Benjamin Ashwood Series: Books 1-3 (Benjamin Box)

by AC Cobble

  Then they all heard it—the sharp bark of a dog followed quickly by more. It was a pack of them, and it sounded like they were on the trail of something.

  “Oh damn,” groaned Ben. “We run.”

  If this estate was the same size as the others, they were only halfway across, a quarter bell at the pace they had been maintaining. The dogs would be on them before that. They started at a flat run but slowed when they realized they couldn’t keep that up for long.

  The barking drew closer and Ben got nervous. He and Mathias were both armed with swords, so even against a large pack, they might be able to defend themselves, but the dogs would bring guards. Even if they were able to fight off the guards, just being seen could ruin their chances of escape. A word in the wrong ear and the Sanctuary would suspect it was them. They would blanket the area with troops, hunters, or even mages.

  He glanced over his shoulder but couldn’t see anything yet. He couldn’t see the wall in front of them either.

  “Come on,” he urged, pulling ahead of the others. “We can’t get caught.”

  A look of determination painted Amelie’s face and she increased her speed. Mathias grimaced and kept up as well. Ben could tell it was taking a lot out of both of them.

  Before they saw the exterior wall, he spotted the first of the hounds behind them. It crested a hill almost a thousand strides back. It was coming fast. Ben estimated it was moving at least twice as quickly as they were.

  The hound accelerated when it caught sight of them.

  They poured on more speed and were back at nearly a full run. Packs and weapons bounced uncomfortably as they ran.

  The calls of the dogs rose and Ben knew the rest of the pack had seen them. He looked back again and saw the hounds were a large breed of short-haired hunting dog. It was difficult to be sure at the distance, but they might be half his weight and there were close to a dozen of them. If it came to it, the fight could go either way.

  Suddenly, Amelie shouted, “There! The wall.”

  Five hundred strides back, the hounds were closing quickly.

  Ben reached behind his back and pushed his pack to the side to free the hilt of his sword. They might make it. If they didn’t, he would have to be ready. He could fall back and protect the rear while Amelie climbed.

  Another look at the dogs and his heart sank. At the far hill, where he first saw them, he could now see pinpoints of light from lanterns or torches. The guards heard the dogs and were coming to investigate.

  “Move, move, move!” he extolled Amelie and Mathias.

  The wall was just one hundred strides away, but the dogs had pulled within two hundred strides. They were howling with excitement.

  At a full run, Ben’s companions made it to the wall. He swept his sword out and spun to face the approaching pack. One hundred strides back, they seemed to be flying toward him. Amelie and Mathias both hit the wall and started to climb. Amelie glanced back and yelled at Ben, “Don’t be stupid. Climb!”

  Ben grunted and turned to the wall. The dogs were within fifty strides now. He tossed his sword over the stone barrier then jumped to cling to the rough rock.

  Before he was halfway up, the first dog reached him and hurled itself into the air. Ben was able to swing his legs to the side and the poor creature smashed face first into the rock. It fell to the ground whimpering. The rest of the pack was just behind it.

  Mathias and Amelie were above him and had reached the top. They were struggling to hold a cloak over the glass shards before they climbed over.

  Ben gained another two footholds before he felt a hard tug on his pants leg that jerked his foot loose. He nearly went crashing down into the snarling pack, but was able to kick his leg free and haul himself up another arms-length.

  It wasn’t high enough. He felt a set of jaws clamp down on his tough leather boot before slowly sliding off when they couldn’t keep a grip.

  Mathias and Amelie swung over the wall and were hanging on the other side, ready to help Ben across.

  “Hurry Ben,” growled Mathias. “Lights are coming fast. They must know the dogs have something.”

  Finally, Ben reached the top of the wall, but his legs were still hanging halfway down and he felt his pant leg get caught again. In a flash of desperation, he surged upward, swung an arm over the top of the wall, and immediately regretted it. The glass shards dug into his forearm and sliced his skin as he continued the motion, hauling himself up and over. Another scrape cut into his side when he dragged his body across. He ignored the pain and scrambled over. Sharp glass was better than snarling teeth.

