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

by AC Cobble

  The seneschal bowed. “Lady, Lord Rhymer is beside himself with worry about what is going to happen to Northport. He understands Issen’s plight, but there is nothing he can do. He is sorry, but our resources are required here.”

  “What about King Argren?” inquired Towaal. “He has not sent men to Issen, but he knows Lord Rhymer well. Surely Rhymer has asked for aid?”

  Franklin shook his head sadly. “King Argren is solely focused on the Coalition. My lord travelled to Whitehall and tried to explain the situation, but left frustrated. Argren kept mentioning the attack at Snowar, which I believe you are well aware of. Argren refused to acknowledge the difference. It is his belief that he handled Snowmar, and Rhymer should handle the Wilds. He actually asked my lord to send more troops to Whitehall, if you can believe it.”

  “You said a mage was here before us,” remarked Towaal. “Is the Veil willing to offer support?”

  Franklin looked back at her. “You tell me.”

  Towaal grimaced. “I am not on the best terms with the Veil at the moment. Surely, you spoke to the mage about this when she was here?”

  “The mage, Lady Anne,” grumbled Franklin. “We raised our concerns several times with her and she promised to look into it. Instead, she left abruptly in the middle of the night with no word on where she had gone. We finally found a messenger who arrived shortly before her departure. The man had delivered a sealed envelope he was given in Kirksbane. He didn’t know what was in it, but he said there was a terrible incident right before he left. Scores killed and a dozen buildings burned to the ground. A mage battle was the rumor, the messenger said.” Franklin shrugged. “We can only assume that is why she left.”

  Ben met Amelie’s eyes.

  “Yes, I believe Lady Anne would have left after hearing something like that,” murmured Towaal.

  “You know her?” asked Franklin. “Will she tell the Veil about our plight? Do you think the Veil will send help?”

  Towaal frowned. “Lady Anne could be distracted by…whatever happened in Kirksbane. Even if she is not, it will take her over a month to reach the City and even longer for help to return here. Before that, of course, she would need to gather mages or arms men. Three months would be optimistic.”

  Franklin paced back and forth in their small sitting room. “We don’t know where else to turn!” he exclaimed.

  “Give us time,” advised Towaal. “We need to think. Maybe there is another solution.”

  The seneschal nodded curtly and departed.

  “Well, this trip got depressing quickly,” quipped Rhys, but no one was in the mood for his banter.

  Late that night, long after the twelfth chime of the bell and the start of a new day, they finally put the books down and considered what they had learned.

  Both the Librarian and Lord Rhymer were correct, there was not much more included in the books that they didn’t already know.

  “The Rift, I believe, is tied to the physical object of the gateway,” said Lady Towaal. “The Librarian would not understand this, but the runes used on the stone are what facilitate the opening between the worlds. It is just like the other magical devices I have seen. Because of that, I believe it can be destroyed. That would likely restore the location to the same risk of demon generation as anywhere else in the world. Stemming the tide of new demons coming into this area would greatly assist Lord Rhymer and Northport but would not guarantee their safety. The demons already in this world still need to be dealt with. That is not going to be to an easy task.”

  “What would happen elsewhere in the world?” asked Amelie.

  Towaal shrugged. “I do not know. There is no factual information in these books about it. My instinct tells me that the frequency of demon generation in random locations would increase, but it’s possible that is a safer scenario for the world. Individual demons are dangerous but can always be eradicated. A swarm of hundreds, on the other hand, is an incredible problem.”

  “What about the Purple?” asked Ben. “If they were created to protect the world from this risk, could they know more?”

  “Yes, if we could find them,” answered Towaal, “but I do not know where to start. If the organization still exists, then I would think they would have already surfaced here.”

  “Whether they exist or not,” brought up Amelie, “is irrelevant.”

  “Did you learn that word from the Librarian today?” whispered Ben.

  Amelie shot him a dark look then finished her thought. “We don’t know where the Purple is or how to look for them. We would likely be wasting our time if we tried. We must proceed as if they no longer exist.”

