Benjamin Ashwood (33 page)

“Whatever
you suggest,” grinned Amelie.  “We don’t know when we’re getting another free
day outside the grounds so let’s take advantage of it.”

“Let’s
go to the sculpture gardens first then.  The Issen Consulate is on the way and
we can pick up Saala.”

“The
Consulate?  Oh, please keep me away from that today.  Is there another way to
get Saala?  I do need to see him.”

“I
know a back way in and I can get him.  They’ve seen me there before.”

“You
know your way around the Consulate building?  Very fancy, you’re coming up in
this world,” smiled Amelie.

Ben
blushed, “only because Saala is staying there.  It’s not like I’m some high
born or something.”  Ben winked at Meghan, “now those people are fancy.”

Amelie
rolled her eyes and started towards the door, “let’s go see these sculpture
gardens of your’s.  You know how us high born get if we aren’t dazzled by
artwork at least once a day.”

They
picked up Saala at the Consulate building then bought some meat pies to eat
while strolling through the gardens.  Ben had come by once before and he was
impressed again by the statues and the greenery surrounding them.

The
gardens extended across several blocks in a serpentine pattern.  They were
designed to be seen along a looping path that circled the park.  The statuary
had been commissioned from many artists over the years but it was all supposed
to tell the story of The City.  Some of the figures represented grand moments
in history but some told everyday stories of the common folk.  Several were
made up of many pieces and a few could have filled a decent sized building on
their own.  The oldest were little more than worn down lumps of rock with small
brass plates detailing their origins – thousands of years before in a couple of
cases.

In
addition to the hard stone of the statues, the gardens were filled with a
profusion of plant life.  The gardeners put just as much care and attention
into their creations as the sculptors had.  Thickly planted bushes and deep
green ferns gave the gardens a sense of privacy in the middle of the busy
city.  Tall wooden structures supporting bright flowering and hanging vines
blended into the back drop of The City’s soaring towers and it felt like it was
all part of the same tapestry.

The
sculptures though were the highlight.  The flora fell into the background and
served as a pleasant accent to the history and artistry and unfolded around
them.

“Here,
Winged Victory,” said Saala as he pointed out a slightly larger than life
figure.  It was one of the most famous works in the park and a small crowd was
milling around it.  It depicted a headless and armless woman leaning forward
with her garments flowing behind, as if she was pushing against a strong wind. 
She had two expansive wings spread out from her back and one foot was set in
front of the other in mid stride. 

It
was remarkably realistic for a work of stone but Ben saw immediately the reason
it was famous was how the sculptor had captured the essence of the woman’s
triumph.

“Breath
taking,” pronounced Amelie.  She hung back from the work, as if afraid it’d
fade away if she drew too close.

“It’s
very good,” replied Meghan, “but what is she supposed to be victorious over? 
Is this in dedication of some battle or something?  I like some of the others
better where it’s clear what is going on.”

“It
could have been after a battle,” remarked Saala.  “No one is quite sure
though.  The sculptor and the reason behind the work have been lost through
time.  I’m not even sure the work was originally commissioned for display in
The City.  Many people think it was moved from somewhere else and that’s where
it could have been damaged.”  He gestured to the missing head and limbs.

“It’s
powerful as it is now, I can’t imagine how beautiful it would be whole,” sighed
Amelie.

“Less
impressive, maybe,” offered Ben to a quizzical look from Amelie.  “Think about
it.  What face could match the grandeur of the rest of the work?  In your mind,
you think about what expression the woman could have, you conjure the strongest
woman you can imagine.  The sculptor might have had something different in his
head.  Without the face, the work is a question as well as a story.”

“Maybe,”
Amelie pensively admitted.  “But still, I’d like to see what she looked like. 
Surely there must be records kept somewhere for something like this.”

“No
written records exist, from what I’ve heard at least,” replied Saala with a
shrug.  “Supposedly, not even the oldest of the long lived remember anything
other than this statue being right here.  Possibly The Veil knows more, but who
is going to ask her about it?”

It
wasn’t until later that night, when the girls had gone back to the Sanctuary
and he was tucked away in his cot that Ben started to wonder what Saala had
meant by ‘the oldest of the long lived’.

Before
that, they had a full afternoon exploring The City together.  After the
sculpture garden, they climbed one of the towers and spent a bell wandering the
sky bridges.  The bottom levels of the tower were dedicated to residences and
about 10 levels up, where the first bridges connected, it had shops that
catered to people living in the tower.  There were small grocers, apothecaries,
taverns and other places that people would visit regularly.

After
crossing the first sky bridge with it’s narrow wooden slats and slight swaying
when the wind blew, Ben shakily declared he needed a drink and they settled
down at a large tavern which took up an entire floor in the next tower.  Tall
windows were left open to catch a cross breeze that made it much more pleasant
than the street level venues Ben normally visited.

“How’d
you like to carry your kegs all the way up here?” teased Saala.  He lifted his
small glass in toast, “to Ben’s successful brewery and to our two Initiates
who’ve finally gained enough trust to be let out of sight for a day!”

Ben
and the girls raised their glasses as well.

They
were drinking a clear liqueur with squeezes of juice from the sour yellow and
tangy green fruits Ben saw in the Initiates garden.  The liqueur packed a punch
but with the juice it was a refreshing combination and perfect for the hot day.

With
a little liquid courage, Ben was able to enjoy the sights from the bridges and
appreciate the massive scale of The City.  From the higher vantage points, the
island spread out below them in an organized swirl of streets, parks and
buildings.  Unlike Whitehall or Fabrizo which grew up naturally, The City was
planned.  The result was a clean, sensible and beautiful design but it lacked
the spontaneity and excitement of the other cities.

