by AC Cobble
“Problems? Don’t you work for the Sanctuary? Or at least for Lady Towaal?” asked Renfro.
“Aye, I work the Sanctuary,” nodded Rhys. “They pay the best. Doesn’t mean I always have to agree with what they do. You didn’t agree with everything the thieves were doing in Fabrizo, did you? Don’t answer. Let me guess. You and your little thief buddies spent most of your time complaining about that guild and its policies?”
“Hmm.” Renfro scratched his head. “You’re right. When you explain it like that, it makes a lot of sense.”
“So, what exactly do you do for the Sanctuary?” asked Ben. He had his suspicions, of course. Rhys was slippery when it came to certain topics so he hoped to catch him off guard while he was in a talkative mood.
Saala perked up as well. He’d been studying the architecture they passed but he was obviously also curious about what Rhys would say.
Rhys laughed. “A little bit of this and a little bit of that. Most of this town is somehow involved in Sanctuary business, but some things don’t need to be discussed in public, you know? Let’s just say they send me where I need to be to make sure their interests are being protected. In some cases, that means making sure threats to their interests do not manifest. Just like our friend Saala, right?”
Saala frowned. “I’m not sure what I do is just like what you do. But if you say so, I’ll go along with it.”
“Right,” continued Rhys. “So what do you want first? The bawdiest boudoir, the sweetest singing minstrel, the brightest wine, the coldest ale? The City isn’t cheap, you may quickly run out of coin, but you’ll never run out of things to do.”
With a little nudging from Saala, Rhys was persuaded to show them some comfortable beds before he took off to make his report to the Sanctuary. He picked an airy-looking plain stone building ringed by arched windows. It was a few blocks down from his apartment, and he knew the owner, so he said he could get them a better rate than they’d find elsewhere. It was small and simple compared to some of the places they’d stayed on the journey, but it was a good sight better than the bushes and rocks they’d slept next to. Even the discounted rate gave Ben pause, but Rhys assured them that it was a better deal than they’d find elsewhere.
That evening, bathed and refreshed, Ben, Renfro, and Saala sat in the common room to dine and to plan. Now that they had finally made it to the end of their journey, they had to answer the question of what came next. Ben and Renfro were committed to starting a brewery as neither had any other marketable skills. Saala had graciously agreed to assist. With Amelie safely ensconced in the Sanctuary and no further instructions, he was free to help until he got called away.
“Location, equipment, supply of materials, and customers. Those are the four problems we’ll need to solve,” started Ben.
“I can help with the customers I guess,” offered Renfro. “I don’t know too much about the other things. With the guild in Fabrizo, one of my roles was sizing marks. This can’t be too different, can it?”
“Sadly, it’s probably not.” Saala smiled. “If you tell me what you need, Ben, I might be able to help with a location. Showing the blademaster sigil occasionally has some perks. People tend to be a little easier in negotiations.”
“Okay,” stated Ben. “That leaves the equipment and materials to me. Once we get the location and that lined up, we can start brewing.”
The next two weeks were a blur of activity getting the brewery set up. They received a message from Amelie and Meghan that their first two free days were cancelled for extra classes, so the men focused on the business. In that time, Saala was able to find a suitable location, Ben got the equipment and materials, and Renfro scouted some potential customers. No one wanted to commit without tasting the beer, as Ben suspected would happen, but they’d found some people unhappy with their current supplier.
They accomplished a lot in two weeks Ben thought as he surveyed the dimly lit room. The location Saala found was a large cellar under one of the towers. It was crisscrossed with heavy arches and supports. In some places, the ceiling only cleared Ben’s head by a hand, but it had room to grow into, it had accessible water in large supply, and they could afford it. There was poor lighting and the owners of the tower didn’t need it for storage, so they’d been able to pick it up quickly and cheap by City standards.
