a good, healthy crop. His hungry clan would literally kill for this ground.
Beyond the fields, the group wove around tents filled with men who stood gawking at Zo and her strange new companions as they passed. Their frank stares faltered when they saw Gryphon. He thought of his dagger, ready to carve out a few eyes if necessity demanded.
As far as he could tell, there were no women in the camp. Many men looked a lot like Gabe, with his square jaw and light eyes and hair. Some, like Zo, had darker features—the brownish black hair common inside Ram’s Gate. Overall, from what he could tell, the Wolves’ skin was fairer than the Ram, less olive and more peach in hue.
Wolves. In all his life, he’d only ever seen a handful of the Ram’s sworn enemy, but today he strode through their camp, surrounded. The towering buttes protecting the valley seemed to bend over him on all sides, minimizing the already narrow strip of land. Old hatred as sharp as the long swords Wolves loved tore through his consciousness. What was he doing here?
This was a mistake.
Near the center of the camp they came to a tent twice as wide as it was tall. A bright blue banner flew from a spire at the top. Two guards were stationed outside in full armor with spears in hand and swords belted at their waists.
“State your business,” the shorter guard ordered.
Zo leaned in to whisper into Gryphon’s ear. “You and Joshua keep to the back of the group.” She didn’t give Gryphon a chance to protest before working her way to the front. When the guards at the tent spotted her, their eyes widened in recognition.