Nameless (9 page)

Gryphon’s mess puffed white clouds of morning air as they ran. Their steps fell sure, if somewhat slower than they had five days ago. Zander finally called halt when they reached the top of a steep plateau. The men could barely hear his orders over the gusting wind. “Shields … shelter … rest.”

The group of brothers didn’t need further explanation. They staked their shields into the half-frozen soil in a perfect ring then huddled along the inside wall formed to escape the wind. Zander tossed them all some dried meat and flat bread. They chewed while he spoke.

“How far to our target search point?” Zander asked Lincoln, the navigator of the group.

Lincoln pulled out the compass and chart. He scratched the peppered beard that made him look much older than he was and walked his fingers along the map. “We’re practically there, sir. No more than two or three miles out.”

Zander nodded. “We’ll split up to cover more ground. My team will veer west. Gryphon’s team will veer east. Make a full circle. Search every rock, every trail. Meet back here at sundown.”

Gryphon swallowed hard on a dry crust of bread. Since when did he have command over a team? Striker was one thing, but this …

“Sir?” he said.

“Walk with me, Gryphon.”

Gryphon followed his captain out of the circle of shields. His muscles were stiff from the brief rest. They stopped behind a lone tree to hide from the loud wind.

“Sir, I’m one of the youngest in the mess. I have no right—”

“You have every right if I give it to you,” Zander growled. “You’re the best I have, Gryphon. Don’t let me down.”

Gryphon nodded, gulping down the contents of his churning stomach. “Thank you, sir.”

Zander walked away, his words nearly swallowed by the roaring wind. “Thank me by finding some Wolves. The chief wants them alive.”

They slept for two hours before readying their packs and weapons. Gryphon, Ajax, and six others followed a trail northeast, while Zander and the rest of the mess moved northwest. Gryphon had never been this far north, even the wind blowing through the high grass sounded foreign. Spring came later here. The spongy carpet of green gave way beneath their boots as they zigzagged across the hilly terrain.

“Five square miles is too much for one group to search,” said Brutus, one of Gryphon’s mess brothers, between gulps of air when they stopped for water. Brutus wasn’t a feather over five and a half feet tall. He had a shaved head and bloated muscles that commanded respect. “Split us up. We can cover twice the ground.”

Gryphon corked his water skin and shook his head. “Too dangerous. We have no idea what’s out there. We can’t risk it.”

Brutus showed Gryphon his back and muttered, “Too afraid to get the job done.”

Gryphon yanked his brother around and stabbed his spear into the ground, an inch from the man’s foot. “Are you calling me a coward? If so, have the honor to say it to my face!”

Brutus glared at him before ducking his head. “No, sir.”

Gryphon released him and addressed the now silent group of men. “Let’s pick up the pace.”

They ran through midday and into the afternoon without seeing a footprint. Gryphon pushed on, determined not to fail Zander and his brothers in the mess.

It was Ajax who finally had the nerve to say what the rest were likely thinking. “The sun’s sinking, Gryph. We need to head back.”

He was right, of course, but it didn’t make the decision to quit searching any easier. Gryphon nodded. “Back to the rally point.”

As they followed the slope downhill, a short burst of light caught Gryphon’s eye. He blinked, searching for a source of water in the gully below, but then saw a hint of movement in the thick foliage.

Gryphon barely spoke above a whisper. “Movement below. Southwest patch of bushes.”

To the group’s credit, they marched on like nothing had happened until they were within twenty yards of the bushes.

Another beam of light blinded Gryphon. He heard the quick thump of a bow just before an arrow entered his shoulder.

“Link!” Gryphon ordered. They tightened into a perfect ball of shields just as another secession of arrows pelted against them.

“I count five archers!” said Ajax.

“Six,” groaned Gryphon, gesturing to the foreign arrow in his shoulder.

Ajax barely spared Gryphon a glance as he leaned over and ripped it out.

“Ahhhhh!” Gryphon growled. His vision swirled as he tried to clear his head through the pain.

“They’re running!” one of the men called.

“Not again!” Gryphon pushed through the phalanx of shields and took off at a dead sprint, leaving his brothers behind.

The enemy ran deep into a shallow ravine as Gryphon charged after, running along a narrow ridge ten feet above them.

Shouts from his brothers who couldn’t match Gryphon’s pace sounded from behind. Going off alone, without the protection of the mess, went against Ram training, but he refused to lose this man. This Wolf.

With every jarring footfall, Gryphon thought of the shield hanging above his family hearth. The shield that kept him from becoming what his father never had. He pushed himself harder. The distance between he and the Wolf narrowed, but so did the small ridge above the gorge. He’d have to jump.

The Wolf bringing up the rear of the group slid to a halt. He turned to face Gryphon, drawing a sword from his back sheath. Gryphon almost stumbled in shock as the fool charged. Gryphon leapt off the ledge. Ram and Wolf collided in the air, but Gryphon’s momentum carried them swiftly to the ground. The hilt of the Wolf’s sword slammed across his face. The Wolf’s free hand reached for a dagger, but Gryphon grabbed his wrist to stop him.

