by AC Cobble
Hamruhg’s streets were cobblestoned, a welcome change after trudging through the muddy road outside. In short order, Rhys guided them down the boulevards and toward the port. The inns would be rougher there, but they’d also be good places for anonymous strangers.
The familiar sights and scents washed over Ben the closer they got to the port. He was stunned by how quickly he’d adjusted to the city when they first stepped within the gates. When they’d entered Fabrizo, his head had been swimming with the strangeness. Now, he’d lost that sense. Hamruhg was a bit different, but not that different from all of the others.
Hamruhg had red bricks, and Whitehall had pale limestone. Both of them held seedy taverns by the docks and merchant’s manses as far from the smell as they could get. Shops lined the first levels of the buildings and above them clustered apartments like in Fabrizo. People walked about, doing the same tasks and chores that they’d do in any city.
“You look deep in thought,” remarked Amelie.
Ben grinned at her. “Just thinking how strange it is that I’m so comfortable in a city now. A year ago, my jaw would be dragging on these cobblestones. I wouldn’t know what to look at next. Now, it seems so normal.”
“That’s what I find strange too,” responded Amelie. “It does feel normal, doesn’t it? This is one of the oldest cities in the Coalition, the same Coalition that’s been hunting us, that conquered my home. When we fled the City, I would have called them evil. This place should feel different, I guess. Different from Issen, different from Whitehall, different from Northport or the City. These are just normal people though, going about their day.”
Ben didn’t know what to say.
“You two need an ale,” grumbled Rhys. He pointed to a squat brick structure. “There.”
A steep flight of stairs led down to a narrow door. The place hunkered below the more reputable businesses housed above it. In Ben’s experience, below ground taverns were never savory places, but Towaal was already stomping down the stairs. If it was good enough for her, Ben wasn’t going to complain.
He spared a glance above at the late winter sky. If they were lucky, in a few days, they’d be rocking on a boat on the open sea, a choppy sea if what he heard was true. He groaned and joined his companions in the darkness below.
Two days later, passage was arranged and they were gathering the last of the supplies they’d need for the voyage to the south continent. Four weeks at sea and then six across Ooswam to get to the nation of Qooten. Compared to what they’d been through, it didn’t seem that long a journey, but Ben couldn’t help thinking less than a year ago, he didn’t know these places even existed. Hamruhg may not feel different to him anymore, but he was certain the southern lands would.
Ben, Amelie, and Corinne were making one last attempt to secure supplies. Then they would be off to the ship to meet their companions. Rhys, Towaal, and Milo had already boarded that morning. Corinne was looking for supplies to fashion a new set of arrows. Ben thought it’d be easier to just purchase them from a fletcher, but he suspected she was trying to find something to do on the long sea voyage. Amelie was looking for blasting powder, fuses, and nails. She’d been inspired by the steel balls she’d manipulated in Northport. Those had been effective because of the force when thrown from a catapult. With more preparation, she thought she could achieve the same effect without a giant catapult, which would be inconvenient to lug around.
Ben was a bit nervous, thinking about sailing across the South Sea on a ship filled with blasting powder and an initiate mage trying to charge it. It was Amelie though, so he wasn’t going to say anything.
They’d already collected Amelie’s supplies and safely stuffed them into their packs. They were on the way to the fletcher’s street. Corinne claimed they’d get the best prices there. Ben scratched his head and shrugged. Buying raw goods from the same place you could easily purchase finished goods seemed strange, but he didn’t know where to buy shafts, arrows, strings, and steel tips in a big city.
The uneven cobblestones and heaps of red brick that made up Hamruhg stretched out in front of them. It was difficult to tell which street was which, but after stopping to ask several times, they thought they were headed in the right direction. At least, Corinne thought so. Ben wasn’t so sure.
“It’s just one more block, a bridge, then another block,” claimed Corinne.
