Benjamin Ashwood

by AC Cobble

  The menagerie only got wilder as they moved deeper into the party. There was an animal that Ben would have called a bear, if it wasn’t a quarter the size of ones he was familiar with in Farview. It was balancing on a colorful crimson ball being lead around the balcony by a man in a matching crimson vest and short cylindrical hat.

  A Mage, or at least a woman claiming to be one, held intense concentration on three golden rings in front of her. To Ben’s amazement, they looked to be floating freely in the air. As Amelie and Ben paused to watch, she waved her hands under and over the rings then produced a bright purple handkerchief. She bent over the handkerchief muttering words which Amelie said were gibberish then tossed the cloth into the air where it hovered briefly then shot through the three rings and into the waiting hands of a young woman who appeared shocked and amazed.

  The crowd broke into polite applause as the Mage bowed but Amelie sniffed and turned to go. “No real Mage would be involved in such a thing.”

  “It looked pretty real to me,” argued Ben. He nodded towards the woman who had caught the handkerchief who was loudly praising the Mage and eagerly showing her trophy to the other party goers. “She seems impressed.”

  “They’re clearly confederates. I’ve seen similar in Issen. It was well done, but still trickery. Look” she said gesturing to the crowd, “don’t you think people would be more interested if they thought she was really doing magic.”

  Ben had to admit, the crowd had thinned quickly so he and Amelie moved on as well.

  A bell later, the experience was getting overwhelming. As they circled the balcony the continuous assortment of entertainers started to blend in with the brightly dressed party goers. Wine was continuously passed by straight faced serving staff and as it flowed and the last light of day faded, everyone there seemed to merge together into one giant, choreographed show.

  He was disappointed to find there was no wyvern at the party, though there was plenty else to shock. In one corner of the balcony they peered into a close knit circle of revelers to see two bright blue painted and totally naked men mimicking graphic sexual acts on a similarly naked shimmering gold painted woman. A red faced and disgusted Ben quickly pulled Amelie away. Minutes later he was just as shocked to see a sweating, rotund and bulbous nosed man dressed from head to toe in floral patterned silk trimmed in a plethora of lace. He was pressing a young lady, maybe a third his age, against the stone railing that surrounded the balcony.

  The man was sloppily kissing the young woman’s neck and was pushing her skirts up with one hand nearly above her waist. The woman was giggling uncontrollably and kept admonishing several other girls nearby who must be her friends to go get help. The girls, instead of seeming concerned, kept shouting encouragement to the man and one even swooped in close to slap him on the behind with a closed fan before darting back away when he reached for her. He looked back longingly before returning to his original prey.

  “Shouldn’t we do something? I believe the man is attacking that girl.” Ben couldn’t help but think back to Murdoch’s when Meghan was about to be assaulted like this. He was on unfamiliar ground and didn’t want to start another fight, but he had to do something. Even if the poor girl’s friends wouldn’t.

  “She’s fine,” answered Amelie cooly. “That is Lord Rhymer but I have no idea who she is. If the old man doesn’t have a heart attack and is able to finish the job, getting knocked up by him would be the best thing that’s ever happened to her. He’s the Lord of Northport and the wealthiest man here, aside from Argren himself of course. He gets too drunk and is rarely able to consummate I am told, but from the times he was able he just has three bastard daughters. His actual wife has never been able to give him child. Any male offspring of his could be heir to Northport.”

  Amelie’s logic was cold. The idea that a young woman would subject herself to a man like that, for any reason, was unbelievable to Ben and somewhat depressing. The entire event was starting to put him on edge.

  They were rescued from more discussion on the topic by the arrival of a short, mousy looking man with a dark, angular face and hook beaked nose. His dark unadorned clothing set him aside from the crowd as much as his sour grimace. He appeared to be the only one with no interest in the insane party taking place around him.

  “Lady Amelie,” he took her hand and bowed over it before rising and curtly nodding in Ben’s general direction without making eye contact.

