Benjamin Ashwood (6 page)

His
vision spun with bright lights but Meghan’s scream jolted him to his senses. 
He looked up and saw the man drag her to her feet and try to wetly kiss her
face and neck.  She was not going easy and was kicking and clawing at the man. 
He was far stronger than her though and had one hand locked around her waist
and with the other he grabbed a handful of hair.

For
Ben, the world turned red.  He didn’t know if it was blood running into his
eyes or if it was rage, but he felt an energy burning through this veins that
he’d only felt once before, when the demon attacked.  He sprang to his feet,
snatched up a sturdy wooden chair, hauled back and smashed it across the man’s
back with all of his might.

The
man fell down onto his knees and Meghan shrieked in terror, scrambling back
from him.  Ben yelled at her to run and turned to go with her but his heart
sank when he felt a hand grip the back of his tunic.  He spun around and with
all his weight behind it he launched his fist straight into the bearded man’s
face.  The man’s head snapped back but he didn’t lose his grip on Ben’s tunic. 
The big man blinked rapidly, shook his head then spit a thick globule of
crimson red on the floor.  He laughed in Ben’s face and his eyes lit up like
lanterns.

“Lad,
you’re a feisty one.  This is more fun than I’ve had in weeks.”  He then
pounded his fist into Ben’s gut, blasting the air from his lungs and causing
him to dry heave as he felt his knees turn to water.  But he didn’t fall.  The
man was holding him up and lifted Ben above his head as easily as Ben would
lift a small sack of flour.  The huge man then hurled Ben across the room.  He
went sailing over one table and bounced off another before thudding to the
ground at the feet of the man’s companions.

Ben
took a painful gasp of air as he looked up at the merry faces above him and
heard the man call out, “hold his arms.  I think the kid made me bite off a bit
of my tongue.   I’m going to take a piece of his in exchange.”

Two
burly men drug Ben to his feet as he thrashed around trying to get free.  He
saw the man spit another blob of crimson and wipe at the stream of blood
running down his chin.  The man pulled a razor sharp knife from his belt and
winked at Ben.  He strode forward tossing the knife back and forth from hand to
hand and chuckling wickedly.

Ben
could not take his eyes off of the blade.  The fire light flickered across it’s
edge as it spun between the man’s hands.  Ben struggled to gain enough breath
to shout for help from the inn’s bouncers, or anyone, but he was still winded
and gagging from the punch to his gut.

Suddenly,
a hand shot into Ben’s field of vision and axed into the bearded man’s throat,
dropping him like a sack of potatoes.  The two men holding Ben let go and
shouted in disbelief, one charging forward and the other reaching for his
sword.  Ben slumped helplessly to the ground and watched as Saala swept
effortlessly forward and smashed his elbow into the charging man’s face.  The
force of the blow sent the man crashing flat onto his back where he lay
motionless.

The
third man had his sword free and leapt over Ben towards Saala.  As he pulled
back for a swing, Saala stepped in close.  Saala gripped and twisted the man’s
sword arm with one hand while the other chopped down onto the man’s elbow
causing an audible crack.  The man shouted in pain, dropped his sword and
cradling his broken arm he slunk backwards away from Saala.

Saala
calmly stooped down to pick up the fallen sword.  He ignored Ben, the man with
the broken arm and the unconscious body of the second man.  The big bearded man
had rolled onto his side and was gripping at his throat, kicking his feet as he
struggled to draw a breath.  Saala kneeled and plunged the point of the sword
into the hard oak floor just inches from the man’s face.  The man froze like a
startled deer and all sounds seemed to stop except for the harsh wheezing of
painful breath. 

Ben
struggled to hear as Saala softly spoke to the man, “the girl told me what
happened and what you intended to do to her.  Slightly harder and instead of
injuring you, I would have crushed your throat and you would be dying right
now.  I want you to know this, to know that it would have been easier to kill
you and I made an effort to spare your life.  I want you to think about this moment
for the rest of your life every time you talk to a woman.  If I ever hear that
you attempted to force yourself on another woman, or even if a woman complains
about your company, I will return and I will kill you as easily as I mounted
the steps to this inn.”