Hamruhg was riddled with narrow canals that stuck out from the harbor district like spokes on a wheel. Small boats used them to carry heavy goods into the city, which may have been easier than a wagon or maybe just the way they’d been doing it for centuries. Ben liked the canals because when they were passing over a bridge, it was one of the few times he could get a little visibility in the city. Everywhere else, all he could see was brick.
They found the bridge where it was supposed to be, but after they got over it and down to the next block, they found themselves looking at row after row of potatoes and onions.
Frowning, Amelie glanced at Corinne. “I don’t think they sell arrows on this street.”
Corinne peered behind them. “Maybe we should have turned before the bridge?”
Ben looked back as well. He frowned also, but for a different reason. “I think I recognize that man.”
“Who?” asked Corinne.
“That one there,” answered Ben, peering through the crowd. “At the top of the bridge, with the brown cloak.”
Corinne shrugged. “I don’t recognize him.”
Amelie was staring at the man also. He was craning his neck, looking the opposite direction, trying to see over the shifting crowds.
“He looks familiar to me too,” remarked Amelie. “Maybe he’s from Issen. In the past, I was always seeing people I recognized, but I couldn’t put a name to their face. Comes with being highborn, I suppose. More people know you than you know them.”
“I’ve never been to Issen,” reminded Ben. “Besides, I… the Sanctuary! That’s where I know him. He’s a guard at the Sanctuary.”
“Why would he be here?” asked Corinne.
Ben didn’t answer. He grabbed her wrist and Amelie’s and tugged them away. He tried to quickly dart behind an onion stall but one of the girls bumped it and sent a stack of the fragrant vegetables tumbling.
“Hey!” shouted the onion vendor, storming around the cart to protect his produce.
Ben didn’t glance back. He kept moving, dragging the girls along and hoping to get lost in the crowd.
Amelie must have glanced back though because she tersely whispered, “He’s seen us.”
Ben groaned.
“Why would a Sanctuary guard be here?” demanded Corinne. “You don’t think… oh.”
Now the girls were right on his heels, dodging amongst the vendor carts and hurrying down the street. For several blocks, they ran as fast as the crowds would allow them, twisting through the streets, crossing bridges, and dodging angry Hamruhgians. They made it to an open square and Ben paused, looking around wildly.
“Where are we?” gasped Corinne.
“I’m not sure,” he admitted. It looked the same as every other street in the city, except this one held a stone fountain in the center. “I don’t think I’ve been here before.”
“We need to find a canal,” suggested Amelie. “We can follow it to the harbor.”
Ben nodded. “We passed one three blocks back, I think.”
Corinne shook her head. “We can’t go back. If that man is on our trail, we could walk right into him.”
Ben glanced at Amelie. She’d pulled out the prism Jasper had given her and the etched dagger they’d gotten from Samuel.
“What is—” he started to say.
“There!” Corinne hissed, pushing at the companions.
Ben didn’t waste time looking. He knew she must have spotted the guard. They fled. If the man was able to keep pace with them so far, they needed to either increase their speed or lose him. They ran down several more streets and then found a bridge.
&nb
sp; Ben paused atop it, glancing down at the water. “Damn! I can’t tell which way it’s flowing.”
“It doesn’t matter,” called Corinne, who was still moving. “If we lose him, we can get our bearings and then find the harbor.”
Ben grunted and charged after her. Getting separated could be even worse than the man catching up to them. He was, after all, just one man. They passed two more streets. Ben and Amelie had nearly caught up to Corinne when she slammed into a cloaked figure and went crashing down to the cobblestones.
The cloaked man glared at her.
Amelie leaned down to check on Corinne. “Are you okay?”
Corinne was staring up at the man then down at her hand. Suddenly, she started scrambling back. “He’s wearing chainmail!”
The man tossed his cloak back to reveal heavy chainmail and a broadsword. His hand clasped the hilt and he started to draw. Ben was faster. He shot forward and pounded his fist into the man’s face.
