Benjamin Ashwood (10 page)

He
admonished himself for staring but couldn’t help wondering what Amelie or
Meredith might look like in some of those outfits.  One woman walked by in a
flimsy dress that covered from her neck to her ankles but when she got close he
almost choked on his skewer – he could clearly see through the light material
that she had nothing on underneath.  He’d seen girl’s bodies before in the
summer when they’d swim in the rivers around Farview, but that had been much
more innocent than this. 

The
craziest part was that when he was caught staring, some of the women gave him
an appraising look right back.  The woman in the see through dress even leaned
towards him, winked and in a honeyed voice whispered, “come find me later at
the Barker’s tent, half price for you.”

These
were the women Cranston warned him to stay away from.

Ben
finished his skewer and feeling a bit more settled headed back into the
Market.  It was early afternoon and he wanted to find Amelie’s ribbons then
head back to the inn before it got dark.  After spending the day navigating
Fabrizo’s winding streets and bridges, he knew he’d have much better luck
finding the place in daylight.

It
took him awhile but near the edge of the Market he finally found what he was
searching for.  A kind looking shriveled old woman was selling ribbons, buttons
and sewing supplies.  The woman was only asking a copper for a ribbon so Ben
bought a handful of different ones and still had two of the heavy silver coins
and several copper coins left over.  He had more ribbons that he could ever
imagine the girls needing but the old woman looked like she could use the
business.

His
errand accomplished and having seen a good portion of the city, Ben started
back to the inn feeling content.  He had daydreamed his entire life about
seeing big cities and having adventures, but in the back of his head he was
always nervous about the thought of leaving Farview.  Farview was familiar and
it was comfortable.  As it turned out, Fabrizo was different but it wasn’t
intimidating or scary.  Well, aside from the table full of eyes it wasn’t
scary.  So far, the people seemed to be friendly and helpful.

Ben
lifted his head and took a deep breath of the salty air.  As he moved, he heard
a few small clinks and glanced down.  Around his feet he saw the contents of
his coin purse and a grubby hand scooping it up.

A
boy near Ben’s age but shorter and skinnier jumped up and slashed a knife in Ben’s
direction before shouting, “don’t try to follow me!”

The
boy scrambled backwards several steps then turned and bolted down the street.  Ben
felt by his hip and realized the kid must have cut the bottom of his coin
purse.  “Stop, thief!”

A
rough looking sailor wearing a loose knit hat and no shirt, chuckled as the
thief ran past him and called, “well, aren’t you going to chase him?”

With
that, Ben sprang into a run.  As his scabbard slapped painfully against his leg
he thought his next lesson with Saala needed to be how to run with a sword on
your belt.  He grabbed the hilt and tried to steady the weapon as he barreled
across a connecting bridge but it left him feeling off balance.

Like
any boy from Farview, Ben worked for his bread and he was in good shape.  But
the thief was quick and familiar with these streets.  Ben found himself
hurtling over low carts and dodging passersby all the while yelling for
assistance but no one made a move to slow the thief down.

The
thief seemed to have no problem navigating the congestion in the streets and
was quickly gaining distance.  The only thing keeping Ben in the race was that
they were moving over more commercial islands that had broad open streets.  In
some of the narrow alleyways he’d passed earlier in the day the little thief
would be lost in the twists and turns in no time.

Ben
knew he had to try something or Amelie’s money and his life savings would soon
disappear into the back alleys of Fabrizo.  He shouted, “stop, or I’ll put this
crossbow bolt in your back!”

It
was ridiculous, he didn’t have a crossbow and the thief had surely seen that
before robbing him, but it was the only gambit he had.

And
it worked.  The thief glanced back in disbelief just long enough for an apple
cart to roll into his path.  He crashed into the cart at a full sprint.  Legs
kicking in the air, he flipped over the cart causing an explosion of apples
before he crashed down on the ground.  The owner of the cart started yelling
and kicking at him.

Ben
redoubled his speed, he wanted to get there before anyone else claimed his
coins.

Suddenly,
right before Ben got there, the apple cart owner fell back gripping his leg and
shouting curses.  The thief was up again, dashing into a nearby alley with his
small blade in hand.  Ben paused long enough at the mouth of the alley to make
sure the kid wasn’t waiting in the dark to stab him then drew his sword and
strode in.

The
alley opened up to a small, empty courtyard with several closed doors, probably
stairways to people’s upstairs apartments.  The thief was franticly trying to
find one unlocked.

“Stop
right there, thief.”

