Benjamin Ashwood Box Set 2

by A. C. Cobble

  On the surface, she was calm as a winter pond, but Ben had been with her enough to hear the distress in her voice. This man was frightening her.

  The innkeeper temporarily saved the man from responding when he bustled in carrying four large pitchers of ale. One of his serving men scampered in behind with mugs. They set three of the pitchers and the mugs in the center of the table and one of the pitchers in front of the big man. The serving man also set down a bowl of thick-shelled nuts.

  Ben picked up a nut to give himself something to do while they waited for the staff to clear out, but he couldn’t figure out how to open the shell. He pinched it, pried at it, and then finally just held it in his hand so as to not embarrass himself.

  As soon as the innkeeper turned his back, the big man scooped up the pitcher and drank directly from it.

  Rhys whistled softly in appreciation.

  “You fancy yourself a drinker, assassin?” asked the man.

  Rhys handled the man’s abruptness slightly better than Towaal did, though Ben didn’t miss the tension growing in his posture. “I do enjoy a drink.”

  The man eyed them, seeming to peer into each of their souls.

  “What are you doing in my town?” he demanded.

  Rhys filled his own ale mug, surprising Ben by not following the big man’s lead and drinking directly from the pitcher.

  “You seem to know a great deal about us,” said Rhys, “but we know nothing about you. Maybe we should start our discussion there.”

  “I’m not barging around your town looking for people.”

  “Mistress Albie sent you to us. You know why we are here,” stated Ben. “We are looking for an organization called the Purple. We’re trying to fight the demons.”

  The man snorted and took another deep pull from the ale pitcher.

  “The Purple isn’t in Frisay,” barked the man, wiping foam from his mouth with the back of his hand. “I wouldn’t let those fools come near here.”

  Ben blinked. “You know of the Purple?”

  The man sat back, the sturdy wooden chair threatening to collapse under his weight. “I know of the Purple. What I don’t know is why I should help you find them.”

  “The demons are a threat to all mankind,” started Ben.

  “The same could be said for the Purple,” guffawed the man, amused at his own joke.

  “You are Gunther,” interjected Amelie.

  Ben blinked in surprise. Gunther, the legendary mage Jasper had spoken of. He glanced down at the hammer on the table. The Librarian had referred to Gunther’s hammer in his letter to the council in Irrefort. Ben’s gaze rose to the man. He realized Amelie was right.

  The big man smiled mirthlessly at her. “So, one of you knows a little something. Yes, I am Gunther.”

  “The Librarian of Northport reached out to you. He asked for your help,” continued Amelie. “He wanted you to use your hammer to battle back the demons so that the Purple did not use a weapon they’ve been developing here.”

  A wry smile twisted Gunther’s face. “See, you know a lot more about me than you thought. You know I am not beholden to the shrill commands of others. I’m not going to go running every time someone cries for help. That child the Librarian didn’t know what he was talking about. His colleagues have spent millennia banging their heads against the wall.”

  Gunther paused to quaff more ale.

  “It’s good you know that about me. Hopefully, you understand a little bit about what I’m capable of. Here’s the issue. The only things I know about you I don’t like. People I don’t like aren’t welcome in Frisay. In fact, if you continue this foolish quest to find the Purple, I may have to say you’re not welcome in the South Continent. Maybe it’s best if you go home now, you understand? I don’t want to have that kind of unpleasantness. Do you want to have unpleasantness?”

  Amelie sat back, uncertainty clouding her face.

  “We know your friend Jasper,” said Ben quietly. He pulled out the healing disc that Jasper had made for him. “He gave me this and many other things. He believed in our quest.”

  Gunther frowned.

  Amelie took Ben’s lead and placed the pouch Jasper had given her on the table.

  “He spent weeks instructing me while we traveled together,” she said. “He did it because he saw the demon threat with his own eyes. His friends, his home, were all overrun by the creatures. He knew if someone didn’t act, Alcott, and maybe the world, would follow. Jasper knew we were looking for the Purple. He was helping us do it.”

  “I haven’t seen Jasper in ages,” muttered the big man.

  “You still trust his judgement, though, don’t you?” asked Ben.

  He knew he was taking a risk, making a rather large assumption about Jasper’s and Gunther’s relationship, but he also knew it was all he had to go on.

  The big mage tilted up his ale pitcher and drained it in three great gulps. He looked around the companions, studying each of them.

  “What do you plan to do when you find the Purple?” he asked.

  Ben took in a deep breath. “We believe they have developed a weapon, something with incredible power, something that we could use to blunt the threat of the demons once and for all.”

  “Give me that nut,” said Gunther.

  Ben looked down at the nut in his hand, then flicked it across the table to Gunther.

  The mage drew his belt-knife and inserted the point into a split in the shell. With a quick twist of his wrist, he snapped the shell open and dumped out the soft nut. He placed the belt-knife on the table next to his hammer.

  “I could have used either one of these tools to open that shell. Why do you think I chose the knife?”

  “I get it,” answered Ben. “The hammer would be more force than you needed.”

  The mage sat forward. “Do you really understand? My hammer could easily crack open that shell, but as you say, it would be excessive. It would be so excessive that it would certainly crush the soft fruit inside the shell. It would also smash this table to kindling. If I wasn’t careful, I could bring down the entire building. In my hands, this hammer is powerful and dangerous. If I wanted to, I could destroy this city with it. No one could stop me. Even after many, many years, I find the hammer difficult to control. I only use it when I must.”

  “You’re worried we won’t be able to control the Purple’s weapon,” acknowledged Ben. “You think if we were able to access the power between the worlds, we’d use it indiscriminately.”

  The mage snorted. “I’m talking about the quest for more power in general. The Purple doesn’t even know what they’ve got. They weren’t the creators of the staff, and they haven’t figured out how to use it. Those fools can’t even activate the thing. You wouldn’t be able to activate it either. This quest for ever more power is a fool’s errand. You should come up with another plan.”

  “They have the weapon, but they can’t use it,” mumbled Amelie. “What are they doing then? Why are they still hiding in the desert?”

  Gunther shifted uncomfortably in the seat. “As I said, the quest for ever more power is a fool’s errand.”

  “They’re working on something else,” guessed Ben.

  “What is it?” demanded Towaal.

  “I don’t know,” admitted the big man. “For ages, I could feel them tinkering, trying to reach beyond our world. I don’t feel it anymore. They haven’t accessed the power they were striving for outside of our world, and I would know if they were able to use the staff they stole. Maybe they are trying something else.”

  Ben’s eyebrows rose. The mage gave the impression he knew everything.

  “We’re here for the same reason the Librarian asked for your help,” interjected Corinne. “We’re here to find tools to battle the demons. As you say, they’re dangerous. If you don’t think we’re trustworthy, then you do it! You take up the Purple’s weapon and help us stop the demons.”

  Gunther shook his head.

  “Then we’ll have to find som
eone else,” remarked Amelie. “If not you, then maybe Jasper. Or we could go to the Veil. Surely she’d want to help us stop the demons.”

  Gunther’s hand smacked down on the table, the wood shuddering alarmingly from the force of the blow.

  “The Veil must not be allowed access to the staff. That power was taken from the Sanctuary long ago and with good reason! That woman cannot be trusted with that kind of weapon. She’d use it to rule over all of us. The abuses of the lords and ladies would be like a gentle tap compared to the crush of her steel boot.”

  Ben looked to Towaal and Rhys, unsure how to convince Gunther of their plight. The man seemed unmoved by the terror of the demons and even an appeal involving his old friend Jasper.

  “Why haven’t you destroyed this weapon. A staff you said?” questioned O’ecca.

  Gunther frowned at her.

  “You think that kind of power may be needed one day,” surmised Amelie. “You won’t destroy it because it’s worth the risk that it could fall into the Veil’s hands.”