  Lady Towaal laid her quill down next to the notes she had been writing and listened.

  “If the Purple no longer exists,” declared Amelie, “and the Sanctuary is not offering assistance, then we must assume Rhymer and his men are the only force capable of containing the demon threat.”

  They all nodded, agreeing with Amelie’s line of reasoning. She was following a clear, logical path.

  “If Lord Rhymer’s men are the only force capable of containing this,” she continued, “then he will not release his men to help my father and Issen, no matter what we tell him, if we even feel comfortable asking for help after this. It is becoming clear to me that Northport is in just as bad shape as Issen. If Northport falls, then all of Alcott could be in danger.”

  “I do not believe Rhymer or anyone in Northport has the ability to close the Rift,” stated Towaal. “It is a magical device, and it will require magic to destroy it. If the Sanctuary does not have help on the way…” Lady Towaal trailed off. The rest of them could complete her thought.

  “What are we saying?” asked Ben. He paused, swallowing a lump in his throat. “Are we saying we will try to close the Rift?”

  They all looked at each other. It was crazy, but what other options were there?

  Rhys spoke up, “I suppose I will play the other side of this. Isn’t it a more realistic choice to go to Whitehall and talk Argren into sending his men to Issen, or to Northport for that matter? I know he has been reluctant to do it, but Gregor and Rhymer are his banner men. He’s losing face with the rest of them by not giving support.”

  Amelie and Towaal both shook their heads.

  “As we said before,” the mage stated, “he didn’t send them before he knew about the Sanctuary’s betrayal. With that information, I’m not sure how we could convince him to send men anywhere now. He’s a powerful man, but a paranoid one as well. With the Coalition on one side and the Sanctuary on the other, he will keep his forces nearby.”

  Amelie nodded in agreement.

  Rhys shrugged. “It was worth mentioning.”

  “Let me summarize what we know,” said Lady Towaal, ticking items off on her fingers. “First, we believe that destroying the gateway will disrupt the Rift. Second, destroying the Rift, while possible, may be easier said than done–we are not certain of its location. Third, Lord Rhymer will not divert his attention from Northport while the demon threat exists. Fourth, Argren is unlikely to be of any assistance. Fifth, we are not aware of any new options to get assistance to Issen.”

  Lady Towaal clenched her fist and finished. “Lastly, we do not know what unforeseen consequences disrupting the Rift may have for the rest of the world.”

  Amelie, stone-faced, raised another point. “By closing the Rift to help Lord Rhymer and Northport, we may be saving a great deal more. The Librarian described a scenario where the demons feasted on over half a million people in Northport. That would be unprecedented, right? Can anyone predict how powerful the demons would be? If we accept the demon threat is real, can we turn our backs on this?”

  Ben, feeling left out, asked, “Do we even know how to close the Rift?”

  “With this,” declared Amelie. She placed the rune carved wooden disc she took from the Sanctuary onto the table. “We don’t close the door. We smash it.”

  Lady Towaal leaned forward and traced a finger over the object. �
�This is what you took from the laboratory? I believe it will be sufficient.”

  The next morning, they informed Lord Rhymer and seneschal Franklin of their decision. They would travel into the Wilds, attempt to locate the Rift, and destroy it. It was left unsaid what would happen after. They all knew that even with the Rift closed, the demon threat was substantial. There was a very real risk that Rhymer’s forces would be unable to defeat them. They would cross that bridge when they came to it.

  Franklin argued for them to wait one more day to gather food, clothing, and other necessary equipment to brave the Wilds. He also suggested sending soldiers with them, but Rhys declined the offer.

  “More people will draw more demons to us,” explained the rogue. “We’ll be better served by stealth. We have sufficient skill to survive an attack by a small number of demons.”

  Rhymer objected. “Four of you are not enough! And of that four, you have a half-trained boy and a former initiate mage. You need more swords.”

  Rhys shook his head.

  “What about hunters?” offered Franklin. “A few extra bodies shouldn’t draw much attention. With their skills, they could make a difference.”

