Benjamin Ashwood

by AC Cobble

  In the garden, Meghan and Amelie had not yet arrived so Ben strolled around watching the other initiates and visitors out of the corner of his eye. The guard presence here was increased also. There were two of them now as opposed to one. They both seemed bored and uninterested and were playing some sort of head to head card game.

  Despite his watchfulness he was almost surprised by Amelie when she came up behind him.

  “Ben, when did you get here? I’m sorry I wasn’t out earlier. Usually you come half a bell later.”

  “Oh, I haven’t been here long,” he started. It was hard to drop the polite conversational conventions. He took a deep breath and started again, “I came early because I was worried. Speaking of which,” he peered around behind Amelie, “where is Meghan?”

  “She studying” griped Amelie. “She doesn’t do much else these days. We have a test later this week and that’s all she’s concerned about right now. Lady Towaal is briefly in town and has taken time to personally tutor her. It’s rare we get time with a Mage other than our assigned instructors. I’m sorry Ben. I’m sure if it wasn’t such a big test she’d be happy to come see you.”

  “No, that’s alright. I’m just glad she is Ok.”

  “What do you mean?” questioned Amelie. “Why wouldn’t she be Ok?”

  “I heard there is another girl that might not be.” He looped his arm in Amelie’s and led her away from the guards and other people in the garden. “Issabelle?”

  He caught Amelie as she nearly stumbled. She hissed, “how did you hear that name? I don’t think it’s a good idea to speak about her here. Or outside of here either.”

  “Her brother,” he quietly responded. “He came to find me.”

  “Oh,” said Amelie and she covered her mouth with her free hand. “I didn’t know she had a brother. “Why, how did he find you?”

  “He hasn’t been able to reach her and no one is talking to him so he followed me back from here one day. He said it took him a week to work up the courage to ask me to find out what happened. He’s looking over his shoulder and afraid of talking to anyone.”

  “I don’t think he needs to be afraid,” she sighed, “but then again, maybe he should be.”

  “You do know her then. What happened to her?”

  Amelie carefully scanned the garden to be sure they were out of range for anyone to hear them. “You musn’t speak to freely about this. Not even in front of Meghan. The Sanctuary wouldn’t look kindly on it and they deal harshly with those who upset them. But if he’s her brother, he has a right to know.”

  She continued, “not all of our tests are in books, Ben. As we’ve spoken about, there are two parts to being a Mage. One is Knowledge. We are tested on that regularly. There are examinations, essays, debates and other things that aren’t so different from what my father’s tutors had me do as a child. The other part, Will, is tested differently. Sometimes it can be dangerous to not pass the tests.”

  “Dangerous. How?” asked Ben.

  “Things can happen when your Will breaks. It might be a short depression that you quickly get over. Sometimes it’s worse. In the very worst cases, someone may not want to go on living.” She looked at Ben out of the corner of her eye and he knew Segor’s worst fears had come true.

  His grip tightened on her arm, “you and Meghan are taking these tests too?”

  “Don’t worry. Both Meghan and I are strong willed. It is hard, very hard, but we both have a natural ability for this sort of thing. Issabelle was a sweet girl, but she was not made to be a Mage. She shouldn’t have been here. Once Issabelle realized it, it was too late for her to leave. I know you must tell her brother something. Tell him it was a terrible accident. The less he knows, maybe it will be better for him. He needs to stop asking questions.”

  “Why, what will happen to him?”

  “The Sanctuary doesn’t like to admit failure. A girl like Issabelle should have been let go by the instructors before… before what happened. They made a mistake or even worse, maybe they knew. These kinds of things are kept behind the walls. If this brother wasn’t told a story or paid to vanish, well, he must not be someone they consider important enough to bother with. He must not be someone they think would be missed. Ben, you know Rhys and what he does. Not everyone who works for the Sanctuary is a nice person.”

