Benjamin Ashwood (37 page)

“He
hasn’t been able to reach her and no one is talking to him so he followed me
back from here one day.  He said it took him a week to work up the courage to
ask me to find out what happened.  He’s looking over his shoulder and afraid of
talking to anyone.”

“I
don’t think he needs to be afraid,” she sighed, “but then again, maybe he
should be.”

“You
do know her then.  What happened to her?”

Amelie
carefully scanned the garden to be sure they were out of range for anyone to
hear them.  “You musn’t speak to freely about this.  Not even in front of
Meghan.  The Sanctuary wouldn’t look kindly on it and they deal harshly with
those who upset them.  But if he’s her brother, he has a right to know.”

She
continued, “not all of our tests are in books, Ben.  As we’ve spoken about,
there are two parts to being a Mage.  One is Knowledge.  We are tested on that
regularly.  There are examinations, essays, debates and other things that
aren’t so different from what my father’s tutors had me do as a child.  The
other part, Will, is tested differently.  Sometimes it can be dangerous to not
pass the tests.”

“Dangerous. 
How?” asked Ben.

“Things
can happen when your Will breaks.  It might be a short depression that you
quickly get over.  Sometimes it’s worse.  In the very worst cases, someone may
not want to go on living.”  She looked at Ben out of the corner of her eye and
he knew Segor’s worst fears had come true.

His
grip tightened on her arm, “you and Meghan are taking these tests too?”

“Don’t
worry.  Both Meghan and I are strong willed.  It is hard, very hard, but we
both have a natural ability for this sort of thing.  Issabelle was a sweet
girl, but she was not made to be a Mage.  She shouldn’t have been here.  Once
Issabelle realized it, it was too late for her to leave.  I know you must tell
her brother something.  Tell him it was a terrible accident.  The less he
knows, maybe it will be better for him.  He needs to stop asking questions.”

“Why,
what will happen to him?”

“The
Sanctuary doesn’t like to admit failure.  A girl like Issabelle should have
been let go by the instructors before… before what happened.  They made a
mistake or even worse, maybe they knew.  These kinds of things are kept behind
the walls.  If this brother wasn’t told a story or paid to vanish, well, he
must not be someone they consider important enough to bother with.  He must not
be someone they think would be missed.  Ben, you know Rhys and what he does. 
Not everyone who works for the Sanctuary is a nice person.”

Ben
was sickened at the thought his friends may participate in this kind of thing. 
If this girl Issabelle knew the risks and took them, he could understand that. 
But keeping it from her brother, it just didn’t make sense.

“Are
you saying that they’d hurt her brother if he knew about this?”

“Not
if he knew about it.  If he spoke about it.  Really, I don’t know what they
would do.  I just know what they are capable of doing.  You do too.  Think
about Lord Frederick in Whitehall and what happened to him.  If it was
something that mattered to the leaders here, like the reputation of the
Sanctuary, there is nothing they would stop at.”

He
managed to leave without further encounters with the guards and breathed a deep
sigh of relief when he turned his back to the scowling faces on the copper
gates.

The
City swirled by in flashes of movement and color as he walked but his thoughts
were moving even quicker.  He felt terrible for Issabelle and Segor but there
was nothing he could do.  Meghan and Amelie though were still at risk.  He
wracked his brain trying to think of anything he could do to help them.

Crossing
the bridge off of the island to the bank where their new warehouse sat, he saw
a small boat drifting the in the shallows.  A ragged fisherman was hauling in a
net and Ben saw when he lifted the tangle of twine out of the water that it was
empty.

He
passed over the bridge and his mood soured further.  There had to be something
he could do.  Amelie seemed unconcerned about her own safety but that’s the way
she always was.  The rumors of secret meetings, what happened to Issabelle and
even his friend Rhys.  Everything he learned about the Sanctuary pointed towards
it being a place he didn’t want Amelie and Meghan involved with.

“Ben,
come on!”  A shout startled him out of his winding thoughts.

Renfro
was leading two of the porters, Evan and Red, up the street towards him.  They
were hauling an empty handcart and were moving quickly.

“One
of the carts broke a wheel and we have 5 kegs sitting unattended down by the
granaries,” huffed Renfro.

“The
granaries?”  Ben was trying to comprehend what Renfro was saying.

“We
made a sale to a dive down there earlier this week.  It’s a rough area Ben.  If
someone hasn’t already rolled off our kegs they’re probably sitting in the
street drinking them.  Come on!”

Ben
fell in behind Renfro and the porters and saw Red give him an odd look.  The
man was big, but unlike most of the porters, it appeared to be blubber instead
of muscle.  He was named after his wild spray of golden hued red hair that
stuck up oddly and responded poorly to his constant efforts to pat it down.  He
was sweating profusely and nearly tripped forward into his cart when he saw Ben
watching him.

“Let’s
get moving,” encouraged Ben with a friendly grin.  Red never really fit in with
the rest of their team and Ben felt bad for the man.  He was regularly the
target of rough teasing from the others.

The
granaries were towering stores for grains, beans and other foodstuffs and were
all clustered along one section of the riverbank.  No one typically lived or
worked near them because the dust had a bad habit of exploding when a careless
worker would introduce open flame in the enclosed spaces.  During harvest times
they were a hive of activity.  During the other seasons it was quiet with just
the occasional wagon of product being hauled off.

“How
did you find this place?  I can’t believe there’s anyone down here who’d want
to order five of our kegs,” asked Ben skeptically. 

They
were surrounded by towering silos and bins and the hard packed dirt streets
were deserted.

“I
didn’t find the place,” replied Renfro, “Red did.  You think I’d be wandering
around down here by myself?  Evan, where did you say this wagon broke down?  I
don’t see anything or anybody around here.”

“It
wasn’t me,” mumbled Evan as he walked ahead to peer down a cross street.  “Red
told me someone lost a wheel down here.”

Renfro
turned, “Red?”

The
man stared straight ahead.

“Uuaagh!”
cried Evan.

They
all spun and saw a bald, thickset man standing over the prone porter.  The man
had a rag tied around the bottom half of his face and was holding a stout club.

Suddenly,
Red lifted the heavy handcart over his shoulder and swung it with all his might
at Renfro.

“Watch
it!” yelled Ben.

The
cart crashed into the side of Ben’s little friend and sent him flying across
the street.  He landed in a heap but before Ben could run to check on him,
another masked man stepped out also brandishing a club.

“There
were supposed to be two.  The little thief and one employee,” growled the new
man.

Red
quaked, “this one is the other owner.  He saw us walking over here and
followed.”

The
man met Ben’s eyes then menacingly raised his club.  “Well then.”

Without
thinking, Ben smoothly swept his sword out of his scabbard and set his feet. 
There were three of them, but he had the superior weapon.  Still, he thought,
those heavy looking clubs would do serious damage.

“Drop
it son, and we’ll let you live.  This is just supposed to scare you a bit.  You
want to get serious though,” the second masked man slapped his club against a
meaty palm, “then we’ll get serious.”

Ben
waited.

Red
made the first move and charged, wildly dragging the handcart behind him.  Ben
rushed forward before Red could raise the cart, startling him and slowing his
charge.  The big man didn’t expect Ben to charge and didn’t move quickly enough
to prevent Ben from smashing the hilt of his sword into the side of Red’s sweat
streaked face.

The
two masked men weren’t surprised so easily and both were quickly closing when Ben
stepped over Red’s limp body.

He
had heartbeats to observe their movement before they closed.  The first man
who’d assaulted Evan moved a bit slower and had a slight limp with his right
leg.  The second man was the more dangerous of the two.  He carried his weapon
like he had plenty of experience using it.

