Huge Ajax's Arc

Chapter 72 of 619

They broke camp at first light. Chalam moved slow but steady, the satchel of full vials heavy at his hip. Marco still had his hands on the two collared men. His eyes were red. He had not slept. Ajax was tying the prisoners to the spare horses when the brush at the stream parted. A woman stepped out. Her skin had the grain of stripped wood. A dress of broad green leaves hung to her ankles. She carried a bundle of pale flowers in one hand and a length of carved staff in the other. Chalam lowered his head. "You've walked far," she said to Ajax. "You'll walk farther. I brought what you need." Ajax stood. He had seen her kind before at the coast and in the valley. They gave what they gave and asked in their own time. He waited. She held out the staff. It was longer than Chalam's, pale as bone, wound with a live green vine. "For the wizard. His old one is spent. This one holds more." Chalam stepped forward. He took it in both hands and drew a breath as if he'd been handed water after a dry day. "It's warm," he said. "It will warm more when you need it." She held out her free hand. "Give me the old." Chalam unslung his staff and set it in her palm. She turned it once, looked at the worn grip, and tucked it under her arm like kindling. Ajax watched her. "What do you want." "Nothing you don't already carry." She whistled once, low. From the trees a small cart rolled out on its own wheels, pulled by nothing. It stopped beside the horses. The bed was woven from bent green wood and lined with moss. Two side rails. A long enough bed for a man to lie down in. "Hitch it behind," she said. "Your prisoners ride. Your dark man sleeps while you move. He can't hold their mouths shut if he falls off a horse." Marco looked at Ajax. He didn't speak. He didn't need to. "Why," Ajax said. The dryad tilted her head. "Because the men in the collars would have cut my groves next. Take it. Ride." Grayson was already moving. He backed the pack horse to the cart and lashed the tongue in with two quick loops. Tucker checked the wheels. Asher lifted the first collared man in by the shoulders. The second followed. Marco climbed in between them and put a hand on each forehead again. His shoulders dropped an inch. "Sleep," Ajax told him. "An hour at a time. Chalam will wake you." The dryad was already stepping back into the brush. The old staff went with her. Ajax mounted. The cart creaked once and held. He had a rested wizard with a stronger staff, a bed for his listener, and a full day's ride to the next name. "Move," he said.