Benjamin Ashwood Series: Books 1-3 (Benjamin Box) Page 7

  They passed from the tall marshy grasses into open water that gently lapped against the pilings of the causeway. Once in the open, the city spread out before them. It was made up of many islands all connected by arcing bridges. In between the islands, Ben saw small boats darting about and outside the cluster of buildings there were larger barges.

  The sight was like nothing he had imagined. He’d pictured towering city walls and soaring buildings all guarded by imposing gates. While there were no walls and no gates, he could see why Rhys said it would be hard to attack. An attacker would need to assault each island individually, then cross a narrow bridge to get to the next one. It would be an ugly mess. If the defenders were determined, nearly impossible.

  At the end of the road, the causeway spilled into a large square that was surrounded by market stalls and paths leading off into the rest of the city. The square was dominated by a towering obelisk in the center and a sprawling palace opposite the causeway.

  Ben gawked at the menagerie of people, animals, and goods in the square. Lady Towaal bore through the center of the chaos like it wasn’t there. He scrambled to follow behind her. They turned down a side street, crossed several bridges and passed through narrow alleys before entering what Ben took to be an inn. But it was unlike any inn he had seen before. There was no loud music, no raucous drinking, and no gambling, just a handful of people sitting quietly around tables in hushed conversation.

  The innkeeper bustled up to Lady Towaal and bowed over her proffered hand. “So glad to have you back.” He eyed the group. “Three rooms this evening? Baths? Dinner? How many nights will you be with us?”

  “Yes, yes, all of that, Master Cranston. We’ll likely be here a few days,” Towaal calmly answered the innkeeper.

  “Sauza!” he barked, “Show the ladies to two front rooms and have Zin prepare the baths. This way, sirs, this way.”

  Rhys shared a grin with Ben and they followed the efficient seeming Cranston up the stairs toward the street side of the building. A girl appeared and took the girls deeper into the inn. Ben realized the ‘front’ of the building must actually be on the water.

  The place exuded a sense of age and wealth. The walls were painted a deep crimson that matched the colors the staff was wearing. The steps were well made but worn. There was a rich paneling of some type of wood framing the crimson walls. Ben did not recognize the wood, but he could tell at a glance the candles ensconced along the hallway were expensive. They gave off a pleasant scent of oil and sandalwood. He was thankful he could share a room with the other men and that Towaal hadn’t asked him to contribute. He wasn’t sure if his coin would get him more than a night or two in this place.

  The room itself was snug but comfortable looking. They barely had time to set down their gear before Cranston disappeared and returned to take them to the baths. He dropped them off and vanished again. In the bathing room, there was a series of large copper tubs. Three of them were filled to the brim with steaming hot water.

  Rhys was first to strip down and gave a big sigh as he lowered himself in. “There are at least a few things they do right in Fabrizo. Enjoy it, boys. We’ve still got a ways to go, and it’s not all going to be as nice as this.”

  Saala paused to collect a towel and bar of soap off a rack at the side of the room and plunged into his own tub, dunking his head under the water and coming up grinning. Beads of water rolled off his shaved scalp.

  Ben noticed a complicated system of pipes and valves leading from the tubs to a tank and stove in the corner then back into the wall. He’d never heard of anything like this, but decided they must somehow heat the water with the stove and pump it into the baths. He was walking over to investigate, and was considering the possibilities to adapting this system to brew beer when Saala splashed and sent a sheet of water his direction. “Rhys is right, get in.”

  Rhys quickly called for chilled wine and the men emptied a pitcher before they finished bathing. Over the billowing steam from the baths, they discussed the next stages of the journey.

  From Fabrizo, they would book passage on a ship to travel across the Blood Bay to the city of Whitehall. Saala thought it might take a few days to find passage as tensions were rising between the two cities.