Ben walked by the rack of twenty sturdy kegs where the first batch was fermenting. He had poured nearly all of his resources into these kegs. He found simple usable equipment but splurged on high quality ingredients. He hoped it was worth it. Within two weeks, he’d bottle a small amount to shop around to local taverns. When they had a buyer, they’d wheel the entire keg—or hopefully kegs—over. In the meantime, he didn’t have much to do.
While he was still surveying their work, he heard a squeak near the entrance to the cellar and turned to see Saala shutting the heavy doors.
“You might want to get in the habit of keeping these shut,” he called out. “The City isn’t nearly as lawless as Fabrizo and some other places, but there are still people who you don’t want coming in here uninvited.”
“Good point,” replied Ben. “I guess I’m used to Farview still. It wasn’t much of a concern there.”
“You’re not in Farview anymore. Speaking of which, since you’ve got some downtime, I saw these at the market and picked them up.” Saala tossed Ben a long object.
When he caught it, he saw it was a practice sword. It had nearly the same heft as his long sword but it appeared to be a bundle of long reeds.
“It’s weighted in the center to give you the real feel of a sword, but the reeds will soften a blow. I’m thinking it’s going to leave a wicked welt, but that’s better than a cut or broken bone. I want you to get real practice without that play armor they used in Whitehall. It limits your range of motion, and unless you’re marching to a battle, you won’t be wearing full armor anyway.”
Ben swished the practice sword around a few times to get a feel for it. The weight felt familiar, but it was thicker than a real sword so there was more air resistance.
“Looks like you’re ready.” Saala grinned before lunging at Ben with his own practice sword.
Ben was caught off guard but managed to dance back before Saala landed a blow. The next two bells they fought in the dim cellar. The low ceilings and arches kept getting in Ben’s way. He felt like he was nearly back at step one. Over and over again Saala struck him. He found himself constantly on the defensive.
“The next two weeks,” said Saala, “you’ll spend mornings with me and afternoons we’ll both be with Rhys. I convinced that scoundrel to continue teaching us the Ohms.”
Ben hoped Saala’s talking would distract him, so he ducked low and advanced with a spinning attack he’d invented to use on the men at arms at Whitehall. Saala smiled and deflected the first strike then glided out of reach.
“Good thinking,” he continued. “That was the perfect time to get aggressive. Any time your opponent gives you an opening, use it.” Saala kept giving pointers as they fought. How he had any breath to speak was beyond Ben, who was panting and wheezing from the exertion.
After another bell, Saala stepped on an empty sack causing his foot to slip and Ben saw an opening. He quickly swung an overhead attack before Saala could reset, but nearly lost his sword when it smacked into one of the low hanging arches. Saala chuckled and instantly reacted. He poked his own sword into Ben’s stomach, just hard enough to send him crashing to the ground.
“You got very close that time,” Saala said with a short bow.
Ben grunted from the floor.
“The next two weeks, we’ll take the time to find and practice in new terrain. I can see we spent too long in flat open fields.” Saala reached a hand down. “Get up. Rhys will be here soon.”
“Where’s Renfro?” asked Rhys that afternoon.
“I’m not really sure,” replied Ben. “He said he has some things to do. I think he’s trying to come up with another option if the brewery d
oesn’t work out.”
“He should be.” Rhys nodded. “He’s living on Amelie’s gold and your skill making ale. Not a bad life, but it always pays to have a backup plan. That being said, you should keep an eye on him. The guild in Fabrizo is dangerous, but in some ways, they made it safer for someone like him. The guild gets away with their petty theft and doesn’t rock the apple cart for the major merchants so they are tolerated. There’s no guild here and no protection. He gets caught doing something he shouldn’t, and it could be off with his head.”
Ben gulped. “I don’t think he’d take up thieving again. I think he’s looking for honest work.”
“Maybe he is.” Rhys shrugged. “But once you’ve had a taste of easy money, it’s hard to turn it down the next time.”
Later that evening over dinner, Ben asked Renfro about it.