The
bearded man whimpered in response.

With
a clatter of weapons and shouts, the two portly bouncers finally arrived,
shoving their way through the loose circle that had formed around the fight. 
They were both brandishing heavy, iron bound oaken cudgels and raised them as
the larger one spoke to Saala, “hey now, there ain’t no fighting at Murdoch’s. 
You got a problem you settle it out on the road or we crack your head open and
take your purse for our trouble.  Murdoch don’t give a damn about whatever
feuds your master got – around here you cause trouble, you pay for it.”  The
bouncer gave a nasty grin as the pair split up, attempting to circle Saala. 

“From
the looks of things you’ve already caused plenty of trouble.”  The man turned
towards his partner and said, “what does it look like to you Mord, two silver
worth of trouble?”  Mord held a silent grin and cracked his cudgel against a
table, causing the man with the broken arm to give a pained, sympathetic
whimper.

Mord
glanced quizzically at the injured man then frowned as he reevaluated the
scene.  “Mert…” he started.

Saala
rose to his feet and interrupted in the same soft tone he always spoke in, “you
sirs are too late to prevent this and I have almost finished doing your job for
you.  These men accosted a female companion of mine in your inn and you failed
to protect her.  If any damages are to be paid to Murdoch, it will be by these
men.  And if my companion asks it, I will have recompense from you also.” 

Saala
then raised his foot and swiftly brought his heel down with a sickening crunch
onto the bearded man’s hand.  The man’s hoarse shriek filled the silent common
room.  Saala glanced down at the bearded man who was writhing in pain clutching
his hand.  “I trust the loss of function in this hand will be all the reminder
you need?”

When
Saala returned his gaze to the bouncers, Mert swallowed hard and gripped his
cudgel with both hands.  He was a tough, hard man and he had been in his share
of scuffles with equally hard men, but he had never encountered someone who
stood so cooly and completely devoid of fear after being threatened by him and
Mord.  And this man wasn’t even armed.  Mert glanced at Mord and saw him
nervously licking his lips as he surveyed the wreckage.

Mert
was saved from responding when Rhys drunkenly stumbled into the center of the
men.  “Well there you two are!  What the hell have you been up to?  I was
halfway asleep ‘fore I realized you weren’t there and thought you’d gone off to
have another pint without me!”

The
two bouncers took a step back in silent, unspoken retreat while Rhys barreled
on.  “Ben, how long have you been lying there?  Passed out drunk huh?  You
better not be thinking you’re sleeping in the same bed as me if you’re smelling
like the damn barroom floor.”  Rhys kicked away a few shattered pieces of a
chair and hauled Ben to his feet.  “Let’s get you off there ‘fore I decide I’m
gonna throw you in that river out back.  Serve you right, not being able to
hold your liquor and all.”  Rhys gave Ben a sly wink before clapping him on the
back and pulling him towards the hallway where they were staying.  Ben saw the
girls had clustered around Meghan and were pulling her down the hallway
already.  “Ah, don’t feel too bad.  Believe me, I’ve fallen asleep in worse
places.”

Rhys
droned on as he guided Ben to follow the girls down the hall.  Saala haughtily
eyed the room one last time before following.  The crowd stood surveying the
damage and watching Mord and Mert in disbelief.  Murdoch ran a relatively
peaceful place, as far as roadside taverns go, but the place had it’s share of
action.  No one had seen the two bouncers cowed by anything less than near open
warfare – and even then they only paused to bring backup.

The
next morning, Ben winced at a sharp twinge in his side as he spooned down a
warm bowl of oatmeal.  He was fortunate that despite the hearty beating he’d
taken he hadn’t suffered any incapacitating injuries or broken bones.  The
bumps and bruises would make for a few unpleasant days on the road but he’d
suffered as bad sparring with the quarterstaff.

Meghan
got the worst of it.  She kept a straight enough head to run for help as soon
as she was free, but despite her lack of physical injuries, she had been deeply
shocked by the sudden brutality of the world outside of Farview.  At home, no
one would dare lay an unwanted hand on a woman.  Out in the world, even a
crowded common room was unsafe.

