Fearless (Nameless #3)(21)
Laden couldn’t have chosen a more secluded, beautiful place to build his army. There was plenty of wood for lumber and plenty of water, and the natural protection of the mountains formed a perfect place for the Allies to grow in power and influence. The Allies camped in the north end of the valley, leaving acres and acres of land open for the Raven to establish a home as well as grow crops to support their people.
Zo remembered the first time she’d entered the secluded camp. Barely twelve years old, she’d looked out over the valley with the small group of supporters Laden had gathered, wondering how they would survive with only a few bags of seed and a few months of provisions. She and Tess were recent orphans, and Laden, her parents’ closest friend, had taken them under his protection.
He’d been kind to them both. Tess was only three years old when Laden took them on. No matter how many stories Zo told Tess about their beautiful mother and warrior father, Tess struggled to remember ever having parents aside from Millie and Laden.
“I see them!” Tess cried out, pointing down the valley at the only trail that led through the southern canyon.
From their high vantage point, the column of Raven walking toward them looked like a giant dark snake winding its way into the valley.
“So many,” Joshua exclaimed in wonder.
Somewhere near the head of that group would be Gabe.
“Let’s hurry.” Tess, who still sat perched on Joshua’s boney shoulders tapped at the boy’s head as though he were a mule in need of directing.
Joshua laughed. “You better hang on!” He took off down the mountain gripping Tess’s ankles. Her screams of delight harmonized with his pretend battle cry. Zo followed behind, shaking her head at the unlikely pair. A Ram and a Wolf, both raised to be enemies. They, more than anyone else, were proof that hate wasn’t born in the blood. It was cultivated by societies who feared that which they did not understand … that which was different.
Zo took a fortifying breath and walked down the mountain after them, wincing with every step.
Gryphon stood beside Commander Laden at the front of a wall of Allies. He searched the distant faces of the Raven refugees as they traveled the final steps of their weary journey to a new home. Though they were still more than a hundred yards away, their defeated posture resonated with Gryphon.
These were people who knew great sorrow—the kind of grief that only comes from losing your home. Such loss went deeper than physical pain. It was as though a portion of your soul—the piece that defined you—was missing, and without it, you had no idea how to be whole again.
Gryphon lived that pain daily, and seeing these Raven so displaced made him remember his own grief. His own sorrow at not belonging.
His own displacement felt especially real today. He’d walked the training field with aching muscles, making quiet suggestions to men trying to throw spears at long targets. Most took his instruction well, but few dared look at him as he spoke. Whether they feared him or despised him, it didn’t really matter.
Twenty-one days, he reminded himself. Soon he would leave this horrible place.
A place that could never be his home.
From the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of Joshua with Tess seated on his shoulders on the fringe of the group. Zo was with them. She appeared to say something that Tess didn’t appreciate because the little girl folded her arms in anger while Zo walked along the front line of the group in his direction.
Gryphon’s gaze jumped between Zo and the hundreds of men who gawked at her. Torn between wanting to rip out their eyes and the desire not to miss a single moment watching the way she moved in her traditional Wolf dress, Gryphon opted for the latter. No sense in making more enemies when there was a good chance one of these unworthy swine would someday win Zo’s heart, build her a home with four walls, and protect her with their poorly mastered sword.
As the Raven came even closer, thoughts of Gabe came to mind. Even though Gryphon hated him on multiple levels, there wasn’t another man in Gryphon’s acquaintance who could protect Zo and Tess the way Gabe could.
“Gryphon.” Zo reached out her hand to him as she came to stand at his side, so close their shoulders touched. She released his hand in exchange for hugging his arm. She gripped his bicep with one hand and his forearm with the other while her cheek pressed against his shoulder.
Gryphon’s eyes pinched closed. His free hand covered hers. How could such a soft, trusting touch be painful? Would she want to hold him if she knew the truth of his promise to Ajax?
“You’re tense,” she said. Then she hesitated before adding, “Thinking of Gabe?” She turned to face him. “You remember your promise, don’t you? You said you wouldn’t kill him.”
A smile cracked Gryphon’s attempt at composure. “I remember.”
Given the nature of Gryphon’s fate, holding a grudge against Gabe—as awful as the lie of Zo’s death had been—seemed petty. Zo was alive and he might need Gabe to help keep it that way should something happen to Commander Laden.
Chief Naataain raised a clenched fist, and the lines of Raven warriors halted. Countless feathers hung around the chief’s neck, and heavy wrinkles lined his face, distinct even from twenty yards.
Commander Laden stepped out to meet the chief and as they spoke, Gryphon noticed a blond head a few rows back.
Zo stood on tiptoe, scanning the crowd of Raven with thin lines wrinkling her forehead. From her lower vantage point, she hadn’t seen Gabe yet.