  On the other side, he dangled briefly before losing his grip and crashing down to the ground. He felt his ankle turn when he landed and he fell heavily on his side.

  Mathias and Amelie dropped down next to him. Mathias collected Ben’s sword and Amelie bent to help him up.

  “Can you move?” demanded Mathias. “Those guards will be at the wall in less than two minutes. They know someone was here. If they spot us…”

  Ben groaned and rose unsteadily to his feet. His eyes teared up when he put weight on his ankle, but it wasn’t broken, he could move on it. His arm and side were steadily leaking blood. There was no time to properly care for it. Amelie quickly pulled out a spare shirt and wrapped it around the bleeding arm.

  “We can’t leave a blood trail,” she murmured.

  “Hurry!” implored Mathias. “The first thing they’ll do is look over that wall and the second thing is alert whoever owns this estate. We have to get going, now!”

  Ben lurched forward and began a shuffling run across the grass. He clutched his wounded arm to his cut-up side to put pressure on both. A sharp jolt of pain ran up his leg every time he put down his twisted ankle, but Mathias was right—stopping now and getting caught meant being turned over to the Sanctuary and certain death.

  The night descended into a blur of pain and exhaustion. There was no thought of stopping or resting now. The guards they avoided may raise the alarm at all of the neighboring estates and everyone would turn out their barracks. Getting distance between them and where the disruption took place was their only hope.

  Each time they climbed another wall and dropped down, they were worried there might be another pack of dogs or worse waiting for them, but there was no other option. Moving forward was risky, but staying was inevitable capture. Bells later, Ben had lost track of time and was stunned when he saw the sun’s predawn glow lighten the sky. He paused, panting.

  Mathias and Amelie both came to an exhausted halt, looking around wildly.

  “We have to stop.” Ben wheezed. “If they’re searching for us or not, we can’t move through here in daylight.”

  “Behind us,” said Amelie, gasping for air. “There was a stand of trees behind us.”

  Mathias scanned the grounds around them. Much like the other estates, it was open grass lawn, areas of gardens, and small wooden structures. In full daylight, if there was a search, none of it offered anything close to sufficient cover.

  “The trees it is,” he rumbled.

  The three of them ran back then pushed their way into the thick stand of short trees. They wiggled into the tight undergrowth. Too tired to eat or think about the trail they were leaving behind them, they huddled close and quickly fell into a deep sleep.

  A sharp branch digging into his side edged Ben into wakefulness. He rolled over. The herbal scent of the undergrowth surrounded him. Underneath his body, a carpet of fallen leaves was as comfortable as a fine feather bed. For a pleasant moment, he drifted, half-awake. Quickly though, the dull pain in his arm and side dragged him awake.

  In the quiet, he surveyed his surroundings. It was afternoon. He lay beneath a close canopy of ferns and low bushes. Mathias and Amelie lay near him. Both were still resting. A now ragged and blood-soaked shirt was wrapped around his arm where the glass from the wall had cut him. He could feel his shirt stuck to his side near a shallow cut on his rib cage. All in all, it could have been worse. They were
alive.

  His stomach growled. Ben realized he hadn’t eaten since the middle of the previous night, before they encountered the dogs and had to run. His pack was within reach and he dug out a crust of bread and hard wedge of cheese. He sloshed a drink from a half-empty water skin and thought they would need to find fresh water today. It was likely the least of their problems.

  His gnawing hunger sated, he sat up. Brushing vegetation aside, he wiggled to a clearer area in the thicket. With a pained grimace, he unwrapped the ruined shirt from his arm, yanking it free from where dried blood glued it to his skin.

  He had several cuts along his forearm including two deep ones that oozed blood with the release of pressure from the shirt. A thorough washing and a few stitches of thread and he would be okay. If he was going to bleed out from the cuts, it would have already happened the night before.

  Checking these injuries earlier probably would have been prudent. He rewrapped it as best he could and decided to wait for help before he tried to stitch the gashes with one hand.

