by AC Cobble
The hustle and bustle of The City quickly washed over him once he got away from the high walls of the Sanctuary and he forgot about it. He was headed to the Flying Swan to meet with Rhys. Rhys seemed to be growing busy recently and frequently vanished for a few days at a time. Ben wanted to run the Reinhold idea by him before accepting the merchant’s proposal.
Rhys wasn’t a business man, but he had an uncanny sense for trouble.
“Reinhold?” Rhys asked incredulously, “as in, The Lord Reinhold?”
“I must have made an impression by gawking at his estate when we passed it on the river.”
“Well, you could certainly do worse. The man has more gold to throw at a business than you’d ever know what to do with. I’m sure you’re doing a great job and all, but I’m a little surprised he’s interested. I figure he’s got bigger fish on the line than a small brewery.”
Ben shifted uneasily, “well, that’s where I have the question. He’s doing it he says to thwart Lord Gulli. He says Gulli is reaching too far so he wants to give him some competition locally and cut into his sources of income.”
“Hmm,” said Rhys before reaching over to the pitcher and refilling his mug. Then without asking, refilling Ben’s. “I’d hoped this situation with Gulli was over with. He’s a dangerous man, as I’m sure you know.”
“As far as I know, we are out of the situation with Gulli. His men came by just once and we heard he spoke to most of our customers. A few begged out of their deals with us but the majority stayed on. There hasn’t been any trouble since then, at least that I know of. I’m worried that Renfro is stirring the pot down by the docks. He said he’s spoken to some people who work with Gulli and that they aren’t very supportive of the man.”
Rhys unconsciously tapped on the hilt of his long knife and paused before speaking again. “If Renfro is going to get himself in trouble then he’s going to take you with him. If Renfro won’t stop, then I think you have two choices and you may not like either one.”
Ben frowned and leaned forward on the smooth oak table.
“One, you disassociate yourself from Renfro. Buy him out of the brewery, sell him the brewery, whatever it takes to cut ties. Gulli is a thug, but he’s also a business man. If he sees you’re not involved then he will leave you alone. You may think you have nothing to worry about now, but if Renfro is talking to Gulli’s men, then you should be worried.”
Ben sighed. “Renfro is still enough of a friend that I can’t do that to him, not yet.”
“Option two then. You do this partnership with Reinhold. I don’t think Gulli is stupid enough to cross his path. Reinhold is a fair man and he will do what he says with you. He’s a hard man too and has nearly unlimited resources. He won’t back down from a fight if Gulli makes it one. He’s the protection you need.”
“I can’t abandon Renfro and I don’t think he’ll stop,” replied Ben with a grimace. “So it’s not much of a choice. We partner with Reinhold.”
Rhys smirked and raised his mug in cheers, “to bigger and better things.” He took a long pull then smacked his it down for a refill. “Now, let’s talk about something important. When I was downriver last week there was this barmaid with the biggest…”
Three days later, Ben grinned and shook his head as he followed Rhys and Renfro up a wide dirt track into the hills. The early autumn heat and humidity of The City was fading as they ascended away from the river. The quiet of the road would have been a welcome change for Ben after the constant noise and commotion in town, but Rhys and Renfro hadn’t stopped talking since they left.
Each one was comparing exploits that had grown more and more lurid as the sun rose higher. By now, Ben was certain that everything coming out of the former thief’s mouth was a lie, but it didn’t stop Rhys from cackling at the tales and coming right back with another to top it. By their accounts, there couldn’t have been an unspoiled barmaid or wash girl within two days walk of The City.
Ben suspected Renfro had been a virgin when they’d finished their journey, but it seemed he’d grown in experience. Or at least expanded his imagination.
“What about you Ben?” called Renfro. “Did you ever manage to close the deal with that sweet Lady or the country girl? What’s her name, Meghan? I bet the Sanctuary is locking those two up tight.”
