Fearless (Nameless #3)(46)
She eventually picked up her comb and left him, without another word, sitting on the floor of Laden’s tent.
The next two mornings, before Gryphon took his breakfast, Tess arrived at his tent with comb in hand. No words exchanged. No questions about how she was doing. Tess simply looked up at him and offered the comb. On the second day, Joshua even let her practice braiding his shaggy red locks, lying down with his head in her small lap as she worked.
Gryphon did his best not to let the child see how pleased he was when he accepted the comb on the third day.
I’m going to miss this …
“One more!” Gryphon shouted to his gasping men when they reached the bottom of the foothills. His order wasn’t received with groans as it had been during yesterday’s sprints. He’d rewarded that reaction with three more trips up and down the mountain. This time, the men simply put their heads down and sprinted back up the mountain.
Gryphon paused a moment at the bottom—keeping an eye out for the youngest boys in his ranks—before digging his feet into the rich valley soil and sprinting after them. He’d overtaken the leader before they reached the top. “The Ram train this hard every day, men,” he called down to them. He wanted to taunt them. He wanted them to be angry with him, to use that anger to push themselves harder.
They all reached the top a little faster than they had the day before. He nodded his approval and said, “Use the jog down to catch your breath. Dismissed.”
Gryphon walked behind his men, taking in the distant sight of new tents being erected on the eastern edge for the Kodiaks. Earlier that morning, the camp awoke to find over fifty newly made spears snapped in two and a pair of Allied soldiers impaled near the armory. Laden was in a lethal mood, and the general animosity toward Gryphon had spiked yet again. At least his forty seemed to trust him.
Down below, a drum beat out a rhythm. Gryphon wouldn’t have thought anything special of the beat were it not accompanied by other sounds—noises he’d never heard before.
He picked up his pace and trotted down the mountain, following the curious melody through the training fields to a Wolf campfire. Five men sat around the fire clutching strange objects that produced the most amazing sounds under their nimble fingers.
The song was both high and low pitched. One man put his lips over an elaborate stick while using his fingers to cover the holes to manipulate the pitch. Another held a wooden box under his chin and dragged a stick across a row of strings.
Gryphon couldn’t help but tap his toe to the beat of the music. His jaw hung open as the syncopated sounds consumed him. Inside Ram’s Gate, no one was allowed to sing. Gryphon had spent his childhood fighting the melodies that came to him as he carved. He’d always been embarrassed by the time he’d spent humming those tunes and then trying to match words to the melodies. Most of his songs were the product of his lonely childhood. Music was a friend to an outcast boy who never quite belonged, and something to be ashamed of. But this … the way the different pitches mingled and blended to create something completely new … it was nothing short of exhilarating!
“Are Wolf musicians that much better than Ram?”
Gryphon looked over to find Gabe leaning back, resting on a barrel. It wasn’t common for Gryphon to let someone sneak up on him. But the music had cast a spell upon his mind, requiring every particle of his attention to fully appreciate.
Instead of the ten hateful remarks he’d rehearsed for Gabe after learning about his deception, Gryphon simply shrugged and said, “We only have drums inside the Gate.”
“Ah, yes. The Ram’s determined goal of never having any form of amusement outside of the prizefight ring.” He rolled his eyes. “How could I forget?”
The two men watched the musicians, neither feeling the need to bridge the huge chasm Gabe’s lie had created between them. Gryphon was surprised by how little resentment he held for the Wolf. Mostly because he couldn’t imagine the pain Gabe must endure knowing the girl he’d loved most of his life had chosen someone else. If their situations were reversed, Gryphon would have been desperate to win her.
Gryphon didn’t feel too badly for him. Unless a miracle happened, Gryphon would be out of the picture in only a few short weeks.
Less than three weeks, he mentally corrected himself. Only eighteen days …
“She’ll want to dance.”
Gryphon shot another glance in Gabe’s direction.
“Zo.” Gabe gestured toward the musicians. “She’ll want to dance at the Ostara.”
Shaking his head, Gryphon said, “I don’t know how.” He barely knew what music was, let alone how to dance to it.
“There are four staple dances that are favorites among the Wolves. I think it would mean a lot to her if you surprised her by learning them before the Ostara.”
“That’s only a few days away.”
Gabe swatted away Gryphon’s concern. “I’ll have the boys come to the meeting tent tomorrow night. Tess and Millie can help us.”
“W—why?”
Gabe scoffed. “I’m certainly not going to dance with you.”
Shaking his head, Gryphon finally found his tongue. “No, why would you do that for me?”
Gabe’s jaw flexed as his attention turned back to the fire. “It’s not for you, Ram.” Seconds passed. Finally, Gabe swatted his shoulder and said, “Tomorrow night,” before walking away from the light of the fire.