Huge Ajax's Arc

Chapter 341 of 619

The workhouse stood ready, but empty. Ajax walked the tanning racks and looms and saw no goods on them. Ships would come at thaw. He needed to know what those ships would carry away. He called Tucker to the bar to learn what sold best. Tucker leaned on the counter, gold chains bright on his bare chest. He turned a cup in his hand and did not rush. "Common cloth fills a hold," he said. "It pays wages. It won't make a master remember us." He drank. "You want them talking at the next port. That means something no one else has." "Then name it," Ajax said. "Rare goods." Tucker set the cup down. "Bone needles from a beast no one's seen. Hide that turns a blade. Oil that hides a man's step." He shrugged. "A master pays for a story. He sells the story again up north for double. That's the trade." Ajax weighed it. Cloth for coin. Rare wares for reputation. He needed both, and he needed materials he did not have. The hall door opened. The Leafgift Dryad stepped in, bark-skin arms holding a bundle of broad leaves and pale flowers. She had aided Ajax before, closing sealed doors and warning of beasts in the north woods. He owed her, and she paid him back in kind. Tucker straightened at the bar. He knew who fed the flock and stocked the shelves. "You have made a house that makes things," she said. Her voice came slow and kind. "The grove owes you for the doors you closed." She laid the bundle on the table. "Leafcloth. It takes dye no port has seen. And root that bleeds a red no dye can match." Ajax touched the cloth. It was light and strong. He looked at Tucker. Tucker lifted a corner and held it to the lamp. The weave caught the light like water. "That's the story piece," he said. "No master owns cloth like this. He'll pay for the first bolt and beg for more." "Can Tarron work it on the loom?" Ajax asked. "He can," the dryad said. "The thread runs true. And the root will color the wool you already spin." She pressed a flower into Ajax's hand. "Plant these by your wall. They draw bees. Bees make wax. Wax sells." Ajax closed his fist on the flower. He had his answer now. Cloth of dryad thread and root-dyed wool for the masters who wanted a story. Common wool and hides beneath it for the coin. The workhouse had its stock at last. "Take it to the shed," Ajax told Tucker. "Tell Tarron to card the first bolt tonight. I want a length ready before the thaw." Tucker gathered the bundle. "First master through the canal," he said, "walks out talking about Black Oak." He left for the loom. The dryad watched him go, then Ajax. "You close doors," she said. "Now you open trade." She turned and began to do her ornate work on the wood inside the workhouse and storage room shelves.