  Ben was sickened at the thought his friends may participate in this kind of thing. If this girl Issabelle knew the risks and took them, he could understand that. But keeping it from her brother, it just didn’t make sense.

  “Are you saying that they’d hurt her brother if he knew about this?”

  “Not if he knew about it. If he spoke about it. Really, I don’t know what they would do. I just know what they are capable of doing. You do too. Think about Lord Frederick in Whitehall and what happened to him. If it was something that mattered to the leaders here, like the reputation of the Sanctuary, there is nothing they would stop at.”

  He managed to leave without further encounters with the guards and breathed a deep sigh of relief when he turned his back to the scowling faces on the copper gates.

  The City swirled by in flashes of movement and color as he walked but his thoughts were moving even quicker. He felt terrible for Issabelle and Segor but there was nothing he could do. Meghan and Amelie though were still at risk. He wracked his brain trying to think of anything he could do to help them.

  Crossing the bridge off of the island to the bank where their new warehouse sat, he saw a small boat drifting the in the shallows. A ragged fisherman was hauling in a net and Ben saw when he lifted the tangle of twine out of the water that it was empty.

  He passed over the bridge and his mood soured further. There had to be something he could do. Amelie seemed unconcerned about her own safety but that’s the way she always was. The rumors of secret meetings, what happened to Issabelle and even his friend Rhys. Everything he learned about the Sanctuary pointed towards it being a place he didn’t want Amelie and Meghan involved with.

  “Ben, come on!” A shout startled him out of his winding thoughts.

  Renfro was leading two of the porters, Evan and Red, up the street towards him. They were hauling an empty handcart and were moving quickly.

  “One of the carts broke a wheel and we have 5 kegs sitting unattended down by the granaries,” huffed Renfro.

  “The granaries?” Ben was trying to comprehend what Renfro was saying.

  “We made a sale to a dive down there earlier this week. It’s a rough area Ben. If someone hasn’t already rolled off our kegs they’re probably sitting in the street drinking them. Come on!”

  Ben fell in behind Renfro and the porters and saw Red give him an odd look. The man was big, but unlike most of the porters, it appeared to be blubber instead of muscle. He was named after his wild spray of golden hued red hair that stuck up oddly and responded poorly to his constant efforts to pat it down. He was sweating profusely and nearly tripped forward into his cart when he saw Ben watching him.

  “Let’s get moving,” encouraged Ben with a friendly grin. Red never really fit in with the rest of their team and Ben felt bad for the man. He was regularly the target of rough teasing from the others.

  The granaries were towering stores for grains, beans and other foodstuffs and were all clustered along one section of the riverbank. No one typically lived or worked near them because the dust had a bad habit of exploding when a careless worker would introduce open flame in the enclosed spaces. During harvest times they were a hive of activity. During the other seasons it was quiet with just the occasional wagon of product being hauled off.

  “How did you find this place? I can’t believe there’s anyone down here who’d want to order five of our kegs,” asked Ben skeptically.

  They were surrounded by towering silos and bins and the hard packed dirt streets were deserted.

  “I didn’t find the place,” replied Renfro, “Red did. You think I’d be wandering around down here by myself? Evan, where did you say th
is wagon broke down? I don’t see anything or anybody around here.”

  “It wasn’t me,” mumbled Evan as he walked ahead to peer down a cross street. “Red told me someone lost a wheel down here.”

  Renfro turned, “Red?”

  The man stared straight ahead.

  “Uuaagh!” cried Evan.

  They all spun and saw a bald, thickset man standing over the prone porter. The man had a rag tied around the bottom half of his face and was holding a stout club.

  Suddenly, Red lifted the heavy handcart over his shoulder and swung it with all his might at Renfro.

  “Watch it!” yelled Ben.

  The cart crashed into the side of Ben’s little friend and sent him flying across the street. He landed in a heap but before Ben could run to check on him, another masked man stepped out also brandishing a club.

