Huge Ajax's Arc

Chapter 272 of 619

Ajax shut the door behind them. Tarron stood in the middle of the room, tunic in his hand, chest still bare from the fire. The old man was gray and thin, but the years of shepherding had left cords of muscle in his arms. He had come to Black Oak days ago to build a loom and manage the wool. He answered to the craft, not the wall. But he wore no chain like the sworn men. "You keep the flock," Ajax said. "You feed us cloth and fish. That's worth as much as a blade here." Tarron nodded once. "Then let me work. That's all I want." Ajax went to the chest by the wall and lifted out a flat gold chain. It caught the low light. He had marked every man with one. Grayson, Tucker, Marco, all of them. A man without it stood outside the house, and Ajax would not let this one stand outside. "Come here," Ajax said. Tarron did not move at first. His eyes went from the chain to Ajax's face. "It’s beautiful," he said. "For me?" "It will suit you well" Ajax stepped close. He lifted the chain over the old man's head and set it flat against the hair of his chest. "This says you're one of us. It says the house holds and protects you." Their eyes met. Tarron's breath trembled. He stood still, the way he had at the fire, letting the moment do the explaining. Ajax felt the weight of it, the same as with Kael, with Torren, with all the men he had bound. He laid a steady hand on the old man's shoulder. Tarron gave a quiet laugh and bowed his head. "Wow. Settled, then." "Settled." Ajax picked up a lamp and opened the inner door. "Your room. End of the barracks, close to the loom and the flock. You won't cross the yard in the cold." Tarron looked into the small stone room. A bed, a shelf, a narrow window facing the pens. He stepped inside and set his hand on the wall like a man testing fleece for hunger. "Good stone," he said. "Bran cut it. Wait until you see him." Ajax chuckled and set the lamp on the shelf. "Sleep. The loom waits for you at first light." Tarron sat on the edge of the bed. The chain hung against his chest, marking him now the same as any sworn man. Black Oak had men bound to the wall and one bound to the craft who would learn to use a bow. Ajax had built a house that fed itself, armed itself, and now clothed itself. Come spring, his goods would ride to the port, and his brotherhood would need no more raids to live.