Nameless (Nameless #1)(73)
When he finally made it to the other side of the square Gryphon ran down the cobbled road to Barnabas’ home. The guards at the massive oak doors aimed their spears at his chest. “Stop,” they ordered.
Gryphon ran so hard he almost fell over trying to stop in time to avoid the guards’ spears. It took him a moment to catch his breath. “I need to speak with the Historian.”
“What do you want with my grandmother?”
Gryphon whipped around to find the chief looking like he wanted to filet Gryphon’s innards in the belly of his shield. The Historian rested a withered hand on her grandson’s arm. Gryphon had hoped to convince the old woman to use her authority to open the Gate. But now …
He stammered an apology, but the Historian cut him off. “Gryphon, I’m so glad you made it. Look for my Nameless man back in the square. He’ll assist you in your goals.”
“My goals,” Gryphon repeated flatly.
“Yes, a big fellow with a red tie wrapped around his arm. I require him to wear it. All those cattle look alike to me.”
Barnabas patted his grandmother’s hand. The old woman sighed. “I imagine he’s helping Eva as we speak.”
“Eva?” Gryphon knew he sounded ridiculous, but he had absolutely no idea what the crazy woman meant.
Chief Barnabas’ lips formed a tight line. “What are you up to, Gryphon?” he asked. “And why does it involve my grandmother?” He placed a protective arm around the woman’s frail back.
“I’m sorry, Sir. It’s just—”
“I’ll fill you in on everything on our way to the prizefight, dear. They can’t begin without you.” The Historian pulled the reluctant chief away from the house. She turned back and winked at Gryphon when Barnabas wasn’t looking.
Gryphon didn’t waste time contemplating the Historian’s words. He ducked off the path and into the woods again, jumping over logs and pushing away branches until he broke through the tree line at a sprint and entered the throng of Ram and Nameless gathered in the center of town for the prizefight.
A sea of Ram surrounded the platform. The tips of spears stood out in the crowd like porcupine quills, swords reflected the early morning light, blinding Gryphon as he looked up to find Joshua huddled in one corner of the platform. He kept his arms folded and his head down. His eyes were trained on the floor in the center of the platform, as if trying to avoid the hundreds of eyes trained on him. Mostly he just looked small. Too young for what lay ahead.
Joshua’s challenger was yet to arrive, but Gryphon knew it wouldn’t be long. He searched the crowd for Eva and the mysterious Nameless with the red strip of cloth tied to his arm. He had no idea how this man was supposed to help him, but he knew the Historian mentioned the Nameless for a reason. After several minutes of searching, Gryphon couldn’t help but feel like he was wasting time.
Joshua wasn’t ready for a prizefight. What if the kid lost?
A horn sounded and most of the crowd quieted as Joshua’s opponent walked through a tall aisle of Ram toward the platform. Gryphon stood on his toes to get a look at the Nameless, but was too far away to see anything. Ram soldiers gasped, the hum of their reaction to the challenger filling the square.
Gryphon was out of time. Barnabas would be here any moment and the fight would commence.
“Gryphon!” Eva rushed over to meet him, carrying a light pack and bedroll. She stood with the Nameless along the outer rim of the crowd. “You have to stop them!”
Another horn sounded announcing the entrance of the chief, but Gryphon didn’t bother looking at the platform. Instead he approached the tall Nameless at Eva’s side. His arm was cast in a sling, but Gryphon would have recognized the man even without the red fabric tied to his bicep. It was the same Nameless he’d seen at Eva’s wedding. “The Historian told me to find you.”
The man nodded. “She asked me to give you this.” He handed Gryphon a small linen bag. Its contents clinked together and a strong-smelling powder puffed through the unseen holes of the fabric, smelling very much like the Historian’s shed.
“Careful, Striker.” The Nameless explained the volatile nature of bag and its purpose. “Attach it to the front of your spear. A ladder is set up behind the Building of Records. You’ll only have one chance at this. The Historian and I will help you open the gate, but you must hurry!”
“I can’t just—”
The giant Nameless took Gryphon’s arm and squeezed. “I’m told many of your men will leave today to slaughter the Raven.”
Gryphon couldn’t believe this man, this Nameless, knew of the Ram’s plans.
“The Historian said to tell you that if you want to save those you love, you must be willing to cut off your arm.”
Eva couldn’t stop staring at the platform. “Just go, Gryph,” she shrieked. “They need you!”
Gryphon saw the flame of Joshua’s hair out of the corner of his eye as he pushed his way out of the square. He hoped Gabe had found Zo and was ready to free her once Gryphon created the diversion. He found the wooden ladder propped up against the records building, right where the Nameless said it would be.
A pearl of sweat rolled into his eyes as he tied one final knot securing the dangerous bundle onto the end of his spear. He worked in a daze, not knowing if he could do what was required to save Joshua and Zo. He placed one heavy boot on the ladder, pulled a deep breath through his nose then started the climb with one hand holding the deadly spear. Every rung of the ladder brought him closer to his doom, but as if propelled by strength that wasn’t his own, he kept reaching for the next rung. Then the next.