The Founders Four

Blackmail

Salazar was finding it difficult to sleep. He knew why this was. Knowing the source of these problems was the easy part but ridding himself of the niggling feeling at the back of his mind was a whole other matter. It wasn't that he was worried Benedick may come for him in the night - such a ridiculous notion! What bothered him most of all were the things Benedick had said. He just couldn't believe that his parents had been involved in such dark magic. He'd always remembered them as kind souls. He had been young when they'd died but he couldn't have been so manipulated and so distracted that he didn't notice something as serious as that. No...it couldn't be true.

"Salazar...Salazar, are you alright?"

But then...why did he continue to question every little thing about his parents? Did he really doubt them?

"Salazar?"

"Yes," he said quickly, as Belle brushed him lightly against the arm again.

They had hastily moved from their last Inn and were now residing in a far quieter - if not a little grotty - establishment on the outskirts of the city. Salazar would have left for Scotland early but knew he couldn't leave a single stone unturned. He had to make sure there were no more potential students here before he left. It would be a little more difficult without Benedick's help but he could do it. He had to.

"Are you thinking about the things he said?" She asked knowingly. "You mustn't dwell upon them. He is a horrid man."

"Yes," he said again. "I must go," he added, after a slight pause. He hastily began to pull on his boots, trying to ignore the subject completely now. "I have heard tell of strange young urchins that roam these streets early in the mornings."

"Very well," she nodded. "Be careful, my love."

"I will," he smiled, kissing her tenderly upon the cheek before he left the dim little room.

As he stepped out into the bloody light of dawn a great sense of unease immediately took over. He was far removed from the centre of the city, almost at the outskirts, but he didn't trust the quiet. He began to stroll through the streets, trying his best to ignore the paranoia. The further into the maze of little houses and buildings he got, the more inhabitants he spotted. Butchers and landlords had risen early to go about their days' work. So far Salazar had not spotted a single child, let alone a homeless, bedraggled one. He knew he'd have to go into the grimmest part of this area of the city, a prospect that did not bode well with him.

As he left all sense of civilisation behind - the well-dressed people, the clean streets - he started to feel rather grubby. The streets he now walked along were dark and dank and they smelt strongly of rotting food. He held his breath and tried to move in a different direction to the smelliest parts. Then, by a great stroke of luck, Salazar bumped into just the thing he was looking for - literally.

"Pardon me, Sir!" The bony, dirt splattered child said quickly, before dashing off down the street and down an alleyway on the left.

"Wait!" Salazar called after him. He then reached into his cloak pocket as comprehension dawned. "You little - ! Give back that purse, you thieving rat!"

He chased after him and could hear the child's bear feet slapping against the rough ground. As Salazar caught up he could see the scruffy little boy glancing anxiously over his shoulder after every few paces. This proved to be unwise when he tripped over his own feet and went crashing into the floor. As he groaned and rolled over Salazar saw that great streams of blood were trickling from his nose. Salazar slowed to a walk, fixing the boy with a very disapproving look.

"That serves you right," he told him sternly. "Now...give that back."

As Salazar made to walk towards him the boy's eyes lit up in fear. Before Salazar got anywhere near him, however, something most peculiar happened. The entire alleyway filled with a bizarre and highly unnatural fog. In seconds Salazar's vision was obscured and he could no longer see his hands in front of his face, let alone the boy. He fumbled around, attempting to reach out to the boy and take back the purse of money but was unable to locate him. He growled angrily when he realised he'd gone. Once the fog cleared, the alley was perfectly empty.

*

For the rest of the morning Salazar wandered through the city looking for the thieving little urchin. He'd first pursued the boy simply to take back what he'd stolen but now he was seeking him for an entirely different reason. That fog had not simply formed of its own accord.

"Excuse me," Salazar said uncertainly, approaching a gentleman dressed as only an officer of the city could be. "I am looking for a boy, a street urchin."

"Is that so?" He grunted, raising his eyebrows as he looked him up and down. "For what purpose, Sir?"

"He stole from me," he replied, deciding to keep things simple.

"Then I should help you find him."

"No," he said quickly. "I would rather find him myself, teach him a lesson. I'm sure you understand."

