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Authors: Jennifer Jenkins

Tags: #fantasy, #young adult, #teen, #romance, #science fiction, #survival stories

Clanless (15 page)

BOOK: Clanless
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Joshua, who’d been lying fast asleep at Zo’s side, sprang to his feet, and with one quick motion launched his spear into one of dark figures. The second man released his hold on the husband and barreled toward Joshua.

“No!” Zo screamed.

Metal from the wild man’s knives flashed in the torchlight as he pounced, but Joshua ducked out of the way and in the same motion turned and thrust his fist into the man’s side.

The dark man released a labored growl and turned back to face Joshua. Only then did Zo consider his immense size, his arms stretched out wide like a massive bear standing on hind legs. His knives were his claws. Joshua, his prey.

The giant’s back was to Zo, and she didn’t waste the opportunity. She leapt from her place on the ground and tackled the man from behind. He fell almost too easily. Joshua and the Nameless husband each jumped onto one of his arms to detain the monster. The man bucked and fought, making it impossible for Zo to keep her seat. More men jumped on him, binding his arms behind his back. The man with the spear in his stomach lay motionless beside them.

Stone’s orders thundered across the clearing, and soon everyone in camp was awake and crowding tighter into the protective circle. Men raised their makeshift spears and the soft sob of children carried on the breeze. Everyone’s attention stayed fixed on the black trees and bushes surrounding the clearing.

“They weren’t human,” someone hissed. “Demon animals that walked on two legs,” said another.

Zo hooked Joshua by the collar as other Nameless men dragged the captive away. “What were you thinking?” Zo spun him around. “You can’t just go and fight a wild man. You’re young, Joshua. You could have been killed!”

Joshua tugged free of Zo’s hold and took a step back. “I’m not a kid, Zo.”

Zo eyed the space between them with disgust. She wanted nothing more than to hug the boy, but even though he was a kid, Zo saw a glimpse of the man within.

“Gryphon trained me to react, and that is exactly what I did. It’s who I am. It’s who he wanted me to be.” Joshua’s voice shook just enough for Zo to know he was fighting emotions that had nothing to do with tonight.

Zo closed the distance between them, and when he tried to push her comfort away, she batted his hands and threw her arms around his neck. “I just … ” A sob ripped from her throat. “I just can’t lose you, too.”

Joshua stood still as a plank of wood, but eventually melted and put his arms around Zo, patting her back. “I’m sorry, Zo,” he said, but she could tell he wasn’t apologizing for fighting that man tonight.

Once Zo could speak without breaking her composure, she whispered, “You were amazing. He would have been so proud of you.”

This time, Joshua’s resolve to be strong broke and he was thirteen again. Zo looked down to find Tess hugging him from behind. Her little lips moved in the form of one of her blessings.

“This is the boy!” someone shouted.

Zo and Tess stepped away as Stone marched up and clasped one of Joshua’s hands. Zo hoped for Joshua’s sake that no one saw the boy’s tears in the darkness.

“Good man,” said Stone. He turned to Zo. “We lost three others, and would have lost a fourth, if it weren’t for your boy here.” He slapped Joshua on the back.

“Do you want to tell me what that was?” asked Stone.

Zo wanted to sink to her knees in exhaustion. She placed her arm around Tess and dragged the girl more firmly to her side. “
That
was a Clanless attack.”

Chapter 12

 

 

A few hundred yards from the edge, Gryphon and a small company of Raven warriors assembled to take orders from the commander whom Chief Naat had left in charge. The new leader was middle-aged and stood almost as tall as Gryphon, making him a giant among his people. His head was shaven and white paint ran in long lines down his face, as though smeared by his own fingertips.

He stared out at the twenty or so men who wouldn’t be joining their wives and children as they boarded ships on the other side of the island.

“Rati, supplies. Kyi and Peti, your men are on traps. Veta, your bow and a black arrow. Meet us at the pit. Two minutes,” the commander rasped. At his word, men shot like arrows out to fulfill their tasks. The clipped orders provided Gryphon almost no hint of their plan, only a strong sense of foreboding which made his heart pound in furious time with the distant rhythm of Ram axes.

To Gryphon the commander said, “You will come with me.” He thrust a melon-sized barrel into Gryphon arms, lifted another barrel onto his own shoulder, and took off at a run toward the heart of the village. Gryphon hadn’t asked questions. He’d just tucked the barrel under his arm and followed.

When he first saw the illustrious pit filled with enough barrels of grain to solve the Ram’s food shortage, he had to blink a few times to be sure it was real. He’d been on many excursions over the last two years searching for the Nest—for the grain. He’d begun to think it only existed in myth.

When the Raven leader descended a ladder, Gryphon followed. He used his knife to spear a hole into the lid of the barrel then threw the blade to Gryphon for him to do the same. “Diluted pine resin.” The Raven answered Gryphon’s question before he had a chance to ask. Spread it over the top of the barrels along the perimeter of the pit.”

Gryphon obeyed, walking around the edge of the pit and pouring a wavy trail of resin over the barrels. The Raven leader followed behind him sprinkling shiny black powder over the sticky barrels.

“The trees!” someone yelled from above the pit. “They’re about to fall!”

Gryphon ran the rest of the perimeter; emptying his bucket over the barrels with the Raven leader right on his heels. When he finished his task, Gryphon tossed his bucket onto the ground and flew up the ladder and out of the pit.

Though he hadn’t been told the purpose of the resin and powder, a sinking dread filled his stomach. He glanced over his shoulder one last time to take in the sight of all of those barrels. Grain meant flour and flour meant bread and full bellies. No small miracle in their hungry region.

The young bowman met them fifty yards from the pit carrying an arrow with the tip covered in a black, porous substance. “I have everything ready, sir.” He lifted an oil lantern with a nod.

“Good,” the painted leader said. “Hold your arrow until it will do the most damage.”

“Yes, sir.” The young man sprinted up a set of stairs that spiraled around a nearby tree.

“The rest of you, get into position,” the leader shouted.

Gryphon and the twenty or so Raven who’d been left to prepare for invasion sprinted to the edge of the island to meet the Ram. Climbing the backside of one of the island redwoods, he pulled himself onto a platform with the other men. Strangers, all of them.

A brief thought—
What am I doing here?
—flitted through his mind. He didn’t know these men. They shared the common goal of wanting to escape the island alive, but that was all. The men of his Ram mess trusted one another with their lives. They were men he’d die to defend and who would willingly return the sacrifice.

He thought of the archer and his black-tipped arrow, and his stomach rolled, more conflicted than ever.

Gryphon lay flat on his stomach, watching the Ram take axes to the mammoth trees that stood at the edge of the cliff. The Raven surrounding him seethed and winced as the Ram hacked at their ancient heritage.

There was no sense in the Raven using their bows against the Ram shields that protected the men working the axes. The Raven conserved their arrows and waited.

Lying on the platform felt like waiting for death. “There has to be another way off the island,” he said. Wood-slatted armor rattled as the Raven at his side turned away from him. But Gryphon didn’t care. He’d risked everything to help these people and dying wasn’t part of the plan. Especially not when he had a favor to return to Zander.

Everyone startled when Sani dropped onto the platform from a branch above. The boy dusted his hands on his pants and crawled over to Gryphon and the others. “The chief filled all of our smaller fishing vessels with supplies to be towed behind the big boats,” he said. “Our only option is to cross the logs after the Ram come over. If we’re lucky, the Ram will follow us, giving our people the time they need to distance themselves from shore.”

“You’re supposed to be on a boat,” Gryphon growled at Sani. The last thing he needed was another kid around to remind him of Joshua.

“I told you before; I’m your
‘Atiin
. I’m honor-bound to serve you until I have paid back my debt.”

