Huge Ajax's Arc

Chapter 356 of 619

The two Verath hides hung whole in the hall, and the pale-fur coats lay beside them. Ajax had slept two hours before the horns of the master's ship reached the gate. Now Aldric's craftsmen had one job left: turn the raw haul into finished goods before the captain saw the dock. Teeth, glands, hide. All of it had to be worked and ready, or the story would sour before it sailed. Ajax found his men at the workhouse. Aldric bent over a tray of teeth, sorting them by size. "These become needles," he said. "Healers pay a season's wage for one. But I need the day." He held up a stoppered vial of gland oil. "This is done. It masks a man's steps for a full night." "We don't have the day," Ajax said. "He's here now." Tucker came through the door with the master behind him. Tucker had run more rooms than any man Ajax knew. He worked a stranger the way a smith worked iron, slow and sure. He set a cup in the captain's hand before the man could ask for one. "Master's seen the dock," Tucker said. His two gold chains caught the hall light. He knew they did. "He wants to see what fills his hold." The captain was broad, gray at the temples, with a trader's flat stare. He looked at the hides. He looked longer at the whole Verath skin on the wall. He said nothing, which Ajax read as good. "Hides are whole," Ajax said. "Coats are cut and sewn. Oil's rendered." He nodded to Aldric. "Needles come from these teeth. My man works them today." The captain touched the pale fur. "How many needles?" "A dozen," Aldric said. "No port south of here has one." Tucker let that sit. He did not push. He turned a bone needle in his fingers, held it to the light, set it down. "He carries these north," Tucker said, "and the next three masters ask him where he found them." He shrugged. "That's worth more than the silver." The captain drank. He set the cup down empty. "I'll take the lot," he said. "Hides, coats, oil, and the needles when they're cut. Northern silver, paid at the dock." Ajax kept his face still. Half a hold was all he'd feared. This filled it whole and named a price above the first offer. "Done," he said. They worked through the day. Aldric cut the needles. Tarron finished the trim. The dock men carried the crates down the canal, shirtless in the cold, and the captain watched his hold fill. By dusk the ship rode low with Black Oak's first cargo. The captain paid in silver and shook Ajax's hand. "I'll tell others where the dock is," he said. Ajax watched the sail turn south. His house had made its first trade, and the story sailed with it. But a named dock drew ships he had not chosen. The next sail might carry a buyer, or a man asking after the gate.