"Quite right, Sir, quite right," he nodded approvingly. "Do you remember his appearance at all?"

"I'm afraid not. It happened very swiftly," he replied.

"Yes, they do that," he nodded. "All look the same, grubby little things!" He paused for a moment, obviously thinking carefully. "Your best bet would be to look down by the old ruins, on the outskirts."

"Thank you," Salazar said, relieved he had something to go on at least.

He dashed through the now bustling streets and soon found his way towards the outskirts. It made sense that the urchins would choose the ruins as a place of refuge. No one ever went there anymore, as it was where the old city had been built many years ago.

As soon as he entered this distinctly quieter region of the city he slowed down, exercising great caution. He would never be afraid of a mere child but he wasn't sure what a pack of feral vagabonds were capable of. It didn't take long to locate them, as he soon heard the unmistakable sounds of children. Was that excitement in their voices?

He weaved his way carefully over the rubble and ancient foundations and ducked down behind a sturdy stone pillar. As he peered over the top he saw them - no less that fifteen filthy children ranging from infancy to adolescence. They were all staring adoringly towards one particular child - the thief. He stood atop a particularly large pile of stone and spoke down to them all like some ridiculous lord. He was a skinny little thing with a lanky appearance; this was quite clearly the result of a growth spurt. Salazar guessed he was between the ages of thirteen and fifteen, a little older than most of the others. Now that Salazar could get a better look at him he realised the boy's hair was a sandy blonde, beneath all the dirt caked into it.

"What did you get, Art?" One of the smaller children shouted.

"Something that will see us right for weeks, maybe even months!" He grinned, removing Salazar's velvet purse from his pocket. He jingled it about and the children all began to chatter excitedly when they heard the coins inside. "Now, I'm a reasonable gentleman," he continued, adopting an air of superiority. "So, naturally, we'll share it."

As he opened up the purse and began removing the coins, Salazar lost his patience. He began to stride across the rubble, startling the children immediately. They all jumped up, staring warily at him as they began to back away. The boy with the purse seemed to lose all the colour from his face.

"Remember me?" Salazar asked, quite calmly.

"I thought you said you weren't followed!" One of the girls squeaked.

"I wasn't!" He insisted.

"That doesn't belong to you, does it?" Salazar went on.

"Nothing we own belongs to us!" He spat. "We don't have anything!"

"That doesn't make it right for you to steal," Salazar pointed out.

"Alright then, you can have it back!" He said, looking anxious. "Just don't tell no one. Don't turn us in to the guards. You don't know what they'd do to us!"

Salazar knew it was a little underhand to use this to his advantage but saw it as a golden opportunity.

"How about if I were to make you another deal?" He asked, stepping a little closer to the boy.

He glanced across at the other children before he replied.

"What kind of deal? You want slaves, is that it? You're lookin' for workers?"

"Not exactly. The deal is only open to you, however." The boy remained silent so Salazar continued. "You can keep the money, you and your friends," he said, glancing across at the sorry-looking bunch. "But I want to speak with you alone."

"No chance!" He snapped. "You'll probably kill me when they're not lookin'!"

"Do I look like a violent man?"

The boy stared at him for a few moments and them performed a half-hearted shrug, obviously unsure what to make of him.

"I want to discuss what happened back in that alleyway, after you took that money from me."

His face grew even more pale and he looked highly uncomfortable now.

"What is he talkin' about?" One of the other boys demanded.

"Nothin'," he said quickly, maintaining eye contact with Salazar. "Just take this back to the shelter," he instructed, throwing the other boy the purse. "I'll meet you back there."

"But you can't - "

"Just go! I'll be fine."

The children slowly exchanged glances, looking highly uncertain about this arrangement. They seemed to decide that it was best to listen to the boy who was clearly in charge of them. After they were out of sight and their footsteps had died away the boy looked more worried than ever. He carefully descended the pile of rubble, reluctantly approaching Salazar.

"What you saw, it was - "

"Quite skilled for someone of your age," Salazar said matter-of-factly. "How old are you?"

