Huge Ajax's Arc

Chapter 95 of 619

They broke camp before dawn. Ajax rode second in line behind Tucker, the ledger buttoned inside his vest. The oak stand thinned into scrub, and the road bent north across low hills. Two names left. One clean night behind them. Ajax kept his eyes on the ridges instead of the road. By midmorning he was sure. A single rider trailed them, half a mile back, working the tree line whenever they crossed open ground. Ajax had marked him at the last creek and again at the top of the last rise. Same horse. Same distance held. A scout, not a chaser. If Ajax pushed on without acting, that man would follow them to the next name on the list and hand their camp to whoever paid him. Ajax rode up beside Tucker and kept his voice low. "One rider. Behind us since the creek. He's counting heads and holding back." Tucker did not turn his head. He worked a piece of grass between his teeth. "Want me to lose him or catch him." "Catch him. Alive if you can." "Alive costs more." Tucker spat the grass. "I'll manage." Ajax laid out the shape of it. Tucker would ride ahead over the next rise, cut south into the pines, and double back through the draw. Ajax would slow the column and let the scout close the gap. When the scout crested the rise, Tucker would be behind him. Tucker peeled off at the next bend without a word to the others. Ajax lifted a hand to Grayson at the rear and eased the pace. He let Chalam and Elara pass him, then he sat his horse in the middle of the road and waited for the man behind him to make a choice. The scout crested the rise at a walk. He saw Ajax alone and reined in. He was reaching for the horn on his belt when Tucker rode out of the pines behind him with a rope already swinging. The loop caught the scout under one arm. Tucker set his heels and dragged him off the saddle. The horn hit the dirt untouched. Ajax got there first. He put a boot on the man's wrist and took the horn. He took a knife from the man's belt and a folded paper from inside his coat. No collar. No spiral brand when Ajax pulled his shirt open. A hired eye. "Who paid you," Ajax said. "A woman. Two days south. Silver up front, silver on delivery when I named your camp." Ajax looked at the paper. A crude map. The last two marks on his own list, circled in a different hand. He folded the paper into his vest. Marco walked his horse up and set two fingers against the man's temple. The scout's eyes went slack. "He forgets us," Ajax said. "Boots off. Horse loose. We ride." The fifth name on the list already knew he was coming. Now Ajax knew she did.