Huge Ajax's Arc

Chapter 576 of 619

Corin rode to the Crossing at the next tide with the tall wizard beside him. Marco met them at the town gate. Marco had held the road for months, reading traders' minds, turning back spies. He wore his blue shirt open at the collar, the gold chain bright on his chest. He looked Corin over and gave a short nod. "You're the boy Chalam aged," Marco said. "You don't look like a boy now." Corin held his eyes the way Ajax had taught him. "I read the stones. That's why I'm here." "Good." Marco pointed to a spot beside the gate. "Stand there. Feel every man who passes. If a stone hums in you, you tell me. I catch the lies. You catch what I can't." Corin took the post. He had feared this moment on the ride north. A gate meant men, and men had always stepped past him. He set his jaw and waited. The first trader came through with a mule cart. He slowed when he saw Corin. He looked up at the broad shoulders, the steady stare, and he touched his cap. "Morning," the man said, and moved on quick. Corin blinked. No one had ever tipped a cap to him before. By noon three more men had done the same. A young guard on the wall kept glancing over. A trader's son stared too long, then flushed and looked at his boots. Corin felt the warmth of it spread through his chest. He stood straighter. He held each look a beat longer than he needed to. Marco watched from the shade. He said nothing for a while. Then he came and stood at Corin's shoulder. "They like you," Marco said. Dry, warm. "I can hear it. Half of them forget why they came through the gate." Corin grinned before he could stop himself. "I don't mind it." "I can see that." Marco let the moment sit. Then his voice went flat. "You felt every stone this morning?" Corin's grin dropped. He had not. Two carts had rolled through while a guard smiled at him, and he had not reached out with his gift once. He had been busy being looked at. "Two got by me," Corin said. He made himself say it. "I was watching the men watch me." Marco nodded slow. He did not scold. He only turned Corin by the shoulder to face the road square. "The gift first. Always. Let them admire the wall all they want. You still have to read what walks past it." He tapped his own gold chain. "I know what it is to be wanted, boy. It's a tool. It's not the work." Corin planted his feet. He reached out with his sense and felt the road open under his mind, every cart, every collar of iron, every clean man and hidden one. He caught the next trader's stare and let it pass through him without pulling him off the work. "There," Marco said. "Now you're a guard."