  He bent his ankle to test it and winced at a spike of pain. A light sprain. It wouldn’t be pleasant, but he thought he could walk on it. He searched through his pack for an extra pair of britches and used his hunting knife to cut strips to bind the ankle. The extra support would be worth having only one change of clothes left.

  Before long, Amelie and Mathias woke and they all crawled into the small open space Ben found in the middle of the thicket.

  Silently, using only gestures, they also ate. Amelie tended to Ben’s arm. Despite him trying to wave her off, she used a third of their water to wash it then pulled some thread from his shirt and a needle from her pack. He cringed and tried not to jerk his arm away when she threaded six quick loops into his skin. Her apologetic look said she knew it was messy, but on the run and with nowhere to turn to, they didn’t have a better option.

  She ran a hand over his arm and he felt a slight tingle. A look of concentration grew on her face and she stared down at the cuts. A warm sensation spread across his skin. He clamped a hand down on hers. Magic. She was trying to use magic to heal him.

  He leaned close and whispered in her ear, “It hurts, but I’ll survive. I can walk with this. I can run if we have to. Don’t waste your energy. You’ll need it tonight.”

  She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him tight. He could feel tremors in her body but her arms felt strong. She was scared and determined.

  Over Amelie’s shoulder, Ben saw Mathias give him a nod. Last night was just the beginning. If they were going to make Whitehall, they needed to be mentally prepared. The mages, the most powerful force on Alcott, wanted them dead. Nothing about this was going to be easy.

  Twilight fell and they felt confident enough to venture out to the edge of the thicket. Nothing was there besides open grass and flower gardens in the distance, just like they’d seen at other estates the night before.

  With no one in sight, they risked speaking.

  “I hate to say it, but I’m not sure this is going to work,” started Mathias. “There’s too much risk. If one place had them, then other estates might also have dogs. We stirred them up last night, so it’s possible there could be guards on patrol as well. If they’re on alert, then they’ll see us. There is no cover through here.”

  Amelie frowned. “What do you suggest? We sank the boat before we left Reinhold’s. Even if we stole a boat, they’ll be watching that way. It’s crazy to try the river. The road is even worse, it’s wide open.”

  “East,” answered Mathias. “We cross the road and head east away from the river.”

  “There are mountains to the east and not much else,” complained Ben. “That’s rough going. It will slow us down. We’d make a third of the distance each night. We’d have nowhere to get food and supplies.”

  Mathias cracked his knuckles. “You are right. It will be tough going, and we may run short of food, but we can’t stop for food and supplies anyway. The road and river aren’t worth considering, and the estates are too dangerous, so what else does that leave us? If we get in the mountains, there is no way the Sanctuary can cover all routes. We can come back to the river at Kirksbane and figure out a way to go through the Sineook Valley. It’s the only thing I think may work.”

  Ben and Amelie contemplated silently. Neither liked the idea of going into the mountains, but Mathias was right. Starvation was a possibility, but the mountains gave them a chance.

  They waited until nightfall then started moving again.

  Exiting the estate was nerve wracking. After the night before, they proceeded cautiously. They imagined a legion of guards over every hill. Each bird call or insect noise brought back memories of the howling dogs.

  Whether it was luck or not, they made it to the exterior wall of the grounds with no encounters. The wall followed the north road that started in the City and extended through all of the grand estates. West of the road was the river and the lord’s palaces. East of the road was also property of the lords, but it was rougher. It was typically used for hunting or vineyards, whatever passion the lord tasked his servants with pursuing.

  At the wall, Ben grimaced at a twinge of pain in his arm but fought through it to pull himself to the top. He peeked his head over. The well-maintained road extended both ways in the moonlight. Across the empty road, a similar wall passed north and south as far as he could see.

  “Looks clear,” he called down to his companions, and then rolled over the top. The cut on his side tugged. He worried it broke open again. Luckily, there were no glass shards sticking out along the top of this wall.

