Huge Ajax's Arc

Chapter 180 of 619

At dawn Ajax walked the shelf with Grayson and counted what was left. The west wall stood chest-high. The gatehouse was capped. Only the south run between the barracks and the cliff still lay open, a gap two men wide where the stone had not yet closed. "One day if we push," Grayson said. "Two if we don't." "One," Ajax said. He put every hand on the south run. Bran carried the heavy blocks alone. Chalam cut and squared with his staff, sweat on his chest, dust on his robe. Tucker ran mortar buckets from the pit and kept the port masons moving with quiet jokes. Asher held the plumb line at the corner and called the courses straight. Marco worked at the gate, reading each face that came in with water or bread, waving them through when they were clean. By midmorning the south run stood waist-high. Ajax stripped to the loincloth and lifted with Bran. The oil on his shoulders held. The stones came up easier than they should have. He set two blocks himself, wiped his palm on his thigh, and moved to the next. Elara brought water at noon. She looked at the gap and then at Ajax. "You'll close it before dark," she said. "Yes." "Save a course for me at the last. I want my hand on it too." He nodded. The afternoon went hot. Cody's men held one end. Bran and the port masons held the other. Chalam cut faster than any smith could dress stone, and Tucker kept the mortar wet. Ajax did not sit. He moved down the line, set his shoulder where a block hung, called the next lift, and kept the pace at what a man could just barely hold. At dusk one course remained. Two blocks. Ajax set the first with Bran. Elara stepped up for the second. She laid her palm on the stone, then helped him seat it in the bed. Mortar squeezed at the joint. Chalam struck it plumb with the flat of his staff. The wall closed. The crew stood back. No one spoke. The shelf was ringed now, cliff to cliff, gate to sea. Inside stood barracks, kitchen, well house, and the vault under the stones. Ajax walked the full line once, hand trailing the top course, and stopped at the gatehouse. "It's done," he said. Grayson looked at him. "Tucker's oath was until the walls." Ajax turned. Tucker stood by the mortar pit, chest streaked with dust, one gold chain black with it. He met Ajax's eyes and did not look away. "Tomorrow we talk," Ajax said. "Tonight we eat inside our own wall." Tucker nodded once. He wiped his hands on a rag and walked toward the kitchen. Ajax watched him go and knew the next fight would be to keep him.