Huge Ajax's Arc

Chapter 592 of 619

Ajax paid for the grain and turned to leave. That was when the trouble started. A boy near the well pointed at Chalam's staff and shouted. Men spilled from doorways. In a breath, the crowd stood thick between Ajax and the gate. "They saw me touch the ground," Chalam said, low. "They think I woke it." The old council man pushed to the front. His hands shook. "Away from the well," he said. "You bring the sickness. You wake what sleeps." Behind him, two gate men held clubs. More came. Frightened men make a fast mob. Marco stepped to Ajax's side and spoke under the noise. "They mean to drag you off the well and lock the three of you in a shed. The old one thinks it will spare the town." He watched the crowd, not Ajax. "If Chalam raises the staff, they'll swing." Ajax read it plain. He could not reach the well. He could not fight his way clear without turning the whole town against his crew. And Kael and Torren waited outside the wall with the boat men, close enough to hear a shout, close enough to spark a slaughter that would seal the gate forever. He raised both hands, open, and spoke loud enough to carry. "Hear me. We are traders. We bought your grain. We touched nothing." He nodded at Chalam. "He is old. He leaned on his stick. That is all." The old man's eyes did not soften. Ajax changed course. He would give them what they wanted—leave—and take the one thing he needed. "We go now," Ajax said. "But your well is failing. I have seen the mark of it before, down the coast. The town that emptied." A murmur ran through the crowd. He had their fear now, and fear could be steered. "The seal below is old. It weakens. You need men who know it." The old man wet his lips. "You would open it." "Not today. Not blind." Ajax kept his voice even. "Send word to the boat when you are ready. We come back with tools and stand outside your wall. You watch. Your men hold the gate. No trick." It was enough to move them. The old man raised a hand. The clubs lowered. The crowd opened a lane, slow, watching every step. Ajax walked out with Tucker, Chalam, and Marco at his back. The gate shut behind them. Kael and Torren rose from the rocks, hands on their knives. "Hold," Ajax said. "No blood." At the boat, Chalam sat heavy on the thwart. "We left with nothing but grain." "We left with the way in," Ajax said. He looked back at the wall. He had traded panic for a door held open on his own terms. Now he needed the tools to open the thing beneath it—and the certainty that opening it would not end them all.