  He realized he probably should have checked that before rolling on it.

  Cursing himself, he clambered down the other side. Amelie and Mathias followed behind him.

  They crossed the road without seeing a soul, quickly scaled the opposite wall, and dropped down behind it. Rows and rows of grape vines climbed away from the wall, up a hill, and out of sight in the pale moonlight.

  Bell after bell, they hiked through narrow dirt rows, ripe grapes hanging on either side. Ben limped along on his tender ankle, but the pace they set was slower than the previous night. They were still eager to get distance between them and the City, but the chances of being spotted in the vineyard were low. They risked quiet conversation as they walked.

  “Do you think they’ll try to find us?” asked Ben. “Saala, Rhys, Renfro…our friends.”

  “I don’t know,” answered Amelie. “Saala would try to find us if he could. He’s loyal to me and my family, but what will the Sanctuary tell him? If he thinks we’re dead, he’ll have no reason to look. Renfro, I don’t think he’ll come looking. As for Rhys, well, Rhys is one of them, isn’t he? I know he doesn’t always agree with what they are doing, but he’s part of the Sanctuary.”

  “No,” growled Mathias, shaking his head. “He is not part of them. He has no loyalty to that place. I can’t say Rhys has always been a good man, but he is loyal man, to his friends at least. He’ll leave the Sanctuary and not look back. If he has reason to suspect we’re alive, that is, and if he knows where to look for us.”

  “You’ve known him a long time, haven’t you?” asked Ben, brushing a fragrant grape vine out of his way as they walked.

  “Many, many years,” affirmed Mathias. “We served together when I was a greenhorn recruit and fresh off the farm. We were part of an expeditionary force up north. He took me under his wing and taught me just about everything I know about fighting and staying alive. It’s rough and dangerous country up there. Half of us didn’t make it back from that first expedition. I owe him my life more times than I can count.”

  “How is that possible?” wondered Ben. “Rhys is at least ten years your junior, isn’t he? He looks like it at least. Is there some secret to youth in all of that ale?”

  Mathias smirked. “Rhys looks the same age today as he did back then.”

  “He’s a long-lived!” exclaimed Amelie.

  Ben blinked in confusion. Long-
lived were a myth.

  “Aye, that he is,” answered Mathias. “He doesn’t like to talk about it much, and he’s never told me everything, but he’s been around a long, long time.”

  “What does that mean?” queried Ben, curiosity fighting through disbelief. “I thought the long-lived was just a story. Is it magic? Is he some sort of creature?”

  “Not exactly magic,” replied Amelie. “From what I understand, the long-lived start out as normal people, just like you and me, but over time, they have gained expertise and achieve a level of control that is beyond us—control over themselves, control over their surroundings. That control, it allows them to regulate their bodies in ways that begin to seem like magic. It takes enormous will, certainly, and that is a lot like magic. The long-lived can arrest the natural aging process. I don’t understand how it’s done exactly, but mastery in a skill is the key.”

  “That sounds right with what I’ve heard,” agreed Mathias. “It’s typically something like mastering the blade or, of course, actual magic.”

  “Of course.” Amelie nodded. “The most famous long-lived, and one of the few who is public about it, is the Veil. The current Veil has been ruling the Sanctuary for three hundred years.”

  Ben stopped walking. “Three hundred years! She has been alive for three hundred years?”

  Amelie paused beside him. “Longer than that, I would think. That’s as long as she’s had the job. Getting the necessary respect of the other mages must have taken at least that long, if not longer. Her age is something the Sanctuary uses to show their power, but they don’t exactly share the details.”

  Ben looked to Mathias. “How old is Rhys, then?”

  Mathias shrugged. “He never told me. Come on. Let’s keep moving. They don’t have the dogs on us tonight, but I’d like to make it out of these vines before daybreak when the workers start showing up.”

  “Wait,” urged Ben, starting after Mathias. “The control—how is it achieved?”

  Mathias grinned and rubbed a hand over his bald head. “I haven’t figured that out yet. I’ll let you know when I do.”