Clanless (11 page)

There were no chairs inside the circle of the Gaagii Court. No podium or stand for the Raven Chief, just the wooden wall surrounding them and bare ground. Elderly men stood in a loose circle, the chief among them. They wore black paint on their faces in the shape of a bird whose wings were outstretched to act as a mask across their eyes. Like the chief, they wore necklaces of feathers, marking their prestige within the clan.

But it was the stone they each carried that captured most of Gryphon’s attention. Sani joined the circle and clasped his thin arms behind his back, calm as a spring morning.

“We have heard the words of the Wolf and believe that the Ram are marching toward us. Scouts have returned confirming the number of men you warned would come,” said the chief, in his oddly accented way.

Gryphon blinked then looked up at the sun. Was it really almost dusk? How many hours had he been tied to that platform? It had only felt like minutes. What else had Sani been burning and how had he not accounted for the passage of so much lost time?

“We have questions for you, Ram. Questions only one of your kind can answer.”

Gryphon nodded for the chief to continue.

“Your people have hunted us for the location of our grain stores. If we told your chief where to find them, would they continue their attack?”

Gryphon closed his eyes, filling his lungs with the smoke that still clung to his clothing. “My people have hunted for the location of your clan for years. Yes, Barnabas is in desperate need for a replenishment to Ram food stores, but he also wants to rid you from the land. He will keep some of your people as Nameless, but those he sees as a threat, and those who wouldn’t be able to work would be considered a burden. Another mouth to feed.” Gryphon swallowed. He couldn’t bring himself to go into more detail. “Your only option is to flee this place. Abandon your homes and take to the ocean where the Ram don’t have resources to follow.”

Several men in the circle turned a few shades whiter. Others flared their nostrils, flexing their hands around the stone they carried. All looked to their chief for response.

“We are tied to our land, Sheep. It is the source of all our power. We have been here since long before the Ram, the Wolf, and the cave-dwelling Kodiak entered the region. Fleeing for us means surrendering everything that defines our people. Many of us would sooner die fighting with honor than prolong a struggle that would lead to the same end. What you suggest simply isn’t possible.”

A Raven Elder with dark gray hair and a face weighed down by the lines of time dropped his stone to the ground, gaining him the surprised attention of the group. His eyes were clouded with a milky white film. He spoke in a strange language and pointed vehemently at Gryphon. He then turned his sharp gesture on the rest of the men in the circle as he spoke.

Gryphon and Gabe exchanged confused looks then went back to watching the weathered man finish his heated rant. When he finally stopped speaking, the chief, who’d been shifting his feet in the dirt the entire time, bowed his head to the old man and dropped his stone to the dirt as well. Everyone else in the circle followed his example.

The chief turned to Gryphon and frowned. “There is to be a
Hai
, or test. If you pass, our shaman says it is a sign that our people should follow your council and leave tomorrow morning.”

Gryphon didn’t like the sound of that. “And if I don’t pass this test?”

The chief ran his hand along one of the feathers adorning his neck. “Then you will be the first Ram sacrificed in defense of our homeland.”

“Why did those Elders carry the rocks?” Gryphon asked Gabe as they rested in a little tent, awaiting Gryphon’s mysterious test.

Gabe lifted and dropped his shoulders without saying a word. “You don’t want to know.”

“Try me.”

Gabe rolled onto his side to look at Gryphon. “Just an old tradition. Raven Elders always carry stones into a trial in case the person on trial is found guilty. Stoning allows for more people to exact justice.”

“You’re joking.” Gryphon whipped his head back in the direction of the Gaagii Court, as if he could actually see it through the fabric of the tent.

“Don’t act so surprised. Your people are twice as brutal.” He lifted his hands to show his missing pinkie fingers. “Or have you forgotten?”

The Wolf had a point, but he still couldn’t believe he willingly walked right into a possible stoning. “About this test … what exactly happens in a
Hai
?”

Gabe’s voice grew quiet. “I’ve never witnessed one before, but … ” he turned away from Gryphon to straighten his pack. “Whatever it is, it will not be easy. You heard the chief. Many of these people would rather die than leave. They’re betting—hoping, really—that you won’t be able to beat the obstacle they set before you.”

Gryphon wasn’t immortal, but if this was to be a physical test, he couldn’t help but be encouraged. His whole life up until this point had been training. He was strong, fast, and agile. Whatever his other failings, his body was sound. If it was possible to survive the
Hai
, he would find a way. Not just to save these people from the Ram, but for Joshua and, in a small way, for Zo as well.

Sani pulled back the tent flap. Ash was smeared along his cheeks and forehead making him appear ghostly; his expression level as ever. “It is almost time, Ram.” He looked down at the small vacant space just inside the tent. “May I sit with you?”

Gryphon gestured for the boy to sit and Sani let the buckskin flap of the tent door fall closed behind him. “Hold out your arm.” Sani untied a beaded leather bracelet from his wrist. Polished stone beads of vibrant shades of green and blue rattled together as Sani fastened the bracelet to Gryphon’s wrist.

“Why?” asked Gryphon as he fingered the cold stones.

“Protection. As your ‘
Attin
, it is the most help I can offer you in the
Hai
.”

They sat in silence together. Gryphon assumed Gabe and Sani didn’t know what to say to a man they assumed was about to walk to his death. Still running his fingers over the bracelet, Gryphon asked Sani, “What language was that Elder speaking during my judgment? I’ve heard tales of clans outside of our region speaking in strange tongues, but always thought the local clans spoke only the language of the Ram.”

Both Sani and Gabe snickered at that. “What?” Gryphon asked. “Why is that funny?”

Gabe clapped Gryphon on the shoulder. “Do you honestly believe we all speak the language of the Ram?”

Gryphon did. It’s what he’d been taught since childhood.

