Benjamin Ashwood Box Set 2

by A. C. Cobble

  “Both women are intelligent and cunning. They’ve spent ages plotting against each other. There could be layers of depth to their machinations, but the fact remains, unless they can devastate the entire city, which they could have already done, then they can only strike all of their enemies at once if we’re in the same location.”

  “Even if they didn’t plan it,” said Amelie. “If we go into the Veil’s palace, we’ll make an irresistible opportunity for both of them.”

  “Should we not go in?” wondered Prem. “In the forest, we were always taught not to poke the bear. Going in there is certain to stir things up. We might be wrong about Avril, but we know there’s no way we could walk in without confronting the Veil.”

  Ben drummed his fingers on the table and sipped at his ale.

  “What do you think, Ben?” asked Rhys. “We could be at Murdoch’s Waystation in two weeks and meet Saala there. We don’t need either one of these women to stop the war between the Alliance and the Coalition.”

  “You saw what Avril attempted in Whitehall,” challenged Amelie. “She was prepared to destroy the entire city, and she almost did! A million people, all so she could kill one woman. In good conscience, we can’t let her go if we have a chance to stop her. Millions might die in the war, but who’s to say those women won’t kill even more trying to get at each other? And once one of them finally wins, I don’t want to imagine what they’d do unencumbered by fear of the other.”

  “A confrontation in the heart of Fabrizo will be dangerous,” warned Prem. “It’s far from certain we can defeat either one of them, let alone both.”

  “We don’t have to defeat them,” stated Ben. “We just have to get them talking.”

  “Hadra?” asked Amelie.

  Ben nodded.

  “I also have an advantage they won’t be aware of,” added Amelie. “The power of the storm.”

  “You’ve held it?” wondered Ben.

  “Not all. Not most, even, but some. Enough, I think, if I can deploy it and surprise them.”

  “The choice is obvious,” responded Ben. “Just like the Veil and Avril trying to kill two birds with one stone, this may be the only time we know they are both in the same location. We have the same incentive they do, and we need to finish this now.” He tipped up his ale, draining it, and when it thudded back down on the table, he declared, “Let’s poke the bear.”

  “This is a bad idea,” grumbled Ben.

  “It’s your idea,” reminded Rhys.

  “He’s right, Ben. You are the one who suggested we do this,” added Amelie.

  Ben scowled at them. “Maybe we should back down and think about it.”

  “It’s too late for that,” reminded Rhys. “You already sent the message to the thieves.”

  “I can’t believe we’re doing this,” said O’ecca, her voice bright with excitement. “I figured there would be magical battles, maybe some demons, but thieves? I didn’t suspect that at all. No one’s going to believe me back at court!”

  “If you get back,” said Ben under his breath. Speaking a little louder, he recommended, “Just be ready with that naginata. Things are likely to get a little hairy, and we’ll need all the help we can get.”

  “Keep your will hardened as well,” advised Rhys. “When the fireworks start, those women are going to be indiscriminate on who they blast with energy.”

  “How do you harden your will?” asked O’ecca.

  “I… ah, just duck,” said Rhys, shooting a worried glance at Ben.

  “Stay behind me,” suggested Prem. “Close behind. I can extend some protection, but… just be very close.”

  “Are we sure this will work?” asked Amelie nervously as they stepped off the bridge onto the Street of Thorns.

  “No,” said Ben. “I just said I thought it was a bad idea.”

  “Why are we doing it then?” questioned Prem.

  Ben shrugged. “No one else said anything.”

  “If the thieves didn’t get our note…” worried Amelie.

  “Amelie, it’s time to let Hadra know we’re moving into position,” said Ben, trying to sound reassuring. “If the thieves didn’t get the note, we’ll find out soon enough.”

  “We’ll find out when it’s too la—"

  “It’s too late now,” declared Rhys, nodding ahead of them where a hulking stone edifice loomed over the street. “There it is.”

