by AC Cobble
“It can’t be all bad, the Sanctuary for example helps a lot of people,” said Ben.
“It’s a generalization, but I’ve found it to be more true than false. Certainly more true than other places I’ve been. And the Sanctuary only helps those who help them hold onto power. Think about Towaal in Farview. She helped that brother of yours, but it came at a price. I’m not saying there is no good in the people of The City, there is some. Just be prepared. Everyone there knows where they stand relative to everyone else and that’s all that matters for some of them. Don’t play their games if you don’t want, although that’s harder than it sounds. My advice, get good at the games and play them only when it benefits you.” Rhys smiled as he tucked the gold coin into his purse.
Ben shook his head and went to join the other young people and Saala at the bow of the vessel. He knew Rhys meant well with his warning. Maybe The City was worse than most, but the money and the power. That sounded like everywhere else he’d been.
The City
The rest of the country estates did not disappoint. They were grand affairs that sprawled across the hillsides and bluffs overlooking the river. Further out they were built of limestone, granite and other field stones but closer to The City they were uniformly clad in marble and intricate stonework. Ben marveled at the time and resources that went into building these massive edifices solely to house one family and only part of the time.
As Ben stood on the deck watching the buildings go by, they swept in close to one particular estate and he realized it must be Reinhold’s. A veritable army of workers was erecting a new wing just like Reinhold had stated. The scale of the place was unreal and Ben struggled to connect the overwhelming sense of wealth of the place with the fact that he was on a boat with it’s owner. Even after taking Alistair’s money to watch over Meghan, Ben still had more fingers than gold coins. A man like Reinhold could probably spend the rest of his natural life counting and still not know how many coins he had.
“What’s the point?” Ben wondered to himself.
“That’s how they keep score,” answered a gruff voice.
Ben turned to see Captain Fishbone had come up behind him.
“I… I didn’t mean any offence to Lord Reinhold,” stammered Ben.
“Ha, don’t worry about that. Lord Reinhold knows just as well as you and I that it’s silly. Don’t get me wrong, the Lord enjoys the finer things in life, but he’s building rooms in that estate that he’ll never even see.”
“So, why does he do it? You said it’s about keeping score. Score with the other Lords and merchants?”
“Aye. Lord Reinhold isn’t married, doesn’t have any kids that he admits to and spends most of his time on my boat. The only reason he keeps building on that estate is to show the other Lords that he can. He builds a little, they build a little more to keep up, he builds again and by the end of it, you have these damn big houses that no one can even use. It’s all about keeping score. Showing who’s most successful or who’s the most powerful. You stop expanding one season, don’t buy a faster vessel, don’t buy your mistress a bigger diamond and suddenly everyone thinks you stopped because you have to. You’ve played cards right? Sometimes you gotta keep putting more money into the pot if you want to stay seated at the table.”
“That sounds awful,” grunted Ben.
Fisheye shrugged. “I suppose it is awful. Awful and addicting. The most exciting game out there if you ask Reinhold. It’s certainly not about the money at this point.”
They sailed on and Ben and Fishbone watched Reinhold’s estate disappear around a perfectly manicured emerald green bend.
The grandeur of the country estates though, even Reinhold’s, did little to prepare Ben and the other young folk for the first sight of The City itself.
The City was located in a natural basin where the Venmoor and the smaller Razen River met. It comprised a huge island in the center of the river basin but over the centuries had expanded to the banks surrounding it. Technically, The City referred to just the buildings on the island but most used the term for the entire sprawl.
Rhys explained, “in the past, each of the little towns on the bank had it’s own name, but they’ve all kind of grown together now. Some of them still have their own town councils and the like. I have no idea how they keep it straight which is which.”
Ben silently agreed. The “towns” were the size of about 100 Farviews all strung together in a huge circle around the water. It was impressive, if only for the size and the number of people Ben thought must be living there.