  “There were supposed to be two. The little thief and one employee,” growled the new man.

  Red quaked, “this one is the other owner. He saw us walking over here and followed.”

  The man met Ben’s eyes then menacingly raised his club. “Well then.”

  Without thinking, Ben smoothly swept his sword out of his scabbard and set his feet. There were three of them, but he had the superior weapon. Still, he thought, those heavy looking clubs would do serious damage.

  “Drop it son, and we’ll let you live. This is just supposed to scare you a bit. You want to get serious though,” the second masked man slapped his club against a meaty palm, “then we’ll get serious.”

  Ben waited.

  Red made the first move and charged, wildly dragging the handcart behind him. Ben rushed forward before Red could raise the cart, startling him and slowing his charge. The big man didn’t expect Ben to charge and didn’t move quickly enough to prevent Ben from smashing the hilt of his sword into the side of Red’s sweat streaked face.

  The two masked men weren’t surprised so easily and both were quickly closing when Ben stepped over Red’s limp body.

  He had heartbeats to observe their movement before they closed. The first man who’d assaulted Evan moved a bit slower and had a slight limp with his right leg. The second man was the more dangerous of the two. He carried his weapon like he had plenty of experience using it.

  Ben knew there was no use waiting anymore and rapidly side stepped several times to his right to put the first man between him and the second. The man grunted and pivoted, giving Ben an opportunity. While the man was still turning, Ben darted in and slashed at the man’s weapon arm. He felt his blade slice through flesh and the man screamed and flailed backwards, dropping his club.

  Splatters of crimson blood painted a dark pattern on the dirt streets.

  Without his club and injured, the man shouldn’t be much of a threat. He would live though. Ben hadn’t intended to kill him. He wasn’t sure who these men were or why they were attacking. By wounding one he hoped he’d be able to question him later.

  Renfro stirred in the street and Ben felt a trill of relief. The heavy cart had crashed hard into his friend.

  The second man shoved his companion out of the way and set himself to face Ben. He held his club upright with firm hands and the way he set his feet told Ben he was no stranger to combat.

  The injured masked man stumbled across the street to lean against the wall of a granary. He gripped his injured arm and blood leaked around his fingers in a steady flow. He was recovering from the shock but judging from the blood, it was a deep cut and he wouldn’t be returning to this fight.

  “What are you waiting for pup?” snarled the man.

  Without speaking, Ben held back and assumed a defensive posture Saala had taught him. The more the man talked, the more he might learn about what was going on.

  The man took half a step forward and paused, looking back at his bleeding friend and then at the unconscious Red.

  Suddenly, Renfro staggered to his feet and let out a curse, “I think the son of a bitch broke my arm!” The former thief used his good arm to yank out a small but razor sharp knife. His other arm hung limp and twisted at his side. “I’m going to cut that bastards throat and use him as fish bait.”

  “Shit Arnold, let’s get out of here,” barked the bloody man leaning against the granary.

  The second man, who must have been Arnold, glared at his companion then back at Ben. “I’d love to stay and finish this but my friend here needs to go. Follow us and I’ll crack your skull open.” He swished his weapon back and forth a few times as if to show he meant it then gestured to the still unmoving Red. “You can have him.”

  Both masked men started slowly backing down the street before getting nearly a block away where they turned and ran.

  Ben looked at Renfro who was angrily scowling at their backs and muttering foully under his breath.

  “You think I should chase them?” asked Ben.

  “No, I think they may turn and fight and that wouldn’t do us any good. The little I saw, he looks like he knows what he’s about. You probably couldn’t injure him like the other. You would have to kill him and we don’t need that.”

  “Well, we have him,” replied Ben and gestured to Red. “You weren’t serious about the throat and the fish bait, were you?”

  “Oh, I want to. Believe me, I want to.” Renfro stuck his knife back behind his belt with a cringe of pain, “but even more, I want to know what the hell just happened.”