  “Tomas?” acknowledged Amelie with a questioning look.

  “I believe the fireworks are about to start, I have Rafael saving us a good spot near the railing. Would you care to join us?”

  “Of course, and then you must tell me what you’re doing here,” replied Amelie and she turned to follow the man into the crowd. Over her shoulder she explained to Ben, “Tomas is my father’s seneschal. He handles my father’s business when he is unavailable, or more often, when it bores him.”

  When they got to the railing Ben could see Rafael was Tomas’ security. He was dressed in practical loose clothing similar to Saala. But where Saala was lean like a mongoose, Rafael was stout and hulking like a wolverine. His head was also shaved like Saala’s and he had a network of white scars crossing from just above one ear to the back of his head. He quickly scanned Ben before dismissing him and bowed to Amelie.

  “Rafael, can you please go get us two glasses of that delightful sparkling wine. We must have a drink in hand to cheers for the…”

  “Three Rafael,” broke in Amelie.

  Tomas glanced at Ben, “it spoils the Man at Arms act when he’s drinking, but very well.”

  “He doesn’t need to be my Man at Arms, he can be my escort.”

  “Scandalous,” replied Tomas dryly.

  “Wait, I’m your what?” asked Ben.

  “It doesn’t do having a Lady like Amelie at these functions with no male by her side. It sends the wrong message and some of these gentlemen can get pushy,” murmured Tomas.

  Ben thought back to the unfortunate girl cornered by Rhymer and realized that made sense.

  “A Lady alone or a Lady with her female attendants is suggesting she’s open to advances,” added Amelie. “I of course am not open to any sort of advances by these men and never have been.” She winked at Ben and he felt his heart lighten. After the way she spoke about Rhymer, he felt shocked by her world and was worried about what she’d do to gain an advantage. He understood how one can be part of something but not a participant. He wouldn’t want people to judge him solely because he had been adopted by Alistair Pinewood.

  Tomas leaned in towards Amelie and started speaking quickly, “is he safe to speak in front of?” he asked with a look at Ben.

  Amelie nodded and Tomas continued, “while Rafael is gone then… that poor man hates it when I speak business in public. You are prepared for tomorrow?”

  “Of course I’m prepared. But like I said, what are you doing here?”

  “The Coalition made another offer to your father, but nothing has changed. I’m here to make sure Argren knows that.”

  “I’m ready and Argren is aware. At the beginning of the Conclave tomorrow we’ll announce our allegiance and that Issen joins Whitehall. That can’t be the only reason my father sent you though.”

  Tomas frowned and leaned in closer, “we heard about the Conclave shortly after you left. Weeks after Argren’s messenger should have been there. Something happened to him and he never made it. Sending you with little escort in the care of Saala and Towaal was the right decision. It’s dangerous for you to be in public like this and we hoped I would catch you before you announced yourself. Your father doesn’t know who else to trust.”

  Tomas shot a dark glance at Ben and the nearby revelers.

  “Oh don’t worry about it Tomas! Everyone knows I am here already and our decision will be known from the Citadel to the docks by 10th bell tomorrow. What’s the point of secrecy? My father has made up his mind and there’s nothing we will do from here to change it anyway.”


  With that, there was a sharp whistle followed by a massive boom. The railing shook and the entire night sky was lit a dazzling white as the first firework exploded in the air. Crackling streams of sparks descended towards the city and the first blast was followed by a quick succession of increasingly large flashes. The first salvo of fireworks was an iridescent white and it bathed the entire balcony, the face of the Citadel and all of the revelers in a stark white glow.

  Ruined Evening

  The grand finale of the fireworks show lived up to the name Spectacular. It started with a low flat explosion of green sparkles that lingered in the air, drifting over the ships in the port far below. Then, behind the guests on the balcony a cacophony of horns sounded in a thrilling mixture of traditional hunting calls and alarm.

