by AC Cobble
“We can be dangerous too,” muttered Rhys darkly.
The next Newday, Ben sat slumped in a corner of the Flying Swan Inn going over his ledgers. In addition to being his biggest customer, Mathias had become one of Ben’s best friends in the City. The man was an excellent listener and appreciated complexities and qualities in ale that was beyond even Ben. He offered Ben a spot at a table whenever he wanted and the serving girls had learned to leave him alone when he was working.
The Flying Swan Inn was a well-run establishment that benefited from its proprietor’s sole focus on running the place. The common room was constantly in a state of being cleaned, and Mathias spent extra for comfortable tables and chairs. He lined the walls with memorabilia from other people’s travels and added other little touches that created a welcoming ambiance. It was a far step above the Buckhorn Tavern in Farview in terms of quality, but it held the same feel of home for Ben, so he was happy to do work there instead of in the dimly lit cellar he did the brewing.
Today, he was having trouble focusing on getting the ledgers done. It wasn’t long before Mathias stopped by his table to ask what was wrong.
“Visitation day is cancelled again. I heard it from a meat pie seller down the street,” grumbled Ben.
Mathias, who was familiar with Ben’s relationship with Amelie and Meghan, asked, “What, the girls acting up in class again? Hold on. You said a meat pie man told you. It’s cancelled for everyone?”
“Yes, that’s what I heard. I was still going to walk over this afternoon during my normal time but it’s probably a wasted effort. Supposedly some important visitors showed up in the night and they don’t want any strangers on campus.”
Mathias surveyed the room before pulling up a chair at Ben’s table. “This is just rumor, but there is word that representatives from the Coalition are here. I heard it from a man I used to work with, someone I trust. This kind of thing usually is all over town, though, and I haven’t heard a peep from anyone else. I’m not sure what to believe, but it would explain why the Sanctuary doesn’t want any outsiders behind those walls.”
Ben frowned. “The Coalition? But the Sanctuary is aligned with the Alliance. I was there with Lady Towaal at Whitehall. That doesn’t make any sense.”
Mathias rapped one scar crossed hairy knuckle on the table and replied, “What the Sanctuary says they do and what they do aren’t the same thing. Take anything they show to the world with a grain of salt. Lady Towaal was at the Conclave, but I heard she didn’t sign the agreement, right? I don’t claim to know the mind of the Veil, but this wouldn’t be the first time she played both sides. Like I said, I’d expect that news to be everywhere and it isn’t, so that means it’s not true at all, or it’s very true and it’s serious.”
“What would the Coalition want with the Sanctuary anyway?” wondered Ben. “I heard the mages never participate in war. That’s why Lady Towaal didn’t sign the agreement.”
“You’re right. They don’t participate in war. Too great a risk to their pompous selves I guess. But there’s still a lot a mage can do without fighting. Healing, telling the weather, farseeing, and so on. Could be gold too. Running a war costs a lot of money and the Sanctuary has more of it than anyone. Borrow some money now and pay it off afterward with concessions the Sanctuary wants. One thing about the Veil, she plays the long game.”
Just then, Ben heard a familiar sound and looked up to see Amelie and Meghan speaking with one of the serving girls and looking his way.
“Ben!” shouted Amelie. She flew across the room to wrap him in a tight embrace. Meghan followed close behind.
“Meghan, Amelie, what are you doing here?”
Both girls began to talk excitedly at once before Meghan deferred and Amelie took the lead. “They let us out for a free day! We’re not due back until two bells after nightfall! Mistress Eldred came to the dormitory last night and told us we’ve progressed so well that we could leave the grounds. We found Rhys’ apartment this morning and he said you’d probably be here, so we came to find you.” She gave a long pause before finishing, “And here we are. Are you busy? Can you show us around? I don’t want to interrupt your business meeting.”
“Oh no.” Ben turned to Mathias. “This is my first customer and friend, Mathias. He runs this place. Of course I’ll show you around. Wow. I’m just surprised. Giving an extra free day doesn’t sound like the Sanctuary I know.”
“There was some talk of important visitors on campus so many of the classes were cancelled. I think we just got lucky,” said Meghan.
“Lady Amelie,” said Mathias with a deep bow.
“Yes.” Amelie blushed. “But I prefer not to talk about that here. Right now I’m just an Initiate at the Sanctuary like all of the others.”
“Of course,” replied Mathias. “You can trust me and that’s the last I’ll say of it. I was just surprised to hear you were studying at the Sanctuary. I figured Lord Gregor would want you home with all of this Alliance and Coalition business starting up. I can’t imagine he, or anyone else, would want you accidentally running into members of the Coalition.” Mathias looked to Ben and tilted his head slightly.
“Oh, I don’t think there’s any chance of that. Maybe I shouldn’t say this to a stranger, but if you’re a friend of Ben’s… I was at Whitehall in the Conclave when the Alliance pact was signed—I was one of the signatories. Lady Towaal was there as an observer from the Sanctuary. I can’t imagine anyone from the Coalition would come near here.”
