Nameless (23 page)

Zo accepted the baby again from his mother and instantly started humming a soothing lullaby as she used her finger to rub the infant’s upper lip. The baby, still fast asleep, opened his mouth to suck. Zo slipped her finger in the child’s mouth and felt for a break in the roof of the mouth.

She smiled relief when her fingers met a firm upper palate. The baby would be fine.

“Sometimes when babies are growing in the womb the lip doesn’t come together and form properly. When that happens there is often a hole in the roof of the mouth that makes it difficult for the child to eat and drink.”

Sara’s eyes grew wide.

Zo put a reassuring hand out to the new mother but flinched at her own boldness. She cleared her throat. “Your son doesn’t have that problem. I’ve seen a procedure to correct the lip. He’s going to be just fine.”

Sara gripped her arm. “Can you fix his lip?”

The baby stirred and Zo gently rocked him. “I can try. But the surgery is too dangerous for a newborn. You’ll have to wait until he’s at least a few months old.”

“A few months?” Sara looked up to Ajax, wild fear making her eyes double in size. “Oh no, Ajax. No.” She burst into tears. The strong warrior dropped to his knees and rested his head in his wife’s lap. They wept together openly.

Zo looked up into Gryphon’s stricken face. “I don’t understand,” she said. “The boy will be fine.”

Gryphon walked over to Ajax and rested a hand on his shoulder. “You’re sure no one knows she delivered?”

Ajax pushed the moisture from his face. “Positive. My Nameless were in the fields. When I saw his misshapen lip, I didn’t dare send for a healer from the Medica.”

“Then there is still hope for the child, as long as the Seer isn’t suspicious and we make a good show of the burial.”

“But what will happen when he’s well? I can’t present a two year old to the Horn and claim him as my legitimate son. Without passing the birth rituals he cannot be a part of our clan.”

Zo handed the baby back to his mother. She stood but kept one hand on the bed frame for support. She shouldn’t draw attention to herself, but she had to make sense of the madness. “The child is healthy. Why would he not pass your rituals?”

“Because he is not perfect.” Gryphon’s clipped tone left no room for argument.

“What will they do to him?”

Gryphon took hold of her arm and led her from the room. He paused at the door and looked back to Sara and Ajax. “Don’t let anyone know she’s delivered, Jax. We’ll find a way to make this work. Nothing will happen to your son.”

“Thank you, brother.” But Ajax didn’t sound reassured.

“I’ll think of something,” said Gryphon.

Once they were outside, Zo yanked her arm from Gryphon’s grasp. “What will the Ram do to that baby, Gryphon?” It sounded like a threat, even to her own ears.

Gryphon helped her down the trail, traveling at a slow pace for her sake. “There is a reason the Ram are known for their warriors, Zo.”

She waved away his words. “Yeah, because you train your children like animals and have no regard for anything that doesn’t involve bloodshed.”

She covered her mouth with both hands. Gryphon had been tolerant, but she’d finally crossed the line. He raised his hand and Zo closed her eyes and flinched, ready for the beating she knew was coming.

Nothing happened.

She opened her eyes to find Gryphon holding back the branch of a tree she hadn’t noticed before. His lips were screwed into a knot and heavy lines streaked his brow. She stepped away but her foot caught on something in the darkness and she fell with a near silent cry to the ground. Several scabs on her back ripped open in the process.

Gryphon bent to help her up. “I have no intention of hurting you, Zo. You should know that by now.”

Zo’s shirt was damp with blood from her back. Gryphon must have noticed because he wiped his hand on his pants. “I guess I can’t blame you for being afraid of me.”

“What will happen to the baby?” she persisted.

Gryphon sighed. “If a newborn doesn’t pass inspection, it is taken outside the Gate. The Ram don’t kill the child, but they also can’t protect or care for it either. Only the healthy earn the right to citizenship in the Gate.” His jaw flexed in the torchlight, his eyes pinched and he looked away from her.

“Who takes care of the infant outside of the Gate? Is it left to the Nameless?” Zo could sense his answer, but it was too horrible to be true. Not even the Ram would banish an infant. Would they?

His silence confirmed her fears. “Gryphon, we can’t let that baby die!”

“I know!” he shouted, and she cowered away from him again out of humiliating instinct. “I’ll think of something.” His Adam’s apple jumped up and down as he swallowed.

Zo didn’t sleep the rest of the night. Up until now, she had felt the distance between her and Tess—though painfully difficult—was something of a protection to her sister.

After tonight that sense of safety was stripped from her. Zo couldn’t handle another night wondering about Tess. Not after learning that her sister’s innocence would not save her any more than it would that newborn. There was only one clear course of action …

Zo had to smuggle Tess away from the Nameless’ barracks and find some way to leave the Gate before anything happened to her, even if it meant forsaking the Cause.

Before the sun rose in the morning, with almost no sleep, and his leg still healing from his wounds from the Wolf, Gryphon hurried to find the Historian. He didn’t know exactly what he planned to say, he only hoped his instinct about her was right.

Would she help Sara and Ajax and their new baby? It was a big risk, but what other option did he have?

He rehearsed his excuse for visiting with Barnabas’ grandmother over and over again. No doubt the guards would find his request even more baffling than when he came to meet with Barnabas himself. Just as he made the final turn down the road that led to the chief’s home he stopped dead at the sight of the old woman sitting with her thin legs crossed on the ground. In her hands she held a small pouch of, what appeared to be, dark sand. She scooped up a handful of the interesting powder and let it fall back into the bag in thin streams between her knobby fingers.

“There you are.” She didn’t look at all surprised to see him, as if she’d been waiting there all night.

Gryphon pulled off his heavy cloak and flung it around the Historian’s shoulders. “You must be freezing.” She swatted away his concern as he helped her stand. The cloak dragged at least a foot on the ground.

