Huge Ajax's Arc

Chapter 288 of 619

The hall emptied after the marking. Ajax pulled his boot back on. He meant to check the wall before noon. Then Tarron stepped in from the yard and stood by the door. Tarron was the woolwright, the last man sworn to the house. He kept the flock and the loom, not the wall. He was tall and thin, gray-haired, and he never wasted a word. Ajax had marked his foot with the rest an hour ago. Now Tarron waited until the others were gone. "You kissed six," Tarron said. "Not me." Ajax set down his father's blade. He had told the truth to twelve men that morning. He would not shrink from one now. "No. Not you." "I swore like they did." Tarron did not raise his voice. He stated it the way he named a fault in fleece. "I want what they got. Or I want to know why I didn't." Ajax crossed the hall. He could have named the shed and the flock and the loom, and turned the man toward his work. That was the easy road. But the easy road had cracked before, when he hid Marco's power from Grayson. He would not let a sworn man leave the hall wondering. "You want the kiss," Ajax said. "I do." Ajax looked at him. The face was kind and old, the jaw square, the chest hair gray above the blue tunic. He was no fighter. He had said so to the whole council. But he had built the loom that clothed the house, and he had set the traps that fed it. He belonged here as much as any man on the wall. He was attractive and Ajax would give him what he wanted. "Close the door," Ajax said as Tarron stepped inside. Ajax crossed the room and gave Tarron a warm, quick kiss before stepping back. “How was that?” Ajax asked with their faces close and breath warm. “Worth it” Tarron said and he turned and walked out to the shed.