The Wolf was strong, and judging by his surprised expression, he hadn’t expected Gryphon to match him. Gryphon blocked another hit to the face, grateful he was too close to get the long end of the Wolf’s sword. With both hands occupied, Gryphon arched his head back and butted the Wolf in the face. Blood poured from the enemy’s nose, but his hand moved even closer to the dagger.

Ajax pulled Gryphon off to let the rest of the mess take over.

It took four of them to get the deadly sword from the Wolf’s hands. They bound his arms behind his back and tied a rope around his neck.

“What were you thinking?” Ajax’s dark complexion matched his mood. He made a tourniquet and wrapped it around Gryphon’s shoulder.

“I got him, didn’t I?”

Ajax fought a smile as he cinched the dressing with more force than necessary. “Yes, you did.”

Gryphon kept his eye trained on the prisoner as he took the length of rope. The pain from his shoulder streaked through his whole body, pulsing and terrible, but he didn’t show his enemy weakness.

Blood dripped from the Wolf’s nose onto his lips and chin. He didn’t seem to be any older than Gryphon. One eye was swollen shut. A deep gash ran from cheek to chin. He stood tall, looking Gryphon directly in the eyes.

Gryphon couldn’t help but be impressed.

It was a shame the Wolf had to die.

Zo carried a stack of Medica records through the torch-lit square, eyeing the raised fighting platform with contempt as she passed. She’d never been out at night before, and as ashamed as she was to admit it, the flickering lights and shadow-cast faces caused fear to weave throughout her body. She missed the colorful painted lanterns and rich laughter that had dominated the nights of her childhood with the Wolves. Here the air carried a hard, cold energy that made her want to turn back and wait out the nightmare until morning.

She tugged on the heavy wooden door of the Building of Records and slipped inside. A shadowed figure cornered Zo the moment she entered. He smelled like bad cheese, the kind with too much curd and too many days left to age.

“State your purpose here, Nameless.” Of all the men inside the Gate she’d hoped to repel with the mud, the Gate Master topped the list. The trouble was he never looked at her face.

“I have records from the Medica.”

The Gate Master eyed the papers with disgust. “The Seer and her mindless records,” he mumbled.

Zo waited for him to move but he simply stared at her. “The more I see you, the more I know you’re not a Kodiak.” He lifted up her chin to examine her face. “Those blue eyes and full lips. There’s Wolf in your blood. I swear there is.”

If it weren’t for Tess, Zo might have bitten off one of his fingers.

The Gate Master raked her cheek with his fingernail, clearing away a line of plastered mud. “You might actually be something to look at underneath that filth. Maybe we should take a walk to the steam caves and find out.”

“The records … ” Zo whispered, still casting her gaze to the floor.

A young boy burst through the door. “Master Leon! Master Leon!”

The Gate Master pushed Zo aside. “What is it?”

“Zander and his men are back. They caught a Wolf! They caught a Wolf!”

The two men hurried away and left Zo unattended in the Building of Records.

Unwilling to think of the poor Wolf they had captured, she ducked into a room, clutching the stack of records to her heaving chest.

The room was instantly familiar. The bare walls. The orderly desk piled with neat stacks of parchment and scrolls. The Seer’s office. She dropped the Medica records on the desk and went to leave when a page of the Seer’s neat script froze her feet to the floor.

“Military Records,” she whispered aloud.

She dove toward the desk and rifled through the pages. The stack of parchment was an inch thick, filled with numbers and records of troop movement, supply inventories, and more. She snatched the stack off the desk and shoved it into the front fold of her white Medica robe, looking over her shoulder all the while.

It took everything in her not to run through the hall to get out of the building and back to her bunk. The papers crinkled with every hurried step, itching her chest, reminding her of the risk she’d taken. She stepped into the evening air and a smile stretched across her face. The papers tucked close to her chest gave her purpose. Meaning. She wanted to skip. To prance around the square and make a mockery of the monster that was the Ram.

Her smile faltered when she spotted Joshua’s friend, Gryphon enter through the giant gate. A blood soaked wrap covered his Ram-sized shoulder. She stopped walking. The urge to help him came from a place deep within. It was warm and completely foreign, but there all the same. She shook her head, blaming Joshua for making her soft.

She didn’t see the prisoner Gryphon dragged behind him until they passed her.

“No!” she sobbed.

For one moment the earth froze mid-rotation, the heavens shattered and fell like daggers from the sky, and everyone standing within earshot turned to see the Nameless who dared speak against the Ram.

Zo’s eyes locked with Gabe’s, the history of their childhood together passed before her eyes, then Gabe’s head slumped forward and he collapsed to the ground, drawing the attention away from Zo and back to him.

Zo didn’t squander the distraction. She tugged up the front of her robe and sprinted all the way to the Nameless’ barracks. Throwing herself on the bed, she sobbed until crying turned to breathless convulsing and convulsing turned to rage.