During
breakfast Meghan kept silent while Amelie and Meredith hovered over Ben,
inquiring about how he felt and complimenting him on his bravery.  Privately,
he knew bravery played no part.  He’d reacted on instinct without considering
the consequences.  If Saala had not arrived when he did, Ben would have been
left in much worse shape.  He’d profusely thanked Saala last night, but the
Blademaster took the entire incident in stride and seemed more concerned about Ben’s
injuries than the ugly violence he’d visited on the merchant’s guards.

Lady
Towaal had barely spoken the night before.  She’d been in the common room when
the fight ended but made no move to interfere.  Ben wasn’t sure if that was
because she arrived too late or if she had other reasons.  She professionally
checked Ben’s injuries before instructing Saala and Rhys to have him ready for
travel in the morning.  She wasn’t at breakfast but the girls said she was up
and out of the room before they’d woken.

Ben
gulped down the last few bites of oatmeal when he saw her striding in the door
and across the room.  Without preamble she barked, “everyone ready?”

When
the group nodded in assent she continued, “good, we’re wasting daylight.  I
inquired about supplies with the quartermaster and bought enough rations for a
few days.  Rhys, he’s holding it for you to pick up.  I also got this.”  She
held up a plain sword and scabbard hanging from a worn leather belt and tossed
it on the table in front of Ben.  “If you’re going to be travelling with us,
you’ll need to learn to defend yourself.  Saala or Rhys can instruct you.”

Ben
stared in disbelief.  He never thought he would need to own a sword.  Being
trained to use it by a Blademaster was something that wasn’t attainable even in
his dreams.  He ran his hand across the smooth wooden hilt and steel
cross-guard and marveled at the weight when he lifted it.  He slid the blade a
hand’s length out of the scabbard and tested the edge with a finger.

Rhys
snorted in mirth, “you ought to be able to teach him not to cut himself by the
time we get to Fabrizo, right Saala?  First things first, why don’t you show
him how to belt the thing on.”

Saala
solemnly replied, “I’m not sure I’m much of a teacher, but I will try.”

Despite
Ben’s enthusiasm, the lessons progressed slowly.  Each night on the way to
Fabrizo they would take two or three bells for sword practice and the first
lesson was grim foreshadowing of how stern a teacher Saala could be.  He was an
absolute perfectionist when it came to the sword and Ben soon realized his
imagination of dramatic sword fights had little to do with reality.

Ben’s
daydreams involved him swinging across decks of sinking ships, fending off
pirates in overlong contests of stamina and cunning before defeating an evil
character with a masterful stroke.  But according to Saala, a sword fight
rarely lasted more than several heartbeats and if it did, it was generally due
to rank clumsiness of the combatants.  When Ben pressed, Saala admitted it was
possible that in the rare contest where there were two skilled, equally matched
swordsmen, it could possibly take a little longer.  But he was firm in stating
that this was no concern of Ben’s since any skilled swordsman would dispatch
him with ease.  And Saala made sure to provide numerous object lessons to drive
that point home.

The
road to Fabrizo would take them several weeks to travel and was sparsely
populated with little towns the size of Farview or smaller along with the
occasional hostel.  They frequently stopped at these places for fresh supplies
but Lady Towaal usually pushed them to keep moving and they spent the night on
the road.  Aside from her constant concern about speed of travel, she claimed
most of the small town inns were filled with vermin and that she’d rather spend
the night in the open than any of the frequently ramshackle places they passed.

Ben
was happy to spend the nights in the open.  He was used to going on overnight
hunting trips with Serrot in the mountains around Farview and the early Spring
weather was cool but comfortable.  Bedding down in the open also provided him
plenty of time for sword practice with Saala and thankfully fewer witnesses. 
The ones he was traveling with were plenty.

His
first lesson in using the sword came on the first night out of Murdoch’s.  They
made camp a good stone’s throw off of the road on a small hill.   It was clear
of the pine forest that filled most of the flat space in the area and had good
visibility up and down the road but they didn’t think they would need it.  This
section of the Callach Road was well travelled and this close to Murdoch’s
there was little concern for bandits.