The
thief spun around with his blade out but his eyes popped when he saw Ben’s
sword.  Ben dropped into one of the more aggressive fighting stances Saala had
taught him.  The kid was quick with that knife, but the little training Saala
had given him and the unbeatable reach advantage he had with his sword made him
confident this fight would be a sure thing.

The
thief must have felt the same way and tossed his little knife down at Ben’s
feet.  “Look, I’ll give you your money back.  No harm and all is forgotten.”

He
started digging into his clothing and Ben tensed, thinking he had another
hidden knife, but he came out with his own coin purse tied around his neck and
emptied it into his palm.  “See, all here.  Take it.  We don’t need to have a
problem.”

Ben
had the thief pinned in the alley and thought about calling for the
authorities, but considering how little help he’d gotten pursuing the thief out
of the Market and across several islands, he guessed that Fabrizo was a town
where people handled their own business.  He felt like he should do something
about the thief but he didn’t know what.  All of his money looked like it was
held in that dirty hand. 

“Drop
it.  And next time, I won’t be so nice!”

The
coins clinked onto the cobblestones.  The thief edged around one side of the
courtyard and Ben the other.  He spared a glance to confirm all of his money
was lying there, and maybe a little extra, but he quickly turned back to the
thief and watched him snatch up his knife before slowly backing out of the courtyard.

Still
nervous about the thief returning, Ben laid his sword down on the cobblestones
and collected his coins.  He was counting them to see if they were all there
when the thief appeared back at the mouth of the courtyard, this time slowly
backing into it with his hands raised.  Ben quickly slipped his money into his
pocket and stood with his sword raised defensively.

The
thief was not paying any attention to Ben though, he was focusing on someone coming
down the alleyway after him.

“Nowhere
to go this time, Renfro.”  The shirtless sailor with the knit cap that Ben saw
earlier was slowly advancing into the courtyard holding a long curved knife. 
It was nearly the size of a short sword and was wickedly serrated along the
interior curve.  That knife was meant for gutting.  Two bulky, menacing looking
men with cudgels followed behind the sailor.

“Look,
Casper, I didn’t know it was protected.  I swear.  I’ll pay it back.  Whatever
I need to do.”  Renfro, the thief, kept moving into the center of the courtyard. 
Ben held his sword steady but other than a glance from one of the hulking thugs
behind Casper, he was being ignored.

“Doesn’t
matter Renfro.  And we both know you can’t pay back an entire cargo of
Ishlanese carpets.  The Guild’s going to pay the coin but you’re gonna pay the
blood price.”

Renfro
glanced back at Ben and pleaded, “you wanna get involved in this?  They’re
going to kill us both man!  You’ve got a sword!”

Casper
grinned and kept his eyes on Renfro, slowly waving his knife in front of him.

Ben
eyed the three thugs and shuddered.  All three of the men stepped confidently
and from the variety of scars and crooked noses, this wasn’t the first time any
of them had been a scrap.  He knew it’d be long odds, trying to face down
seasoned brawlers.  But the courtyard was big enough to provide all the room
he’d need with his sword and he had the advantage of holding the more deadly
weapon.

Renfro
still had his hands in the air and wasn’t making a move towards the small knife
he had tucked in his belt.  Ben figured he could count on the small thief to
join the scrap if it came to it, he seemed earnestly afraid for his life.

But
Ben had no dog in this fight.  The thief had victimized him minutes before and
if anything, he probably deserved whatever these people were going to do to
him.  Clearly they knew each other well and Renfro had violated some agreement
they had.

Ben
eyed Casper and asked, “I was just recovering my stolen property.  You saw me
chasing him.  I don’t have anything to do with this, can I go?”

Casper
finally spared Ben a glance, “yeah, get out of here.”  He ran his thumb along
the edge of his blade to emphasize his point, “but I don’t need to tell you to
forget this ever happened.”

Ben
nodded and started edging around the courtyard, just the way the thief had done
earlier.  Renfro made eye contact and no words were necessary, his look told Ben
that he was being left to die.

“Wait!”

Ben
couldn’t let them kill the kid.  There is right and there is wrong.  Ben didn’t
know what should be done with the thief, but he knew leaving him to be gutted
in this courtyard was wrong.  And who were these men to decide?  What gave them
the moral authority to decide Renfro’s fate?  Before he knew what he was doing,
Ben had decided that Renfro should face the law.  Renfro would have
consequences for his actions, but it would not be determined by these men.

“This
man will be turned in to the city guards.  He will face punishment for stealing
from me and whatever else he’s done, but it will be by the proper authorities.”

Casper
snorted, “proper authorities.  And who might that be?  Renfro is one of our’s
and he will face our justice.  Leave now and I may not remember your face.”

Ben
raised the point of his sword, “I am not leaving unless I take him with me.”

Casper
looked to his companions then back at Ben.  “How do you think you’ll take him? 
There are three of us boy.  There’s no reason for you to die here too.”

The
two massive thugs finally gave Ben their full attention.  One of them started
slowly spinning his club, his thick tattooed arms flexing with corded muscle. 
Too late, Ben realized those cudgels must be filled with lead or some other
heavy element.  The thug didn’t have to strain to swing the thing, but it was
clear it was far heavier than a simple wooden instrument.  That cudgel swung by
that man could easily shatter bones and leave him crippled.  Suddenly, the
sword didn’t seem enough of an advantage.

“I
don’t know if I can take all of you, but I know you can’t take me uninjured!”  Ben
dropped back into Saala’s aggressive fighting stance and hoped the thugs would
see reason.  He knew he couldn’t win this fight, but he hoped they would
realize it wasn’t worth it.

He
was wrong.

The
thug on his left, his off hand, suddenly moved around the side of him.  Ben
turned slightly to face him and before he could react the second thug smashed
his cudgel against Ben’s blade, nearly sending it spinning across the
courtyard.  The only thing that allowed Ben to hold on was his weeks of practice
on the road with Saala.

The
man obviously expected Ben to lose the weapon and had quickly advanced after
his strike.  Ben swung backhanded at him and sliced flesh before the thug
jumped back – a long red line spreading across the big man’s torn shirt.

Before
Ben could feel smug for winning the first salvo, a fist the size of a small ham
from the first thug smashed into the side of Ben’s head.  It sent him crashing
to the ground with the world spinning and lights dancing in front of his eyes.

The
injured thug stepped over to him and Ben saw a steady flow of blood had already
painted half of the man’s chest.  He placed a heavy foot on top of Ben’s sword
and muttered to his companion, “bastard’s got some fight in him, huh?”

Ben
struggled to move his sword before his eyes rolled up and he slid into
blackness.

When
Ben regained consciousness he was lying face down on a damp stone floor.  A
scent like old wheat filled his nostrils.  His head was pounding like it was
stuck between a blacksmith’s hammer and anvil.  His muscles felt like they had
the consistency of Edward Crust’s holiday jelly.

Briefly,
he was back in Farview and struggled to remember what kind of horrible, or
wonderful, night led to such a painful hangover.

But
the illusion was short lived.  He elicited a groan as he rolled over to his
back.  The prospect of sitting was forgotten when his vision swam with streaks
of color in the dark room and a wave of bile threatened to fight it’s way up his
throat.

“Awake
now?”

The
slightly familiar voice brought it all back.  The theft, the fight in the
courtyard and now what?  He was surprised he still lived.  From his back, Ben
could see the walls of a dimly lit room slowly come into focus.  A sturdy oak
door was the only break in the stone walls.  The floor was uncomfortably hard
and it was coated in a heavy layer of dust.  The rest of it really didn’t
matter, it was a prison and that’s all he needed to know.  He wasn’t in the
mood to discuss their confinement with the person who got him there, so he
remained silent.

“I
want to thank you for standing up for me,” continued the boy they called
Renfro, undaunted by Ben’s refusal to acknowledge him.  “I haven’t had a lot of
people do that for me so it means something.  Well, it would if we weren’t locked
in here.”

Ben
succumbed to curiosity, “and where is here?”

“Basement
of the Thieves Guild.  They’ll hold us here until they execute us.”

Ben
groaned again.  The details of how and why they would be killed seemed
strangely unimportant.  Renfro had accepted his fate and Ben was inclined to
follow him.  He just had another hard lesson that he was no hero in a story. 
Breaking out of prison, fighting off the pursuing bad guys and saving the girl
– well, thief in this case – that was the kind of thing that only happened in
stories.  He was learning that real life was much more painful and he couldn’t
summon the unassailable hope that all the story heroes had.

Renfro
fell silent.  Ben suspected he was normally a very talkative fellow but the
depressing circumstances made for difficult conversation.

They
sat like that for several hours, Ben staring at the rough wooden ceiling,
inhaling the musty scent of the room and hearing scratches and squeaks of what
had to be rats.  Over time, the throbbing in his head started to fade but the
monotony of the cell crept in on him.