  Rhys and Lady Towaal shared a look. The rogue shrugged. She asked, “Do you have someone in mind? Someone you trust?”

  “This is important. I believe more important than anything else we could devote resources to. I do have someone in mind. Someone I would trust my life with,” answered the seneschal. “I will send them to your rooms later today.”

  The rest of the day they spent packing and organizing their gear. Rhymer suggested they go back to the library and ask for additional insights, but once they got back to the room, Towaal decided not to. The man had not been helpful, she explained, and they needed the time to get prepared.

  The Wilds were like any wilderness, with two added risks—the cold and the demons. For the cold, Rhymer sent ample supplies, winter gear, and broad, paddle-like shoes.

  “What is this?” asked Ben, holding one of them up.

  “Snowshoes,” answered Rhys.

  “I don’t get it,” muttered Ben.

  “You strap them to the bottom of your boot. The broad surface helps you walk on top of the snow. Trust me. Walking on top of it is better than trying to wade through it. This late in the year, there could be drifts that come above your shoulder. You spend your day trying to break through that, and we’ll never find the Rift.”

  Ben looked the snowshoe over again, then copied Rhys and tied it to the outside of his pack. He also had new fur-lined trousers and tunics, a heavy new cloak, boots that had been treated to be water resistant, and a hat with ridiculous-looking flaps that would cover his ears. Ben intended to let someone else put their hat on first before he risked looking a fool.

  One thing Ben realized they did not have was armor. He mentioned it to Rhys. “Should we have some protection? Maybe a helmet or some chainmail?”

  Rhys grinned at him. “Just wait until you get out there and see what we’re up against. The cold and the weight of that much metal will kill you during winter in the Wilds. We have to stay mobile and stay warm.”

  Ben frowned and went back to organizing his pack.

  At midday, a knock sounded on the door of their shared rooms. Lady Towaal opened it and found two heavily armed individuals on the other side.

  “Franklin says you folks could use our assistance,” called a sassy-sounding woman.

  Towaal nodded and let the pair inside.

  The woman had pale, freckle-sprinkled skin and long red hair that was pulled back into a pony tail. She wore tight fitting fur-lined leathers. A bow was slung over one shoulder next to a quiver full of arrows. On her belt hung two hand axes and Ben thought he saw a long dagger poking out from one of her knee-length boots. She swaggered with the confidence of someone who was sure in her abilities.

  A man entered behind her. He moved with a similar strut to the woman. It reminded Ben of two dogs showing off for a new pack. The man carried a dagger on one hip, a compact crossbow hung on the other, and across his back, he carried a massive bastard sword. He wore a tunic of leather-covered scales that draped down almost to his knees. His spiky black hair was barely held in place with a cotton headband.

  The woman introduced them. “Corinne and Grunt.”

  “Grunt?” asked Amelie.

  “Broke my jaw a few years back,” the man explained. “A bunch of assholes started calling me Grunt because the physic wired my mouth shut so it would heal. The only sound I could make was a grunt. It pissed me off, so I broke their jaws too. That was kind of funny, but the name stuck.”

  Corinne added, “I think ‘ironic’ is the word you’re looking for, Grunt.”

  The man grunted in response.

  “I am called Lady Towaal. This is Rhys, Amelie, and Ben,” said Towaal, gesturing to the companions.

  “You have a first name, Lady Towaal?” queried Corinne.

  “Not one you need to use,” answered Towaal.

  Corinne frowned.

  “Did Franklin inform you of what we intend to do?” asked Towaal, ignoring Corinne’s sour expression.

  Corinne nodded. “He told us. You’re looking for some ancient rock out in the Wilds. He wants us to escort you there and back.”

  “Yes,” agreed Towaal. “You should know our mission before you accept. We are looking for something called the Rift, and we intend to destroy it. We’re not certain we know exactly where it lies and there will be numerous dangers in the Wilds.”

