Benjamin Ashwood

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Benjamin Ashwood Page 14

by AC Cobble


  “You seem to know a lot about what I’ve been doing but I haven’t seen much of you. Where have you been?”

  “Ah Ben, surely you know what I’ve been doing. We’re in this big city sharing quarters with the high and mighty. It’s a well-known fact that any beautiful city is bound to be full of beautiful women. Why would you spend time on that dirty practice field with a bunch of scruffy looking men?”

  “Scruffy looking men?” answered Ben skeptically. He eyed Rhys up and down. The man was a born rogue and even after regular baths and clean clothes he looked the part.

  “I know what you’re thinking Ben. You’re thinking that surely these gorgeous high born ladies must only be interested in the foppish court dandys. Judging by the amount of lace and perfume the men of Argren’s court wear, that’s certainly what they think. But no! You couldn’t be more wrong. These ladies are looking for something different. They appreciate a man who’s seen the world and can take care of himself. They like a bit of danger Ben, I swear it’s true.”

  “Is that your line, that you’re dangerous?”

  Rhys guffawed, “oh, I am certainly not dangerous. Not to any warm willing woman at least. But her husband probably is.”

  “Her husband! Tell me he’s not some lord of this place! What are you doing with a married woman?”

  “Don’t you worry boy, spend enough time with me and I’ll teach you the ways of the world. In fact, I’ve got some time on my hands now. Her husband being recently returned from his voyage to Fabrizo.” Rhys stood up and stretched. “I’ve had quite a workout the last few days and I hear you have too, although certainly not as enjoyable as mine. Let’s run through the second set of Ohms. That will make us right.”

  The rest of the afternoon was spent working on the second of the Thirty Ohms. By evening, Ben felt relaxed and refreshed. The light exercise of the movements felt good after several long days on the practice field.

  Dinner that evening was in the small common area adjacent to their rooms. It was just the second time in Whitehall that all of the men in their party dined together. Rhys had been off gallivanting around with his Lady friend, Ben and Saala had been spending time with the guardsmen and Renfro had been occasionally tagging along but mostly vanishing when other people were about. He said it made him nervous being around so many high born and arms men.

  The food was plain and simple but Ben enjoyed it. He also enjoyed reconnecting with his companions. Even though it had only been a few days, it seemed like longer. He had quickly grown to see the group as part of his family and over the last month he’d rarely been away from any of them. He turned the discussion to the women who they had barely seen since arrival in Whitehall.

  “I wonder how Amelie, Meredith and Meghan are doing?”

  “They’re doing fine,” Saala responded dryly. “Meghan has fallen in with Meredith and is passing as another handmaiden to Amelie. She doesn’t like it of course, but it’s safer that way. An Initiate of the Sanctuary isn’t like a full member, but that doesn’t mean someone wouldn’t want to get their talons in her. Amelie has been busy meeting with the other Princes and Princesses in town. Every time there is a gathering like this they size each other up. Next generation of rulers and all. Potential marriages to evaluate, commercial arrangements, promises to make, promises to break, spying. It’s the usual.”

  “The usual?” asked Ben incredulously. “That sounds horrible.”

  Saala shrugged nonchalantly. “It is horrible. But that is the way business is done with the high born. Always something in exchange for something else. And it’s better of course if you can get what you want without having to give up what the other guy wanted. It’s all a big game, a game with consequences, but usually that means pain for someone else. It’s rare when the young high born get out of hand and one ends up hurt or dead.”

  “Dead!” blurted a shocked Ben.

  “Sounds like the Thieves Guild,” added Renfro. “You put enough power or gold on the line and someone always ends up dead. Same as the Merchants Guild and I guess it’s the same all over.”

  “Yep, I gotta agree with the little thief,” drawled Rhys. “It’s the way the world works up top. Doesn’t matter who they are or how they got there. Usually it’s by birth but maybe you’re one of the lucky ones who make it big. Once you’re there, it’s all about the power and the money.”

