Fearless (Nameless #3)(64)
The bottle dropped and rolled into the open neck of the dead guard, and Zo’s fingers brushed his flesh as she snatched it up and stumbled away, emptying the contents of her stomach in the long grass.
The stench burned her throat and nostrils, and she crawled toward camp and away from the bodies. When she finally trusted her legs to carry her, she staggered to the stream and plunged her hands into the water, splashing it into her face. Cleansing the death from her body.
Still shaken, Zo sat back on the bank and concentrated on dragging air through her lungs to calm her racing heart. Only then did she uncork the bottle and slide the rolled paper free of its glass cage.
You and the traitor will never be free of me. My eyes see everything. My reach is limitless and my revenge will be sweet and terrible.
-S
Zo’s head snapped up. She glanced around the thin trees and tall grass, suddenly wary. That woman. That demon could be watching her, even now. But how? Was Chief Barnabas’s Seer so cunning? Were her spies inside the camp? Had they always been?
Memories of her interactions with the Seer inside Ram’s Gate came flooding back. Her small dark eyes that weaseled into Zo’s thoughts. The woman had an eerie way of knowing everything that happened inside the Gate and was known for her exquisitely brutal punishments for even the slightest infraction. She was the reason Joshua had nearly died in the prizefight and consequently, the reason she was broken as a healer.
Everything that had happened since they’d arrived—the fire, the sabotaged spears, the poisonings—it was all her. Taunting them. Wanting Zo and Gryphon to know they hadn’t truly escaped her. That they never would.
Zo shattered the bottle against the rocks and sprinted back to camp, taking the smell of the Seer’s victims with her.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Ram never retreat.
It was a philosophy drilled into him as a child and reinforced in every training session since. In drills, he never slackened when his body wanted to surrender. In the few skirmishes he’d survived, even when outnumbered, he’d never backed down. When he finally made the decision to get Zo out of the Gate, he’d followed that dangerous course to the end and beyond.
Ram never retreat.
But now, running back to the Commander and away from Zo and the glaring omission that stood between them, the forbidden word retreat alternated with coward in his mind. Not only did his self-respect demand he turn around and face her, but the knowledge that Zo deserved his honesty screamed he return and explain everything.
He didn’t turn around. The taste of her lips shamed him all the way to the Commander’s tent.
By dusk, most of the camp was in chaos. Men barked orders, boys ran messages, and animals bellowed the occasional complaint as heavy packs were secured to their backs. Gryphon walked among the throng of confused soldiers who’d been given orders to pack. Families of both the Raven and the few Wolf women and children who’d lingered after the Ostara were given the same instructions. All questions would be answered in only a few short hours when Commander Laden addressed the Allies.
Gryphon had arrived at Laden’s tent at the same time as the Raven scouts. Murtog, the Wolf Alpha, and Chief Naat were already in council with Laden. The scouts not only confirmed that the Ram had begun their march from Ram’s Gate to the Valley of Wolves, but that a massive caravan of Nameless traveled with them.
Laden and the others agreed that it was time to evacuate the camp in the morning. No one would rest easy tonight after the announcement.
If it were Gryphon’s decision, he would have waited until the morning to give orders. There was no sense letting his men lose valuable sleep when tomorrow they could march away that nervous energy. It was unreasonable to ask a man to wait till morning when his family’s safety hung in the balance.
He certainly wouldn’t have waited a night, not even an hour, before journeying to protect the people he loved. He winced under the weight of his own thoughts. He didn’t want to think about Joshua or Zo or even Tess. Too painful.
As if the kid could sense his thoughts, Joshua stumbled out from behind one of the many tents scattered across the camp.
“Gryph!” He tripped over his feet and flopped into Gryphon’s side.
Gryphon reached out to help him gain his balance. Like any half-grown pup, the kid’s feet had always seemed too big for his body.
“Where have you been?” Joshua leaned into Gryphon. His breath reeked of yeast and barley.
“What have you been doing?” Gryphon shook his shoulders.
“Looking for you,” he said, breathing a particularly foul mouthful of air onto Gryphon with that last you.
“Where, in the bottom of a mug?” Gryphon hooked Joshua’s upper arm and hauled him through the camp. Men darted out of his path, likely seeing the crazed glint in his eyes. Joshua did his best to keep his feet beneath him as they moved.
Gryphon ripped open their tent and sat Joshua down on the cot. “I leave you alone for five hours and come back to find you drunk?” Of all the timing.
Joshua covered his ears. “Why are you yelling?” he moaned, and fell face first into his bedroll. Without Sani, the tent was too large for just two people. The thought made Gryphon ill.
“They didn’t think I was brave enough to try it, Gryph,” he spoke into his pillow. “I had no choice.” After a few long, sleepy breaths he added, “I should have been the one to follow you that night.” A few more breaths. “I’ll never be great. Never prove myself.” His chest rose and fell in sleep.