  Outside of the building, a dozen men wearing white tabards stood guard. They wore the customary broadswords of the Sanctuary, bright chainmail underneath their tabards, and carried tall, steel-tipped halberds. As Ben and his friends walked by the front of the Veil’s palace, the guards all stopped speaking and turned to watch them. Ben nodded congenially, gave a short wave, and tried to not break into a run.

  “They’re not following, yet,” whispered O’ecca, glancing behind them. “They are watching us, though.”

  “Just a little bit longer,” said Ben, flexing and unflexing his hands.

  He paused in front of a gate, waiting on Amelie. After a moment, her eyes flicked open, and she placed her hands on the thick iron bars that stood outside of the thieves’ guild. She released a steady breath. Then the lock clicked, and Amelie hauled the heavy gate open.

  Ben went up the stairs and grabbed a black-iron knocker that hung at shoulder level on the polished mahogany double doors. He bashed the knocker, sending booming crashes through the marble hallway on the other side.

  “The guards are meandering over here,” warned Prem.

  Ben risked a look over his shoulder and saw several of the Sanctuary’s soldiers walking down the street. The men were eyeing them suspiciously. O’ecca blew one of the soldiers a kiss.

  “Is that necessary?” growled Ben.

  The knocker was yanked out of his hand when the door was flung open. A man stood on the other side. He wore a billowing, white, silk shirt half-tucked in snug black britches. A jewel-hilted rapier hung on his hip, and his feet were bare. The man’s eyes took in the scene in front of him before fastening on Rhys.

  “You!” he exclaimed. Then his gaze swung back to Ben. “You!”

  “Are you aware the Veil is guesting next door to your secret hideout?” asked Ben.

  “What are you talking about?” said the man, his hand drifting to his rapier.

  “I believe those guards behind me have orders to kill us, but even worse, the former Veil, believed to be assassinated centuries ago, is about to spring a trap. She will also attempt to kill us. The Veil and the dozen mages she has with her will respond of course, trying to kill her predecessor – and us. I know that is complicated, and I apologize I didn’t have room on the paper to write it all down, but it’s important you know what the stakes are.”

  “I-I… What are you talking about?” snapped the man, sliding a hand-length of steel out of his scabbard.

  “Casper,” said Ben slowly, “two of the most powerful mages on this continent are about to start a magical battle right next door to you. Not to mention the hundreds of armed men I suspect will begin to pour into this street. We need your help.”

  “My-My help,” stammered the man, taking a cautious step back. “I-I warned you that if you ever returned—”

  “You’d kill us. I know,” said Ben. “I remember, but as I mentioned just now, there are already a number of people in line to do that. Now, will you rouse your fellows before you, this house, this block, and I’d guess every important thief in Fabrizo is destroyed in a battle unlike anything this city has seen since the Blood Bay War?”

  Casper’s jaw hung open.

  “There’s more of them, and they’re looking antsy,” called O’ecca, watching the guards approach closer. “A dozen of them just came out of the palace next door, and some have drawn weapons.”

  “We don’t have time for this,” growled Rhys.

  He stepped by Ben and punched Casper in the face, snapping the man’s head back and sending him sprawling on his back, landing on the thick carpet that ran the
length of the foyer. Rhys stepped over the thief’s form and strode into the hall, the companions following on his heels.

  Rhys shouted, “Come on out! There’s about to be a mage battle in your foyer. I know you are listening!”

  Suddenly, a man appeared in front of them from an open doorway. He held a short, blackened crossbow in his hands and had dozens of knives strapped to his body. He nodded in acknowledgement of the rogue. “Rhys.”

  “Cogdill,” responded the rogue. “It’s been a long time. I hope you knew we were coming.”

  “We received your note, but I am a cautious man. I figured I would keep it from Casper and let him talk to you, to see how serious you were. Tell me, did you mean what you said in the note?”

  “Sorry if it didn’t make sense. He wrote it,” apologized the rogue, hooking a thumb toward Ben. “We need to get into the building next door and then vanish with a person we’ll extract from there.”

  “You plan to assault the Veil’s residence, steal a person, escape with them, and the first thing you did was walk by her front door? Tell me you have a plan, Rhys.”