  King Argren of Whitehall was raising pressure on the leaders of Fabrizo to join his Alliance of Nations. Publicly, King Argren said it was to counterbalance the power of the Coalition that had formed in the east, but Saala explained rumors were flying that it was merely a naked power grab by the king. Fabrizo, unlike the other powerful cities along the Blood Bay, was ruled by the Merchants’ Guild. Because their power base was commercial instead of political, they saw no reason to join The Alliance.

  “And why would they bow to Argren? He’s got the armies, but they’ve got the money,” snorted Rhys. “They’d be fools to join him.”

  Saala gave Rhys a meaningful look. “Some of our party may not feel that way.”

  “Oh, I know what she’s about,” replied Rhys. “There’s a reason they sent Towaal all the way out to get her. It’s a dangerous game her father’s playing.”

  “I don’t think her father’s the only one playing games,” murmured Saala.

  Rhys chuckled and sunk lower into his bath. “You may be right there. I say we leave them to their games. I’m for gold, girls, and grog.” He sloshed his wine mug up in a mock toast. “Here’s to doing our jobs and keeping it simple.”

  Saala raised his mug in response and replied, “If you say so.”

  Ben remained silent throughout the exchange, hoping they’d continue to ignore him and say more. He was realizing that there was more to this trip than simply travelling to the City. He’d wondered why Amelie wasn’t travelling with a large entourage or acknowledging Meredith as her handmaiden. If she was on some sort of mission on behalf of her father, then maybe secrecy was paramount.

  Before dinner, Ben pulled Meghan aside and told her what he’d heard. She had similar suspicions, but neither of them had much real information.

  “Let’s keep it between us,” he said. “I like all of them, but we don’t know them, and we don’t know if we can trust them.”

  Meghan nodded in agreement. “We’re part of this group now whether we like it or not, but no reason we can’t look out for ourselves.”

  Despite the serious thoughts and concerns, Ben couldn’t help but enjoy dinner. It was an experience unlike any he’d had before. His first shock when they sat down in the common room was the silverware laid out on the table. He picked up a heavy fork and, with a start, saw it was made of actual silver. The idea that someone would make something so utilitarian as a fork out of currency was crazy. It was an over-the-top display of wealth that was beyond even the Pinewoods in Farview.

  The rest of the meal was just as bizarre. It was a series of small plates that just kept coming. The first dish was a simple pasta and tomato sauce, but that was the last thing Ben recognized. There were vegetables floating in alternating sweet and spicy sauces, tiny meat filled pastries, steamed beans that curled strangely when poured out of a heated pot, thin wafers he thought might be bread that seemed to melt on his tongue, baked fish, grilled fish, lightly fried fish, and even pieces of raw fish.

  A whirlwind of staff floated in and out of the room in an intricate dance, collecting the prior course and dispersing new dishes. The thread of conversation from earlier in the day had completely fallen off and everyone focused on the meal. The vast array of dishes, flavors, and textures meant there was little room for anything else.

  Ben was seated next to Amelie who did her best to show him the proper way to eat each dish and explain where it was from. The fashion in Fabrizo was to bring in foods from a variety of cultures. The art was in creating complementary pairings and menus. As the meal went on, Ben started to notice not just how the flavors interacted with each other, but how the texture and color of each dish was a play on the previous one.

  By the time it was over, several bells after it started, it was late
evening. Ben felt like he was stuffed to the point of exploding. The entire group was worn out from the trip. The rich meal, coupled with being clean for the first time in two weeks, meant an early night for all of them.

  The next morning, Ben slept in and woke to find Saala and Rhys already out of the room. He headed down to the common area and found Lady Towaal and the girls sitting over a light breakfast.

  In her usual brusque tone, Towaal said, “The men left to find a ship and arrange passage. The girls and I will take advantage of the day off and begin talking about their studies in earnest. You are on your own for the day but return here by nightfall and be ready to depart at a moment’s notice.”

  Amelie chimed in, “You should check out the Fish and Stranger’s Markets. Also, we need some ribbon for our hair. I’ll want to tie it up on the ship. If you see something, could you pick it up for me?” She slid a few coins across the table. “Use it for the ribbon and you can spend the rest on something you need.”