Renfro had never made it to the Sanctuary to visit the girls and it had been five months since they arrived in The City, but that was just ridiculous. “Renfro, that country girl is my sister.”
“Oh, right.” Renfro paused to catch his breath and pull up his pants which had been slowly sinking as they walked. “I guess I knew that. It’s too bad really. I bet she’d be a handful.”
Rhys caught Ben’s eye and mock slapped his forehead. Rhys glanced at Renfro and said, “maybe you should get a belt Renfro. Or are you staying prepared for any wayward wenches we stumble across?”
“A belt?”
“Your pants are falling down. It’s not befitting a man of your carnal aptitude.”
Renfro looked down and asked confusedly, “my what?”
“Don’t worry about it, let’s get moving. We’ve got business to do and I want to see the legend in action once we get to the tavern.”
Renfro flushed then scrambled after Rhys.
It dawned on Ben that Renfro was trying to be like Rhys. He probably saw the older man as a role model. But where Rhys flouted all conventions because he had self-knowledge and confidence in his abilities, Renfro seemed to be doing it because he thought that was the way to gain respect.
“Why can’t I find some normal friends,” muttered Ben as he fell in behind them.
They were heading to the small village of Vis which was in the hills a two day walk from The City. Rhys vaguely mentioned he had business there then invited them along because it was a logging town with a bevy of timber mills, carpenters and coopers. They hoped that by going further out from The City they could find a better price on fresh, empty ale kegs. They collected, washed and reused the old ones when they could, but Reinhold’s investment would launch another round of expansion and they needed new materials to keep up.
Contrary to Ben’s hopes, Renfro continued to spend more and more time in seedy establishments by the docks. The few times Ben had stopped in some of the places, he’d immediately wanted to leave and was always a little surprised when he checked his coin purse and found he hadn’t been robbed. Ben hoped a short trip away from there and amongst real people outside of The City would do Renfro good.
The dirt track they were on was wide enough for a wagon and not much else. If two of them were to meet on this road, one would need to pull off into the tall grass on the side. The road followed a broad zig zag that gently rose and cut through thin stands of small trees.
“There can’t be much of a lumber town up there with these trees,” Ben shouted up to Rhys.
Rhys held back to walk beside Ben then answered, “they’ve got bigger trees. Used to have big trees down here too. They cut them all down.” Rhys gestured to low lumps in the grass that Ben hadn’t noticed. “Tree stumps. This land isn’t much use to anyone until the forest grows back some.”
“Wow. So who logged all of this? People came down from Vis to do it?”
“This was Vis. Or near it. Over the years the town has moved with the tree line. Three hundred years ago the forest ran almost down to the river. Back then, lumber came to The City from Venmoor. It was further but easier to ship on the water. Then someone invented Venmoor Steel. They all started making swords and using the lumber to fire the forges and Vis got started in the logging business. They come back through down here from time to time when the trees grow big enough.”
The lumpy fields of tall grass spreading out around the road looked different all of a sudden. It had looked peaceful and open before. Now Ben couldn’t help imagining what it had been when the forest extended for days in all directions.
“You know a lot of history. How did you learn all of that?”
R
hys smirked. “The world changes. I just know enough to say we’ve got to change with it.”
That night, they camped near one of the stands of young trees and collected a pile of fallen branches to make a small cook fire.
Renfro was worn out from the physical activity and his blustering finally faded. As soon as their dinner of ham and beans was done, he curled up on his bedroll and was snoring before they finished cleaning up and putting away the frying pan.
“How is Amelie taking the news about the offensive on Issen?” Rhys asked in a quiet voice.
Ben flipped out his bedroll and answered, “she’s not taking it well I don’t think. I got a note from Meghan saying the Sanctuary is keeping Amelie busy with studies to distract her but I know she wants to be home. Her family and all of her old friends will be at risk when the Coalition moves. Her father moved her to the Sanctuary because that’s the one place she’d be out of harm’s way but you know her. She’s not worried about her own safety.”
