Fearless

by Jennifer Jenkins

  But would that be so terrible? His conscience pricked him. At least it would mean Zo, Tess, and Joshua were safe. It would mean freedom for the enslaved Nameless.

  Could he condemn his own people?

  Gryphon growled and rolled out of bed to dress as he considered the alternative. The price for his silence would be the lives of women and children who lived unaware of the coming Ram forces in the Valley of Wolves. Zo’s people would be completely destroyed without the help of the Allies. The Ram would not spare even the most helpless babe. And after the blood dried, new homes would be built upon the ash of their bones.

  Gryphon curled his fists into his hair until his scalp burned. These were Zo’s people. He’d warned the Raven without hesitation. How could he justify not warning the Wolves?

  Because I hate them.

  And why was he given this responsibility? Why should one word from him manipulate the destiny of so many?

  “This way, Ram.” A light-haired guard poked his head through the tent. He had the same look as Gabe and for that reason alone, Gryphon decided not to trust him. He followed him to Commander Laden’s tent. When he ducked inside, Laden was giving orders to a pair of soldiers. Millie, the older woman he’d briefly met the day before, gestured for him to sit at one end of Laden’s desk. She set a plate of fried eggs and bread before him.

  “Thank you.” He turned to face the woman and asked, “Could you tell me how to find Zo?”

  The old woman left without meeting his eye and arrived a moment later with a mug and kettle. As she poured a fragrant tea, her hands shook so violently that she spilled.

  She’s afraid of me.

  It was possible the Ram reputation was enough to frighten anyone from an outside clan. But it was also possible her fear came from personal experience. That thought made Gryphon shift uncomfortably in his seat.

  “Thank you,” he said again, picking up a fork. He hesitated before bringing the food to his lips. “It is … safe, isn’t it?” he asked.

  The older woman forgot her fear long enough to scowl at him, ramming her hand onto her hip. “About as safe as having a Ram in my camp.”

  Her camp? Gryphon held her gaze while he slowly spooned eggs into his mouth and chewed. New seasonings he’d never tasted filled his mouth. He quickly took a second bite, and around a mouthful, said, “It’s good. Thank you.”

  Millie’s lips formed a thin line and she walked away, grumbling about Ram devils and feeding the enemy.

  “You just won your first ally,” said Laden.

  Gryphon hadn’t realized he and the Commander were alone. “She hates me. I frighten her.”

  Laden nodded his agreement. “It will take them time to learn to trust you.”

  Gryphon didn’t bother pointing out that he didn’t plan to stay long.

  Twenty-two days.

  Only long enough to get Joshua settled and find a way to say goodbye to the people he cared for most.

  “Wolves, you’ll find, are more tolerant than the Ram. It’s fortunate for you they value forgiveness and justice. Though they might hate you and all you represent, they will weigh the help you’ve given Zo and Tess in their judgments. Just as I have.”

  Gryphon doubted it. “I don’t need them to like me.”

  Laden snorted into his mug. “Yes, you do.”

  At that, Gryphon looked up. “How so?”

  Laden sighed. “The Allies are not a Clan, Gryphon. We are an army that exists to serve one purpose: to bring down the Ram. No one in this camp plans to stay here forever. Most spend the winter months back home with their families. They come here to train and prepare for a fight, but they are Kodiak, Raven, and Wolf first, and Allies second.”

  Gryphon nodded his understanding.

  “When this fight is over, the Allies will dissolve. People will go back to their lives with their own clans, customs, and traditions.”

  “I still don’t know what this has to do with people approving of me.”

  Laden scoffed. “You have no clan, Gryphon. The Ram will not have you back after your betrayal. Where will you go? Who will become your people then? How will you provide for a wife? Trust me. A man without a banner is no man at all.”

  Gryphon took a long drink of tea, doing his best to pretend that Laden’s words hadn’t affected him.

  “If these people don’t grow to trust you, you’ll never be welcomed anywhere after this conflict has passed.”

  So long as Joshua was accepted, being welcomed by the Wolves or any other clan wasn’t Gryphon’s concern. He wouldn’t live long enough for it to matter.