  Ben scooped up the coins and was surprised to see three thick silver marks. Unless the price of ribbon was very different in Fabrizo, it was far more than he would need. From Amelie’s grin, he realized she knew that as well and probably knew he had very little of his own coin to spend. He bowed his thanks and caught Meghan’s eye. She looked more than a little jealous.

  He winked at her and exclaimed, “Enjoy your studies, girls!”

  The prospect of spending the entire day exploring a city like Fabrizo couldn’t wait, so he dashed up to his room to gather his coin purse and sword then swept out of the inn without stopping for breakfast.

  The night before, he had been overwhelmed with everything he saw. He had barely registered the street outside. In the early morning sunlight, he found that it was filled with wall-to-wall buildings painted in a rainbow of different pastels. Many of the buildings were accented with extensive, bright tile work. They were all about three or four stories. The first levels were packed with a wide variety of shops. There were narrow staircases in between many of the shops. He surmised they must lead to the upper levels where people lived.

  The streets were teeming with early morning traffic. He saw people running the same types of errands they would do in Farview that time of day. There were women carrying wicker baskets filled with produce, workmen pushing wheeled carts, and proprietors outside the shops calling out their wares. Most of them were dressed in the style of Fabrizo, loose trousers and billowing shirts. It must have been more comfortable in the heat and humidity. There were a few people on the street who were foreigners like him, but none seemed too out of place.

  He was tempted to stop in some of the more interesting-looking shops along the street, but he was more excited to explore the city itself. He picked a direction he thought was the opposite of how they came in and started off.

  At the end of the street, he found a stone bridge spanning a broad canal. He paused at the top of the bridge and saw the waterways were just as busy as the streets. There were several small boats darting about and a few barges. All of the buildings had pilings or docks on the water where the boats could tie up. Right by the bridge, there was a trio of workmen unloading heavy-looking sacks from one of the barges into a shop that must have been a bakery, judging by the delicious smell, though it was almost overpowered from the scent of saltwater, fish, and refuse.

  Seabirds flew overhead, their calls competing with the shouts from the workmen. Underlying it all was the constant lap of water as waves splashed against the buildings. Ben was intoxicated by the mix of sights, sounds, and scents that washed over him.

  He spent several long moments paused on the bridge overlooking the water then kept on deeper into the city. The place was a confusing maze of canals, bridges, and streets. Some were broad enough for three or four wagons to pass abreast, and some were so narrow he had to turn sideways to pass through. He was lost within moments but he thought he remembered the way to the inn from the large palace the night before, so he wasn’t worried.

  He found there was some sense of organization in that several of the streets seemed to have their own specialties. There was one street filled with gem cutters, several with different types of blown glass, and other streets for tailors, herbalists, cobblers, furniture makers, and so on. One street that made him pause was the armorers.

  Suits of chain mail, scale mail, helmets, greaves, maces, axes, spears, knives, and more types of swords than he ever imagined were displayed all along the street. Each shop opened up with more goods inside. Ben slowed his walk and his eyes greedily lingered over some of the finer-looking weaponry, but he knew there was nothing along there he’d be able to afford.

  In his dreams he often imagined himself heavily armed and armored, confronting a demon or some mythical beast, but the stunning array of equipment went beyond his imagination. The variety of swords alone was beyond counting and there were other edged weapons he couldn’t figure how one would even use.

  He eventually moved on after receiving some pointed stares from the shopkeepers. He wasn’t familiar with the customs in this place and didn’t want to cause trouble, though theft couldn’t have been common—at least not on that street.

  The smell was the first thing that let him know he was near the Fish Market. The entire city had a distinct scent of salt and fish, but the odor became much more powerful near the market. He noticed that the buildings were a little rougher, which made sense because who could stand to live near that. The paint was peeling or chipping on many storefronts and the cobblestones weren’t as even as he’d seen in more prosperous areas.

