Huge Ajax's Arc

Chapter 258 of 619

Tucker's cart rolled through the gate at dusk. Rowan and Asher hauled the wool and oil into the storehouse while Ajax counted the fleece by lamplight. The spinning wheel came off last, wrapped in hide. The house would hold through winter. But another matter waited. The last mark on the old woman's map still sat unclaimed, a treasure site up the coast. Ajax meant to ride for it at dawn. He found the dryad in his quarters after the meal. She had come to carve the wood, as her kind did to bind the furniture to the grove. She worked with her back to him, her bark-skinned hands moving a small blade along the bed frame. A dress of broad green leaves hung from her shoulders. Vines wrapped her wrists and ankles. A bundle of pale flowers rested on the floor beside her feet. "You leave in the morning," she said. She did not turn. "For the northern coast." Ajax stopped. "Rowan tell you that?" "The trees told me." She set the blade down and faced him. Her eyes were the green of new leaves. She lifted the flower bundle and held it out. My gift, for the sanctuary you swore my kin. Chalam can use this.” He took the flowers. They were light and cool in his hand. "Why help me at all?" "Because you close doors that others left open." She picked up her blade again and returned to the frame. Ajax carried the flowers to the hall and found Chalam by the fire. He set them on the table. "We ride at first light," Ajax said. "You, Rowan, Marco, and me. Grayson holds the gate." He woke his men before the sun. The cart was empty, the wool stored, the wheel set aside for spring. Rowan strung his bow. Marco mounted last. Ajax pulled his father's blade and rode through the gate. The supply run was done. Black Oak would eat longer than winter. Behind him lay a full house and a sworn brotherhood. Ahead lay the last mark on the map.