  “Anyone’s hands,” grumbled the mage. “No one should have that kind of power, not even me. If I don’t trust myself with that kind of might, why do you think I’d help you obtain it?”

  “If not us, not you, and not the Veil, who would you trust to use it?” asked Ben.

  Gunther glared at Ben but did not respond.

  “You trust Jasper, right?” asked Ben. “Help us obtain the weapon from the Purple, and we’ll deliver it to Jasper. He can decide if it is appropriate to use it or not.”

  Towaal finally raised her head and met Gunther’s eyes. “There are thousands of demons loose in the north. The Sanctuary may have the strength to face them, but you know as well as I that the Veil will not risk all of her resources on that gamble. The lords are focused on their own petty battles. Even if they combined forces, I’m not sure they’d be sufficient. If you do not help us, hundreds of thousands will be consumed by those creatures. By then, they will be unstoppable, even by you. If we do nothing, if you do nothing, this world will be overrun.”

  “How do I know you speak the truth?” mumbled Gunther, dropping his gaze to his hammer.

  Amelie pulled out the thought meld they’d used to communicate with Jasper. “This is linked to Jasper. We can reach him with it, and you can ask him if we are trustworthy.”

  “I can reach him without that,” admitted Gunther.

  They sat in silence, watching the big mage think. By sheer luck, they’d found someone who knew details about the Purple and their weapon, but was unwilling to help. Ben clenched his fists in frustration.

  The man seemed genuinely concerned about what would happen if the Purple’s weapon was used. What could be so terrible that it was worse than the demons? The man seemed willing to risk everything to prevent the Veil from getting her hands on it.

  A grim smile twisted Ben’s lips.

  “There’s another problem you should know about,” he mentioned.

  Gunther, gaze still on his hammer, reluctantly asked, “What problem?”

  “There is a mage who is following us,” explained Ben, “one who works for the Sanctuary. She is very powerful, nearly unstoppable. We believe she is here and that she may know about the Purple’s weapon.”

  “She is using death magic,” added Towaal. “Secrets from long ago.”

  “Society of the Burning Hand,” added Ben.

  “She’s following you?” asked Gunther, looking up to meet their eyes. “She is here, on the South Continent?”

  They all nodded.

  “That is not good,” mumbled Gunther.

  The huge mage stood and collected his hammer.

  “I must think about this. I will find you tomorrow. Do not leave.”

  The next morning, Gunther was waiting in the common room when they got downstairs.

  His hammer leaned against the table beside him, and empty plate sat in front of him. He was pouring a mug full of ale.

  At least he was using a mug this time, thought Ben.

  “A little early, isn’t it?” chided O’ecca.

  “Late,” rumbled the mage. “I was up all night, walking around town, thinking.”

  Ben and his companions sat across from the man.

  “I do not trust you with the staff the Purple stole.”

  Ben’s heart sank, but he listened as the mage continued.

  “But with an agent of the Veil on the continent using death magic, I cannot allow the Purple to hold the staff either. They may have the strength to defeat her, but they may not. It is too much of a risk.”

  “What do you plan to do?” asked Towaal.

  “I will go with you. Together, we will collect the staff. I will be the one who carries it, and I will be the one who decides what is to be done. If I decide to destroy it, you will not interfere.”

  Towaal looked to Ben and Amelie. They were stuck without his help. If Gunther went with them, they had time to convince the man to bring the staff to Alcott and use it against the demons. Even if he didn’t agree to use the weapon, they could recruit him to their cause. The Librarian thought he was up to the task. A man like him would make a difference.

  “We agree,” said Ben, holding out his hand to the burly mage.

  Gunther’s massive paw gripped Ben’s hand and he shook it once.

  “There is one problem,” mentioned the big mage.

  “What is that?” asked Ben.

  The man sighed. “Your original plan to ask the Purple for help will not work. They are not good men. They will not allow us to take the staff willingly. We need to steal it.”