They saw the towns first and didn’t get a full view of The City until their sloop entered the river basin. The island on which it sat was huge. Ben estimated at least two leagues long and a league wide. And all along the length there were massive buildings, delicate palaces and most striking, thin towers soaring into the air. Ben had seen nothing like it before. Some of the towers must have had the elevation of Whitehall, but where the port city was built on a mountainside, these towers reached into the sky with no support at all. Many of them looked like a strong wind could send them toppling.
As they drew closer, Ben’s breath caught. Linking the towers was a network of barely visible bridges. Some towers had numerous connections and some only had one or two. He thought that many of those bridges were 15 or 20 stories above the ground and a few rose even higher than that. He almost had to look away as he started to pick out tiny figures making their way across the bridges.
“The sky bridges of The City”, said Rhys. “It looks crazy but think about it, if you walk 20 stories up one of those towers, you don’t want to walk back down just to chat up your neighbor and borrow sugar. They say there are people who get up there and never come back down.”
“Oh my,” said Amelie in a quivering voice. “We have towers in Issen but nothing like this. How is it even possible these do not fall over? Is it something the Sanctuary does with magic?”
“I’m not the person to ask about that. The masons of The City are more close-lipped than the blacksmiths in Venmoor. I do know it doesn’t have anything to do with the Sanctuary. You can’t tell from here, but The Sanctuary doesn’t have any buildings over four stories. This is all done by hand. Look,” he pointed to one squat tower near the waterfront.
Scaffolding and ropes dangled from the sides of the structure and Ben saw they were still building it. A pallet of heavy looking stones lifted into the air. There was some sort of loop and rope apparatus a handful of men were using to pull it up.
“Amazing,” gasped Amelie. “I’ve seen artist renderings of what it looks like but none of them do justice to this.”
“Why do they build them so high?” questioned Renfro. “That’s great some genius figured out they could do it, but that doesn’t mean they should do it. A serious storm or little earthquake and this whole place is coming down.”
“Space,” replied Rhys. “Like we were talking about with the estates, space is very expensive here. Every inch of that island outside the Sanctuary grounds is built on or designated public space. You want more room, you build up or you move out. As for the safety of it, in my time here there haven’t been any incidents. The City and some of these buildings have been around for millennia, I suspect they will be around for many more.”
“Where is the Sanctuary in all of this? Is it away from The City?” asked Ben. “I pictured it in some reclusive setting off by itself. You know, like a sanctuary…”
Rhys grinned and pointed to the north end of the island. Easy to overlook with the rest of the vista in front of them there was a large patch of green dotted with low white buildings.
“Physically it’s not far from the rest of The City, but believe me, it sure feels it.”
The docks of The City seemed pedestrian compared to the rest of the place. It wasn’t the hulking war galleys and merchant ships that populated Whitehall’s harbor. These were personal river craft and other small vessels. The barges they’d seen on the river must tie up elsewhere.
Still, it was a place bustling with activity and the First Mate Fisheye did an impressive job steering them past the clutter and dropping sail before a small pilot skiff darted out to meet them.
The pilot eyed Lord Reinhold’s colors then tossed up a heavy rope which Reinhold’s crew expertly looped around the hawsers. A handful of men leaned hard on the oars in the pilot skiff and started inching them towards Lord Reinhold’s open dock.
Lady Towaal appeared from below with Amelie and Meghan in tow. “Rhys,” she ordered, “show the boys some lodging and report before nightfall. No carousing!”
Rhys winked at Ben and mock bowed towards Towaal which elicited an indelicate snort and eye roll from her. “At your command My Lady.”
Amelie stepped over to Ben and waved Saala close. “Lady Towaal says we’re confined to the grounds during the first few months of training but usually Newday is a free day. She says you can come visit us in the Sanctuary’s parks. We won’t be able to do much sword training there, but maybe that can come later. After we obtain enough rank that we’re not green Initiates we’re allowed off the grounds on the free days so I can come visit you. Here,” she said and passed Ben and Saala each a small pouch. “Your pay Saala for another three months. I know you plan to stay for a while, but I want you to have this now in case we don’t see each other for a bit. Ben, hopefully that is enough seed money to start your business. Face time is limited but you’re allowed to write so I expect regular updates on my investment!”