  Ben looked back and saw the wall of Citadel was lined with horn players. Argren must have forced out the entire barracks and bought every instrument in the city to put together that many of them he thought. As he turned back towards the blanket of green sparkles he saw Amelie smiling down at them. The green light of the fireworks reflected in the emeralds she was wearing and highlighted the gentle curve of her neck. He swallowed the lump in his throat but the moment was interrupted when the tone of the horns changed and a brilliant wave of red and gold arced into the sky.

  The fireworks went off with a roar and the entire crowd took a step back as the entire vista filled with a red and gold beast swooping towards them with wide open maw. The creature would have been nearly the size of Whitehall itself. The crackle and hiss of the exploding lights added to the illusion that the beast was imminently going to rain fire down onto the party goers.

  “Wyvern!” shouted an alarmed and slurred voice from behind them.

  Ben and Amelie grinned at each other but Ben had to admit, the fire and smoke monster was frightening. As it grew closer, the lights started popping and crackling out until they flashed into darkness and a warm save of sulpherous air drifted over crowd.

  Across the entire city there was silence until an enormous cheer broke out. From the bottom of the Port to the top of the Citadel, the citizens and guests of Whitehall were screaming, clapping and banging whatever they could to make noise.

  Amelie took Ben’s arm and leaned against him, staring out down at the city and celebration below. Smaller fireworks shot up sporadically from below as the citizens who could afford it put on their own version of the show. It almost felt like these hundreds of thousands of cheers were just for the two of them.

  When the smoke cleared and some of the excitement on the balcony began to fade, the crowd turned to make their way back through the halls of the Citadel and into the city. For many, the celebration was just getting started. Though Ben saw several people he thought should start sleeping it off now. The Conclave was starting early in the morning.

  Amelie still had her arm hooked around Ben’s as they made their way towards the entry to the building. Ben caught Tomas staring at him with a blank face. The man was the right hand of Amelie’s father. Ben thought he understood the look and made a note to watch his back.

  Suddenly, a man pushed past Ben heading back out onto the balcony.

  “What are you doing? I’m an important guest for the Conclave. I’ll have the guards on you!” shouted a tipsy sounding man.

  “Two drunks are about to go at it! I heard they’re sending for swords.”

  Several more of the crowd turned to follow the man who had pushed through. A duel was more entertaining than what the taverns and wine shops in the city had to offer.

  Amelie pulled on Ben to keep going. “Stupid men doing stupid things. There’s always one or two at parties like this. They probably stepped on each other’s toes or someone took the last sparkling wine. Such a waste, like there isn’t more in the world to worry about.”

  Ben had to agree. No one dueled in Farview of course, but the stories were full of them. In the stories, it was always over a girl.

  Before they made it into the entrance of the Citadel they saw Saala coming the other way. He nodded back towards the balcony and said, “you’ll want to see this.”

  Ben raised an eyebrow and they fell in behind Saala and joined the crowd gathering around two shouting men.

  “You will die for this!” snarled a man as the sounds of a scuffle broke out.

  “Fredrick, wait until the man is armed or you’ll be paying for it also.”

  Through the pack of people they could see a short balding man being held back by two grey haired men. The grey haired men had the build of those who had seen their share of battle but they were struggling keep the energetic smaller man from rushing forward.

  Before they could see the target of his wrath they heard a man slur, “whatcha holding him back for? The little sword he’s packing couldn’t hurt a mouse, least that’s what I heard from his wife.”

  Ben’s heart sank. He’d heard that drunken slur before. Rhys.

  The short bald man redoubled his efforts to break loose and howled, “this is to the death. I will not stand for this!”

  One of the grey haired men holding him glared back at Rhys and demanded, “stop it, both of you. A duel has been agreed and you can settle your differences, but we’re going to do this right. I will make sure it’s done right or it won’t be done. Do you understand me?”

  “Yes General,” said the short man in a huff. He was still extremely agitated but he no longer fought to get to Rhys. For Rhys’ part, he was swaying around at the far side of the circle of onlookers and seemed to be having trouble focusing.