"Recently turned fifteen, Sir," he replied. It was funny how he now addressed him in a far more respectable manner. "But, please, you can't tell anyone! There are stories - awful stories - about what happens to those who practice...dark...dark things. Were you sent to hunt me down?" He demanded quickly. "I'll admit it, I will. You can burn me at the stake but don't take it out on the others. Some of them are so young, they couldn't - "

"Calm down, boy!" He barked. "Why would I burn my own kind?"

The boy just stared at him with exceptionally wide green eyes, taking in his full appearance as though he had only just seen him properly. He looked both terrified and awestruck at the same time. For a split second a small, nervous smile seemed to turn up the corners of his mouth.

"What's your name?"

"Flamel, Sir. Arthur Flamel."

"Hello, Arthur," he smiled. "My name is Salazar and I'm rather pleased to have found you."

Arthur stared up at him in utter bewilderment, obviously believing that he was joking.

*

As it happened, Arthur was not too sceptical about Hogwarts. Naturally, Salazar told him everything and invited him to attend when fall came around. Arthur eagerly agreed. Salazar had expected him to do so, as he had no parents, no family...nothing to stay in London for. Salazar was so pleased to have found him that he practically bounded back to the inn, knowing the boy would be a true asset.

"You look happy," Belle smiled when he entered their little room on the second floor.

"Exceedingly," he beamed. "A celebration is in order!"

"You found a student?" She asked knowingly.

"I did indeed. He is remarkable. So skilled for his age! And to think - a mere street urchin. A true diamond in the rough!" He chuckled, still amazed at his own find. "We shall go for a celebratory drink!"

"The bartender has been using old barrels again," Belle said quickly, looking highly reluctant. "I believe some customers have retired home and become ill."

"Only the finest will do tonight," he said. "We'll go to the Black Horse Inn!"

"Is that wise, Salazar?" She asked anxiously. "The guards of the city tend to drink there. What if we are - ?"

"We shall keep a low profile," he insisted. "Easily done."

They trekked through the bustling town later that evening but it was worth it. The Black Horse had a welcoming atmosphere, the most delicious food and fresh, crisp ale. They deserved for something good to happen and, in turn, deserved to celebrate it in such a way. They obviously chose a table at the back of the room so as not to attract any attention. The bar was very crowded this evening so is wasn't as difficult to blend in as they'd expected. They were simply lost amongst the noise and chaos and were very pleased to be so.

Once their bellies were full and their thirst had been quenched, they ventured back out into the dark night. They were now in even higher spirits, as the alcoholic beverages they'd consumed had taken hold.

"Things are certainly going our way, my love!" Belle smiled, as she and Salazar trundled haphazardly up the quiet street.

"Indeed!" He grinned, planting a lingering kiss upon her rosy lips and almost causing her to fall backwards into a water barrel. When they broke apart they found themselves in fits of laughter.

"Where is our Inn?" She asked, squinting around the dark street.

"In that general direction!" He replied, pointing randomly and beginning to chuckle again.

"Oh, I should like to spend every day of my life like this," she sighed, leaning in close to him for support.

"Ambling drunkenly down unfamiliar streets?"

"No!" She giggled. "No, I mean with you!"

"Oh, I see. I'd very much have to agree with you there."

Belle grinned again and then began to stare around.

"I really am very tried. You don't suppose that is a short cut?" She asked, indicating the shadowy entrance to an alleyway.

"Perhaps," he nodded. "It does look rather familiar. Come, my love," he smiled, supporting her as they hobbled into the darkness.

After their first few steps a peculiar sound seemed to echo theirs. It was not merely the resonating sound of their own footfalls. Those were the sounds of someone else; they were being followed. Salazar wheeled around, his senses sharpened. He squinted into the darkness behind them as he came to a stop but could see nothing.

"What is it, Salazar?" Belle asked sleepily.

"It's nothing," he replied.

As they turned back in the direction they had to head in they found their way blocked. Salazar's heart leapt up into his throat as he tried desperately to see who that silhouette up ahead belonged to. Belle froze next to him, obviously afraid.

"Who's that?" Salazar called. The shadow did not reply, continuing to stand stock still. "Show yourself!"

