Benjamin Ashwood

by AC Cobble

  The City’s Watch paid scant attention to the small bands of armed men roving the streets.

  “It’s not unusual for Lords to take matters into their own hands,” explained Rhys. “The privilege of having a Title. Normally it’s knives in the dark so it doesn’t make a mess in the streets and doesn’t disrupt Sanctuary business.”

  But despite their preparations, nothing happened.

  There were no more attacks and they found out Gulli appeared to have fled The City. Renfro crowed with success, “we ran the bastard off. He must have realized he bit off more than he could chew. We’re going to own this town!”

  Ben wasn’t so sure. Gulli knew before the attack that Reinhold partnered with them. The attack made no sense if Gulli was afraid of conflict with Reinhold.

  Ben exchanged letters with Amelie and Meghan and they expressed the expected shock and dismay at what happened and offered condolences for Renfro. Ben was looking forward to seeing them in person on the next Newday but finally that morning they got their first bit of activity. Red woke up from the week long coma he’d been in.

  “Water!” he called coarsely over and over again. They had trickled water into his mouth while he was unconscious to keep him alive, but now that he woke, they wanted him to be uncomfortable. He was locked in a storage room in the warehouse and they were waiting on Rhys to arrive to begin questioning him.

  When Rhys arrived he tersely asked, “how is he?”

  “He wants water and he’s alive. We haven’t asked him anything yet,” answered Ben.

  “Good. Come in with me and bring a water skin.”

  They entered the dimly lit storage room which was bare except for a pile of empty sacks they had laid Red on. The big man was huddled in a corner of the room staring remorsefully ahead.

  Rhys tossed the water skin down next to Red and drew one of his knives which he placed laying across his knees. He squatted down in front of the man.

  “You are welcome to drink as much water as you need while you answer our questions,” stated Rhys.

  Red snagged the skin and took a long drink before looking back at Rhys and shuddering. “I know who you are and I know what you do. I’ll answer whatever you need, but I don’t know much.”

  “You better know something,” growled Rhys menacingly.

  Red sighed and leaned his head back against the rough wall. “I have a problem. I like to gamble. Sometimes I go down to one of Gulli’s places, the Red Door. I, uh, I haven’t been doing too well recently. Maybe longer than just recently.”

  Rhys slid a finger along the blade of his long knife and nodded for Red to continue.

  “Well some men, I guess they are Gulli’s, they found me down there one night. Said they had a way I could wipe out my debt. All I had to do was get Renfro to a spot over by the granaries. That was it. I didn’t know what they were going to do, I swear!”

  “Surely you had to suspect what they were going to do,” snarled Rhys.

  “You’re the one who hit Renfro with the cart!” exclaimed Ben.

  Red flushed enough that his red face was visible in the dim room. “I didn’t know for sure! I hoped though. I never liked that little shit. Always running around like he’s something special. Everyone knows he was some two copper thief in Fabrizo. He just got lucky hooking up with you. And yeah, I hit him. Once it started, I figured that was my shot to get personal.”

  Despite himself, Ben gained a sliver of respect for Red. The man was their captive and had to know Renfro was lurking around somewhere nearby. And he still said what he did. He must have really hated Renfro.

  “How did you know they were Gulli’s men? If they were going to wipe out your debt, they had to give you some assurance, right?” asked Rhys.

  “I didn’t know for sure,” implored Red. “I mean, so what if they weren’t? I wouldn’t be any worse off than I was. Being in debt to Gulli, that’s a tight spot.”

  “You don’t think this is a tight spot?” Rhys gripped the hilt of his long knife but left it resting on his knees. “You said you know me. Are you certain you are not in a much worse situation now? I want you to think about that. Think about what you could say to me to get out of the spot you are in now.”

  Red sighed. “I don’t know nothin’. I was just supposed to lead Renfro to the granaries. They said after I did it they’d send word to Gulli and my debt would be wiped clean. I don’t even know the guys. I think they were the same ones who attacked you,” he looked at Ben, “I’m pretty sure it was them.”

  “Send word to where?” asked Ben. He looked at Rhys who rolled his eyes. They’d spent time planning how to get Red to talk. Now he was singing like a bird but had nothing useful to tell them.

  “I guess where ever Gulli is,” muttered Red unhelpfully.

  Figuring out where Gulli went proved to be harder than finding out he was gone. By the next Newday, they still didn’t have any promising leads. His business associates all claimed he was in the hills around The City but there were plenty of small villages scattered around and none of them made sense as a hide out for a Lord on the run. His home in town and modest estate to the north on the river were both empty. Even the household staff had vanished.

  Reinhold was fuming. He had moved into the brewery business to cut into Gulli’s profits and erode his ability to do business in Reinhold’s other markets. Ben realized that Reinhold now relished the idea of violence with his smaller rival. Whether he’d planned for this conflict all along or whether he was just seizing the opportunity, Reinhold was prepared and ready for anything except waiting. The man was a master strategist and not knowing what his opponent was doing was driving him mad.

  Ben tried to remain calm as he left to make the regular Newday visit with Meghan and Amelie, a pair of Reinhold’s guards in tow. During the actual fight he’d felt a weird sense of peace. The confusion of the last few months had been gone and there was only one direction he needed to move. Now, he was back to the nervous indecision he’d felt before the partnership with Reinhold. They were all ready to act, but they didn’t know how.

  When the tall copper gates of the Sanctuary came into sight, Ben looked back at the two guards following him and decided he needed to let them know the tension he’d felt recently from the Sanctuary guards.

  “These guys are pretty wary. They haven’t given me any real trouble, but you two with me and heavily armed, they might.”

  “Really?” asked one of the guards. He was clean shaven except a neat blonde mustache that matched his closely cropped hair. He was typical of one of Reinhold’s guards. Self-assured, neatly dressed and always proper with someone he considered his better. He didn’t think Ben was. “That’s strange, having trouble with the Sanctuary. I can understand Gulli. I’ve been here countless times though and these guys don’t give a rat’s ass who comes and goes. What are you going to do in there, attack a Mage?”

  “Well,” Ben regretted speaking up, “I’m just saying to be aware. There’s something going on around here and I don’t know what.”

  “Ok, whatever you say. Maybe you’re on edge about the other situation. I’m just saying, think about it. You’ve got reason to keep an eye over your shoulder but this place ain’t it.”

  At the gates, the old and young women’s faces stared out stoically. It was funny thought Ben, how they seemed to change in the sunlight. An overcast day lead to an overcast expression maybe? He told himself he’d have to pay more attention next time he was there.

  The guard’s expressions had gone from watchful to uninterested. Ben slowed his pace expecting trouble but one of the men merely lifted his hand to wave them on. “Visiting an Initiate, right? Take the path to the breezeway then 500 paces to your right.”

  He didn’t recognize the guard, but surely they had all seen him by now. There weren’t that many Initiates and that many people to visit them. He’d been here plenty of times.

  “Glad you warned us,” snarked his blonde companion.

  Meghan and Amelie were both
there when he got to the gardens.

  “Oh Ben! I hope you’re Ok. How is Renfro?”

  “I’m fine,” he was glad to see the girl’s friendly faces. The warehouse had gotten to be a place full of angry glares and curses when another lead came up empty. “Renfro is alright too. We had to nearly tie him to the bed for a few days but after some rest he’s back up again. He’ll have his arm in a sling for a while though.”

  “What about your men, some of them were hurt as well, right? A knock on the head?” asked Amelie. Meghan stared over Ben’s shoulder at the two of Reinhold’s guards who were looking around pretending not to be eavesdropping.

  “Uh,” he couldn’t remember what he’d written about Red. Red had been press ganged onto one of Reinhold’s long haul merchant vessels with strict instructions to the Captain that he be left far away and copperless. It was better than it could have been. Rhys had seconded Renfro’s idea of cutting his throat and dumping him in the river. Reinhold was only interested in Gulli and didn’t much care what happened to his minions. So Ben found himself arguing to save the traitorous former porter, if only because the man wasn’t the one who’d struck the blow to Evan.

