Huge Ajax's Arc

Chapter 102 of 619

The gnome adjusted his glasses. "One ring each, in a day. Seven rings." He tilted his head. "A sack of silver. The full sack on your saddle. We melt what you have, add what we hold, and work through the night." Ajax untied the sack from his saddle and dropped it at the gnome's boots. It landed heavy. The gnome did not bend for it. He whistled once through his teeth and two smaller shapes slipped from the ferns, lifted the sack between them, and were gone before Ajax could count them. "One day," the gnome said. "I bring them here at this hour tomorrow. Rings that hide you from the Keeper's eye, all seven at once. After that you ride north for your last name, then east for the coast. The cart will be waiting at the split pine." He touched the brim of an invisible hat and walked back into the ferns. Chalam folded the bark map into his satchel. "He'll do it. His people don't miss a promise." "Good." Ajax turned to the horses. His boot caught a root and he bent to free the strap on his loincloth where it had twisted at the hip. He worked the leather straight with both hands, back to the line. Behind him, Tucker went still. Ajax heard it before he saw it — the small pause in the shuffle of feet. He glanced over his shoulder. Tucker stood ten paces back with a waterskin half-raised. His eyes were on Ajax's backside. He caught Ajax watching and did not look away. He grinned under his mustache, lifted his free arm, and rolled the muscle in his shoulder. Then he winked at Marco, who stood at the picket line holding two sets of reins. Marco stared at Ajax a beat longer than he should have. He shifted the reins to his other hand. "Something to say, Hoskins?" Ajax straightened. "No, chief." Tucker drank from the skin. "Just admiring the work." Marco huffed a short laugh through his nose and looked at the ground. Ajax stood square to both of them. He remembered the rule he had set at the meadow. Consent in camp. No workings, no games that cost a man his footing on the line. Tucker had not touched anyone. Neither had Marco. But Ajax had felt the shift — the small drop in the crew's attention from the road to him. "Eyes on the trees," Ajax said. "We ride in ten. Chalam takes point. Marco, you're on the freed roads with me. Tucker, rear." Tucker capped the skin. "Rear it is." Marco tightened the girth on his horse without looking up. Ajax mounted. The sack was gone. The rings were coming. Tomorrow at this hour he would have seven men shielded from the Keeper's eye, and one clear day to spend the last name on his list.