 
From the bridges, the people filling the streets below looked like tiny bugs
scurrying about their day.  But to Ben, the most amazing part was the forest of
towers that rose around them.  The time and energy involved in creating the
structures staggered him, particularly when he thought about the boundless open
land just a day or two’s journey away from the island. 

He
mentioned it to Amelie as they stared down from one of the sturdy masonry
bridges and she responded, “people like being near other people.”

“But
look at this,” he said gesturing to the nearby towers, “a lot of these people
live in tiny apartments that they can barely afford.  Their kids have nowhere
safe to play and they’re always looking over their shoulders at what the
neighbors are doing.  They could sell their places here and move out to the
country where they’d have a roof over their heads and more than enough land to
raise crops and support themselves.”

Saala
smiled and countered, “but that’s all they’d have, which is better than good
for a lot of folks.  These people though, they want more.  They want excitement,
they want entertainment and most of all they want to win some imaginary
competition that they all play with each other.  That’s the culture of this
place, it’s what makes them feel good.  They’re all looking over their
shoulders because they compare themselves to their neighbors and in some way
they want to win.  More wealth, a better view from their apartment, famous
friends, secret knowledge and of course, power over others.”  Saala shrugged,
“having enough just isn’t enough for some people.”

Amelie
wrapped an arm around Ben’s waist.  “You’re a simple man Ben.  Which is to say,
a good man.  One who knows himself and knows what he wants.  Not everyone
does.”

“I
don’t think I always know what I want,” replied Ben as he felt Amelie’s arm
around him.

“You
do, you just don’t know it yet!” laughed Saala.

The
night ended at The Flying Swan Inn with Mathias personally suggesting and
serving his favorite dishes.  Mathias’ first love was ale but he had a knack in
the kitchen also.  He brought out heaping plates of food for them to share.  It
wasn’t the fancy fare they’d eaten on their journey in Fabrizo or Whitehall,
but it was good and it fit.

“So,
tell me about my investment.  Going well I hope?” Amelie jokingly asked Ben.

“It
is going well.  Mathias here is my first and best customer, but we’re expanding
across town.  We had to hire two full time porters to keep up with deliveries
and I’m worried we’ll need more in a few weeks.  I’m making a trip off the
island tomorrow to look for additional materials.  I hear they’re cheaper off
island.”

“Really?”
broke in Meghan.  “You never needed help like that in Farview.  I just, I
thought you were going to be doing the same thing here.”

“It
is the same thing.  It’s beer,” replied Ben sardonically.  “There are just a
lot more people here to drink it.”

“I’m
so proud of you!” exclaimed Amelie.  “I’ve heard The City is a tough place to
do business and I think it’s just great you’re doing so well.”  She looked to
Saala, “why didn’t you tell me it was going so well?  You’ll be a major player
in no time Ben!”

“Well,
I don’t know about that…”  Ben thought back to the conversation earlier in the
day about having enough.  It seemed everyone from Renfro to Amelie now was
pushing him to keep expanding.  Every time they added a new customer or hired
someone, it was a little more work and a little less free time for him.

“Keep
your respect for the craft, enjoy what you do and the business will take care
of itself,” advised Saala.  He knew what Ben was thinking.  “You’re young still
and you have options.  This is just one of them.  It will feel less like work
if you think about it as exploring an option.”

The
next day, Ben, Renfro and their two porters made the trip off island to buy
more wooden kegs.  By asking around over the course of a few weeks, they found
a cooper who only charged half of what they were paying on the island.  Ben
figured with those savings they’d be able to put away some of the gold and
silver they were bringing in instead of pouring it all back into the business.

“We
should be in the business of selling empty kegs,” grumbled Renfro as they
helped the porters pull two over loaded hand carts up a short hill.

Ben
laughed.  “It’d certainly be easier than hauling around the loaded versions.”

Martin,
one of the porters, grunted in assent.

At
the top of the hill they paused to catch their breath.  “I really think we’re
going to need to hire some more men once we fill these up,” said Renfro.  “Poor
Martin over here is going to collapse on us one day.”

Martin
grunted in assent again.  Ben looked his way and then nodded over towards a
nearby bar that opened to the street.  Martin took the hint and gestured at the
other porter to join him for a break.

“I
think you might be right.  This batch is going to be half again bigger than the
last one.  I’m not sure we’ll be able to sell it all though.  I don’t want to
bring on a lot of people then find out we don’t need them, or worse, can’t pay
them.”

“You
know we have more than enough coming in to pay a few more guys,” argued
Renfro.  “And we won’t have any problems selling the stuff.  Now is the time to
expand because Gulli is up in Venmoor and no one is minding the store.”

“Gulli
is in Venmoor?  How do you know that?” demanded Ben.

“I’ve
been talking to some of his people.  They’re not happy with the way he’s
running things recently.  Let’s just say they’re open to new ideas.  Anyway,
he’s got bigger fish than stocking barrooms in The City.  They say he’s up
there trying to buy up what’s left of the arms market.  Trying to get ahead of
the build-up with the Alliance and the Coalition.  Good luck I say.  Reinhold
and his ilk are three or four months ahead of him.”

“You’ve
been talking to Gulli’s people!  Damnit Renfro, I don’t care if he is out of
town, that’s reckless.  Someone’s going to tell him.  He’s dangerous Renfro, we
can’t risk doing something stupid.”

Renfro
leaned back against one of the handcarts and crossed his arms, “we’re dangerous
too.  Let’s put that Blademaster friend of your’s to work.  Finally get
something out of it.  Maybe go talk to Rhys too.  I’m not convinced he’s not
all talk, but we can throw him a little gold and put him on the payroll.  His
name means something in some of the circles in this town.”