Benjamin Ashwood (34 page)

Ben
ran his hands through his hair, “Renfro, the last thing we need to do is
escalate this business with Gulli.  His goons went and talked to a few of our
customers.  Most of them ignored him.  The ones who left us weren’t good
customers anyway.  We should leave it at that.  Pulling Saala and Rhys into
this isn’t fair to them.”

“You
know he’s going to make a move Ben.  All I’m saying is we should be smart and
think about it.  Do we wait for him or do we move first?”

“I
can’t believe you’re even talking about this, what has gotten into you?”
exclaimed Ben.  “This is crazy.  Gulli’s been leaving us alone and no one’s
‘making a move’.  Besides, he has a small army of thugs working for him.  Even
with Saala and Rhys, that’s not a mess I want to get involved in.”

“Your
business, your call,” muttered Renfro.

“We’ll
look for new customers and we’ll get some more porters, but that’s it.  No
talking to Gulli’s people!”

A
few weeks later, Ben was still mulling over what to do with Renfro.  Their
business was doing well and his friend had gold in his pockets, which he’d
never had before, but he still wasn’t content.  Renfro spent most of his days
meandering through alehouses and worse, usually around the rougher areas of The
City near the waterfront.  He said he was prospecting for customers and
networking but those places rarely paid the premium Ben asked for his ale. 
They were most successful in the respectable taverns.  Those places had
clientele willing to pay up for ale that wasn’t watered down or soured.

He
tried to put it aside as he neared the Issen Consulate.  Amelie was getting her
regular free days now and they’d agreed to meet there.  That allowed her to
check for messages from her father that they didn’t want to pass through
strange hands on the way to the Sanctuary.  Also, Saala was staying there so it
was convenient to practice the sword with him.

Amelie,
true to what she’d said after the attack in Kirksbane, had begun studying with
Saala and Ben.  She was still a novice with blades, but learning the Ohms with
Rhys had improved her strength and balance.  Like Ben, she was quick and had
the natural grace of a dancer, or a Blademaster.

Ben
was lost in thought as he ducked into the back door of the Consulate building
and nearly ran over a small mousy man who crashed onto the floor.  A meaty hand
shot out from the side and slapped against Ben’s chest sending him stumbling
back a pace.

“You,”
a high pitched voice said with a lisp.

The
owner of the hand stooped down to pull up the mousy man and Ben saw it was the
bodyguard Raphael and Lord Gregor’s seneschal Tomas.

“I’m
so sorry!”  Ben scrambled to help up Tomas, but Raphael gently lifted him to his
feet as if he was light as a feather.

“I
suppose I shouldn’t be surprised you’re still around,” sighed Tomas.  “Got a
taste for the good life did you?”

“What?”
asked Ben.  He thought he should be offended.

“No
worries.  Amelie is a big girl now and can handle her affairs.  She’s in the
courtyard with Saala.  Since you’re walking in here so confidently I’m sure you
know where that is.  Raphael and I were just about to head out to tour some of
The City’s baths.  They’re really quite splendid, have you been?”

“Oh,
no, I’ve been focusing on getting a business started,” mumbled Ben in response.

“Of
course you have.  Amelie is an investor I assume?  The only investor perhaps?  I’m
certain it will be a profitable venture, whatever it is.”  Tomas breezed out
the door with the hulking Raphael in tow without waiting for a response.

Ben
was certain now that he should be offended.  The diminutive Tomas obviously
didn’t like him, but he supposed that made sense.  The man was after all the
right hand of Amelie’s father.  He had a right to be protective and suspicious
of anything involving her.

The
clack of reeds on reeds drew his attention back to why he was there and he
strolled out into the courtyard to find Amelie trying to hold onto her practice
sword as Saala casually, and almost lazily swatted at it.  The scene brought
back memories from his first few days with the sword and he silently hoped he
didn’t look half as awkward as she did when another swipe from Saala sent her
sword spinning across the open space.