  “Among the Wolves, I am Zo’s fastnandi—her guardian. By their law, you would need my permission to marry.”

  Tea sprayed from Gryphon’s lips. “How can you … we have not discussed … we’re not—”

  Laden waved away Gryphon’s sputtering. “Zo’s father was my best friend. He’d roll over in his grave if he knew his daughter was in love with a Ram. And don’t give me that face. I know you love her too, boy. Unless you’re a spy, you wouldn’t be here if you didn’t.”

  “I do love her. I don’t pretend to deny it.” I just can’t act on it. Not anymore.

  “She’s of age now, and I already have men lining up for the chance to win the girl’s heart. But if I know Zo, she won’t entertain any offer but yours. An offer you’ll never make, so long as I withhold my blessing.”

  Gryphon didn’t care that none of this mattered. He wanted to jump over the table, wrap his hands around the man’s neck, and finish what he started yesterday.

  “And just in case you’re thinking of running off with the girl, you should know that if Zo eloped with you she would not be welcomed back. Your children wouldn’t be considered legitimate Wolves. They’d have no pack to claim them and no family sword passed down to them at birth.”

  Gryphon’s head reeled with the implication. He and Zo. Children. Future. These were things he hadn’t allowed himself to even dream.

  “My point is, if Zo is determined to have you, and you are determined to have her, and by some miracle, I relented and offered my blessing, life would be easier for her and your potential children if you were accepted among her clan.”

  Gryphon found himself struggling for air and Laden rewarded his panic with giant laughter. He wiped the tears from his eyes and said, “Listen. As much as I don’t want you here, as much as I’d love to string you up like the lying Ram you are, for Zo’s sake, I’m going to try and help you not break her heart. The girl has survived more than most. She deserves happiness, even though right now she has a twisted sense of what that looks like.” He leaned forward, resting one elbow on the table and pointing his fork at Gryphon. “Just know that if you hurt her, I’ll make it my personal mission to ruin your life. Is that clear?”

  Gryphon nodded.

  “Good.” Laden stabbed at his eggs and added, “Then just stay by my side today. Let the Allies see us together. Smile every now and then. Show them they can trust you.”

  They pushed back from the table, and Gryphon followed the Commander out of the tent. As usual, four guards fell in line behind them. Maybe, for Zo’s sake, Gryphon could try not to hate everyone in this camp. Try to smile. Try to pretend like his presence among these people wasn’t its own special kind of torture. They were giving Joshua a home, after all.

  Laden led Gryphon through the camp. Gryphon soon learned the large, narrow valley was divided into different sections, giving the Kodiak, Raven, and Wolves their own areas filled with tents, supplies, ironworkers, tanners, weavers, and more. Laden explained that of all the Allies, nearly eighty percent were Wolves—many of whom had trained with him off and on for several years. The Raven made up fifteen percent now, but that figure would swell greatly once the whole Raven Clan arrived.

  “Why so few Kodiak?” asked Gryphon. “Don’t their caves lie just east of here?” They approached a large practice field bordering the outer rim of the camp where hundreds o
f men, young and old, sparred with wooden practice swords.

  “Chief Murtog’s wife was killed in a Ram raid over a year ago. He has retreated to his Caves. Several Kodiak joined us after they lost their families, but many follow their chief’s example and keep to their homeland, like an animal licking its wounds.

  “Before Zo left for the Gate, I toyed with the idea of sending her to entice the chieftain. I knew his clan needed allies, and I need his warriors for my army. They’re strong, though a bit wild. With the proper training and discipline they might be our greatest weapons against the Ram.”

  “Perhaps Ikatou can convince him,” Gryphon mused.

  “My thoughts exactly. But he’ll need help.” Laden didn’t elaborate, but Gryphon didn’t doubt the leader already had plans for enlisting the Kodiak chieftain.

  A young man jogged through the training fields and met Commander Laden with a quick bow. “I’m sorry, sir. Trouble at your tent. The Kodiak, Ikatou, is demanding to speak with you.”

  Laden rolled his eyes. “There’s no patience in a Bear.” To Gryphon, he added, “Watch them train. Notice the different technique a long sword requires. It is the Wolves’ preferred weapon. The reach is longer, but you must be faster with your hands to get the extra length around. An expert Wolf swordsman can defeat a Ram with a short sword because of the superior weapon, but most Wolves are not experts and a long sword does little against a Ram phalanx of shields.”

  “Spears,” said Gryphon, eyeing the men on the practice field. “It’s your only hope of breaking a phalanx.”

  Laden stared at him, blinking back his surprise. He probably hadn’t expected Gryphon to offer such information … and Gryphon hadn’t planned to be so forthcoming.

  “We have plenty of spears. What we don’t have are enough leaders who know how to fight with them against the Ram.”

  “Sir,” said the young messenger. “The Kodiak?”

  Laden growled. “Take a look around, Gryphon. I’ll see you in my tent for dinner this evening to discuss your first assignment.”

  Gryphon stared after Commander Laden as he stormed away with the messenger and the four guards who’d been following them. They must have been Laden’s private guard.

  Hadn’t Laden only last night vowed that he didn’t trust him to walk the camp alone? He must have forgotten to have his guard remain behind.

  Gryphon wasn’t about to remind him of his rather careless mistake.

  He let his gaze settle over the training field. Multiple sparring matches were taking place in the open area. Tall grass lay matted from the traffic of boots, providing a soft cushion under Gryphon’s feet as he meandered along the perimeter.

  He considered leaving the field to find Zo or Joshua, but found himself caught up in the clank of wooden swords and the buzz of training. He missed his old workout regimen—the burn of muscle and the thrill of exertion, the mental battle of pushing himself just a little beyond what he’d previously thought possible. Standing on this training field was the closest he’d been to feeling at home since leaving the Ram.

  There was so much he didn’t understand about the world. But he knew war. He knew this.

  The few Kodiak present were difficult to miss, not only due to their sheer size, but also because of their poor handling of the blade. Ravens too struggled with the weapon. While their movements were stiff and fast, the Kodiak put too much force behind each jab and thrust of the sword. Around them, Wolves carried out complicated movements with true technique. For some Wolf warriors, the sword was an extension of their arm, just like a claw to a beast. They made the work appear effortless.

  Gryphon let his mind wander as he moved closer to observe a more advanced pair of fighters. Breakfast in Commander Laden’s tent. Now dinner?

  Did Laden intend to have him at his side through every meal? It seemed strange that the Commander of such an enormous alliance would bother devoting so much time to Gryphon. Did he show Gryphon favor out of respect for Zo? More likely, he distrusted having a Ram in his camp and wanted to keep a close watch on him.

  It wasn’t fair to judge Laden after watching his forces train for an afternoon, but Gryphon couldn’t understand why Laden had them all training with swords when he could be playing to the strengths of each clan. If he were plotting to overthrow the Ram, he would use the Raven’s bow and the Kodiak’s strength as well as the Wolf’s agility against his people. More than anything else, they would need to learn how to break down the phalanx. That could only be done by sheer force.

  “You’re a brave man.”

  Gryphon startled and turned around to find three Wolf soldiers about his age flanked by four others. They each carried a wooden practice sword in their hands and a menacing grin on their lips.

  “The Commander should have slit your throat the minute you entered Camp,” said the taller Wolf in the center of the pack.

  Fighting around the practice field diminished and a reluctant crowd gathered. Something in the air shifted. The same something that always stirred and swelled inside Gryphon’s stomach every time he sensed an enemy near.

  He eyed the men forming a loose circle around him and scowled. If a fight broke out, no one would win. He was careful to keep his stance casual, his expression neutral.

  “What? Not going to defend yourself, little lamb?” The tall Wolf reached out and struck Gryphon across the cheek with the back of his hand. The force of the blow made his head snap to the side. Young men around the circle hissed and jeered. A few clapped each other on the shoulders, clearly enjoying the chance to see a Ram whipped. Blood pooled inside Gryphon’s mouth, but he didn’t bother so much as balling a fist.

  Pushing old hatred aside, Gryphon tried to calm his rage by imagining the humiliation many of these Wolves must have felt at the hand of the Ram. He’d give them this small win for Zo’s and Joshua’s sakes. He had nothing to prove.

  The Wolf stepped even closer to Gryphon, his stance too open and his fists too low to properly protect his face. Gryphon fought the urge to roll his eyes at the untrained fool. How easy it would have been to knock the man on his rear and bloody him in the process.

  The Wolf’s fist reared back to strike him again. Gryphon saw the attack coming long before he swung. The feet and hips always betray the fist. He’d learned to anticipate such attacks during his daily hand-to-hand trainings with Ajax. Rather than take another blow to the face, Gryphon ducked out of the way—a subtle move that required him only to lean a few inches to the side while keeping his feet planted.

  A few of the men in the circle laughed as the miss sent the Wolf off balance.

  “I will not fight you,” said Gryphon. This ignorant Wolf would not force him to lose his composure. During his short stay with the Allies, he’d gain nothing from creating more enemies.

  “Suit yourself.” The Wolf took one step back and then charged Gryphon, wrapping his arms about his middle and propelling himself forward with all the aggression of a bull. Instinct won out and Gryphon, in one swift twist, launched his attacker into the arms of the men around the circle, knocking several off their feet.

  Gryphon stood panting, looking around for another challenger.

  “Take him out,” someone called, and a flood of men charged at once. Gryphon threw the first two down but was tackled from behind by a third and landed with the weight of several others on top of him. He laced his fingers behind his head, using his arms to protect his face. Fists landed against his stomach and ribs. He retreated into that mental place he knew so well as a child when he was given his yearly beatings. A place where pain and anger couldn’t reach him. Yet with every fist that connected with his body another layer of self-control crumbled. Old hatred, the kind ingrained in him from birth, roared to life, vicious in its demand for vengeance.

  “Stop!” someone’s muted call joined the chorus of shouting. But the fists didn’t stop flying and the animal inside Gryphon clawed at his resolve not to fight back.

  But a man
could only take so much.

  “Enough!” Gryphon bellowed. He kneed the man closest to him in the head, and bent an arm behind another man’s back until a satisfying pop sounded along with the man’s cries. Somehow, Gryphon gained his feet and cried out, enraged as he attacked every bit of flesh within reach with savage brutality.

  Someone brandished a knife, and Gryphon turned and swept his legs out from under him, stomping on the man’s wrist until he dropped the blade.

  Large arms clamped down around Gryphon’s torso, pinning his own to his sides before he could reach for the knife. He elbowed the man holding him in the stomach and turned to break his nose when he recognized the familiar face of Stone, the leader of the Nameless rebellion.

  Other soldiers were there as well, pulling the Wolves away and helping the few wounded to their feet.

  Gryphon had been so enraged with battle fever he hadn’t noticed the fighting stop around him. His chest pumped in double-time as he surveyed the damage. Already one of his eyes was swelling shut and his bloodied hand braced an aching rib at his side.

  One of Laden’s lieutenants shouted orders that sounded muffled to Gryphon’s ears.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Stone said, clapping him irreverently on a tender shoulder. “The last thing these men need is another reason to hate you.”

  “Good to see you, too,” said Gryphon. “How’s Eva?” Losing his balance, he dropped to one knee as the adrenalin drained from his body.

  He heard the wind of a sword arcing through the air before the back of his head exploded with fresh pain. A numbing cold rushed from the point of impact as he fell to the ground, and darkness invaded his vision.

  Chapter Seven

  Zo sat with Ikatou and Commander Laden in the meeting tent. She winced as the Kodiak shouted his frustration.

  “We cannot wait any longer. My children are behind that wall. My wife! My little girls!” He snatched Zo’s hand up from the table and waved it in Commander Laden’s face. The pressure of his grip made Zo wince, but she hung her head and allowed him to play puppet master. “I’ve been promised help. If you will not help me, I will take the blood owed me by oath!”