“Well, it took you long enough.” She looked over Gryphon’s shoulder and smiled. “Come on out, young warrior. You are welcome to join us.”

Gryphon whipped around to find a sheepish Joshua with bright cheeks step out from behind a nearby tree. The tip of his nose matched the flame of his red hair

“I’m sorry, Gryph. I just want to know what’s going on.”

The Historian hushed the boy and took his arm. “He doesn’t mind,” she answered for Gryphon.

“How did you know I was coming?” Gryphon still couldn’t grasp the absurdity of the situation.

The old woman’s eyes sparkled and she winked at Joshua, patting the top of his hand. “Call it a hunch.”

The Historian led them silently through the town, past the platform in the square and through the maze of buildings until they reached a little, rundown shed at the edge of the forest.

“You leave for an excursion tomorrow.” She unlocked the door with withered hands.

Gryphon didn’t bother asking her how she knew about the secret excursion downstream to take out the Allied Camp. The old woman, with hair so white it almost glowed, seemed to know everything that happened inside the Gate. Not unlike the current Seer.

“Does your Nameless healer know you’ve uncovered her secret?”

Gryphon blanched. “How did you know about Zo and the bottles?” Gryphon’s ears burned at his use of Zo’s name. Joshua beamed.

“I’ve mastered harvesting information for most of my life, Striker.” She looked down at the little bag in her hands. “Among other things.” The lock of the door finally turned. “I might be old, but I still know what happens inside the Gate.”

Gryphon felt completely naked with his treason exposed. “I know I should have reported her right away, but it didn’t seem …
right.”

“You have no need to fear me, son of Troy. I have kept your secret, and will continue to do so.” The Historian led him into the damp shed and lit a well-used candle on a worktable covered with odd glass instruments, scales, and bottles of strange liquids and powders. A sour smell burned the inside of Gryphon’s nose.

“You have not sought me out to discuss the healer.” She left her statement open to let Gryphon explain himself.

Gryphon paused to organize the mountain of questions rushing through his head. How did she know about the Wolf in his barn? Why hadn’t she turned him in for treason? Who was that Nameless in the woods at Eva’s engagement ceremony? And most of all, how could he help save Ajax’s son?

For some reason, he never considered that she might turn his information about the new baby over to the Seer. He supposed he trusted her. But what if he was wrong?

“I know someone.” He paused, unsure of how to proceed.

“Congratulations.” The corner of her mouth rose as she measured out a small amount of liquid into a vial the size of Gryphon’s pinkie finger.

Joshua laughed, but one look from Gryphon silenced him.

“Well, you see. I need to help them with … The nature of the situation is … ”

The Historian held up a hand. “May I tell you a story?”

Gryphon swallowed his angst and nodded.

“Generations ago, there was a mighty swordsman who loved a woman very much. When he approached her kingly father to ask for her hand in marriage, the wise king asked a simple question, ‘How much do you love her?’

The man proceeded to express his feelings, comparing his love to mountains and great waters, treasures, and sky. The king listened intently and when the young man finished he was breathless from his oaths and speeches.

“The king had seen a great deal of the world. Had lived long enough to see past a man’s infatuation to his heart. Atop his golden throne, the king nodded. ‘Words are the trick of men. If you love her like you say, you will prove your words in a quest.’”

Gryphon cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, I think you might misunderstand my intentions, Historian. I am not in love.”

The old woman stopped her stirring and gave him a look that made the great Striker blanch.

Gryphon bowed his head. “Sorry, please continue.”

The Historian took a rattling breath and closed her eyes to continue. “The king first instructed the young man to sell everything he owned: his house, his land, his animals, everything but the clothes on his back and the boots on his feet. The young man, determined to win his love, obeyed. When he returned to the king, the king was pleased. ‘Now,’ the king replied, ‘you must find a crucible and fill it to the brim with your tears. When that is done, you must travel until the land meets the sea and back without spilling a drop.’

The young man grew angry at the impossible request, but left, determined to have his bride at any cost.”

Gryphon shifted the weight in his legs. How was this foolish story meant to help him with his own problems?

The Historian continued. “He filled his cup to the brim with his own tears of frustration and longing then set out on his journey over the difficult terrain and violent weather of the season, all without losing a single drop. When he returned to the king, his muscles ached and his hand shook as if the cup carried a great weight. The king examined the cup then drank the man’s tears.”

“Disgusting!” said Joshua.

“But the king wasn’t quite satisfied. ‘You have done well, but if you love my daughter you will perform one final task.’

The young swordsman’s head hung low, but he raised it enough to meet the king’s gaze. ‘I have sold everything I own. I have taken an impossible journey. What more can you ask of me?’”

Gryphon found himself nodding his head in agreement. He couldn’t imagine ever loving someone enough to go through so much trouble.

“The king motioned for one of his men to bring a heavy jeweled blade. ‘Step forward.’ The king set the tip of the blade on a wooden chopping block. ‘Put out your right arm.’

The young man eyed the blade with fear, but only after a moment’s hesitation, obeyed. His right arm was his best fighting arm, possibly his greatest physical possession. He closed his eyes, and tried to picture the woman he loved in his mind, repeating her name over and over again.

The king raised the sword, it sliced through the air and … ” The Historian stopped and yawned. “The rest of the story doesn’t matter.”

“What happened?” Gryphon and Joshua spoke at the same time.

The woman shook her head and sighed. “I have information that can save your friend’s baby, Striker. The question is, what are you willing to sacrifice to keep those around you safe?”

Gryphon immediately thought of the shield hanging in his family home. His desire to restore his family’s honor. For so long it had been the most important thing in his life. The aspiration that eclipsed any other. Could he sacrifice that desire to save his friend?