  “How many of you are there? I see four. I gotta fight all four?” Rhys was squinting towards the three men and holding up his hands in a boxing stance.

  “Look now,” said the man who had been called General. “This fellow is too drunk to see straight. This is not right.”

  The crowd chimed in with a chorus of boos until an icy look from the man silenced them. They were here to see blood. If it waited until tomorrow in the sober light of day, this duel may not happen.

  Saala slipped from Ben’s side and stepped into the circle. “I believe this man has given Lord Fredrick cause. This is a sensitive matter. There is a Lady involved. We can settle it this evening.”

  The General appraised Saala, “and who are you?”

  “I’m the man’s travelling companion. I can serve as his second.”

  “Aye, he’s my second. Couldn’t have a better man for it either!” crowed Rhys. “Although, I’m not sure it’s the little fella’s woman I was with. She’s a Lady right? The wench I was bedding certainly wasn’t acting like a Lady. Ladies don’t have you bend them over and make you call them a filthy whore, do they?” Rhys peered quizzically at Saala.

  Lord Fredrick lunged again towards Rhys and was barely caught by the other man holding him. The General’s shoulders visibly slumped and he stepped into the center of the circle. “It appears that despite my reservations that this will happen tonight.” He nodded towards Saala, “since you know this man and have agreed to proceed as his second, I will take the same role for Lord Fredrick. We will continue until both parties are satisfied or one combatant is unable to continue. You may choose your weapons.”

  A heavy broadsword was passed to Lord Fredrick and a woman hurried forward. The same woman Ben had seen Rhys in the closet with. Ben groaned, it seemed this woman did have a dangerous husband. The man did not appear to have the stature of a warrior but his sword had telltale nicks in it that only came from use.

  “You don’t need to do this,” pleaded the woman. “This man is nothing! He’ll likely be hung as a thief or worse by next week. I was stupid!”

  Fredrick backhanded the woman across the face and sent her tumbling towards the crowd. “If the man was nothing it should have been left as a diversion while I was at sea. I will deal with you later.” He swung his broadsword through the air as if to reacquaint himself with the balance and turned towards Rhys, “you should have left it as well. I could understand you thinking you could get
away with this while I was away. I could have understood it as a mistake and maybe just left you a cripple. But tonight? That is too much. For that you will die.”

  The General was slowly pivoting, keeping himself between Fredrick and Rhys. He turned towards Rhys, “do you have a blade?”

  Rhys just stared back at him. An enthusiastic young man from the crowd stepped forward proffering a slender rapier and smirking. “Use this good man. She’s served me well.”

  Saala glanced down at the delicate weapon then back up to meet Rhys’ eyes.

  The crowd was turning nasty thought Ben as Rhys swished the rapier back and forth. They wouldn’t be satisfied until they got blood. Ben grabbed Amelie and whispered, “he’s going to get killed! That rapier won’t stand against a broadsword. It will snap the first time they make contact. I don’t understand why Saala is letting this happen, we have to stop it!”

  “I think you’re about to be surprised,” answered Amelie in a hushed tone. She nodded to the opposite side of the circle. “See Lady Towaal over there. I saw her gesture to Saala before he stepped in. Rhys is her hired man and she’s been with him for months if not longer. She doesn’t look worried to me. He’s good enough to get hired by a Mage and I suspect he knows exactly what he’s doing.”

  “I don’t know,” worried Ben. “He doesn’t even look like he can see straight. And I’m not sure if Lady Towaal cares about anyone other than herself. And sometimes you,” he added. He had to admit though, Amelie made a point.

  Towaal was casual chatting with another woman next to her. She held up her wine glass, swirled it around, sniffed it and pointed to it. The woman nodded and did the same with her own glass before taking a sip and remarking back to Towaal with a smile.

  The General brought everyone’s attention to the circle when he loudly declared, “when I step away you may begin. Remember, if one combatant becomes incapacitated, it will stop there.” He looked directly at Fredrick when he said it.