  “Well, not always about the power and the money,” smiled Saala. He saw the conversation was upsetting Ben. “Someone like Amelie isn’t out to do harm, but she still has to play the game. She will do anything to protect her family and her people.”

  Rhys snorted. “Protect them or use them. I’ll give you, she seems better than most. But you get that kind of power, it’s because you built it off the backs of others.” Rhys took a long pull of ale, strangely just his second mug by Ben’s count. “It’s about leverage boys. The guy on the top of the pyramid is there because they climbed over everyone else. You look at this Conclave. Argren’s already the ruler of one of the most powerful cities on the continent of Alcott but he’s reaching for more. He can’t do it with just his armies so he’s recruiting others. It’s leverage.”

  “But, if he’s just grabbing power, why would Issen and the others join him?”

  “Because they’re scared or because they think they can grab a little bigger piece for themselves in the process. He’s drumming up this threat from the Coalition. Maybe they’re a threat, maybe not. Maybe the Coalition is telling all the Lords in the east that Argren is the real threat. Either way, there’s going to be war. First, the Alliance and Coalition will consolidate their power bases until they just got each other to look at. Then it will start. The reason why only matters to the historians. For us, it’s all about how to survive their game until tomorrow and then the next day.”

  Saala raised his mug, “survive until tomorrow.”

  The next day, Ben was back out on the practice field. Some of Seth’s friends were eager to try their hand at the man who struck Master Brinn so there was no shortage of opponents. Ben found quickly that they all tended towards the same patterns and used the same forms and strokes that Seth did. Some were a little quicker, some were a little cleaner in their execution, but none of them were creative fighters.

  Halfway through the morning Seth pulled Ben aside, “wow, you’ve improved a lot since that first day we sparred.”

  “You must be training me well,” quipped Ben. Inside he knew that it wasn’t that he was getting that much better, he was just able to anticipate what the green guardsmen were going to try next because they all tried the same thing.

  “Oh, I’m not sure how much credit I can take. But I know Master Brinn was impressed too. I wouldn’t be surprised if he asks you to join us soon. We can always use a good man like you. In a few months you’ll be one of the best blades we have!” Seth was beaming with excitement but Ben struggled to maintain his smile. This was unexpected and a bit unwelcome. Ben had bonded quickly with the young men of the Citadel but he had no intention of joining them. His loyalties to Meghan and his other companions ran deeper.

  “We’ll see,” mumbled Ben. “He hasn’t asked me yet.”

  “He will! Some of the guys have already been talking about you starting in the guards and skipping the greenhorn class. It’s going to be great!”

  Ben started to stall but he was saved when one of Master Brinn’s other Assistants started calling for Seth. A new class of trainees was starting the next day so Seth said he had a lot of work to do getting ready for them. As he dashed off, Ben slowly walked over to the water trough where they kept cool water for rinsing off and drinking after practice.

  Ben stripped off his practice armor and sweat soaked shirt to splash water all over his face and torso. He felt like the last few days in Whitehall were boiling over. Saala’s warnings about questions, the discussion about the power of the high born the night before and now the guards were hinting at an offer to join their ranks. His dreams of travelling through big citie
s had never been this complicated.

  “Hi Ben.”

  He was startled from his contemplation of the water trough and saw Amelie had quietly approached behind him. Some swordsman I am he thought. Snuck up on by a Lady in an open field during broad daylight.

  “Hi Amelie. How have you been? I mean, how has Whitehall been?”

  “I’ve been busy. I heard you are making quite a name for yourself amongst the guards. One of them asked me yesterday if you were going to stay. Are you considering it?”

  Ben thought apparently everyone but him knew about the offer. “Uh, no, they haven’t really asked me yet. I won’t stay though. I want to finish this with you. And Meghan and the others too,” he finished quickly.

  “I’m sorry we haven’t seen each other much the last few days. There’s so much to do before the start of the Conclave tomorrow. But I was thinking, are you going to the fireworks show tonight?”

  A fireworks spectacular was to be held to mark the start of the Conclave and was going to go off down at the port. The way Whitehall was built, tiered into the side of the mountain, nearly everyone in the city would be able to see the show with no obstructions.

