Nameless (Nameless #1)(29)
The words should have come as a relief, but Zo’s stomach twisted.
“Besides,” Gryphon went on, “a life for a life. You saved Joshua. We’re even.” He handed her the medical kit. “The road will take you back to the Medica.”
He stepped off the trail and trudged through the overgrown forest, leaving her staring after him.
There was no way that happened. No possible way. Suspicion filled her with doubt. What was Gryphon playing at?
Dusk pushed away the sun, making the sky bruised and angry. Gryphon inhaled the heavy air, confident the humidity would turn to rain by nightfall. He’d spent the whole afternoon wandering in the back wilderness of the Ram’s Gate. He did his best thinking among the giant evergreens with the sound of the ocean crashing against the cliffs in the distance.
How could he use the Wolf prisoner’s information without breaking his oath to keep the healer safe? He couldn’t report the girl’s involvement without incriminating her, and he also couldn’t warn his people without explaining how he came by the information.
Gryphon still couldn’t believe Wolves and their allies were camped downstream so close to the Gate, receiving messages from the girl in corked bottles. Right under the Ram’s noses! The Wolf prisoner said they were gathering information. But for what purpose?
It bothered him that they’d sent a girl to infiltrate the Gate. A girl! She might be fast and decent with a knife, but the healer was no warrior. And worst of all, she was pretty. Far too pretty to go unnoticed inside the great walls of the Ram. The Wolf claimed the girl had volunteered for the position. If that were true, she must not have understood her slim chances for survival.
Had they not warned her?
Gryphon shook his head and walked the five miles down the sloping hills to join his mess unit in their barracks among the fifty mess cabins that lined the inside of the Gate. The log and mortar buildings formed a giant horseshoe around the main entrance, closest to the danger that existed outside the menacing walls of Ram’s Gate. The rest of the Ram people lived on farms and in the hills that led to the cliff, each with a healthy number of Nameless slaves to help tend their fields.
Gryphon pulled open the cabin door to the barracks to see all of his brothers seated on the edge of their beds. At the front of the room, the Seer, with her black, beady eyes, stopped talking and glared at him.
“I’m sorry to interrupt.” Gryphon quickly settled onto his bunk. Like every other mess cabin, the room was a perfect square with bunks lining the outer four walls. “I didn’t know we had a briefing.” He could almost feel Zander’s eyes boring into him.
The Seer cleared her throat and continued. “Now that everyone is here.” She paused and glared in Gryphon’s direction once more. “I’d like to inform you of a change that will affect all of the unmarried members of this mess unit.”
Gryphon caught Ajax’s eye, but Ajax only shrugged.
“We have decided to lower the marrying age from thirty to twenty-two.” The Seer raised her hands to silence the quiet murmuring in the cabin. “We expect every man in this mess who qualifies to choose a bride by the end of the week. If you fail to do so, one will be assigned you.”
Being only twenty years old, Gryphon thought he had a whole other decade before the Ram would expect him to marry and start a family. For now, he was still a bachelor, but there were at least five or six men in the mess between the ages of twenty-two and thirty. Their reactions to the Seer’s news were mixed. Some smiled and received congratulating punches while others looked like they just found out their favorite hound had died.
No one dared ask the purpose of changing the age-old matrimonial custom. One didn’t have to keep the meticulous tallies and notes of the Seer to know the Ram’s population was on the decline.
There was only one way to become a full member of Ram society and a hundred ways to fail. From birth, every member of the clan was put through a series of tests. Young boys and girls endured grueling training sessions and scheduled beatings. Systematic starvation. Survival missions outside the wall without weapons or provisions. It was all part of the great weeding—the Ram way of determining who was worthy enough to be named a member of the most powerful clan in the region.
“Those of this mess who qualify for marriage will report your request before week’s end. After the matches have been arranged, the Ram will celebrate your engagements with the Wolf prisoner’s execution in the square. Consider it an early wedding gift from your generous chief.”
The next day, Zo numbly worked at a table in her wing of the Medica, her eyes glazed over, her mind far away from the task of rolling cotton gauze bandages while her patients rested. Most of her thoughts were of Tess. Thankfully, Gryphon didn’t know anything about her little sister, and she needed to keep it that way.
Life experience had taught her that no matter how convincing Gryphon’s promise to not report her to Ram authorities, chances were he’d betray her eventually. He must have had an angle—a reason for keeping her secret.
You could never trust a Ram.
From now on she would have to be extra careful with her correspondence with the Allies. Any wrong move could tip the scales and prompt Gryphon to talk.
The handle of the workroom door slowly turned and Zo’s attention came back to focus. A slender figure in her trademark leather vest and boots stepped through the doorway.