Huge Ajax's Arc

Chapter 154 of 619

Ajax woke before the coals died. He pulled on his fur and stepped out under a gray sky. The gate stood shut. The road below the shelf lay empty. He walked the wall once and checked each arrow slit himself. The bowman came up the road at first light. He rode a short horse and led a pack mule loaded with three bows in oiled wrap and two large bundles of arrows. Cody met him at the gate and called up. Ajax came down and named the bowman through the ward himself, palm on the iron, so the man could cross without burning. The bowman swung down and set the mule's lead in Ajax's hand. He was thin, older, hands scarred at the knuckles. He pulled the wrap off the first bow and held it out flat across both palms. "Yew," he said. "Two of these, one shorter for close work. Forty broadheads, twenty bodkins. Strings waxed. Spares in the roll." Ajax took the bow. It was heavier than it looked. Marco stood at his shoulder without being called. His gold chain caught the early light. He watched the bowman drink from the offered cup and did not blink. "He's clean," Marco said, low. "Thinks about his daughter. Thinks about the coin. Nothing about any trouble. Nothing about the woman." Ajax nodded once. He counted out silver into the bowman's hand and added two coins on top. "Ride south before noon. Don't stop in the port." "I won't," the bowman said. He mounted, took his mule's lead back, and rode. Ajax carried the bows up to the north wall himself. Asher was already at the top slit, sleeves rolled, chest hair showing at the open collar. He took the short bow and drew it once, easy, and let the string down slow. "Good pull," Asher said. "I can hold this line." "You have the middle slit," Ajax said. "Bran takes the north. Grayson takes the south." "Done." Ajax laid the third bow across the stone for Bran and set the arrows in two bundles beneath the slits. He stood a moment and looked out over the road. Elara was already in the cliff blind. Chalam stood by the vault door with his staff. Tucker was at the killing lane inside the gate with a fresh whetstone. Marco climbed up beside him. "She'll be on the road by afternoon. I can feel the shape of it already. Someone moving toward us who does not think like the others." "How far?" "Half a day. Maybe less." Ajax set his hand on the top of the wall. The stone was cold. Every piece was in place. The bows. The ward. The lane. His seven men. "Then we wait," he said. "And when she comes through that gate, she burns."