Fearless (Nameless #3)(20)



She swatted a tear from her cheek, her bitter tone contradicting her innocence. “One day I will be the only one left, because everyone will choose someone—or something—instead of me.”

She sprang from his arms and ran from the tent.





Chapter Eight





Zo and Raca sat with a group of Nameless women assigned to help in the Healer’s Tent.

Not Nameless, but Freemen.

She mentally chided herself for forgetting the distinction. They all gathered around as she showed them how to treat a number of basic wounds. Laden had asked her and Millie to teach them so they might be useful if the Allies ever confronted the Ram in battle.

Since women were not permitted to fight, those not training to assist healers were assigned to work in the new Freeman district of the massive camp, tending fires and grinding bushels of raw grains into flour for bread. Another group dug the remainder of last year’s crop of potatoes, carrots, turnips, and onions from the ground for stews. There was wool to be woven and clothes to sew, men to train and rules to establish for the newest members of the Allied Camp.

Because many of the Freemen had lived most of their lives as Ram slaves, Stone, their leader, didn’t take to the idea of them merging into the other clans. Zo learned that upon the Freemen’s arrival, Stone was appointed chief of the Freemen and helped his people find their own identity apart from the Allies.

“Have you seen him today?” Raca asked Zo once the women were all busy cutting bandages from sun-bleached wool.

Zo looked up from her work and frowned. “Who?”

“Gryphon.” Raca chewed on her bottom lip. “I hear he was badly beaten in the training field yesterday.”

Zo studied Raca from the corner of her eye. She knew the Raven chief’s daughter had formed a friendship with Gryphon while they were travel companions on the journey to the Allies, but the concern in her voice made her suspicious. “I worked on him yesterday. I understand, beyond some sore muscles, he’s doing fine.”

Zo, on the other hand, ached all over. Gryphon’s healing had fatigued her more than usual, and when she woke in the morning, pain lanced throughout her body, especially her stomach area. She’d changed her clothes with the speed of an old woman and, before pulling a clean shift over her head, noticed strange, deep bruising around her ribs.

Gryphon hadn’t come to see her yet today. Laden probably had him busy with assignments. She doubted he even knew that she would be leaving for the Caves in the morning.

“I worry about him,” Raca continued. “My brother tells me Laden demoted two of his lieutenants, and that he publicly punished the Wolves who joined the attack against him. If the Wolves disliked Gryphon before, they hate him now.”

The horn signaling midmeal echoed in the distance. Most of the Allies ate with their own clans, but Zo, Joshua, Tess, and the few emissaries to Commander Laden shared the Meeting Tent at mealtime.

“Laden doesn’t tolerate any form of dissention in his camp,” said Zo. “He’s always been strict of character, even when I was a little girl.”

Raca’s eyes grew wide. “You’ve known him for a long time then?”

“Almost as long as I can remember. He and my parents were close.”

Zo stood on tiptoe, hoping to spot Gryphon in the crowd of men.

“Some disagree with Laden’s punishments,” Raca whispered at Zo’s side. “Because the attack was made against a Ram, they don’t feel like the Wolves should have been punished so harshly.”

“Zo!” Joshua’s pitch-changing voice reached her through the crowded buzz of chatter from the men whom, she recognized now, were not headed toward their camps for midmeal, but instead to the southern portion of camp.

Zo saw the boy’s red hair pass through the crowd before materializing in front of her. Out of habit and instinct, Zo pulled the boy into a hurried embrace. Spending the past months constantly worried about the people she loved forced such behavior.

“The Raven Clan. They’re here!” Joshua returned Zo’s quick embrace.

Raca squealed. “Finally!” She raced off in the direction of the rest of the camp while Joshua took Tess by the waist and hoisted her onto his shoulders. She giggled in delight as he and Zo raced after Raca to witness the arrival of the Raven Clan.

Joshua, being the impatient tick he was, led Zo and Tess in a wide arc around the crowd that had gathered, forcing them to climb into the foothills on the side of the narrow valley. It seemed almost every man, woman, and child of the Allies wanted to witness the approach of the Raven.

Zo’s emotions warred between elation and nerves. Gabe, her childhood friend, would be leading the Raven to the Allies. The last time she’d seen him he’d kissed her, not disguising his hope that they could be together when they reunited. As a couple. But the kiss had accompanied a lie as black and horrible as Zo could possibly imagine.

Gabe had told Zo that Gryphon was dead—that he’d been killed by a Ram spear when he tried to escape his captors. She wanted to believe that the falsehood had been an accident—that maybe he’d been mistaken. But he’d lied to Gryphon, as well.

No matter how much Gabe professed to care about her, how could he lie when he knew it would cause her so much pain? What kind of a person did something so terrible?

Zo tripped over a loose rock and landed hard on her hands to break the fall. The impact jarred her already sore muscles. Brushing bits of rock and burs from her palms, she climbed to her feet and held her aching ribcage as she looked out over the little valley. From their spot on the hillside, it was hard not to admire the giant mountains framing the camp on all sides and the two small streams that funneled into the pond on the southeast end.

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