“You’re a fool. None of your people would condemn you for not following through with this whole
‘Atiin
thing. One less Ram in the world would be a blessing in their eyes.”

“But they wouldn’t have to live with the shame. I would.” He studied Gryphon more closely. “Where is your armor?” He looked down the row of warriors and frowned. “Did no one bother to find you some?”

The other Raven had the decency to look sheepish.

Sani pushed up onto his knees and went to remove his own armor. He was instantly tackled by one of the warriors. Another removed his own wood-slatted chest plate and forced it into Gryphon’s hands. The man was so narrow, Gryphon had no hope of strapping on the armor, but he was too stunned by Sani’s rash decision and the effect it had on the men to do anything but hold it stupidly in his arms.

Little Sani, a boy Joshua’s age, was the clear leader of their suicidal band. Gryphon shook his head in wonder and handed the armor back to the warrior who offered it. “No, thank you,” he said. Then he turned to Sani. “You don’t belong here, boy. Or have you already forgotten the ruthlessness of my clan?”

Sani clasped two hands in front of him and shrugged. “The boats have left. This conversation is pointless.” He turned his attention back to the mainland and left Gryphon gaping.

The redwoods groaned as the last splinters of wood snapped under the weight of the giant conifer. When they fell, it was as if a portion of the sky fell with them. The tree Gryphon and the Raven warriors perched in shook as the wooden carcasses connected with the island to form a bridge.

The Raven murmured curses, their hatred for Gryphon’s people almost as tangible as their agony over the loss of their trees. Their ancestors.

“I’m sorry.” Gryphon whispered when the sound of breaking branches and shifting ground ceased. It needed to be said, even though the apology wasn’t nearly enough to balm the pain of losing so much.

The twenty Raven warriors each nocked an arrow but stayed low and out of view. Gryphon was more accustomed to seeing Raven from the ground as they fired upon him. This new vantage point gave him a deeper appreciation for the discipline of the Birds.

The Ram couldn’t keep formation as they climbed over and under branches of the felled trees to get to the island. One of the Raven warriors stretched his bow, practically shaking with the desire to kill.

“Don’t,” said Gryphon. “You’ll give away our position.” The man looked ready to turn his bow on Gryphon, but didn’t. They all knew their only chance of escape was through stealth.

Ten Ram made it to shore. Then twenty. Thirty. They linked back into formation, holding their shields aloft and spears at the ready. They scanned the trees, each man protecting his brother’s back as the army advanced along the road that led deeper into the island.

Men he’d known his whole life approached the Raven’s first trap—a trip wire made from Lion’s Silk triggered to set off a slew of automatic crossbows. The deepest form of betrayal was to sit and watch his clansmen walk unknowingly to their deaths. The desire to call out to them, to warn them, filled his lungs.

He could save them. It would be so easy. By doing so, he might earn back his place in his clan. Zo was gone, and Joshua had a better shot at happiness without him in his life.

If he helped the Ram—his people—he might be allowed to the go back to his family home and to his mother. She’d be happy to have him, even after his betrayal. Ajax still needed help concealing his new son’s birth defect from Ram authorities, and it would be nice to get back to training with his mess brothers—with the exception of Zander, of course.

Gryphon shook his head and pushed his clenched fists into his forehead. Logic raged against the convictions of his heart. How could he go back and serve in Barnabas’s ranks? How could he sit by and let his people die? No matter what damage the Raven traps did today, the Ram were too strong to be defeated, even by the combined forces of the Kodiak, Raven, and Wolves. What use was there going against the winning player in the region’s power struggle? Why not preserve himself? It would be so much easier.

Gryphon recalled a training session he’d designed for Joshua when the boy was only ten years old. He’d set markers in the field in front of his family home for Joshua to run sprints. Joshua, always eager to learn, nodded his head vigorously as Gryphon explained the drill. Later, when he looked out the window to check on Joshua’s progress, he saw that the boy had moved the markers closer together to make for a shorter run.

BOOK: Clanless
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