Huge Ajax's Arc

Chapter 338 of 619

The titles were named. But titles were words in the air until the men agreed to them, and Ajax knew one thing had been left open. He called the council back to the hall the next morning. The problem was simpler than ranks and stood above them all. His men had leaders now. They had no name for the man those leaders answered to. Grayson stood at the head of the table, silver chain flat on his chest. He said it plain. "You gave us titles. You never took one. Hired men will ask what to call you." Ajax stayed quiet. He had built the walls, killed the beasts, sworn the men. But he had never let anyone hand him a name for it. The old habit held. He would not stack a crown on his own head. "Then you choose," Ajax said. "I won't name myself. A man who names himself lord is a man begging for it." Tucker leaned back, gold chains catching the light. "Careful," he said. "Let a room name a man and the room owns the name. You might not like it." He grinned. "But it'll stick harder than anything you pick." Aldric spread his sheet and dipped his pen. Grey showed in his hair. "Lord is a port word," he said. "It buys the wrong kind of attention. Merchants fear a lord. They deal with a master." "Master of what," Grayson said. "He's not a smith. He's not a trader." Chalam spoke last, blunt as always. "He holds the gate, the walls, the vault, and the men. He holds Black Oak. Name him for the place." Ajax looked at the four of them. This was the thing he had dodged for a year. A name would put him above the equal shares, above the Code he had nailed to the wall. He set both hands on the carved table. "Say it and vote it. All of you. I'll hold to whatever you settle." Grayson said, "Lord of Black Oak." Aldric shook his head. "Master of Black Oak. It sits better with traders." Tucker nodded at that. Chalam said, "Master. Lord invites men to test it." Grayson stood a moment, then set his fist on the table. "Master, then. I'll say it at the gate." Ajax made them vote it aloud, one at a time, so none could argue it later. Grayson, master. Aldric, master. Tucker, master. Chalam, master. Four fists on the wood. "Then it's yours," Aldric said. He wrote it under the titles and turned the sheet so Ajax could see the ink. Master of Black Oak. “Post the titles on the wall next to the code.” Ajax had a title now, given, not taken. The word would go to the port with the first thaw. Every master who docked would ask for him by it. He was no longer a man building a warhouse. He was the head of a house, and the house had a name for him.