Ben
knew there was no use waiting anymore and rapidly side stepped several times to
his right to put the first man between him and the second.  The man grunted and
pivoted, giving Ben an opportunity.  While the man was still turning, Ben
darted in and slashed at the man’s weapon arm.  He felt his blade slice through
flesh and the man screamed and flailed backwards, dropping his club.

Splatters
of crimson blood painted a dark pattern on the dirt streets. 

Without
his club and injured, the man shouldn’t be much of a threat.  He would live
though.  Ben hadn’t intended to kill him.  He wasn’t sure who these men were or
why they were attacking.  By wounding one he hoped he’d be able to question him
later.

Renfro
stirred in the street and Ben felt a trill of relief.  The heavy cart had crashed
hard into his friend.

The
second man shoved his companion out of the way and set himself to face Ben.  He
held his club upright with firm hands and the way he set his feet told Ben he
was no stranger to combat.

The
injured masked man stumbled across the street to lean against the wall of a
granary.  He gripped his injured arm and blood leaked around his fingers in a
steady flow.  He was recovering from the shock but judging from the blood, it
was a deep cut and he wouldn’t be returning to this fight.

“What
are you waiting for pup?” snarled the man.

Without
speaking, Ben held back and assumed a defensive posture Saala had taught him. 
The more the man talked, the more he might learn about what was going on.

The
man took half a step forward and paused, looking back at his bleeding friend
and then at the unconscious Red.

Suddenly,
Renfro staggered to his feet and let out a curse, “I think the son of a bitch
broke my arm!”  The former thief used his good arm to yank out a small but
razor sharp knife.  His other arm hung limp and twisted at his side.  “I’m
going to cut that bastards throat and use him as fish bait.”

“Shit
Arnold, let’s get out of here,” barked the bloody man leaning against the
granary.

The
second man, who must have been Arnold, glared at his companion then back at Ben. 
“I’d love to stay and finish this but my friend here needs to go.  Follow us
and I’ll crack your skull open.”  He swished his weapon back and forth a few
times as if to show he meant it then gestured to the still unmoving Red.  “You
can have him.”

Both
masked men started slowly backing down the street before getting nearly a block
away where they turned and ran.

Ben
looked at Renfro who was angrily scowling at their backs and muttering foully
under his breath.

“You
think I should chase them?” asked Ben.

“No,
I think they may turn and fight and that wouldn’t do us any good.  The little I
saw, he looks like he knows what he’s about.  You probably couldn’t injure him
like the other.  You would have to kill him and we don’t need that.”

“Well,
we have him,” replied Ben and gestured to Red.  “You weren’t serious about the
throat and the fish bait, were you?”

“Oh,
I want to.  Believe me, I want to.”  Renfro stuck his knife back behind his
belt with a cringe of pain, “but even more, I want to know what the hell just
happened.”

That
evening their warehouse resembled a fortified camp more than the brewery it
was.  The former porter Red was still unconscious.  The physician they brought
in said he would survive.  Renfro got a splint on his arm and bandages wrapped
around his torso.  It turned out he did have a broken arm and several ribs to
go with it.  He was ordered to lie and rest but instead he was stalking around
the warehouse swilling from a skin of harsh liquor.

Renfro
would heal with little permanent damage but Evan was not so lucky.  He passed
shortly after they got him back to the warehouse.  The physician said his skull
was cracked by the blow and that he didn’t have a chance.  The mood was somber
but they had to understand what happened before they could take time to mourn
Evan.

Saala
was still travelling for at least another month.  Rhys had arrived quickly when
he heard what happened.  He gathered the details then helped Ben set up buddy
systems and arms for their work force.  They were sure Renfro had been the
target of the attack but they didn’t know if it was directed at the business or
him specifically.  Until they knew more, no one was to move around alone and
they would monitor the warehouse in shifts.  Those with families were
encouraged to bring them in or send them elsewhere for safety.