She
saw Ben standing there when she turned to retrieve her practice blade and
panted, “sorry to start without you.  Maybe you’d care to take a turn.  I think
I’ll watch for a little bit.”

Ben
grinned at Saala, stripped off his shirt and drew his own practice sword. 
They’d gotten to the point they would spar for hours with no breaks, but he
remembered how early on he felt exhausted after half a bell.

The
advantage of being with Amelie at Issen’s Consulate was that they treated her
like the Lord’s daughter she was.  There was no anonymity for her in that
place.  Which was nice when a veritable swarm of staff brought out a light
lunch of meats, cheeses and fruits along with chilled water and white wine. 

Ice
was barged down from Northport but at this time of year nearly two thirds of it
may melt before it got to the freezer rooms in The City.  It was not a luxury Ben
could afford and not one that was even available outside of winter in Farview. 
It was a luxury he was happy to enjoy though as he sipped on a delicate crystal
glass of the cool, refreshing wine.

“It
shouldn’t take more than a month, maybe a month and a half,” said Saala.  He
was discussing a trip he would take with Seneschal Tomas to Akew Woods, the
westernmost city on the continent of Alcott.  The forest around Akew Woods was
rumored to be populated by lawless tribes of primitive peoples.  No one really
knew though because there was limited commerce over land and little reason to
travel there.

Tomas’
mission wasn’t explained to Ben, but Saala and Amelie both thought it was worth
the extra protection the Blademaster could provide.  Amelie, behind the walls
of the Sanctuary, was as safe as she could be.

“Well,
I’m sure Ben would be happy to continue my tutelage in your absence,” Amelie
said.

Saala
replied, “I’m sure he will also.  That’s a whole new level of skill, Ben.  To
be able to teach, you must know something very well.”

“I’m
not sure how well I can teach the sword, but I am happy to try.”  Ben was
confident he could help teach Amelie to hold the blade and she really wasn’t
far advanced past that yet.  He also looked forward to having one on one time
with her.  He enjoyed Saala’s company, but the man had little sense of humor –
particularly when it came to Amelie.

“Do
you think Meghan will come next week?” Ben asked Amelie.

“I’m
not certain,” she said.  “She says learning to become a Mage will make the
sword an irrelevant skill.  Maybe she’s right, but harnessing energy takes a
lot out of you and knowing practical skills I think will always be beneficial.”

“I
do not claim to know much about these things,” started Saala, “but I do know
that understanding your own physical limits and gaining control over your body
will be helpful to you.  Magic is about will power and control.  Skill with the
blade can improve both of those things.”

Amelie
smiled at him, “I hope you’re right.  Meghan and many of the other girls spend
their free days studying.  I worry I will fall behind.”

“From
what I have seen with Mages in the past, it is not a talent only learned behind
walls and closed doors.  Few talents are.  Experiencing life is just as
important as knowledge from a book.”

Ben
groaned as he lifted another sack of barley out of the hand cart and tossed it
onto a pile of identical stacks against the cellar wall. 

He
winced as he saw a fresh cloud of dust puff up from the impact of the barley
sack.  Keeping the cellar clean was getting to be a near impossible task with
the amount of work they were doing down there.  He or one of the growing number
of employees swept it out daily now.  He knew he’d regret leaving this place
with it’s cheap rent, but soon they would need to find a place that was less
apt to collect dust.

“That’s
the last of this load,” announced Martin as he wiped sweat from his brow.

It
was early fall and starting to cool but the humidity had not quite broken yet.

“Thanks
Martin.”

The
man waved and rolled the cart off.  They had found space in a nearby merchant’s
warehouse to store their carts because they’d run out of space in the cellar.  Ben
started rearranging the barley sacks against the wall.

“That’s
a lot of material.  How much ale will it make?” called out a confident voice
from the cellar stairs.

Ben
turned and blurted, “Lord Reinhold!”