  “We hoped you would help with the plan,” suggested Ben. “We did say we would be coming by.”

  Cogdill blinked at him.

  “Time is a factor,” reminded Rhys. “I’m guessing you’ve got at least two-dozen highly skilled thieves in this building. Where are they?”

  “Why would we help you?” asked the man.

  “The Veil has an artifact on her called a repository,” said Ben. “This one is the most powerful of its kind. Its value is limitless to the right person.”

  “Only a mage can use a repository,” said Cogdill, his eyes looking over Ben’s shoulders at the front door. “Besides, I don’t care what you say. We’re not going to steal an object off the Veil’s person. I’m a thief, not a fool.”

  A knock sounded on the door.

  “There are mages on the Coalition Council,” said Ben, speaking quickly. “I can give you their names. This device has no peer. Its value to them would be unfathomable.”

  “Plus, whatever else the leader of the Sanctuary travels with,” added Rhys. “Imagine what kind of documents her secretary has in her satchel. Highly portable secrets only the Veil and her closest associates know. Imagine what you could learn, who you could sell it to, who you could blackmail.”

  The knocker banged on the door, and a voice shouted from outside.

  “Let’s go,” said Cogdill, spinning on his heel. Over his shoulder, he asked, “You know how to harden your will?”

  “Why does everyone keep—” exclaimed O’ecca.

  “We do,” interjected Ben.

  “They’ll know the moment we violate their wards,” said Cogdill, darting through a doorway to a set of broad, stone stairs. Shouts and more bangs came from the front door. “If you have sufficient will, you might survive the death wards.”

  “What did you say?” asked O’ecca, her voice an octave higher than Ben recalled.

  “Stay close to me,” instructed Prem.

  “They’ll be through that front door in moments,” warned Rhys.

  “They’ll get inside the foyer, and the soldiers will be stopped there,” replied Cogdill. “We prepared for this just in case you were serious.”

  “What about the mages?” asked Amelie.

  “We will deal with them as well. Our preparations against magical attack are entirely defensive, but it will give us time,” replied the thief, taking them down two levels and then into an unadorned stone hallway that felt uncomfortably familiar to Ben. “We began formulating a plan the moment we got your note. When we saw you crossing to this island, we began our evacuation protocol. Most of the truly valuable artifacts in this building are already gone. The only remaining personnel are tasked with defense. They will hold until the charges are lit. After that, the building will be destroyed.”

  “Destroyed?” asked Ben.

  Cogdill didn’t answer.

  “But you are helping us,” said Rhys. “Why do that instead of, say, carrying out an armful of that silver I saw in the hallway?”

  “You had me at ‘the Veil’s private documents’,” admitted the thief. “The repository she carries would fetch an incredible price from a rogue mage or the Coalition, but the documents… The potential bidding for that information on the black market would be unprecedented.”

  “I’m sorry I hit Casper earlier,” apologized Rhys.

  Cogdill snorted. “No you aren’t. If he doesn’t regain consciousness soon, he’ll get what he deserves when those soldiers stomp over him to get inside.”

  “I thought he was your enforcer,” remarked Ben.

  “He’s our head-basher,” rejoined Cogdill, “a public decoy in case anyone thinks to strike at our guild. He’s not even an elder.” The thief stopped at a simple wooden doorway, studying the party. “Rhys the assassin, a lady from the South Continent who must be the emissary everyone is speculating about, another highborn but from Alcott… Lady Amelie perhaps? A farm boy we once hosted in a makeshift cell in this very building, and… What are you, miss? I am very good at this, but I’m afraid I cannot place you. You aren’t of the Sanctuary, but I sense magical potential.”

  Prem smiled back at the thief and didn’t respond.

  “Glad to know we can keep at least one secret,” muttered Rhys.

  “Miss,” said Cogdill to Prem, “with what we’re about to walk into, I need to know everyone is capable.”

  “She can handle herself,” assured Ben.