The armored man’s head snapped back and he stumbled before collapsing onto his back. Shaking his hand and hoping he didn’t break any bones, Ben reached down and hauled Corinne to her feet.
“Thanks,” she breathed. “That was a big man and an impressive punch.”
“I’m better at this than I used to be,” murmured Ben.
They turned to go.
More men were filling the street in front of them. They were dressed in plain travelling clothes, but it was obvious when seen together, these men were a military unit. There were half a dozen of them. They all had broadswords strapped to their hips.
Ben spun to run in the other direction, but he found four men waiting there.
Corinne yanked her hand axes off her belt. Taking her lead, Ben drew his longsword. Amelie held the small prism and the etched dagger. Her rapier was on the ship with their friends.
The soldiers drew their swords.
The wind was building in Ben’s head. If he caught them by surprise, he could knock down the half dozen men. Then, for a brief moment, it’d only be three against four. Not good odds when the four were wearing armor and had companions who could recover and charge from behind, but a lot better than trying to battle all ten of them.
Whispering to his companions, Ben advised, “I’ll slow the six of them. Be ready to charge the four.”
Grim-faced, the girls nodded. Ben raised his off hand and was preparing to send a burst of gale force wind into the men, but a cold voice rasped in his head. It was like sharp steel sliding across rough rock.
“Where are the others?” it asked.
The soldiers parted and a cloaked woman approached. They gave her more space than was necessary, and even from a distance, Ben could see the tension in their stances. These men would have preferred to face him and his mage-wrought blade than stand next to the woman.
Ben’s stomach churned when he saw a bright white mask peeking out from under a dark hood. It was Eldred.
“It is no matter. I will find them. Besides,” sounded the voice, “I have personal business to settle with you, Amelie.”
The porcelain mask turned, surveying them. That mask had given Ben nightmares for weeks after they fled Northport. Red lips, blush, and perfectly painted eyebrows only served to highlight that this was not normal. This was not right.
Amelie didn’t wait to hear anything else Eldred had to say. She swung her hand forward and a fist-sized fireball flew into the air, streaking directly at Eldred’s masked face. The mage didn’t even move. The fireball crashed around her harmlessly, sputtering into a swirl of heat and smoke.
“Is that it?” rasped the voice. “If you have more, do it. I will wait, but not too long. I want you to feel helpless, utterly helpless.”
Amelie growled, her eyes flashing brightly, but she didn’t attack again. Ben thought she might have something else up her sleeve, but clearly brute force was going to be useless against Eldred’s experience.
“Very well,” rasped the mage’s voice.
Blistering pain crawled over Ben’s body. It felt like his skin was on fire. His muscles and bones were frozen. His sword clattered to the cobblestones and he dropped beside it. Twitching like a freshly caught fish, he saw the girls were down as well, both afflicted with whatever Eldred was doing.
“I’m drawing the heat out from your body and focusing it on the exterior of your skin,” explained the mage. “It has two benefits. First, it causes a great deal of pain and seizures. Second, it renders your muscles frozen and helpless. If you cannot block it, there is nothing to do but lie there and suffer. Eventually, the core of your body will freeze. You will be irreparably damaged.”
Ben squeezed his eyes shut, but he could still hear. He heard the mage step confidently forward. If he could move his limbs, he’d reach for his sword. But he couldn’t control himself. He just lay there, jerking and twitching.
“You don’t have the skill to block this, do you?” hissed the mage’s voice. “A pity. I’d hoped to take my time hurting you, Amelie. I wanted to punish you for what you did to me, but now that I am here, it seems so pointless. You are weak, pathetic. Would I torment a bee that stung me, or would I simply crush it?”
Ben’s flicked his eyes open and saw the mage squatting beside his friend. She was examining Amelie, who was just as powerless as Ben to stop the mage’s attack. Ben involuntarily flopped onto his side, losing sight of the women. His back was arching. At the same time, his abdominal muscles were clinching. It felt like his body was tearing itself apart, and he couldn’t stop it.
