Huge Ajax's Arc

Chapter 378 of 619

The ship left the dock at first light. Ajax stood at the port to watch it go. He had bound Marcus with a silver chain and Tucker with a promise, and now the last of his work sailed north. He came to see the departure clean, with no loose thread trailing behind. Tucker stood beside him on the stone quay. He was Ajax's Master of Port and Trade, the man who worked captains with drink and words until they gave up their secrets. Tonight there was no work left to do. The captain was already leaving. The sailors carried the last crate up the plank. Marcus stood at the rail, calling orders in short words. He was the captain Ajax had hired to reach the merchant city eight days north, sell the Verath goods, furs, and coats and come home with silver. His shirt hung open. His chest showed dark hair and the silver chain at his throat. Marcus bent over the last crate to lash it down. He tested the rope, tugged twice, and held the pose a breath longer than the work needed. Tucker's eyes went to him and stayed. He watched the captain's back, the bend of him, the way the leather pants pulled tight. He did not hide it. His two gold chains caught the low sun. Marcus straightened. He turned and caught Tucker looking. He grinned once, slow, and touched two fingers to his own chest where the silver hung. Tucker looked away first. He drank from a cup that was already empty. "You said you didn't touch him," Ajax said. "I didn't." Tucker set the cup down on a piling. "Looking's free.” Ajax watched the captain's grin fade into work again. That was the answer he needed. The want held on both sides now. Marcus would sail eight days out and eight days back for a door Tucker had left half open. Tucker would keep it shut until the ship returned, because he had said he would, and because Ajax wanted him to hold his own hunger in check. "He'll come back fast," Tucker said. "For all of this." He nodded at his own chains, at the port, at everything Marcus was leaving. "Costs me nothing to let him look." The crew hauled the plank aboard. The lines came off the cleats. Marcus lifted one hand to Tucker, palm open, and Tucker lifted his back. Then the captain turned to his men and the ship pulled off the dock. Ajax watched the sail fill. Chalam's mark rode hidden in the deck, and the hold sat heavy with hides, teeth, furs, and coats worth a season's coin. The trade north was no longer a plan. It was a ship on the water, growing small. "Now we wait," Ajax said. "Now we wait," Tucker said. He picked up the empty jug and started up the quay. "Sixteen days. Maybe sooner." He glanced back at the shrinking sail. "He'll hurry."