Huge Ajax's Arc

Chapter 334 of 619

The four shirts fit open the waist showing off their bare chests and Ajax knew silk alone would not hold these men. They wore fine cloth over bare skin, but they were still hired hands, free to talk at the port. He needed a mark that bound them to silence until the thaw. The men looked intently at Ajax. Ajax lifted the first chain and hung it around a man's neck. The silver lay cool on the skin. He did the same with the next three, one by one, his hands steady. Their chains and chests caught the lamplight. "These chains say you're mine for the winter," Ajax said. "You eat here. You sleep here. You say nothing at the port about the gate, the canal, or the men behind these walls. Wear the chain and you have my roof. Break it and you lose more than the chain." He looked at each face. "Swear it." Each man swore. Their voices were plain and quick. Tucker leaned on the bar and watched. He wore his own two gold chains and a bracelet, and he knew the difference between his and theirs. "Silver on bare skin," he said. "Cheaper than gold, and it tells the story without a word." He drained his cup. "A master walks in, sees four fit men in chains pouring his wine, and he remembers Black Oak. That's the whole trick." "Then let them show it," Ajax said. Tucker set his cup down and stepped in front of the four. "Chin up," he told them. "Don't slouch. You don't chase a man's eye. You hold still and let him come to you." He tapped the first man's chest near his chain. "Turn." The man turned. The silver and the bare muscle showed together. Tucker nodded. "That's it. You four are worth more standing quiet than any drunk sellsword in this house." Ajax watched them straighten. The chains had changed them. An hour ago they were four men off a cart. Now they wore his silver and his rule, bound by their own word until spring. "They'll pour wine in the shirts," Ajax told Tucker. "Chains under the silk when the masters come. But the chains stay on. Day and night." "Understood," Tucker said. "I'll train them tomorrow. How to stand, how to listen, how to please, when to say nothing." He grinned. "Saying nothing's the hard part." "Take them," Ajax said. Tucker gathered the four with a jerk of his head and led them toward the bunkhouse to begin. Ajax stood alone at the bar. His house had four new mouths bound to it, marked and sworn for the winter. Come thaw, they would swear the Code or leave. Until then, they were his.