“Oh, I was down by the docks,” Renfro explained. “I had to learn to fish in Fabrizo. It was the only way I ate some days before the guild took me in. I figure with this big of a river, there’s got to be fishing around here too. I was looking into it.”
“Any luck?” inquired Ben.
“Not so far.” Renfro sat back. “There’s some old folk scattered around the water front, but from what I could tell, it’s more of a past time than a profession. I went down to the docks where Reinhold’s boat is and couldn’t get in there. There are some guards and they say it’s all private vessels. You have to prove you’ve bought passage on one to get in. I’ll keep at it though. Like I said, it’s a big river, and there’s got to be fish.”
“Good,” said Ben. He was satisfied with Renfro’s answer and didn’t think there was any reason to bring up Rhys’ suspicion.
Two weeks later, it was time to find out if they could sell their ale. Despite Renfro’s prospecting, Ben thought Rhys had given them the best shot and that’s where he wanted to start. Rhys swung by for ‘a small taste’. Several mugs later, he had convinced Ben he needed to sell to the Flying Swan Inn. It had a small number of rooms and a large tavern with a reputation for quality.
“Tell ’em it’s a foreign style and produced in small batches,” advised Rhys. “They eat that stuff up there. Tell the owner, Mathias, that I sent you. I think he’ll like this.” He took a sip. “Maybe I should have another, just to be sure.”
The next morning, Ben and Renfro stood in the near empty common room of the Flying Swan and asked to see the proprietor.
“No solicitations,” barked a gruff serving man. “The manager only sees vendors once a week on Newday. And we already have plenty of ale and only serve the highest quality product. You’re wasting your time here, young fellas.”
Ben and Renfro looked at each other nervously.
“Well, thank you for your time.” Renfro sighed. To Ben he added, “Might as well try the Gnarly Dog next.”
Ben saw the wicked smirk the serving man gave when Renfro mentioned the Gnarly Dog. He knew that would be a dead end as well.
“Hold on,” Ben broke in. “We know the owner Mathias. Can we see him instead of the manager?”
The serving man blinked. “Well, why didn’t you say so? Normally he doesn’t bother with this kind of thing, but if you really do know him… What did you say your name was?”
“Uh, Rhys,” replied Ben.
Moments later a hairy, burly-looking man emerged from the back. Ben immediately began checking escape routes because the man moved like a swordsman. Those scar and muscle-sheathed arms didn’t come from wiping tavern tables.
“Ho,” he boomed. “I didn’t think I’d find Rhys out here hawking ales. That man is solely on the other side of the transaction.”
“Sorry sir,” muttered a nervous Ben. “Master Rhys had directed us to this inn, and I couldn’t think of another way to avoid getting kicked out of here.”
“If you know Rhys well enough to drop his name and you aren’t face down in the river, then I suppose you’re worth my time,” the man answered. “Let me see what you’ve got.”
Half a bell later, Ben and Renfro walked out of the Flying Swan Inn with an order for five kegs and five more kegs in a week. After that, Mathias told them they’d see if the patrons drank it and go from there. Ben felt buoyant. When they mentioned they had twenty kegs of stock, Mathias suggested they ramp up production immediately.
Mathias kept all of their sample bottles to pass around to his staff for tasting. Ben thought that they didn’t need any more samples though. At five kegs a week, they’d need to start brewing now just to keep up with that order.
Three months in the City and the brewery business was going well. In the last week alone they’d sold twenty kegs to Mathias and several more to individuals. Mathias started offering a premium if they kept him as their only public customer. Ben was happy to keep their product exclusive for the time being and make fatter margins, but Renfro was pushing for expansion and wanted to capitalize on the excitement people had for something different.
“I don’t know what to tell you about that,” Rhys drawled. They were meeting him at the Flying Swan Inn, and were enjoying some of their product. “It depends on what you want to do I suppose. You expand, that means adding employees and a whole lotta headaches. Might get the notice of some of the big guys, and competition in the City isn’t always friendly. Of course, if you plan to settle down here and make a life out of this, then maybe it’s worth it to build a serious business.”
