Huge Ajax's Arc

Chapter 8 of 619

They rode until the sun dropped behind the treeline. The coast road bent inland here, past a shelf of black rock that broke the wind. Ajax reined up and looked it over. Flat ground for bedrolls. A stream ten paces off. Rock at their back and open sight down the road both ways. He had been watching for it since noon. "Here," Ajax said. "We camp." Grayson swung down without a word and led his horse to the stream. Marco started pulling saddles. Tucker walked the perimeter once, slow, then began gathering wood. Chalam set his staff against the rock and sat. Asher tied the horses in a line, quiet, the way he did everything. Elara dropped her saddlebag by the fire ring Tucker was building. She stretched her back and watched the men work. "Good spot," she said to Ajax. "You picked it." "I picked it." She nodded once, like she was filing that away. Grayson came back from the stream with his waterskin full. He had stripped his shirt to wash and had not put it back on. Sweat still ran down his chest. The silver chain his father left him caught the last of the light. He crouched by the fire ring and struck a flint. Elara watched him a moment. Then she smiled, slow. "Grayson." He looked up. "Flex that arm for me. The one with the flint." Tucker snorted. Marco stopped mid-saddle and turned. Grayson looked at her flat. "No." "Come on. Fair's fair. You boys spent all day looking at me on the road." "No." He struck the flint again. The tinder caught. He stood, wiped his hands on the loincloth, and walked past her toward his bedroll. Elara laughed, not mean. "Worth a try." Asher, tying the last horse, said without looking up, "He doesn't flex for anyone." "I see that." Ajax watched the exchange and said nothing. It was not his to run. Grayson had shut it down himself, clean, no help needed. That was the shape of it now. Six people, each one holding their own line. He walked the perimeter once more before dark. When he came back, the fire was up. Marco had a pot on. Tucker was telling some story to Elara that she was half-listening to. Chalam had not moved. Grayson sat with his back to the rock, eating. Ajax sat down across from him. "Two more days to the coast," Ajax said. "Two," Grayson said. "Then we start on the walls." Grayson chewed. "Six is not enough for walls." "I know." "You'll need more men once we're there." "I know that too." Grayson looked at him over the fire. Then he went back to his food. Ajax ate. The camp settled. He had found the ground. He had held the group together one more night. Tomorrow the road. The day after, the coast, and the harder question of who would swing a hammer for him once the riding was done.