Sani said, “My people were the first to inhabit this region. We were born out of the trees and soil, the water and wind. We cared for the earth and the earth cared for us. We called ourselves the Raven because legend says the First Chief spoke to the wise Raven and the Raven called him brother.”

Gryphon glanced over to Gabe, wondering if he actually believed the crazy story. He’d never heard of any such history and always been told the Raven, like the other clans, had moved into the Ram region, pilfering its resources and robbing the Ram of the clan’s livelihood—even taking and mutilating the Ram language.

“What you heard in the judgment was the language of our first fathers,” said Sani. “The language of land and sky … of the Raven. It is the language of our holy text and the root of the language we speak today.”

“Are you claiming the Raven were the first to dwell in this region?”

Gabe winkled his brow. “How can you not know that? Do the Ram not have stories of the migration? Where do you think the clans got their animal names?”

Gryphon had never considered the fact that all the clans carried the name of an animal. He’d always assumed the Ram had taken on the name as a symbol of power. He’d felt pride in the name.

“As wandering clans pushed into the region, my people welcomed them so long as they were peaceful,” said Sani. “The clan that settled in the south was the most social, and began the tradition of trading and working together to protect the region. Because of them, the three clans came together once a year.”

“The meeting was called an
Ostara.
All of the houses of the Wolves still hold the meetings and Kodiak and Raven still attend when they can,” said Gabe.

Sani nodded. “My people named the clan after the beasts who hunted and lived in packs. Wolves. Another clan settled in the Eastern part of the region. They were large in stature and preferred stone to tree and kept to themselves like the mighty Kodiak who kept to the Kodiak Hills.”

“And the Ram? You mentioned three clans, but there are four. Do you believe my people were the last to arrive to the region?” asked Gryphon.

Sani shook his head.

“Actually,” said Gabe. “Your people came at the same time as mine. The stories say we used to be one clan. Two brothers whose families had families, and so on.”

“Impossible.”

“It’s true,” said Sani.

“We were large and spread out like the Wolf packs of today. Your forefather and mine, brothers, had a disagreement that blossomed into a feud that eventually divided our one clan into two.”

Sani said, “You pushed your way north, deeper into Raven territory, but by then your numbers were large and my people did not have the means to stop you without war. You were named after the mighty Ram for that reason. We were a peaceful people, and eventually conceded to give you the land where Ram’s Gate sits today. For many years the region lived in peace. But hatred festered among your people. The Ram were hungry for war, desperate for revenge. They built and trained a might army and secreted slaves from the other clans. The massive wall of Ram’s Gate wasn’t built until after the first raids.”

Gabe shook his head. “By then the Ram were too strong to be stopped,” finished Gabe.

Gryphon thought back to his time in Chief Barnabas’s house. The scrolls which carried the histories of old. The Historian who had scoffed at his inability to read. She’d called him ignorant, even though most of the Ram couldn’t read—it was considered a fluffy gift with no benefit. A waste of time that could be spent training.

Had Barnabas and the chiefs before him intentionally kept the people ignorant? The thought made him dizzy … and angry.

The tent flap opened and a stout Raven with gray ash smeared along his face, similar to Sani’s, said, “It is time.”

But before Sani and the elders could lead Gryphon away, Gabe grasped his shoulder. “You’re a good man. Zo would be proud.”

Gryphon’s throat tightened.

“There’s something I should say.” Gabe shook his head, as if struggling with some unseen demon. “I never told you … Thank you for sparing my life in the Gate. Thank you for helping Zo and Tess.” Sorrow and something else crossed his face. Guilt?

“This was my decision, Wolf. I promised Zo I’d come. I have no regrets.”

The lines around Gabe’s mouth deepened. “I didn’t deserve your mercy,” he whispered.

Sani pulled back the tent flap before Gryphon could respond. “We must hurry. The ritual must begin right when the last light of day departs from the sky.”

Gryphon ducked out of the tent, wishing he’d had a chance to ask Gabe what he meant. With head high and fists clenched, he prepared himself as he might if he were about to engage an enemy. Through his training with the Ram, he’d learned how to retreat within himself to the point where he almost couldn’t feel pain. Whatever the Raven had for him, he’d survive. It was the Ram way.

The procession of elders and Gryphon, with Sani bringing up the rear, walked along a dirt path lined with Raven burning torches to ward off the encroaching night. Old, young, male, female—all gathered to watch Gryphon take the walk that would determine their fate.

They stopped at the base of a large tree. The elders stepped aside to reveal a ladder that spiraled from the ground up into the canopy. This ladder was different from the one Gryphon encountered on the journey here. There was a handrail, and instead of knobs for steps, broad wooden planks made for a comfortable ascent. In the low light, Gryphon craned his head to see a small, enclosed house near the top of the tree.

“I’m to take you up,” said Sani, accepting a torch from a neighboring guard. Sani bowed to his chieftain father, taking to the stairs in front of Gryphon.

“How old are you, Sani?” Gryphon asked as they climbed. The boy looked ten but acted twenty.

“I am thirteen,” said Sani.

The same age as Joshua, but the boys couldn’t be more different. Joshua was tall and awkward, still growing into his newly acquired height. Sani was short and lean. Joshua was loud and often clumsy, while Sani was quiet and precise in his actions—graceful, even.

Tree sap from the railing stuck to Gryphon’s hand. The smell was powerful and somehow relaxing. They climbed for several minutes until the stairs stopped at the base of the tree hut. Sani tugged on a rope, bringing down another staircase that led into the aerial room.

Gryphon pulled himself into the circular space, and searched the area for a potential threat. What he found were five totems carved into the shapes of various birds, all staring into the center of the room. All terrifying. A chill rolled up his arms and legs, coalescing up his spine in one giant wave.