Free Nameless by Jennifer Jenkins Page B

promises to look deeper into the threat of a Ram move and to send more information soon.
    Commander Laden had been very clear about the information he needed her to gather. His list was as precise as it was long: the number of battle-ready troops, supplies, weapons, coordinates for a possible Ram excursions. Anything that might help the Cause.
    Zo watched the hope of her people float away, absorbed by the dark water. She was contributing to the alliance. Paying back a small fraction of the pain Ram soldiers had caused her.
    The soft breeze died down, making Zo’s odor hang heavy in the stagnant air. Her stench burned her nostrils as she looked longingly at the clean rushing water. One bath wouldn’t kill her. She’d have Tess double up on her mud paint tomorrow.
    Zo pulled off her woolen shirt and untied the rope holding up her too-large pants. The cold water numbed her bare skin as she stepped deeper and deeper into the mountain river. Her shivers turned violent when the water reached her shoulders. She fought against the current while she scrubbed at her skin, using her blunt nails to rake away the layers of plastered mud and grime.
    Out of habit she softly hummed a washing song to calm her nerves. A song her mother had taught her before her world turned upside-down.
     
     

     
     
    It was well past dark when Gryphon was finally released from the Medica. He walked the mountain trail home with Joshua chatting away under his good arm. Using his hands to tell his training story, the boy bounced up and down.
    “Toban shouldn’t have beaten me in hand-to-hand. I had him in a lock,” Joshua held up his arms to demonstrate, “and was ready to demand ‘yield’ when he elbowed my bad side. Right in the button! Even after Master Cadmos instructed him not to.”
    Gryphon fought a smile. “How long were you down?”
    “Half a minute. Maybe twenty seconds. It doesn’t matter. He didn’t follow the rules.”
    Gryphon stopped and took both of Joshua’s shoulders in his hands. “There are no rules in war, Joshua. A good fighter expects his weaknesses to be exploited and uses that foresight to his own advantage.”
    A faint voice could barely be heard over the river. Gryphon put a shushing finger to his mouth. He stepped off the trail, following the sound.
    “I thought you said we were going to your family home,” said Joshua, trailing behind like a spring duckling. “Your mom made food.”
    Gryphon whipped around in a crouch and placed his fist to the ground. The signal for caution.
    Joshua nodded, a look of anticipation in his eyes. He deftly pulled a dagger from his leg sheath and inched to Gryphon’s side with exaggerated stealth.
    Gryphon sighed inwardly. Joshua’s thirst to prove himself would be the very thing that got him killed someday.
    “You can put the knife away, kid.”
    “What if it’s dangerous?” Joshua whispered.
    Gryphon rolled his eyes and moved toward the water. The whispered singing of a shaky female voice grew louder. It was a sad, intoxicating sort of melody that wrapped its fingers around Gryphon’s heart and squeezed. He inched to the ledge of a small cliff, looking down on the river no more than fifteen feet below.
    The moon turned her skin to milk, casting hard shadows along her curves as she stepped from the river onto the bank. Her hair hung like a midnight veil in an uneven line at the middle of her back.
    Gryphon caught a small glimpse of her profile as she reached for her clothes. He leaned closer to the ledge, hypnotized by the moon’s generosity. This was clearly no Nameless field hand, and Ram women didn’t sing.
    Joshua stumbled forward, snapping a twig in two with his awkwardly large foot. The girl stopped her washing song and glanced up to them, clutching her clothes to her chest.
    “Sorry,” Joshua mouthed.
    Gryphon shook his head and looked back to the girl.
    She studied the trees around them while she dressed. Her body was tense, ready to flee at the first sign of