  That evening their warehouse resembled a fortified camp more than the brewery it was. The former porter Red was still unconscious. The physician they brought in said he would survive. Renfro got a splint on his arm and bandages wrapped around his torso. It turned out he did have a broken arm and several ribs to go with it. He was ordered to lie and rest but instead he was stalking around the warehouse swilling from a skin of harsh liquor.

  Renfro would heal with little permanent damage but Evan was not so lucky. He passed shortly after they got him back to the warehouse. The physician said his skull was cracked by the blow and that he didn’t have a chance. The mood was somber but they had to understand what happened before they could take time to mourn Evan.

  Saala was still travelling for at least another month. Rhys had arrived quickly when he heard what happened. He gathered the details then helped Ben set up buddy systems and arms for their work force. They were sure Renfro had been the target of the attack but they didn’t know if it was directed at the business or him specifically. Until they knew more, no one was to move around alone and they would monitor the warehouse in shifts. Those with families were encouraged to bring them in or send them elsewhere for safety.

  Rhys was about to leave to investigate what he could at the scene when Lord Reinhold arrived.

  Reinhold marched up to the doors, which a porter quickly swung open, and walked in without slowing. He brought a heavily armed squad of guards who spread out around the building and disappeared down side streets. A few followed him in and casually started examining the entryways and windows.

  Reinhold saw Rhys and gave a hawkish smile. “I offer you a job and you turn me down. But when I really need it, I see you are here before me.”

  “Just here as a friend,” responded Rhys.

  “Very well. Your presence is appreciated.”

  Reinhold turned to Ben. “So, we are assuming it is our business that is under attack?”

  Ben shrugged, “I’m not really certain but I think it must be. The attack was planned and they used our own man to set us up. I wasn’t supposed to be there but they knew who I was. What else could it have been?”

  “Our partner,” he looked to Renfro, “has been known to be involved in under the table dealings. Despite that, being set up by our own man and continuing the attack against you, we must consider this an assault on all of us. You will have my full support in this. The warehouse will be watched by my men and any of our employees who wish it may stay at my barracks with their families. There is no better protection outside of the Sanctuary.”

  “The men w
ill be glad to hear that.”

  “I understand this Red is still unconscious. Is there anything we’ve been able to find out?”

  “Well,” Ben answered, “the attackers were masked and did not leave anything behind. All we know is that they know us and that one of them was named ‘Arnold’”.

  One of Reinhold’s guards politely coughed and the Lord scowled darkly. “I know,” he said to the guard. To Ben he continued, “I suspected of course, but it’s good to get confirmation. Arnold is one of Gulli’s thugs. He is well known to people who soon have their merchandise smashed, businesses burned and customers threatened.”

  “So it is Gulli!” exclaimed Ben. “I thought so as well. I was worried that it could be, uh, someone else. It didn’t seem like their style though. Do we go to the authorities now?”

  Ben breathed a sigh of relief. He knew it was irrational, but after the latest dealings with the Sanctuary he was worried they were behind this. It didn’t make sense of course, a Mage could easily wipe out him, Renfro and their entire warehouse. Gulli was dangerous, but he was a man just like the rest of them.

  “Who else would it be?” asked Reinhold quizzically but he kept talking without waiting for a response. “No, there is no use bringing the Watch into this. Gulli isn’t any better than a common criminal, but he is a Lord and that offers certain protections from the law. The name Arnold is definitely not enough for the Watch to even speak with him. Besides,” Reinold laced his fingers and glanced around the room, “sometimes these things are better settled outside of the law.”

  Engagement

  The next few days were both tense and boring. They continued to serve their customers and conduct normal business but unless necessary, no one left the protection of the warehouse. Even when making deliveries, Reinhold’s men went in force and provided support. They barricaded some entrances to the warehouse and added observation points on the roof. No one could easily approach without being seen. Racks of arms now stood by the door and squads of Reinhold’s men were always nearby.