The moment he'd said this, Salazar found himself blinded by an overpowering white light. He squinted against it, feeling utterly disorientated, but then felt his entire body crash to the floor. He knew he no longer had a grip on Belle - he'd lost her. When his vision finally cleared he found himself lying upon the floor, his cloak entangling him. He scrambled to his feet and realised that Belle was not far away. She had been stunned into a powerful sleep but was wrapped up in the arms of another man. It was not a loving embrace, as the man who had hold of her was Benedick.

The rage that shot through Salazar's veins seemed to burn. He could tell by the look in Benedick's eyes that he was not here simply for a social visit.

"Let her go!" He growled.

"Careful, boy," Benedick warned, tightening his grip around Belle's neck as Salazar took a few steps closer. "Don't do anything foolish."

"What do you want?" He demanded.

"You know what I want," he replied calmly. "Although, last time we met you were very unwilling to grant me such a thing. Such a pity."

"You just want to manipulate young minds!" He spat. "I'll not let you, Benedick. It's wrong. I don't know what has made you think that such magic is the answer to your problems but it won't help you at all."

"How do you know?" He chuckled. "You've never even tried it."

"And I don't intend to!"

"Tell me, Salazar," he hissed venomously. "Do you love her?"

He shook Belle ever so slightly and the sight of her head lolling about like some sort of rag doll's only enraged him further.

"Just get away from her! If you harm her I'll...I...I'll - "

"You'll do what?" He mocked. "What could you possibly do to save her if you found yourself in another predicament such as this one?"

Salazar sent a hex flying in his direction but Benedick deflected it with great ease.

"Simple tricks!" He said, shaking his head disapprovingly. "You disappoint me, Salazar. Such a waste of talent."

"Let her go!" He roared, blasting another series of spells at the man he now despised.

Benedick's face contorted strangely as his own anger took over. He deflected these spells too but was now ready to attack. He sent a bright stream of green light flickering towards Salazar, which seemed to bind his limbs tightly to his body. It was a split second later when Salazar realised that the green light was forming chains and they were binding themselves around his entire body. He collapsed to the floor once again, feeling utterly useless.

"No!" He growled angrily.

"Yes, Salazar," Benedick chuckled softly. "You must understand that I'm only doing this to help you. I'm trying to make you understand."

"Trying to make me understand what exactly?" He snapped. "That you are deranged?"

"That there are going to be many enemies in your future, Salazar. Enemies that can do far worse than this. This poor young thing," he crooned, stroking the side of Belle's face as he carefully lay her down upon the ground. "She knows nothing of your world. She may be a part of it by loving you but that only puts her in greater danger. How will a simple Mortal girl such as this defend herself?"

"I will be there to defend her!"

"With your basic little charms?" He mocked. "In life we must fight fire with fire, my boy. You cannot possibly stand against those that pose a true threat by using the magic you have learnt. You must develop yourself in order to stand a chance."

"No!"

He sighed, looking a little disappointed by Salazar's reply. For a moment Salazar believed he might give up but, deep down, he knew better than that.

"Then you leave your love susceptible to dark magic such as this," he murmured, a nasty smile flickering across his lips.

Salazar watched in horror as Benedick loomed over Belle and placed a hand against each of her temples. He murmured something incoherent and then Belle screamed in such a way that it made Salazar's blood run cold. She began to writhe and moan in her sleep, as though she were experiencing some terrifying nightmare.

"No! What have you done?" Salazar roared. "Stop it!"

"There are such spells that can toy with the mind," Benedick said conversationally. "Some mild but others...so very aggressive."

"Stop!" He growled, when Belle continued to cry out in apparent agony.

Benedick simply grinned, apparently enjoying Belle's torment.

"How would you stop something like this, Salazar? How?"

"Please, Benedick!"

Benedick slowly turned to face him again, looking rather pleased about something. He placed his hands upon Belle's head once more and seemed to lift the spell, as she stopped writhing immediately.

"Tell me you could stop something like that from harming her, Salazar," he breathed.

Salazar was unable to speak. He had no answer to give. It pained him to admit it, even to himself, but he would have no help to give if something like that were to happen to Belle.

"The magic I speak of will only assist you," Benedick went on. "It would be a great asset."

"You've only proven that that kind of magic is used for evil, