Fearless (Nameless #3)(37)
“What is that?” asked Talon.
“We honor the fearless.”
Talon slowly rose to his feet, and by so doing caused everyone to follow. Zo braced herself, standing between the two men with hands partially outstretched.
“Are you calling me a coward?” Talon asked.
Ikatou, for once, seemed completely calm. He shook his head. “I know you’re not a coward, Bird. That’s exactly my point. But if you stay hidden in this cabin with the hope that the chieftain of the mighty Kodiak will waltz through his great halls to come to you, he will think you fearful. This is not a social call, Talon. You are asking him to stand with the Allies against our common enemy. This is a call to war. And it shouldn’t be offered from a place of hiding.”
Zo blinked, surprised by the conviction of Ikatou’s words. She found herself nodding. This journey meant nothing if Murtog didn’t agree to offer his support to the cause. They couldn’t afford to have him think them weak.
Talon finally bowed his head. “For the sake of the cause, I’ll join you. But we leave well before dawn, when more of your people are still asleep.” He glanced over at Raca and Zo. “And the women stay here.”
“No.” Both Zo and Raca spoke at the same time and with the same fierce edge, leaving the four men in the company, Talon included, blinking back their surprise. “You listen to me, brother. We started this together. We will finish it together. Besides,” she crossed her arms, “I have the better bow. If something does go wrong in there, you’ll need me.”
At that, Ikatou actually smiled. “For such a small person, you certainly speak with great conviction, little one.”
“Never make the mistake of calling my sister small, Bear. Though her head might not come to the level of your chest, she is the largest person in this room,” said Talon.
The group settled in for a few hours’ sleep. Zo slept closest to the fire, with Raca lying next to her and Talon dividing the women from the Kodiak. He’d been kind to think of protecting Zo as well as his sister. Their relationship made her wish she’d had an older brother.
Beside her, Raca shifted onto her side, facing Zo. Her eyes fluttered open and met Zo’s unintentional stare.
“Not tired?” the Raven girl asked.
Zo yawned her reply, “Too much on my mind.”
Raca glanced over her shoulder at the snoring men, exhausted from two days of travel. She turned back to Zo and rested her head in her hand. “Want to talk about it?”
Zo shrugged. Not really.
“Is it about Gryphon?”
Zo’s head snapped up, inspecting the Raven for any hint of emotion. She didn’t like that Gryphon always seemed to be so close to Raca’s thoughts. “I was thinking more about what a good brother Talon is to you.”
The corners of Raca’s mouth sank. She sighed and said, “Too good. His wife hates me right now.”
“Why is that?”
Raca shuffled lower into her bedroll and stared up at the wooden rafters. “Because until I marry, I am my brother’s responsibility. He and I have been traveling for weeks, visiting Laden and the Wolves, to find me a suitable spouse.” She rolled her eyes. “I confess I haven’t tried very hard. To be honest, I’m quite good at finding fault with men I’m supposed to consider marrying.”
Zo scrunched her nose. At almost eighteen, Zo was approaching the age to consider such things, and Raca couldn’t be that much older than her. “Why is that?”
Raca sighed. “It’s foolish of me, I know, but I’d love not to have the pressure of marrying someone to benefit my clan. I’d love to … ” Her voice trailed off, arm slung over her eyes, as if blocking out not just the light of the fire but the pressures of the world.
She rested like that for so long Zo thought she might have fallen asleep, but then Raca finished. “I’d love to marry someone for love, without outside motives.” She rolled back over to Zo, her eyes now glistening. A tear leaked down her cheek. “When men see me they see only a position of influence. A game of political strategy. I want to be more than that. I’m just so tired of being invisible.”
Chapter Fourteen
Laden was a traitor!
It was all Gryphon could think about as he trained his men the following day. Laden had actually lived and breathed the Ram way of life, then walked away to join, and eventually lead, the enemy.
Now that he knew the truth, Gryphon kicked himself for not seeing it sooner. Laden’s coloring, his build—they were all common Ram traits. Even his face had the look of the Ram, though his heavy scarring had disguised the long nose and other telling features.
Of all people, Gryphon should have recognized him for what he was. He’d been a blind fool, but then so had the men of the camp. When a truth isn’t expected, it is harder to see. He was almost positive the men of camp didn’t know about Laden’s Ram heritage.
If his suspicions were true—and he was almost positive they were—no one in camp knew Laden’s secret. No one except Gryphon.
Why trust me?
At the end of a long day of training, the busy throng of soldiers bustled around the practice field. The sun had set, but Gryphon was a statue—a stubborn rock holding ground in a fast-moving river of people.