Huge Ajax's Arc

Chapter 358 of 619

Aldric found the brewing texts in the grove's oldest chest. He carried the two thin books to the hall and set them before Ajax. "The words are here," he said. "Barley for beer. Fruit for wine. But we grow no fruit, and the port sells us none we can trust." He tapped the page. "A house that pours its own wine needs its own trees. We have none." Ajax looked at the drawings of bare branches heavy with fruit. "Then we need trees that bear fast," he said. "And more than one kind. Captains want more than one pour." Chalam stood by the hearth, staff in hand, robe open at the chest. "The fruit-grower two valleys off could sell us cuttings," he said. "That takes years. You want faster." He was quiet a moment. "The grove can give faster. If the dryad will." Ajax lifted the flute and blew the call. They waited. By dusk she came through the gate, bark-skinned, dressed in broad green leaves, a bundle of flowers in her hand. The Leafgift Dryad had walked into his hall many times, always to repay a debt. Ajax had closed her doors and burned her threats. Now she owed him, and he meant to name the price. "You close doors others left open," she said, as she always did. "What do you want?" "Fruit," Ajax said. "Trees that bear many kinds, and bear this season. I want to make wine." She studied the brewing books over Aldric's shoulder. "Grove trees can bear early," she said. "Not one kind on one tree. But I can wake many trees at once. Apple. Pear. Plum. Berry." She set her flowers on the table. "Plant these roots by your wall. They will fruit inside a season, not years. This pays my debt in full." Aldric opened his ledger. "Four fruits," he said, writing. "Enough for four wines. No port on the coast pours four from one dock." "The soil holds," Chalam said, kneeling at the flowers. He crushed a leaf and smelled it. "These are grove-grown. They take root anywhere I lay a ward. I can do that tonight. I may be able to make them grow faster also.” Ajax took the roots. He turned one in his hand, pale and cold. "We plant at first light," he said. "Aldric, you learn the words in the book. Chalam, you ward the ground so nothing rots them." He looked at the dryad. "Your debt is paid. Thank you.” She left through the gate without another word. By dawn the roots stood in a row against the west wall, warded and watered. Chalam confirmed they held. Aldric closed the brewing book and named the plan aloud: barley beer within a month, four wines by the season's end. Black Oak would pour drink no other dock could match. Ajax stood over the young trees. He had the fruit now. He had the books. But he had thirteen sworn men who could fight and hunt, and not one who knew how to make wine that a captain would pay for.