  “I, um, some of the guards are going to Meggy’s and are going to watch from the roof. Meggy’s is a tavern they go to... How about you?” he finished lamely.

  “I, well, I was invited to a party on the Citadel’s veranda. Argren is hosting a Gala. There will be a lot of people there. I was wondering if you would like to go?”

  “I…” stammered Ben.

  “It’s ok if you don’t want to. I’m sure Miggy’s, is that what you called it? I’m sure it will be very nice.”

  “No, no. I want to go. I definitely want to go. It’s just, well, I’ve never been to a Gala. What do I even wear to something like that?”

  “No way!” shouted Renfro. “I can’t believe it. The Lady Amelie asked you on a date!”

  “It wasn’t like that,” protested Ben.

  Seth leaned in, “I heard it was like that. I heard she said you looked good without a shirt on too. Heard it from one of the other guardsmen who was walking by.”

  “She just said I was looking fit.” Ben realized that wasn’t going anywhere productive. “I’ve been working with the sword a lot recently. I’ve put on a little muscle, that’s all.” He cringed, that wasn’t any better.

  Renfro collapsed back into the couch he was perched on, howling with laughter. “It’s a fairy tale romance! The poor brewer boy catches the eye of the high born maiden with his beefy muscles. Unfortunately, this tale ends in tragedy. The poor brewer boy doesn’t know what to do with a high born maiden!”

  Ben ground his teeth. He’d rushed back to the rooms and immediately told Renfro what had happened. Seth had shown up minutes later telling how the entire practice yard was buzzing with rumors that some foreign guardsmen trainee was escorting Lady Amelie to the Grand Fireworks Spectacular. They hadn’t stopped since. The thing wasn’t ‘Grand’ when Seth had been talking about watching it from Meggy’s.

  He was saved from further harassment when Meredith showed up at the rooms with one of the Citadel’s groomsmen. They had the assignment of making sure Ben had proper attire.

  She shooed Renfro and Seth out of the door and instructed the groomsman to draw a bath.

  “Well,” she said with a growing mischievous smile, “are you going to undress or would you like me to help?”

  Two bells after being briskly bathed and dressed by the groomsman, Ben was still cooling his heels in Amelie’s waiting room. It was a beautiful room, certainly the nicest Ben had ever been in, but it was starting to get boring. There’s only so much time one can spend contemplating which farms you could buy in Farview with the pair of gold candlesticks, the crystal bowls or the rich thick carpets.

  A mechanical device with two thin hands moving around a circular face took up a good portion of his time. It wasn’t until both of the hands pointed directly upwards and the thing emitted seven chimes that he realized it must be a clock. He’d heard about them of course, and people in Farview referred to time in bells, but even the Pinewoods didn’t have enough money to purchase one of these.

  Both Meredith and Meghan occasionally popped in to check on him but Amelie was nowhere to be seen. The girls said she was getting ready and seemed outright offended when he asked how it could possibly be taking this long. Meghan, who Ben felt should have been sympathetic to his plight, was not appreciating the situation.

  “A Lady takes as long as she needs to. If you just sit here long enough you will have a wonderful time tonight with your Lady friend. I’m sure it will be oh so grand.” The dramatic eye roll was a little much thought Ben.

  “Come on Meghan. What is she doing in there? I’ve been out here half the evening and this stuff is itching!” He pulled at the snug grey tights the groomsman had foisted on him. He had never worn anything like it and would have thought it was a cruel joke except he’d seen many of the men around the Citadel wearing them.

  “She’s preparing for a Gala Ben. I’ve never been to one of course, but I’m sure the Lords and Ladies will all be decked out in their finest. Amelie said there will be more high born at this Conclave than there were when Argren’s daughter got married, although the costumes will be less colorful. There will be banquets, musicians, jesters, play actors and I heard there will even be a captive wyvern.”