He
wanted to turn his thoughts off but couldn’t.  His mind raced through the
possibilities earlier in the afternoon.  Given the result, he felt he must have
decided incorrectly.  But he still couldn’t convince himself that leaving
Renfro to die would have been right.  Whatever Renfro’s crimes, he should face judgment
from proper authorities, not a gang of thugs.

Eventually,
the silence in the room was broken by approaching footsteps and a key sliding
noisily into the oak door.

Ben
was surprised when Casper and a woman entered.  The woman sat a white linen
napkin covered tray on the floor and quickly disappeared back through the open
door.  Casper nudged the tray with his boot and said, “food and water.  We’ll
keep you alive for now.  I suggest you eat it before the rats do.”

Seeing
Casper’s boot drew Ben’s attention to the rest of him.  In the streets, he had
been dressed like a sailor with torn pants, shirtless and a dirty knit cap. 
Now, he was decked out in finery more befitting a Lord’s throne room than a
dungeon. 

Casper
was wearing a billowing snow white silk shirt, snug dark colored pants, fine
leather boots and a wide silver studded belt.  On one hip he had a wire handled
rapier and on the other a jewel pommeled dagger.  He had the look of a dashing
buccaneer from Ben’s imagination.

“I
had to come talk to the boy who risked his life to save someone who stole from
him.  I can only assume you have an interesting perspective on this.”  Casper
squatted down near Ben, unafraid in his own dungeon.  “Tell me about it.”

“Why
should I tell you anything?  Aren’t you going to kill me?” muttered Ben.

“No,
I will not kill you.  Your fate has not been decided.  But you did seriously
injure my friend Balbo.  It is he who will decide what is in store for you.”

Renfro
snorted in the corner, “he will kill you.”

Casper
offered a wan smile, “yes, it is likely he will.  I suppose a thoughtful man
might find out if you had rich or powerful friends, forgive the injury and
attempt a ransom.  Balbo is not a thoughtful man though.  If I enjoyed betting,
which I do, I would bet that when he recovers from his wound he will beat you
to death with his bare hands.”

Ben
grimaced and wondered how he could get out of this.  Casper acted polite, but
his calm, urbane tone when speaking of murder led Ben to believe he would get
no sympathy from him.  Lady Towaal or Amelie likely had money to pay a ransom. 
He didn’t want to put them in danger though.  They had Saala and Rhys for
protection but Ben didn’t know anything about these thieves.  There could be
hundreds of them for all he knew.

“Regardless
of what happens when Balbo recovers,” Casper continued, “you are not going
anywhere right now.  You might as well tell me about yourself.  Why did you try
to save the boy?”

Ben
sighed, Casper was right, he wasn’t going anywhere soon.  Talking to Casper
couldn’t make this situation any worse.  “I tried to save him because I don’t
think he should have been killed in the street.  He should be held responsible
for his crimes, but it should be by the rightful authorities.  You are judging
him for theft, but unless I am mistaken, you are also a thief?”

“Ha,
you are right about that.  You have an interesting philosophy boy.  Let me tell
you mine.  I am a thief and worse, it is true, but so is Renfro.  Who better to
judge him than his fellow thieves?  He entered our society on his own free will
and knowing the stakes.  And like any society, there are certain rules and
expectations.  Any social organization must have rules.  When a person violates
those rules they must be held accountable.  If they are not, the organization
breaks down and the society cannot survive.”

Casper
paused as if to let Ben ask a question then continued, “Renfro agreed to our
rules and now he has broken them.  We cannot allow that or everyone will think
it is Ok to break the rules and we will only have chaos.”

Ben
responded, “he broke your rules, but he also broke the rules of Fabrizo.  Along
with you and whoever else is in this society of your’s.  Just because you
formed a little group of criminals does not mean you’re not all criminals. 
You’re still subject to the law of the land.”

“Ah,
but what makes us subject to these laws of the land?” asked Casper with a smile. 
“I don’t recall agreeing to anything like that.  Why am I subject to the laws
of a society I did not willingly join?”

“You
are in Fabrizo under your own free will and I am certain that there is a law
against stealing here.  If you do not agree with that law but you insist on
stealing, you could leave.” 

Ben
felt himself being drawn into the debate with Casper.  The man had more depth
than the street thug Ben took him to be at first.  It wasn’t just his clothing,
this man spoke like he was part of high society and would have no problem
passing as an acquaintance of Amelie’s.  Ben’s perception of a guild of thieves
was quickly changing.  These were not just alley lurkers and head knockers.