  “The farm boy is the leader now,” remarked the thief, rolling his shoulder and opening his quiver. “I suppose it’s not my concern if you die in the next few moments, but I hope you’re prepared.”

  Shouts drifted down from the upstairs hallway.

  “We should go,” murmured Ben.

  Cogdill shook his head. “Give it a moment. We want maximum chaos. As much distraction as we can achieve before we go in. Right now, they’re watching this place, wondering why you came in. They might know who we are, they might not. If we assault their palace right now, they’ll be ready. We won’t last more than two dozen heartbeats, so we wait.”

  Ben frowned and let his hand settle on the hilt of his longsword. Rhys and Prem drew their long knives. O’ecca held her naginata cross-wise in front of her, but Ben knew it’d be next to useless in the narrow confines of the hallways. Amelie closed her eyes and began to whisper to herself, one hand tucked into her belt pouch.

  The thief Cogdill watched Amelie as he fished a quarrel out of his quiver. Ben frowned. It looked like a normal crossbow bolt, but on the tip was a clay bulb. The man winked at Ben and replaced the steel-headed bolt that had been locked on his weapon. He tucked that one in a second quiver and cocked the new missile.

  “It will make a big boom,” he explained with a wink.

  Upstairs, Ben heard the crash of shattering wood and then a scream of pain.

  “They have no idea what they just walked into,” said Cogdill, a manic grin splitting his face. “We always knew there’d come a day when it was time to disappear from this building. Traps we’ve had in place since before I became a thief and now finally a chance to see what they can do.”

  Another nervous moment passed as the sounds of combat bounced down the stairwell and stone hallway. With each clash of steel and injured scream, Ben felt the tension grow in his body. Suddenly, there was a sharp crackle of released energy.

  “That was a mage,” murmured Amelie, her eyes still closed. “There’s at least one of them in the hallway upstairs.”

  “Time to go,” announced Cogdill.

  He flung open the door and grabbed an unlit torch from the wall inside. He ducked out and lit it from a lantern in the hallway and then led them into the darkness. They entered a narrow stairwell that had steep steps and a strange odor. It hovered between old fish, human waste, and dust.

  “Are we going to the sewers?” fretted Amelie.

  “Not quite,” said the thief.
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  The door behind them hung open, and Ben heard footsteps coming down the hall.

  “Don’t worry,” said the thief. “They’re with us.”

  Half a dozen steps past the doorway, Ben noticed a faint shimmer on the walls.

  “Wards,” hissed Amelie. “They’re… destructive.”

  “They are ours,” acknowledged the thief Cogdill from ahead of them. “When the building blows, I hope those wards will seal this passageway and hopefully any sign it ever existed. We’ve never been able to try it out, of course.”

  Ben thought the man sounded surprisingly gleeful at the prospect of his headquarters self-destructing. Then, he thought about what an enterprising gang of thieves could do with personal items stolen off the Veil. A couple of silver candlesticks were nothing compared to the wealth they could achieve in the next half-bell if everything went according to plan. A big if, thought Ben.

  The sounds of fighting faded as they went deeper and deeper underneath the palace. Soon, the walls gained a wet sheen in the torchlight, and Ben realized they were passing below sea level.

  “Watch your step. It’s slick,” called the thief ahead of them. “And from now on, I recommend we stay as silent as possible.”

  No one voiced any objections, and they descended another three flights of stairs. The only sounds were their cautious footsteps on the wet stone steps and the shuffle of movement behind them. The smell of the canals permeated the space.

  Finally, several floors below where Ben thought the water level was, they entered a dark tunnel. It extended in both directions, and in the flickering light of the torch, Ben could see openings which he assumed led to more branches.

  “How is this possible?” wondered Amelie, looking back and forth in the darkness.

  “A millennia of careful construction and concealment,” remarked Cogdill. “This is one of the reasons no one but the elders are allowed into our headquarters. It holds one of the few obvious doors into this network, and it’s the chief reason that building above us is about to be destroyed.”

  “Do you have an entrance to the Veil’s palace from here?” wondered Ben.