Huge Ajax's Arc

Chapter 2 of 619

They rode north through open scrub for two days. Ajax kept the pace and the watch. Grayson Ale kept his own counsel and rode a half-length ahead when the trail allowed. On the second morning Ajax said they would water the horses at the creek and push through noon. Grayson swung down at the creek and unrolled his blanket in the shade. "Up," Ajax said. "We ride." "You ride," Grayson said. He tipped his hat over his eyes. "I'll catch you by dark." Ajax stood over him. His hand went to the hatchet at his belt and stopped there. Grayson smiled without opening his eyes. "Hit me and you ride alone," Grayson said. "Leave me and you ride alone. Sit down, chief. The horses need it more than you do." Ajax sat. He ate cold oats and watched a hawk work the ridge. He had wanted six men who called him captain. He had one man who called him chief like it was a joke. By afternoon they came on a peddler's camp beside a burned wagon. A thin man crouched by the ashes. He had a mule and a carved wooden chest bound in brass, script cut deep into every side in a tongue neither of them read. He said bandits had taken his guard and left him the chest because they could not open it. "Two swords passing," Ajax said. "Ride with us to the next town. I'm building a company. Pay and land at the end of it." The peddler looked at Grayson. Grayson was picking a stone from his horse's hoof. "He your captain?" the peddler asked. "He's the one talking," Grayson said. The peddler waited. Grayson said nothing more. The peddler looked back at Ajax and shook his head. He would walk to the next town alone with his mule and his chest. He trusted two men who did not agree on who they were less than he trusted the road. They rode on. Ajax did not speak until the sun was low. "You cost me a man back there." "I cost you nothing. You had nothing." Grayson reined in and faced him. "You want men to follow, stop asking me to prove you lead. I said I ride beside you. I meant it. But every stranger who sees us sees two sellswords. If you want a chief's name, take it in front of the next one. Don't ask me to hand it to you." Ajax held his eyes. Grayson had not knelt. He would not kneel. But he had told Ajax what to do, and it was true. "Next man we meet," Ajax said, "I do the talking. You stand behind my horse." "Behind your horse," Grayson said. "Not behind you." "Behind my horse." Grayson nodded once. They rode. Ajax had not gained a follower. He had gained a rule between them, and a stranger's refusal to weigh against it.