  “A wyvern!” Ben couldn’t believe it. Wyverns were mythical beasts that even after travelling on the road with a Blademaster, Mage and a Lady he still would have bet only lived in the stories. Even Old Gamson claimed they only existed in ancient times. They were supposed to be giant lizards with terrible claws that could fly and breathe fire. Children’s stories. “I don’t think wyverns really exist. Maybe the play actors are pretending to be one”

  “You could be right,” sighed Meghan. “You were always the one who knew about the stories. But still, it will be a grand evening and I’m jealous, that’s all. I’m sorry I’m giving you such a hard time about it.”

  “Jealous, what do you mean? I’m just going with Amelie as friends. Why does everyone think it’s more?” Ben hoped it was more of course, but he wasn’t going to say that aloud.

  “Oh, I know it’s just as friends. I’m not jealous of your ‘date’ with Amelie.” Another eye roll, “but I won’t be able to go to the party. There are too many high born in town for the Conclave for everyone to fit on the balcony. We were told it was just Lady Amelie, Lady Towaal and their guests. No serving staff.”

  “Oh… Meghan, you’re not really her handmaiden. It’s just pretend until we get out of here.”

  “I know. I remember that very well. I just hope she does too when we leave.”

  A quarter bell later, according to the clock face, Ben’s jaw dropped. Amelie peeked in before stepping into the room and she looked stunning. She was draped in a flowing green silk gown that left her shoulders bare and spread out across the floor behind her. Her dark hair was raised in an elaborate sparkling jewel studded bun and she was decked in a dazzling array of emeralds around her neck and wrists. As she came into the room, a subtle scent of mountain wildflowers floated around her. The entire impression was breathtaking. He found his eye drawn to her face. Her lips were glistening cherry red, her cheeks were lightly flushed and around her eyes was a smoky shadow that drew him in and held his gaze. Even when he was very interested in the way some other parts of her looked.

  “Amelie…”

  She twitched her dress and teasingly said, “you’re supposed to be telling me how beautiful I am.”

  “I… You are beautiful. I’ve never seen anything like this, I mean anyone. I mean, you look good,” he finished weakly.

  “Ha, you are sweet. Argren had a seamstress and jeweler sent and I’m worried it didn’t turn out like they envisioned.”

  “I mean it Amelie. Really. I’ve seen girls in dresses and girls with their hair done for a wedding or the spring dance, but nothing like this. No one who l
ooked as amazing as you. I’m not exaggerating, you’re the most beautiful girl I have ever seen.”

  “Well, you’ll soon see a lot of girls like me,” she said with a vivid blush. “Half of Whitehall. Well, half of the wealthy in Whitehall anyway. All of the women will be dressed like this. But I appreciate it.”

  Ben didn’t have a lot of experience with girls and she’d caught him off guard, but he wasn’t stupid.

  The Citadel’s Gala for the Grand Fireworks Spectacular honoring the First Conclave of the Alliance was growing in name and noise as they approached. A wide stone path between splashing fountains and ponds was lit by roaring fires and populated by towering long legged jesters juggling and cavorting through the crowd. Amelie whispered over the noise of a nearby pack of musicians that the jesters were standing on tall wooden poles called stilts.

  As they approached the actual balcony they passed a wave of men and women loaded with glasses of red, white and bubbling wines followed by more serving staff carrying silver trays piled with arrangements of delicate foods. Ben had never had the bubbling wine before but at Amelie’s suggestion he plucked two glasses from a passing tray, handed her one and gave it a try. It was crisp but sweet and tingled and popped in his mouth as he swished it around.

  Before he could even comment on the drink, he ducked from a billow of flame exploding in front of a shirtless, sweating man holding a flickering torch. The man cartwheeled off into the crowd and heartbeats later another burst of flame leapt up into the air to the delighted shouts of nearby revelers.

  Ben turned back to Amelie but again before he could speak an orange and black striped beast strolled by with a scrawny turbaned man straddling it’s back. The animal had fangs the size of Ben’s forearm protruding from a head larger than his torso and it’s shoulders were even with his. A shudder ran down his back at the thought of that creature attacking, but it seemed tame and calmly sidestepped one of the jesters on stilts who had wandered in from the entryway.

 

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