Nameless (Nameless #1)(2)
She left Gabe standing frozen in the low light of morning.
After a hard climb, Zo reached the towering wall of Ram’s Gate. The wall was comprised of redwood logs at least four feet in diameter and fifty feet tall, bound together with heavy rope and shaved to a point at the top. Black tar and broken glass glimmered along the high rim of the wall to discourage clans foolish enough to attack, and souls brave enough to dare escape.
Zo looked right and left and saw no end to the wall through the thick maze of aspen and evergreens. From her training with Commander Laden, she knew the giant wall ran for miles in each direction until it reached the cliffs that dropped off to the freezing ocean below. Inside the wall were hundreds of acres of farmlands, mountainous forests, and enough homes to house thousands of Ram and the slaves they called “Nameless.”
Calmer than a sane person should be, Zo dropped to her knees in the shadow of the ominous wall. Knowing these might be the last free moments of her life, she allowed herself to think about things that were normally buried deep within her. The memory of her mother’s soft skin. The safety of her father’s smile. Tess’ dimples and her eagerness to please, despite her stubborn ways.
The moment was as sweet as it was brief. But it was hers.
Deep-voiced drums boomed and the enormous gate rose inch by inch. Men shouted orders and whips cracked. Through the gap of the slow-rising gate she saw at least forty men in tattered animal hides with harnesses on their backs. They slipped through mud while struggling to turn a giant wheel connected to a thick chain to raise the gate.
The Nameless. The Ram had kept slaves for hundreds of years, some were captured, others came willingly, while most were born into the lowly title.
Instinct told her to run, but fear and determination kept her frozen in place. She locked the people she loved back into the cage that was her heart and prepared to face her enemy.
Zo pressed her nose into the icy mud in a show of submission. The drums ceased and the silence echoed in her chest like a painful heartbeat.
The metal of short swords clinked against armor as men approached. She peeked up to sight of a bald leader walking ahead of a wall of six soldiers. His cold eyes seemed too big for his head, protuberant like those of a frog.
“Get up,” the leader commanded.
Zo climbed to her feet but kept her gaze focused on the man’s fur-lined boots.
“State your name and clan,” he ordered.
“I am from the family Shaw of the Kodiak Clan,” Zo said, hoping her accent would pass. The Ram had raided one of the Kodiak settlements a few weeks earlier. Many of the women and children whose husbands had died in the raid would come to the Gate, choosing to offer themselves as slaves over watching their children starve to death.
The leader circled her. “Age?”
“Seventeen.”
A few of the guards in the line exchanged words. One laughed under his breath.
“You’re too thin to claim the Kodiak as your clan. Your jaw is more square than round.”
The sound of a young girl’s scream saved Zo from having to answer.
“Let me go! You’re hurting me!” the girl cried.
Zo froze. It couldn’t be …
A guard dressed in full armor carried the kicking child up the muddy hill and dropped her at the bald leader’s feet.
Zo’s whole body went rigid as her eight-year-old sister, Tess, scrambled up to hug her. “I’m so sorry,” Tess cried. She must have secretly followed them from the Allies, though how she survived the dangerous journey unnoticed was beyond Zo.
“Tess, I thought I’d lost you,” Zo stammered. She hoped her shock registered as relief instead of panic. “Don’t say a word,” Zo whispered in her ear as they embraced.
“Who is this child?” the frog-eyed leader asked.
“She is my sister, sir. We were separated. She found me.”
“Clearly.” He circled the girls once more then reached out and grabbed Zo by the throat, forcing her to the ground on her back. His lips brushed her cheek as he spoke. “How do I know you’re not a stinking Wolf? That you’re not feeding me some story?” His breath reeked of stale cabbage and rotten sausage.
Zo’s heels dug small trenches in the mud as she struggled against the hand tightening around her throat. Black dots invaded her vision.
The leader smiled and licked his lips as if she were his next meal. “We don’t allow Wolves through the Gate.” A string of spittle escaped his lips and landed on her cheek. “Ever.” He released his grip and Zo gasped for air.
Tess rushed to Zo’s side, her eyes wet with tears.
“With all of the clans mixing, it’s getting harder and harder to sort the wheat from the tares. I can’t take any chances … ” He shrugged and nodded to his guard. The men moved in, pulling the sisters apart. Tess let out a shrill cry. A guard struck her tiny cheek.
“Please!” Zo fought against firm hands digging into her arms. “I come from three generations of healers. My sister is learning too. We beg the mercy of the Ram, and pledge our lives to your service!”
The Gate Master held up a hand, and his men threw Zo to the ground. His round, glassy eyes stayed fixed on her as he grunted a soft command to one of his men. The soldier nodded, bowed, and ran back through the Gate.
“A healer, you say?” The corner of his lip pulled up to reveal rotting teeth as he smiled. “We’ll see about that.”