Her bitter sweet grin told Ben she wasn’t serious about her investment. He saw she already was missing the time they’d spent together. He felt it as well.
“Of course Amelie, I’ll come every Newday and write you plenty. I can’t wait until you can get out and we can explore the city together.”
“Watch out for him will you?” a watery eyed Amelie asked Saala.
Saala nodded, “I’ll keep an eye on him. I’ll be in town until your father’s agents in The City tell me otherwise. You know you only have to call and I will come running.”
The goodbyes were interrupted when the sloop nudged up against the dock and Lord Reinhold’s men slid a narrow gangplank down. A brisk Lady Towaal was the first one on the gangplank and she gestured for Amelie and Meghan to follow. A quick peck on the cheek from each girl for Ben and rushed hugs for the other men and they were off.
The men lifted their few belongings to follow but were stopped by Lord Reinhold.
“Rhys,” said Lord Reinhold as he glanced to where Lady Towaal was vanishing into the crowds around the dock. “I’d offer you a position but I suspect you’re already well compensated by the Mages. I have work for a man of your talents. If the Veil ever lets you off the leash for some part time work, I can make it worth your while. In addition to the gold you got earlier, I have many other special items a man like you would find useful. You too,” he said to Saala, “if you get bored watching Lord Gregor’s daughter, I can find you something more interesting.”
Rhys grinned, “well, we both love a challenge of course and I’m sure you’d be a great boss, but like you say, we’re already happily employed.”
Reinhold shrugged, “employed now doesn’t mean employed tomorrow. It’s an open offer. Good luck.” He nodded curtly and stalked off towards his cabin.
“What, no job offer for me?” chuckled Renfro.
Rhys gave him a light shove and said, “come on, let’s go see The City.”
What had looked from a distance like a disorganized jumble of soaring towers, grand arenas and palaces was actually well delineated in clean grids when they saw it up close. Broad tree lined avenues were laid out neatly and small lush parks dotted the major intersections.
Rhys talked as they moved along the smooth paved streets. “Long ago, before even the current Veil can remember, this entire island was owned by the Sanctuary. They must have realized over time that it made sense to have staff and services nearby so they sold off pieces but still retain leadership of everything on the island. They kept a lot of open public spaces. They collect all of the taxes on the island and pay for the maintenance. It’s all planned and managed from within the Sanctuary.” He breathed in deep, “you’ll notice it’s the greenest and cleanest city you’ve ever been. I have a lot of problems with the way the Sanctuary does it’s business, but I’ve got to admit, they know how to run a city.”
“Problems? Don’t you work for the Sanctuary? Or at least for Lady Towaal?” asked Renfro.
“Aye, I work the Sanctuary. They pay the best. Doesn’t mean I always have to agree with what they do though. You didn’t agree with everything the thieves were doing in Fabrizo did you? Don’t answer, let me guess. You and your little thief buddies spent most of your time complaining about that Guild and it’s policies?”
“Hmm,” Renfro scratched his head, “you’re right. When you explain it like that it makes a lot of sense.”
“So, what exactly do you do for the Sanctuary?” asked Ben. He had his suspicions of course. Rhys was slippery when it came to certain topics so he hoped to catch him off guard while he was in a talkative mood. Saala perked up as well. He’d been studying the architecture they passed but he was obviously also curious about what Rhys would say.
Rhys laughed, “a little bit of this and a little bit of that. Most of this town is somehow involved in Sanctuary business, but some things don’t need to be discussed in public, you know? Let’s just say they send me where I need to be to make sure their interests are being protected. In some cases that means making sure threats to their interests do not manifest. Just like our friend Saala, right?”
Saala frowned, “I’m not sure what I do is just like what you do. But if you say so, I’ll go along with it.”