The cobblestones were digging into his side while he thrashed across them. The cobblestones and something else, something small and hard, something circular. He gasped. The healing disc Jasper had given him. He could use its power to heal and maybe stop what Eldred was doing. If he could alleviate the pain, maybe he could reach his sword. Or, he had a better idea.
He stopped trying to fight the incredible pain assailing him. He let his body succumb to the agony. He directed his will into the disc and wished like nothing else that he’d ever wanted for that energy to flow into Amelie. He poured his soul into it, pushing with every fiber of his being for that energy to go to her.
He couldn’t tell if it was working.
Then, through the haze of pain, he heard the clatter of steel on stone. The waves of pain coursing through his body intensified, blocking out everything else.
Then the physical pain stopped. Ben drew a deep breath and lost it a heartbeat later when an intense pulse of agony spiked into his head. A terrible shriek blasted inside his skull, an awful wail that made the demon’s cries sound like the soothing babble of a mother to her baby.
“Run!” shouted Amelie.
He was barely able to process what her words meant, the shriek cutting through everything else. Base, animal instinct took over. His hand slammed down on his sword and he forced his eyes open. Amelie was kneeling, struggling to her feet. Corinne was lying on her back, staring at the sky, little shudders running through her body.
Eldred was stumbling back, the hilt of Amelie’s dagger, the one they’d gotten from Samuel, sticking out from her stomach.
A note of triumph stood against the agonizing scream of Eldred in his head. Ben struggled to his feet, dragging his sword up with him. Amelie was on her feet as well, moving faster than him and crouching beside Corinne. Ben lurched toward the mage, raising his sword with trembling arms.
“You can’t kill her with a sword, Ben. Run!”
Eldred’s mask turned to face him. Behind it, he thought she was grinning. She was still crouched over, gripping the hilt of the dagger. Smoky tendrils of shadow crept from the weapon to wriggle over her gloved hand. She glanced down at the questing smoke and tried to straighten, but the shadows held her, hunched over.
Ben swept his arm around and released a burst of wind at the mage. It’d been building with intensity ever since they were first surrounded by the soldiers. When he let it go, it was as if one of the Blood Bay’s brutal summer storms was unleashed down
the street. Dust, carts, goods, and people went flying. He didn’t wait to see what happened to Eldred. On shaky legs, he turned and stumbled after Amelie.
She’d managed to get Corinne to a sitting position, but the huntress was moving slow. Groggy, she didn’t seem to understand what was happening. Ben took one arm and Amelie the other. They dragged Corinne to her feet. Shuffling steps, with her hanging between them, they headed the opposite way of Ben’s windstorm.
The four soldiers who’d blocked their passage earlier were lying or kneeling in the streets. Like Corinne, they were struggling to recover from what Eldred had done. Ben realized she’d indiscriminately caught her own men as well as him and his companions.
They made it to a brick bridge and Ben spared a glance behind them. Several of the soldiers were on their feet now, but none were making efforts to pursue them, yet. Ben knew they had only moments before the men gathered their wits and began the chase. Further down the street, there was a mess of debris and dust clouding the air from his windstorm. There was no sign of Eldred.
They crossed the bridge and Ben took the next turn. He didn’t know if it was the right way, but it let them duck behind a wall of red brick buildings. They had to stay out of the soldier’s line of sight or it would be a short flight.
Corinne started to recover, helping put one foot in front of the other, but she was still weak. Ben’s heart rose until he realized that meant the men behind them would be growing in strength too. Three more turns and Ben saw a line of wagons loaded with goods and paused to catch his breath.
“We have to go, Ben,” gasped Amelie.
He nodded. “This way. Follow the wagons.”
“Are you sure?” she asked.
“They’re either going to the port or from it, and there’s only one way to find out.”
“You could stop and ask someone directions,” muttered Amelie.
Ben grinned at her and turned them down the worn cobblestone street, the opposite direction the wagons were moving. “Look,” he said, “spices. They’re coming from the port.”