  He thought more than once that maybe the other’s ideas of how to deal with Red would have been best. At the time, he couldn’t bring himself to do it though.

  “They’re not good. I don’t know if they’ll fully recover,” he hedged. He didn’t like talking about Evan’s death but he felt bad sugar coating it to his friends. The girls didn’t know the details and he hoped they never would.

  “Maybe there’s something we can do to help,” replied Amelie tentatively.

  Meghan shouted, “Amelie!”

  “I know! But these are friends of our’s.”

  “They are not your friends, you don’t even know them!” chastised Meghan. “And even if they were, it wouldn’t matter.”

  Ben looked between the girls in confusion.

  “It matters to me,” challenged Amelie.

  Meghan simply rolled her eyes and stalked off to sit at a nearby bench. She stared back at Ben and Amelie impassively.

  “This place is getting to her,” muttered Amelie.

  “I don’t want to be a source of strife between you two. Aside from me and Saala, you just have each other.”

  “There’s a lot of stress here Ben. And the Sanctuary has some strong opinions. It’s hard to stay true to yourself and not get absorbed in their philosophies.”

  Ben shifted uncomfortably on the pebble strewn path. “What kind of philosophies?”

  “I suppose I should just tell you since I already offered my help.” Amelie sighed and spared a look at Meghan. In a whisper to avoid the eavesdropping guards she continued, “we’ve been learning to heal. A little bit only, but maybe enough to help your friends. The Sanctuary takes a dim view of expending ourselves unless it is for Sanctuary business and of course Initiates are never supposed to practice off the grounds here.” She shrugged. “If someone is hurt, it’s worth a try.”

  “I…” Evan was dead and Red, where ever he was now, didn’t need that kind of help. “Reinhold hired the best physicians and I think they did everything that can be done. Honestly, I’ve seen what Towaal can do and even she couldn’t help with this. Thank you for offering though, I appreciate it.”

  A relieved looking Amelie nodded quickly and brushed an errant strand of hair back over her ear. “Ok then. I had to offer.”

  “So healing. Are you a Mage now?”

  The spark of the old Amelie, before the Sanctuary, shined through briefly and she smirked back at Ben. “I’m a Mage like you were a Blademaster the day we left Farview.”

  Ben felt a little better as he walked back through the busy streets of The City. His two guards shadowed him several steps behind and he almost felt alone and like things were back to normal. Whatever that meant anymore.

  He hadn’t lost the watchful edge that he gained over the last week though and spied Rhys heading towards him through the crowd while he was still a city block away.

  “Come on, I want to show you something,” called Rhys.

  Ben fell in beside Rhys.

  “You two, you can head back to the warehouse,” Rhys said to the guards.

  “You sure?” asked the blonde to Ben.

  “It’s broad daylight and I’m with him,” smiled Ben as he gestured to Rhys.

  “Right.” The guard eyed Rhys up and down then said to Ben, “the names Henrick. Everyone on Lord Reinhold’s staff knows me. Get the word to someone and I’ll be there if you need me. The Lord wants you protected.”

  “What’s going on?” asked Ben as he and Rhys moved off into the current of people in the street.

  “I’ve got to leave,” answered Rhys. “A little bit of work. Nothing serious but it’s urgent. The damn Veil herself requested both Towaal and I go and that we leave tonight. Terrible timing with what’s going on. I hate to leave you while Saala is out of town too but I can’t really say no to the Veil. I want to show you a few things before I go.”

  “Lady Towaal is in town?” inquired Ben. He hadn’t seen her since they arrived in The City.

  Rhys nodded. “She never stays long. I think she just got back yesterday.”

  They arrived at The Flying Swan Inn. Mathias saw them from behind the counter and waved them back. Ben followed Rhys through the busy kitchen and out to the yard behind the building. He’d been back there before making deliveries. This time of day it was empty except for two practice swords leaning against the wall of the inn.

  “Practice swords, I thought you never practiced?”

  “I don’t,” replied Rhys, “but you do. The Blademaster taught you well and you’re on your way to being a perfectly adequate swordsman. There’s more to it than memorizing some forms though. You do that and you’re just waiting for the guy who learned one more than you. Then it’s over.”