“Stay close to her Ben. Be the friend she asked you to be. That’s what she’s going to need. I have a weird feeling about all of this. It just doesn’t feel right.”
“Do you think the Coalition will prevail against Issen? I thought with Argren and the Alliance behind them they’d be safe. At least, that’s what Amelie seemed to think in Whitehall.”
Rhys rummaged around in his pack and produced a short curved tobacco pipe which he took his time stuffing and lighting before replying, “no man knows what will happen in battle. That’s why they have to fight the things. Just because a few overdressed frumpy old men signed some papers in Whitehall doesn’t mean anything. Keep close to her and be there when she needs you.”
In the morning before breakfast, Rhys was up early and prodded Ben and Renfro to show him how they’d progressed with the Ohms. Renfro collapsed in a tangled heap after the Fourth one but Ben got to Thirteen before he reached the end of his knowledge.
“Very nice,” acknowledged Rhys. “I see I need to come by and teach you some more. A little shaky towards the end. You’ve got the idea though. The movements get progressively more difficult but once your mind and body fully understand what is needed, you will learn them quickly.”
Renfro sat down to breakfast of hard crusted bread and a hunk of cheese and griped, “I don’t get it. If you want to fight, you learn to use a sword, a spear or an axe. What’s the point of these Ohms? Shouldn’t you be practicing your sword? While you sit there stretching the other guy is going to come up and chop you in two.”
Rhys grinned, “I haven’t been chopped in two yet.”
Around a mouthful of cheese Renfro snorted, “yet he says.”
Ben added, “it’s for balance Renfro. It also builds speed, strength, stamina and flexibility.”
“Aye,” agreed Rhys. “Holding and swinging a sword is one thing. Swinging it faster, harder are more accurately than the other guy is how you win a fight. As for practicing with the sword, I’ve done that. I’ve learned over the years that the better I know how to move my body, the better I’m able to move my sword.”
“Speaking of moving, let’s get going and eat on the road.” Ben gestured towards a dark cloud moving down the river valley. “I’ve gotten used to city life and don’t relish the thought of what that rain will do to this dirt road.”
Weeks later and back in The City, Ben surveyed their new building. After the Vis trip, they’d finalized the deal with Lord Reinhold and moved the operation from the musty cellar to a spacious warehouse off the island. It was near the foot of one of the bridges so Ben didn’t think it’d be an issue getting back and forth. The area of town was a little rough, but as Reinhold said, the price was right.
With the new space and an influx of Reinhold’s gold, Ben had been able to get proper fermenting tanks and other equipment for a full scale brewery. They’d also hired new staff including assistant brewers and several more porters. It felt like they had a small army at their disposal and Ben spent more time managing the people than he did actually brewing. He was responsible for the brewery operation and the money. Renfro was handling sales and deliveries. Renfro kept mentioning that he was willing to do the accounting but without saying it outright, Ben declined because he didn’t fully trust his friend.
Still, the partnership with Reinhold and the rapid expansion seemed to have lifted Renfro out of his dark mood. He was spending more time visiting reputable ale houses and less time in the sinks. He hadn’t brought up anything about Gulli in a week and Ben silently hoped that episode was behind them.
The assistant brewers did most of the activity now, following Ben’s recipes, but he still liked to walk the floor and monitor the quality. He felt like none of them cared about it as much as he did. Then again, it was just a job for them.
While he was circling the room, one of his assistants caught his attention near the entrance and waved him over. A young, strange man was standing with him. He had shaggy unkempt hair and ill-fitting nearly worn through clothing. Prospective employee thought Ben. It wasn’t uncommon now that they’d expanded. Young men saw the growth and wanted to be part of it.
“Hi, what can I do for you?” Ben asked. Now that he was close, he noticed the boy kept fidgeting and glancing around the wide open room like he thought someone was watching him.
“Can we speak in private?” the straw haired boy croaked.