Ben shrugged. “That’s just it. I don’t know what I want to do. Things haven’t worked out so far like we planned and I don’t know if I want to stay here.”
“What do you mean you don’t want to stay here!” interjected Renfro. Ben ignored him.
“Give it some time,” said Rhys. “The Sanctuary is always like this, secrets and more secrets. They’ll let you in when it’s time.”
“We’ve been here three months and I haven’t even gotten to see them!” complained Ben. “They’ve barely written. How do we even know they’re okay?”
“I told you they’re okay.” Rhys sighed with a shake of his head. “I saw them two weeks ago and they’re both fine. Tired, but fine.”
Ben sat back glumly. The promised free days at the Sanctuary had not happened for Meghan and Amelie. Aside from a few brief notes, he had no communication with them. Rhys visited the Sanctuary irregularly, and he’d been their only source of news about how the girls were doing. Lately, it had started sounding repetitive. Tired, but fine.
Rhys placed a hand on Ben’s shoulder. “I’ll go by tomorrow and see what I can find out, but I can’t make any promises. I’m pretty much straight in to see my handlers, then I’m back out. Not a lot of time for sightseeing. I’ve been working for them for three years now, which isn’t a lot of time in the eyes of the Sanctuary. They think long term. It’s not like they let me wander around the Initiates’ Quarters on my own.”
“It always sounds like you hate the place,” said Renfro. “Why do you keep working for them?”
Rhys grinned and answered, “Gold.”
Ben leaned in. “You’ve got enough gold, don’t you? I never see you spending it. Can’t you quit if it’s that bad?”
“Oh, it’s not really about the gold.” Rhys smirked and his expression darkened. “I pretend it is, but you know me well enough by now. I’m not a good man. There have been times I’ve been a very bad man. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve thought about it more and more. What if I could do some good in this world? The Sanctuary was the way I was trying to do the right thing for once. Doing good, doing what’s right, it isn’t always as easy as it seems.”
“What do you mean?” asked Ben. “Don’t take what isn’t yours, help others, don’t put your needs above someone else’s… That’s a start, right?”
“Remember when I helped you two out of that jam in Fabrizo? Bargained you right out from under the knives of the Thieves’ Guild. It cost poor Lord Frederick in Whitehall his life, though. Two for one, does that make it a good act? Or maybe because I know you and we’d been getting t
o be friends. Is that good to protect your own at the expense of someone you don’t know?”
“Oh,” replied Ben, sitting back. “I see.”
Rhys tapped the worn handle of one of his long knives. “You live by the sword and have the power to make life and death choices, sooner or later, you will. I was getting tired of it. That’s why I joined with the Sanctuary. Figured I’d trust them to call the shots and maybe I’d end up doing some good for once. Problem is, I’m not so sure that good is what they’re doing.”
The next Newday, Ben finally got a chance to go to the Sanctuary and see Meghan and Amelie. Rhys had returned with the news after his last visit. Ben was nervous. It’d been three months since their emotionally charged goodbyes. A lot could change in that time. What Rhys said was weighing heavily on him as well. Would they be the same two girls he travelled with from Farview, or younger versions of Lady Towaal?
Renfro said he would stay behind to check on some business leads, but Ben figured he just wasn’t as close with the girls and wanted a day off. They’d been working hard recently and he didn’t think anything of Renfro needing a break.
The Sanctuary was located in a high-walled compound on the north end of the island. It was a half bell walk from the brewery and Ben’s apartment. He had made the trip twice already when he was waiting to hear from the girls and wanted to see what he could see, which wasn’t anything from the street. Some of the taller towers around the north end certainly had views over those walls, but on casual checking, he found most were private residences and none seemed open to a young man trying to spy on girls in the Sanctuary.