Nameless (Nameless #1)(20)
Joshua jumped to his feet and bounded to the door. “I’ve got training tomorrow. Need to get some sleep.” He went to leave but stopped and turned. “Her name is Zo, Gryph.”
Chapter 11
Zo couldn’t stop thinking of Gabe as she silently slipped out the door of the Nameless’ barracks. Just knowing he was somewhere inside the Gate made it hard to concentrate on her footing as she navigated the darkness. There was a good chance that at this moment he was being tortured for information. No use hoping for a better alternative.
Gabe had plenty to hide. Beyond knowing the plans and location of the Allied Camp, Gabe was one of the few people to ever be invited into the Raven settlement as an ambassador for Commander Laden. If what Zo heard in the Medica was true, Chief Barnabas would do anything to have that kind of tactical information. Yes, the Ram needed the Raven food stores, but Zo had a feeling there was more to it than that. What if the Ram really did intend to move the entire clan south? She knew the Wolves sat on the most fertile land in the region. Would the Ram try to take it from them? No one—not even Commander Laden—believed they’d have the nerve to strike so far from the Gate.
But what if they did?
Zo’s foot caught on a low branch and she stumbled to the earth, bruising her knee on a rock. She pushed her palms into the soggy ground and let her head hang forward. She welcomed the pain of her throbbing knee. The dark emotion that had long ago hijacked her rational self actually enjoyed the pain. Told her she deserved it. Even uncomfortable feeling is still … feeling.
The thick mud on her face itched like a wicked rash and she eventually climbed back to her feet. Clumps of rock-hard clay ripped away layers of Zo’s skin before they fell to the dark forest floor. Her body reeked like manure, but she couldn’t complain about the results of the mud and smelly perfume. With the exception of the Gate Master, the Ram soldiers had left her alone.
The moon glowed like a thousand torches reflecting off the white stone of the mountain as she walked to the river. This far away from the barracks she could almost imagine she was outside the Gate.
At home picking peas in the garden while Gabe romped around the yard with Tess laughing uncontrollably while riding on his shoulders.
Free.
Zo forced thoughts of Gabe away and traveled with the silence of the Wolf, keeping to the balls of her bare feet, avoiding low branches and twigs by instinct as much as practice. She reached the river near the base of the mountain in record time.
Zo pulled out one of five glass bottles from her satchel and double-checked the stopper. She hugged the bottle to her chest before carefully dropping it into the river. Her hands shook and she repeated her actions until all five were lost to the fast moving current. Five chances for the Allies to learn Gabe’s fate and discover the location and times of the next Ram excursion. Five promises to look deeper into the threat of a Ram move and to send more information soon.
Commander Laden had been very clear about the information he needed her to gather. His list was as precise as it was long: the number of battle-ready troops, supplies, weapons, coordinates for a possible Ram excursions. Anything that might help the Cause.
Zo watched the hope of her people float away, absorbed by the dark water. She was contributing to the alliance. Paying back a small fraction of the pain Ram soldiers had caused her.
The soft breeze died down, making Zo’s odor hang heavy in the stagnant air. Her stench burned her nostrils as she looked longingly at the clean rushing water. One bath wouldn’t kill her. She’d have Tess double up on her mud paint tomorrow.
Zo pulled off her woolen shirt and untied the rope holding up her too-large pants. The cold water numbed her bare skin as she stepped deeper and deeper into the mountain river. Her shivers turned violent when the water reached her shoulders. She fought against the current while she scrubbed at her skin, using her blunt nails to rake away the layers of plastered mud and grime.
Out of habit she softly hummed a washing song to calm her nerves. A song her mother had taught her before her world turned upside-down.
It was well past dark when Gryphon was finally released from the Medica. He walked the mountain trail home with Joshua chatting away under his good arm. Using his hands to tell his training story, the boy bounced up and down.
“Toban shouldn’t have beaten me in hand-to-hand. I had him in a lock,” Joshua held up his arms to demonstrate, “and was ready to demand ‘yield’ when he elbowed my bad side. Right in the button! Even after Master Cadmos instructed him not to.”
Gryphon fought a smile. “How long were you down?”
“Half a minute. Maybe twenty seconds. It doesn’t matter. He didn’t follow the rules.”
Gryphon stopped and took both of Joshua’s shoulders in his hands. “There are no rules in war, Joshua. A good fighter expects his weaknesses to be exploited and uses that foresight to his own advantage.”
A faint voice could barely be heard over the river. Gryphon put a shushing finger to his mouth. He stepped off the trail, following the sound.
“I thought you said we were going to your family home,” said Joshua, trailing behind like a spring duckling. “Your mom made food.”
Gryphon whipped around in a crouch and placed his fist to the ground. The signal for caution.
Joshua nodded, a look of anticipation in his eyes. He deftly pulled a dagger from his leg sheath and inched to Gryphon’s side with exaggerated stealth.