Ben looked back at Mathias and quickly decided to keep silent about the rumors he’d shared. Amelie was a long way from home and none of them were close to the halls of power in this place. If this Mistress Eldred had sent Amelie away for the day, maybe it was for the best.
“Well, in that case, let’s go see the City!” Ben exclaimed with excitement that managed to sound only slightly forced.
During the previous few months, Ben spent much of his time working on his business in the cellar brewing and then ducking in and out of taverns to make sales calls. In his free time, he’d been with Saala and Rhys practicing the sword or the Ohms. Renfro spent a great deal more time exploring the City, but Ben didn’t feel like tracking him down for this.
“What do you want to see first? The sculpture gardens and the bone museum are the most famous. They say the theatres are the best in Alcott, but it’s a little early in the day for that. There’s also the pleasure pier or the tea houses on the east side. I haven’t been there much. I’m told it’s nice if you like tea. There are musicians in a few of the busier markets, but if I’m honest, I have no ear for music and I can’t tell you if they are any good. If you’re feeling adventurous, we could go up in one of the public towers and cross some of the sky bridges.”
“Whatever you suggest.” Amelie grinned. “We don’t know when we’re getting another free day outside the grounds, so let’s take advantage of it.”
“Let’s go to the sculpture gardens first then,” suggested Ben. “The Issen Consulate is on the way and we can pick up Saala.”
“The Consulate? Oh, please keep me away from that today,” begged Amelie. “Is there another way to get Saala? I do need to see him.”
“I know a back way in and I can get him. They’ve seen me there before.”
“You know your way around the Consulate building? Very fancy. You’re coming up in this world.” Amelie smiled.
Ben blushed. “Only because Saala is staying there. It’s not like I’m some highborn or something.” Ben winked at Meghan. “Now those people are fancy.”
Amelie rolled her eyes and started toward the door. “Let’s go see these sculpture gardens of yours. You know how us highborn get if we aren’t dazzled by artwork at least once a day.”
They picked up Saala at the Consulate building then bought some meat pies to eat while strolling through the gardens. Ben had come by once before and he was impressed again by the statues and the greenery surrounding them.
The gardens extended across
several blocks in a serpentine pattern. They were designed to be seen along a looping path that circled the park. The statuary had been commissioned from many artists over the years. It was all supposed to tell the story of the City. Some of the figures represented grand moments in history but some told everyday stories of the common folk. Several were made up of many pieces and a few could have filled a decent-sized building on their own. The oldest were little more than worn down lumps of rock with small brass plates detailing their origins—thousands of years before in a couple of cases.
In addition to the hard stone of the statues, the gardens were filled with a profusion of plant life. The gardeners put just as much care and attention into their creations as the sculptors had. Thickly planted bushes and deep green ferns gave the gardens a sense of privacy in the middle of the busy city. Tall wooden structures supporting bright flowering and hanging vines blended into the back drop of the City’s soaring towers. It felt like it was all part of the same tapestry.
The sculptures though were the highlight. The flora fell into the background and served as a pleasant accent to the history and artistry that unfolded around them.
“Here, Winged Victory,” said Saala as he pointed out a slightly larger than life figure.
It was one of the most famous works in the park, and a small crowd was milling around it. It depicted a headless and armless woman leaning forward, her garments flowing behind as if she was pushing against a strong wind. She had two expansive wings spread out from her back and one foot was set in front of the other in mid stride. It was remarkably realistic for a work of stone, but Ben saw immediately the reason it was famous was how the sculptor had captured the essence of the woman’s triumph.
“Breathtaking,” pronounced Amelie. She hung back from the work as if afraid it’d fade away if she drew too close.
“It’s very good,” replied Meghan, “but what is she supposed to be victorious over? Is this in dedication of some battle or something? I like some of the others better where it’s clear what is going on.”
“It could have been after a battle,” remarked Saala. “No one is quite sure. The sculptor and the reason behind the work have been lost through time. I’m not even sure the work was originally commissioned for display in the City. Many people think it was moved from somewhere else and that’s where it could have been damaged.” He gestured to the missing head and limbs.
“It’s powerful as it is now. I can’t imagine how beautiful it would be whole.” Amelie sighed.
“Less impressive, maybe,” offered Ben to a quizzical look from Amelie. “Think about it. What face could match the grandeur of the rest of the work? In your mind, you think about what expression the woman could have, you conjure the strongest woman you can imagine. The sculptor might have had something different in his head. Without the face, the work is a question as well as a story.”
“Maybe,” Amelie pensively admitted. “But still, I’d like to see what she looked like. Surely there must be records kept somewhere for something like this.”
“No written records exist from what I’ve heard at least,” replied Saala with a shrug. “Supposedly, not even the oldest of the long-lived remember anything other than this statue being right here. Possibly the Veil knows more, but who is going to ask her about it?”
It wasn’t until later that night, when the girls had gone back to the Sanctuary and he was tucked away in his cot, that Ben started to wonder what Saala had meant by ‘the oldest of the long-lived’.
Before that, they had a full afternoon exploring the City together. After the sculpture garden, they climbed one of the towers and spent a bell wandering the sky bridges. The bottom levels of the tower were dedicated to residences and about ten levels up, where the first bridges connected, it had shops that catered to people living in the tower. There were small grocers, apothecaries, taverns, and other places people would visit regularly.