  “Look, lady,” responded Corinne. “I was born in Skarston, about twenty leagues north of here. I was raised in the Wilds. I don’t know what this Rift is, but you don’t need to tell me about the danger. From what I understand, it’s you who doesn’t know what you’re getting into. Franklin said you’d never been past Northport.”

  Towaal smirked. “That is true. I have not been past Northport.”

  “Then let me explain some things to you,” scowled Corinne. “Because Franklin asked, I’m willing to lead this foolish expedition, but…”

  Towaal interrupted her. “If you come with us, you will not be leading. I will.”

  Corinne frowned back and looked around at the rest of the group. “You’ve got one swordsman,” Rhys mock bowed, “one boy, a girl who doesn’t look like she can use that worthless rapier, and yourself, who isn’t even armed. What exactly is your plan when you encounter a demon out there?”

  Amelie raised her hand toward Corinne and snapped her fingers. A brilliant spark burst into life between the two women. Corinne scrambled backwards, nearly tripping over a chair.

  “What was that!” she shouted.

  “Party trick,” replied Amelie with a smirk.

  “Seneschal Franklin was apparently remiss in telling you a few details about us and our mission,” said Towaal. “While we are not all swordsmen, or women, we do have a few tricks. Are you sure you want to go with us?”

  Grunt snorted. “He wasn’t remiss about the pay. We get you back here safely and there are one thousand gold coins for us to split. I don’t give a damn about what you’re going to do out there. For that much gold, I’ll take you out, help you capture a demon, and train it so you can ride it like a pony!”

  The man finished in a huff then crossed his arms, waiting.

  Corinne stepped forward again, eyeing Amelie out of the side of her eye, and agreed. “As Grunt says, the price is right. Also, my fa…Franklin, didn’t exactly ask. I’m going to have a little chat with how he explained this to me, but he’s sending Grunt and I because it’s dangerous, not in spite of the danger. You go in the Wilds these days, you’ll need us.”

  11

  Tracks in the Snow

  The next morning, Ben’s booted feet thumped down a set of stone steps, and he walked into an open courtyard. Heavy, steel grey clouds dropped a misty rain and a chill wind whipped it into a frenzy.

  The rain blew into Ben’s face. He blinked his eyes, trying to get his bearings in the b
usy cobblestone space.

  “Well, this is a pleasant day to start a journey,” muttered Rhys, who passed by and waded into the dreary morning.

  Corinne and Grunt were already outside, waiting for them.

  “Morning starts early in the Wilds,” chirped Corinne.

  “No need for the bluster, girl,” remarked Rhys. “I’ve been in the Wilds once or twice myself.”

  Rhys removed one of his ubiquitous silver flasks and took a quick sip. Corinne looked on frowning.

  “Keeps me warm,” explained Rhys. He offered the flask to Corrine, who waved it away.

  “You say you’ve been in the Wilds?” she challenged. “I know most of the hunters around Northport, but I don’t know you.”

  “Who says I’m a hunter?” Rhys covered a yawn with the back of his hand. “Anyway, what you mean is you know most of the hunters who are active around Northport these days. The world is a big place, and you haven’t been at this very long.”

  “I’ve been hunting demons for three years now, longer than most,” growled Corinne.

  Rhys took a final sip from his flask before putting it away. “This is going to be a long trip, isn’t it?”

  Ben thought it would help if they didn’t start the quest at each other’s throats, so he sidled up next to Grunt. The man was blunt, but seemed less prickly than Corinne.

  “How long have you been hunting demons?” inquired Ben.

  Grunt thought about it then answered. “About five years now.”

  “That’s a long time, isn’t it?” responded Ben. “Are you from Skarston too, like Corinne?”

  “I’m originally from Whitehall,” answered the hunter. “Served in the guards there but had a bit of a disagreement about a debt.”

  “You owed somebody money?” wondered Ben.

  “No,” Grunt replied. “Someone owed me. Things got a little heated one night and the guy got banged up a little. Well, pretty bad if I’m being honest. Turns out he was some minor lordling. I decided it was best for me to change the scenery.”