Huge Ajax's Arc

Chapter 371 of 619

The handshake sealed the bargain, but a shaken hand could be forgotten. Ajax wanted the captain bound before he ever touched the ship. He rose from the stool and told Tucker to hold the bar. "Come with me," he said to Marcus. "The oath is sworn away from open ears." He led the captain up the stairs to an empty lodge suite. The room held a bed, a basin, and a window shuttered against the sea. Ajax closed the door. He drew a silver chain from his belt and let it hang from his fist. Marcus watched it swing and said nothing. "Off with the vest and shirt," Ajax said. "The chain goes on bare skin. That is how we swear it." Marcus did not argue. He shrugged the vest from his shoulders and pulled the shirt over his head. His chest was broad and hairy, thick through the arms from years of hauling line. He rolled his shoulders and set his feet. Then he flexed, and the muscle in his arms and chest stood hard under the lamplight. He held the pose. He liked to be looked at, and he made no secret of it. "Steady hands," Marcus said. "You wanted proof I can hold a rope. Look." Ajax stepped close. He set his palm flat against the captain's chest and pressed. The muscle was solid, no give in it. He felt the heartbeat under his hand, slow and even. A man whose pulse did not jump was a man who did not spook at sea or at a dock full of questions. Ajax moved his hand along over his biceps, testing the build the way he tested every man he took in. "You hold," Ajax said. "And you know you look good... like a dockhand." Marcus grinned and chuckled. "You can feel them anytime you like." Their eyes locked. Ajax gave a slight grin and lifted the silver chain and lowered it over the captain's head. It settled cold against the hair of his chest, above the old chain he already wore. "Say it," Ajax said. "You never name this place. Not the gate, not the canal, not the man who owns them. You sail my ship north and you bring it back. Swear it on the chain." "I swear it," Marcus said. Flat. "I never name your place. I sail north. I come back." Marcus let him feel the chain for a moment longer. Ajax dropped his hand. The oath was done. The captain was sworn, bound in silver like the workers below, but with a ship under him and eight days of open sea between Black Oak and the merchant city. Ajax opened the shutter and looked at the water. The hull waited at the port. Now it had a bound captain to sail it. That was the last piece he had needed to reach the north. But a sworn man far out of reach was a new kind of risk. Once Marcus cleared the harbor, no ward held him and no gate stopped him. Ajax would have to trust silver and a handshake across eight days of sea. He turned from the window. Marcus was pulling his shirt back on, calm as ever, already a captain again.