After crossing the first sky bridge with its narrow wooden slats and slight swaying when the wind blew, Ben shakily declared he needed a drink. They settled down at a large tavern which took up an entire floor in the next tower. Tall windows were left open to catch a cross breeze that made it much more pleasant than the street-level venues Ben normally visited.
“How’d you like to carry your kegs all the way up here?” teased Saala. He lifted his small glass in toast. “To Ben’s successful brewery, and to our two Initiates who’ve finally gained enough trust to be let out of sight for a day!”
Ben and the girls raised their glasses as well.
They were drinking a clear liqueur with squeezes of juice from the sour yellow and tangy green fruits Ben saw in the Initiates garden. The liqueur packed a punch, but with the juice, it was a refreshing combination and perfect for the hot day.
With a little liquid courage, Ben was able to enjoy the sights from the bridges and appreciate the massive scale of the City. From the higher vantage points, the island spread out below them in an organized swirl of streets, parks, and buildings. Unlike Whitehall or Fabrizo, which grew up naturally, the City was planned. The result was a clean, sensible, and beautiful design, but it lacked the spontaneity and excitement of the other cities.
From the bridges, the people filling the streets below looked like tiny bugs scurrying about their day, but to Ben, the most amazing part was the forest of towers that rose around them. The time and energy involved in creating the structures staggered him, particularly when he thought about the boundless open land just a day or two’s journey away from the island.
He mentioned it to Amelie as they stared down from one of the sturdy masonry bridges and she responded, “People like being near other people.”
“But look at this,” he said gesturing to the nearby towers. “A lot of these people live in tiny apartments that they can barely afford. Their kids have nowhere safe to play and they’re always looking over their shoulders at what the neighbors are doing. They could sell their places here and move out to the country where they’d have a roof over their heads and more than enough land to raise crops and support themselves.”
Saala smiled and countered, “But that’s all they’d have, which is better than good for a lot of folks. These people, though, they want more. They want excitement, they want entertainment, and most of all, they want to win some imaginary competition that they all play with each other. That’s the culture of this place, it’s what makes them feel good. They’re all looking over their shoulders because they compare themselves to their neighbors, and in some way, they want to win. More wealth, a better view from their apartment, famous friends, secret knowledge, and of course, power over others.” Saala shrugged. “Having enough just isn’t enough for some people.”
Amelie wrapped an arm around Ben’s waist. “You’re a simple man, Ben. Which is to say, a good man. One who knows himself and knows what he wants. Not everyone does.”
“I don’t think I always know what I want,” replied Ben as he felt Amelie’s arm around him.
“You do. You just don’t know it yet!” Saala laughed.
The night ended at The Flying Swan Inn with Mathias personally suggesting and serving his favorite dishes. Mathias’ first love was ale, but he had a knack in the kitchen as well. He brought out heaping plates of food for them to share. It wasn’t the fancy fare they’d eaten on their journey in Fabrizo or Whitehall, but it was good, and it fit.
“So, tell me about my investment. Going well I hope?” Amelie jokingly asked Ben.
“It is going well,” said Ben. “Mathias here is my first and best customer, but we’re expanding across town. We had to hire two full-time porters to keep up with deliveries. I’m worried we’ll need more in a few weeks. I’m making a trip off the island tomorrow to look for additional materials. I hear they’re cheaper if you’re willing to walk a bit.”
“Really?” broke in Meghan. “You never needed help like that in Farview. I just… I thought you were going to be doing the same thing here.”
“It is the s
ame thing. It’s still ale,” replied Ben sardonically. “There are just a lot more people here to drink it.”
“I’m so proud of you!” exclaimed Amelie. “I’ve heard the City is a tough place to do business and I think it’s just great you’re doing so well.” She looked to Saala. “Why didn’t you tell me it was going so well? You’ll be a major player in no time Ben!”
“Well, I don’t know about that.” Ben replied with a grin. He thought back to the conversation earlier in the day about having enough. It seemed everyone from Renfro to Amelie now was pushing him to keep expanding. Every time they added a new customer or hired someone, it was a little more work, and a little less free time for him.
“Keep your respect for the craft, enjoy what you do, and the business will take care of itself,” advised Saala. He knew what Ben was thinking. “You’re young still and you have options. This is just one of them. It will feel less like work if you think about it as exploring an option.”
The next day, Ben, Renfro, and their two porters made the trip off island to buy more wooden kegs. By asking around over the course of a few weeks, they’d found a cooper who only charged half of what they were paying on the island. Ben figured with those savings they’d be able to put away some of the gold and silver they were bringing in instead of pouring it all back into the business.
“We should be in the business of selling empty kegs,” grumbled Renfro as they helped the porters pull two overloaded handcarts up a short hill.
Ben laughed. “It’d certainly be easier than hauling around the loaded versions.”
Martin, one of the porters, grunted in assent.
At the top of the hill they paused to catch their breath. “I really think we’re going to need to hire some more men once we fill these up,” said Renfro. “Poor Martin over there is going to collapse on us one day.”