“Right,” continued Rhys. “So what do you want first? The bawdiest boudoir, the sweetest singing minstrel, the brightest wine, the coldest ale? The City isn’t cheap, you may quickly run out of money, but you’ll never run out of things to do.”
With a little nudging from Saala, Rhys was persuaded to show them some comfortable beds before he took off to make his report to the Sanctuary. He picked an airy looking plain stone building ringed by arched windows. It was a few blocks down from his apartment and he knew the owner so he said he could get them a better rate than they’d find elsewhere. It was small and simple compared to some of the places they’d stayed on the journey, but it was a good sight better than the bushes and rocks they’d slept next to. Even the discounted rate gave Ben pause, but Rhys assured them that it was a better deal than they’d find elsewhere.
That evening, bathed and refreshed, Ben, Renfro and Saala sat in the common room to dine and to plan. Now that they had finally made it to the end of their journey, they had to answer the question of what came next. Ben and Renfro were committed to starting a brewery as neither had any other marketable skills and Saala had graciously agreed to assist. With Amelie safely ensconced in the Sanctuary and no further instructions, he was free to help until he got called away.
“Location, equipment, supply of materials and customers. Those are the four problems we’ll need to solve,” started Ben.
“I can help with the customers I guess,” said Renfro. “I don’t know too much about the other things. With the Guild in Fabrizo, one of my roles was sizing marks. This can’t be too different, can it?”
“Sadly, it’s probably not,” smiled Saala. “If you tell me what you need Ben, I might be able to help with a location. Showing the Blademaster sigil occasionally has some perks – people tend to be a little easier in negotiations.”
“Ok, that leaves the equipment and materials to me. Once we get the location and that lined up, we can start brewing.”
The next two weeks were a blur of activity getting the brewery set up. They received a message from Amelie and Meghan that their first two free days were cancelled for extra classes, so the men focused on the business. In that time, Saala was able to find a suitable location, Ben got the equipment and materials and Renfro scouted some poten
tial customers. No one wanted to commit without tasting the beer, as Ben suspected would happen, but they’d found some people unhappy with their current supplier.
They accomplished a lot in two weeks thought Ben as he surveyed the dimly lit room. The location Saala found was a large cellar under one of the towers. It was crisscrossed with heavy arches and supports and in some places the ceiling only cleared Ben’s head by a hand. But it had room to grow into, it had accessible water in large supply and they could afford it. There was poor lighting and the owners of the tower didn’t need it for storage, so they’d been able to pick it up quickly and cheap by City standards.
Ben walked by the rack of 20 sturdy kegs where the first batch was fermenting. He had poured nearly all of his resources into these kegs. He found simple usable equipment but splurged on high quality ingredients. He hoped it was worth it. Within two weeks, he’d bottle a small amount to shop around to local taverns. When they had a buyer, they’d wheel the entire keg – or hopefully kegs – over. In the meantime, he didn’t have much to do.
While he was still surveying their work, he heard a squeak near the entrance to the cellar and turned to see Saala shutting the heavy doors.
“You might want to get in the habit of keeping these shut,” he called out. “The City isn’t nearly as lawless as Fabrizo and some other places, but there are still people who you don’t want coming in here.”
“Good point,” replied Ben. “I guess I’m used to Farview still. It wasn’t much of a concern there.”
“You’re not in Farview anymore. Speaking of which, since you’ve got some downtime, I saw these at the market and picked them up.” Saala tossed Ben a long object and when he caught it he saw it was a practice sword. It had nearly the same heft as his long sword but it appeared to be a bundle of long reeds.
“It’s weighted in the center to give you the real feel of a sword but the reeds will soften a blow. I’m thinking it’s going to leave a wicked welt, but that’s better than a cut or broken bone. I want you to get real practice without that play armor they used in Whitehall. It limits your range of motion and unless you’re marching to a battle, you won’t be wearing full armor anyway.”