  Ben picked up both of the blunted weapons and tossed one to Rhys. “So, what will you show me then?”

  Ben swished the sword back and forth a few times to get a feel for the weight and balance then started loosening up. In the months he’d known Rhys, he’d never seen the man practice.

  He had seen him in combat at Snowmar though. Rhys had a smooth elegance with his weapons that surely came from experience. The man moved like a powerful wind. Even Saala was impressed so Ben was both excited and nervous about what would happen next.

  Suddenly, Rhys surged across the space between them and slapped Ben’s practice sword from his hand before he could react. Ben dove across the hard packed dirt, snatched at his sword and rolled to his feet ready to face Rhys.

  Instead of the expected attack he saw Rhys’ jaw drop open and the swordsman pointed over Ben’s shoulder. Ben spun to face the new threat only to the feel the painful slap of the practice sword against his bicep sending him stumbling to the side.

  He angrily turned back to Rhys and demanded, “what are you…”

  Rhys launched a cloud of loose dirt at Ben’s face and he felt his practice sword yet again violently smacked away from him while he tried shield his eyes.

  “Come on!” Ben shouted.

  “Get your sword,” responded Rhys coolly.

  “Not until you tell me…”

  Rhys jabbed his own practice sword hard into Ben’s midsection and Ben collapsed to the ground breathless.

  Rhys squatted down next to Ben who was still gasping and painfully clutching his stomach. “I will tell you. I am teaching you how to fight.”

  “By throwing dirt at my face?” grumbled Ben.

  “It was effective wasn’t it? I won that round. You should appreciate what Saala has taught you, he is very skilled at what he does. But fighting isn’t sparring, dueling or some refereed Blademaster qualification. A real sword fight is about maiming or killing your opponent. And when someone is trying to kill you, you do anything you can to get an advantage. You distract them. You throw dirt in their face. You attack when they aren’t looking.” Rhys
stood up and gestured for Ben to get up. “Saala and his ilk bring honor to the profession of swordsman, but it isn’t about honor or following some set of rules. It’s about winning and staying alive until tomorrow. You can worry about your honor then.”

  Ben slowly sat up. His stomach really hurt from where the blunted point of Rhys’ wooden blade hit him.

  “Why are you telling me this now? Saala spent months practicing with me on the road and you just watched.”

  “You didn’t need it then. You were with me, Saala and Towaal. What more protection could you have?” He grinned, “of course at the time I didn’t expect you’d get captured by the Thieves Guild in Fabrizo, face a swarm of demons at Snowmar or anger a Lord of The City enough that he sent a hit squad after you. I think despite yourself, you’ve chosen to live a rather dangerous lifestyle.”

  Rhys reached down and hauled Ben up to his feet.

  “We don’t have much time and the Blademaster made a good start. I will teach you as much as I can about winning a fight. It’s about taking what you’ve learned so far and adding creativity and ruthlessness. Knowing all of the proper forms does you no good if your opponent knows them all too. The forms Saala taught are the most efficient and powerful strokes or defenses you can make in a particular situation, but they don’t take into account that your opponent might anticipate that or might react some way other than swinging his sword.”

  The rest of the afternoon was spent with Rhys landing strike after strike and by the end of it, Ben was sure he had more bruises and welts than he would have with a month of training under Saala. Rhys was fast, strong and efficient with his movements. His real advantage though was that Ben could never guess what he was going to do. Rhys anticipated Ben’s movements before they even happened. Even when Ben attempted some creativity and modified a swing, Rhys was ready.

  “Every movement that is taught by master swordsmen also has a counter that is taught,” said Rhys while he circled the hard packed dirt courtyard. “Inventing your own movements can help, but don’t expect that to always work. I suspect everything that can be done with a sword has been done. Instead, you need to go beyond the forms and teach your body to adapt to the moment. You are most effective when there can be no expectation of what you will do next. If the most efficient stroke from a position is high, that only makes sense if your opponent doesn’t know to counter it.”