  Ben groaned.

  “They do not have the knowledge to use the staff,” continued Gunther, “but that does not mean they are weak. Getting into their stronghold and taking it will be difficult. I have monitored their behavior for years, and I have thought long about whether I should take the staff myself, either through stealth or force. One reason I have not is that I worry what else they have discovered. While they are content to sit in their mountain fortress, I have been content to let them. If we are forced to confront them, I am not sure what will happen.”

  The big man rolled his shoulders and settled back in his chair, raising his ale mug to his lips.

  “You want us to fight them?” asked Corinne doubtfully.

  “I hope we can avoid that,” replied Gunther. He gestured to his massive body. “I am not a very stealthy person, but I believe some of you may be. We will plan to sneak in and steal the staff without them noticing us. If that does not work, we will have to do it the other way.”

  “Very well,” said Amelie. “When do we leave?”

  That evening, Ben and Amelie strolled around the plaza outside of the inn. At night, it was lit only by the light that poured out of the surrounding buildings. The downside of a town without a government, thought Ben, was that no one paid for lanterns.

  “You’ve been quiet,” murmured Amelie.

  “We seem to be going further and further down a hole, and I’m starting to wonder if there is any bottom. What if when we find the Purple and somehow manage to steal this staff of theirs, we still do not have an answer to the demons? Gunther claims we don’t have the knowledge to use the staff, and he says he may not be willing. What if this entire trip to the South Continent is a waste of time? The demons are in Alcott. The people there are under attack. We are down here, not helping anyone. Amelie, what if we’re deluding ourselves about what we’re doing? Irrefort, Qooten, everything?”

  Amelie tightened her grip on his arm. “What are you suggesting we do? Turn back?”

  “I want to be doing something,” declared Ben. “Something I can see. Something I know is helpful. I want to face the demons and fight. We should be protecting people.”

  “Anyone can swing a sword,” argued Amelie. “There are hunters in Northport, Jasper and whoever he recruited, countless towns along the north. Even Lord Jason said he would fight the demons. I’m not saying we would be useless on the front lines,
but the world doesn’t need another strong arm and a sword. The world needs someone to be creative, to do something dramatic that really changes things. That’s what we should strive for. Whether it’s the Purple and their weapon or another quest after this one, we can’t stop until we have a solution. We could kill hundreds of demons with our blades and it wouldn’t change the course of what is happening. The demons will not quit until someone figures out how to stop them from coming. I know it feels like we aren’t doing anything, but we are doing everything!”

  They walked on in silence for a long time, circling the plaza, enjoying the cool evening air.

  “What if it doesn’t work?” asked Ben.

  “Then we can go swing our swords,” replied Amelie.

  Ben smiled down at her. “You always know what to say to encourage me, don’t you?”

  “I’ve been training my entire life to know what to say to people. My father, my tutors, even the Sanctuary. They all wanted me to be a leader.”

  “You’re good at it,” complimented Ben.

  “You’re getting pretty good at it too,” mentioned Amelie.

  Ben chuckled. “I’m not sure about that. I trained to be a brewer and then a swordsman. I don’t know much about leadership or how to talk to people.”

  “You know more than you think,” replied Amelie. “You connect to people, Ben. You connect in a way I don’t know how to. You’re authentic. You could study a thousand great speeches, learn the art of speaking from the best stage actors, understand how to logically persuade the most intelligent critics, but it doesn’t do you any good if you can’t find people’s hearts. People trust you, and they know that you’ll do your best to follow through on what you say. There’s a goodness in you, Ben, and people see that. They want to be part of it.”

  “I don’t know, Amelie,” mumbled Ben.

  “That night in the Sanctuary,” reminded Amelie, “I had to choose to go with you or to stay. Between a life that moments before seemed safe and secure or a life of constant danger. You convinced me, Ben. That moment, I wanted to follow you. Wherever you were going.”