“You
are correct again boy.  I am in Fabrizo under my free will and I am aware of
the laws of this town.  But I do not consider myself subject to them and so far
your ‘authorities’ have not been able to make me subject to them.  If they do
not have the power to enforce their laws, then do they have the right to make
them?  I and the other members of our Guild have taken certain liberties with
the property of individuals in Fabrizo and we have the power to get away with
it.  Are we any more or less right to institute our rules on the people who
choose to live here than say, the Merchant’s Guild?  But more importantly for
our discussion, we have given ourselves authority to serve justice on our own –
those who not only choose to live here but choose to join us.  Surely you
agree, if you conjecture we are subject to the laws of Fabrizo by merely being
within it’s boundary, then certainly a member of our Guild who joined
voluntarily is subject to the rules of the Guild?”

Ben
felt himself being outmatched by the thief.  He knew in his heart what was
right, but this man had a way with words.  He was twisting what Ben had said
and what he thought and turning it into something completely different.

Suddenly,
out of the corner of the room Renfro interjected, “I’m right here!  This talk
about rules, law and whatever is interesting, I’m sure, but what does that
change?”

Casper
shifted his weight and looked at Renfro, “it doesn’t change anything.  You will
be held here until the Merchant Mallan returns and then you will be executed. 
He wanted to see it himself.”  He gestured to their surroundings, “unfortunately,
you will be stuck in this room until that time.  I apologize, we are used to
making a decision and doing these things rather quickly.  I don’t recall the
last time we had need of a place to store prisoners.”

He
stood and turned to leave.  At the doorway he nodded to Ben, “interesting
speaking with you boy.  Maybe under different circumstances we could have
become friends.”

The
heavy oak door slammed shut with finality.  They could only wait now.

Ben
and Renfro found water and bread under the napkin on the tray.  The tray itself
was etched silver.  Yet another surprise.  These thieves were clearly doing
well.  Ben’s imagination of a gang of dirty miscreants skulking in the city
sewers vanished entirely.

The
bread and water wasn’t an ideal meal, but it satisfied and they started to
relax as much as possible, given the circumstances.

“So,
what exactly did you do to this Merchant Mallan?” inquired Ben.

Renfro
rubbed his hand across his face, “it wasn’t my fault, really.  I found out that
there would be a cargo of Ishlanese carpets coming into port and I also knew
about an out of work Captain who was willing to take a large risk for a large
profit.  I arranged for a distraction and the Captain and his men lifted the
carpets.  I thought I was sure to be elevated to a full Guild member.  Turns
out, this particular cargo was personally guaranteed by an Elder in the Guild. 
He apparently invests alongside Mallan in his cargoes and handles security.

Ben
winced, “you’re telling me you stole an entire shipload of goods from one of
the most senior thieves in Fabrizo?”

“Yeah,
like I said though, it wasn’t really my fault.  I just helped with a
distraction.  I wasn’t the one who stole it!”

“You
didn’t know it was this Guild Elder’s cargo?”

“Well,
I guess you’re supposed to clear these kind of things with the Guild.  I didn’t
really know that since boosting ships isn’t my normal gig.  More of a one time
opportunity thing.”

Ben
could only shake his head.  He still didn’t believe the Guild should have the
right to execute Renfro, but he understood why they might want to.

Renfro
continued, seemingly feeling little remorse for the theft, “I almost got away
with it too.  Just needed a little more coin to buy passage on a ship and get
out of town.  Sorry about that by the way.”

“Wait,”
Ben exclaimed, “you stole an entire cargo of carpets and still didn’t have
enough coin to buy passage out of here?”

Renfro
grunted and stared down at his feet.  “The Captain I was working with sailed
out of port before I could get my payment.  I’m getting paid in advance next
time.”

Ben
felt enough sympathy to not bring up how unlikely he thought it was there would
be a next time.

After
the food and water, Ben finally felt recovered enough to get up and explore his
surroundings but there wasn’t much to see.  The room must have originally been
a storeroom.  There were stone floors, stone walls and the stout oak door. 
They had a pot in the corner for personal use.  The walls had a few weep holes
but the squeaks and scratching coming from them turned him off of further
exploration.  They were too small for him to fit even a hand through and they
had no tools to try enlarging them anyway.  It would be no help for escape. 

Ben
spent a few moments examining the door but he quickly realized it was
hopeless.  There was a door knob that wouldn’t turn and it had no keyhole to
lock-pick like they would have done in a story.

They
had a flickering torch stuck in an iron ring on the wall and he briefly thought
about trying to burn their way out, maybe through the door or the ceiling.  He
quickly dismissed that idea once he realized the practical reality of being
locked inside a burning room.