“Yes,
that’s what they call me,” drawled Reinhold with a sly smile.  He nodded to the
stack of barley sacks, “how much will that make?”

“Uh,
about 60 kegs sir.”

“And
how often do you produce that much ale?”

“It
takes a couple of weeks to ferment, but we’re starting a batch a week.”

“And
you have no problem selling that many?” quizzed Reinhold.

“Oh,
no.  We could probably sell a good deal more, but we’ve run out of room.  This
is the biggest batch we can make in this space.”

“I
see.  What kind of margin are you making on each of these kegs?  Ale is almost
entirely water of course, but surely it’s expensive to purchase these wooden
barrels and transport the stuff across The City.  There are a lot of taverns on
this island but I see sailors drinking whatever swill they serve down by the
docks and the high born and other wealthy citizens are inclined towards wine. 
How do you compete in that market profitably?”

“We
do Ok,” answered Ben slowly.  “Excuse me sir, but why are you asking all of
these questions?”

Reinhold
stepped the rest of the way into the cellar and made a show of examining it’s
contents before responding.  “I’m considering going into business with you.”

“I,
uh…” Ben was stunned and didn’t know how to answer.

“I’ll
pay fair value for a stake of course.  If what I’ve heard is true, then it’s
certainly more gold than you’ve ever laid hands on.  I also have access to
capital for expansion and networks you could leverage to get into places you
are currently not welcome.  The Foreigner’s Barracks for example.  The visiting
soldiers spend more on ale than the rest of the city combined.  I can get you
on their taps if you can stomach a lower price than what you’ve been asking. 
Most importantly, I can offer protection from Gulli.”

Ben
eyed Reinhold suspiciously.  The man seemed to know a lot about the business.

Reinhold
continued undeterred by Ben’s silence.  “I’m aware of what your current partner
has been doing and you and I both know it’s dangerous business.  Your friend
the Blademaster is leaving town and while Rhys is dangerous, he’s unreliable. 
When Gulli sees an opening he will take it.  You are not prepared for the type
of competition that man is.  Partner with me though and you have no worries.”

What
the hell had Renfro gotten them into now thought Ben.  He hadn’t even seen the
former thief in days.  Renfro spent most of his time down by the docks from
what Ben had heard, recently he had only been coming by to collect his share of
the profits and encourage Ben to keep hiring more strong backed porters. 
Renfro had taken to treating the men to a night on the town and always footing
the bill, which Ben knew was a tactic to buy their loyalty.  He just didn’t
know why.  When they’d last spoken, he confronted his friend about it but
Renfro blew him off saying it was just a way to recognize the help everyone had
been on their way to success.

“I
see you need time to think,” declared Reinhold.  “I can accept that.  But do
not take too long.  Gulli is sticking his nose in business that does not belong
to him.  He’s reaching outside of The City and disrupting trading arrangements
that have been in place for years.  His income is still almost entirely on
island though, so it’s time to send him a warning.  With you, I plan to take
his beer business from him.  That is the way I do things.  His way of dealing
with competition is more violent.  Keep that in mind when you decide what to
do”

Reinhold
swept up the stairs and Ben heard a clatter of arms and armor move as the Lord
made it to the streets.  He had a team of heavily armed guards up there Ben
realized.  He looked over at his sword leaning against the wall and felt like
things were spinning out of control.

That
night at a candlelit table at the back of the Flying Swan, Ben shared a pitcher
with Mathias.  His thoughts swirled around the earlier conversation with
Reinhold but Mathias brought him back to the present with news.

“Well,
I hate to be the one to mention this, but since you haven’t brought it up I
guess you haven’t heard.”  Mathias stared down at his thick hands wrapped
around a tankard.  “The Coalition is mobilizing.  I’m hearing there will be a
Spring offensive.”

Ben
shrugged, “we knew that was coming, right?  I mean, that’s been the talk at
least.  Both the Coalition and Alliance are building up armies.  You don’t do
that unless you’re planning to use them.”