  On the outskirts of the market, there were several shirtless, intimidating looking men who at first he took to be thugs. They were lounging around in small groups paying little attention to passersby. He caught a few of them eyeing him as he walked. He adjusted his belt and felt the reassuring weight of his sword on one hip and his hunting knife on the other.

  It wasn’t until he saw a pair of them hurrying by with a wheelbarrow filled with fish that he realized they must all be porters for the shopkeepers and fish buyers. The fish wouldn’t last long in the heat of the day. It made sense it had to be moved quickly. Once he caught on, he saw there was a steady stream of barrows being pushed in from the docks and an equal stream leaving the market.

  The market itself was bewildering. He expected to see a variety of fish that were new to him, but there were creatures here he couldn’t even describe. He stopped to stare at one stall filled with cases of wiggling masses and heard the keeper bellow, “Urchins, live urchins! Get ‘em while they’re fresh. Caught this morning just off the Horn. Live urchins! Come on, lad, you buying or what? You keep blocking the traffic and you better be buying. Fresh live urchins!”

  Ben hurried on. He wasn’t sure what an urchin was, but it certainly didn’t look like something he wanted to eat.

  He’d been exploring the market about half a bell when he heard a familiar voice and turned to see Master Cranston haggling with a shopkeeper over a pile of long, shiny-scaled fish. Cranston’s helper Zin was in tow, carting a wheelbarrow half-filled with sea creatures. Ben spent a few heartbeats trying to guess which ones he’d eaten the night before. Most of what was in the barrow didn’t resemble anything he remembered eating—or would want to eat again.

  He shouted out, “Master Cranston!”

  The innkeeper turned with a scowl on his face before he recognized Ben, then instantly adopted a beaming smile.

  “Yes, yes, you’re the boy who came with Lady Towaal, right? How are you enjoying our city? First time is it?” He barreled on before Ben could think of a reply, “The Lady Towaal, did she send you out for something? Anything I can be of service with?”

  “Uh, no, sir. Just out seeing the city,” responded Ben.

  “Excellent, you’ve come to the right place. Fabrizo has the best Fish Market anywhere on the Blood Bay. Best anywhere in the world, some say, and I don’t know enough to disagree with them. Come along with me.”

  Cranston bo
unced around the market like he owned the place, Ben and the overworked Zin pulled along in his wake. From the reactions of the shopkeepers, Ben saw Cranston was one of their best customers. He seemed most interested in odd choices, he kept repeating rare and was obsessed with freshness. His thoroughness was assuring to Ben, who figured he’d be dining on many of these selections later that evening.

  The innkeeper maintained a constant stream of questions and comments, only pausing to closely inspect a particular fish or quickly turn and do a count of what he’d already purchased. He questioned Ben closely on Lady Towaal’s needs, which Ben wasn’t sure he was qualified to answer, but from the questioning, he realized Towaal must be something of a regular and occasionally passed through with small groups of young people. He decided her job with the Sanctuary was some type of recruiter for new Initiates.

  Cranston also paused at several stalls and picked out samples for Ben to try. It wasn’t until then that he remembered he’d skipped breakfast that morning so he hungrily snapped up what was offered. Cranston himself frequently spit out the samples, “These damn fish mongers don’t even know how to cook their own goods. Phef!” He glared at one poor shopkeeper. “You fried this! A fish this delicate should be sautéed with butter.”

  Ben thought the samples were pretty good, straightforward and simple, but a gourmand like Cranston must be used to classier fare.

  Before long, Cranston was done in the market and said he was heading across town for other supplies. He sent Zin back to the inn with stern instructions on what to tell the cook.

  “Master Cranston,” Ben asked, “which way is the Stranger’s Market?”

  “Ah, yes, for a boy like you with a head full of adventure, that is the place to go. Watch your purse, lad, and watch out for the women. Wouldn’t do, Lady Towaal catching you talking to the wrong types.”