“Sure, come on to the storage room,” Ben said then shot a quizzical look to his assistant. The man just shrugged.
“What can I help you with? What’s the secrecy about?”
“I… I saw you visit the Sanctuary, right?”
The boy was sweating and hadn’t lost his anxiousness as they stepped into the storage room half packed full of bulging sacks of barley and hops.
“Yes,” replied Ben tentatively.
“Who are you visiting there?”
The question and the attitude raised Ben’s hackles, but the boy didn’t appear to be a threat. “I visit my sister and a friend. They are Initiates there.”
A wave of relief swept through the boy’s scrawny frame and he rubbed a hand over his face. “Your sister, good, I thought so.”
“Why? What is going on? Is Meghan in danger or something?”
“Oh, I don’t know. I don’t know her,” replied the boy. “Maybe.”
Ben’s concern grew, “what do you mean, ‘maybe’?”
“My sister Issabelle. She is an Initiate too. But I haven’t seen her in weeks and she’s stopped writing. When I ask about her the guards tell me maybe she doesn’t want to talk to me anymore. Or they tell me maybe she’s left. They tell me to forget about it and leave. She’s my sister, she would never do that to me! What could they have done to her?”
The emotion painting the boy’s face told Ben all he needed to know about his story.
“Maybe she’s just been busy,” answered Ben lamely. “The studies there are taxing. Sometimes my sister tells me all she wants to do is sleep on her free days.” They both knew that didn’t explain why Issabelle would stop writing. There had to be an explanation though.
“Tomorrow is the next free day,” Ben continued, “I’ll ask my sister about her. If they’re both Initiates, they must know each other.”
“Yes, thank you!” the boy cried out and moved to embrace Ben.
After the boy left, Segor was his name, Ben couldn’t shake the image of his tear streaked face. Segor was assuming the worst, and based on what he said the guards told him, Ben thought something unusual most be going on.
The next morning, Ben left early for the Sanctuary. He usually arrived mid-morning and found the girls waiting for him but he couldn’t wait today. He had barely slept the night before, mulling over what Segor said and thinking about his encounters with Meghan and Amelie over the last few months. There was no question they were healthy and didn’t seem to be in immediate danger. Now that he thought about it though, he also realized they’d shared nearly nothing about what they were doing there. Lots of studying
, that was all they’d told him.
He approached the massive copper gates that marked the only opening in the outer wall of the Sanctuary and the two faces, one old woman and one young, seemed to sneer instead of smile down at him.
One of the four guards posted at the entrance stepped out and rested a hand on his sword hilt. He wasn’t blocking the path through the wide gate and the other guards didn’t move, but his wide legged stance was clearly meant to intimidate.
Ben strode close and the man grunted, “worried about something?”
“What do you mean?” asked Ben.
The man’s eyes flicked down to Ben’s belt and Ben suddenly noticed the weight of his sword. It wasn’t exactly illegal to carry weapons in The City but it was frowned on in most establishments.
“Oh, I, uh, didn’t even notice I was wearing it. Is there a rule against being armed here?”
“No,” the guard answered cooly, “there’s no rule against it. There are more dangerous things than steel inside these walls boy. You try to start anything and you’re going to find out what.”
Ben flushed and skirted around the guard who stood rooted on his spot in the middle of the gate. The man left a hand on his sword and slowly pivoted on one boot as Ben passed. Ben broke eye contact and cringed as he imagined the thought of that steel slicing his back.
Once in the gates though, he felt some of the tension dissipate and had an unimpeded walk to the Initiates Garden. He only spotted a few guards scattered loitering in the distance and they made no move towards him. There were certainly more of them than usual, but none spoke and none seemed overly concerned about his sword. He cursed himself for thoughtlessly strapping it on. If he wanted to lay low and avoid suspicion, coming into this place armed was the exact opposite of what he should have done. Besides, the guard was right, any of the Mages here could fry him to a crisp before he got close. What did he think he was protecting himself from?
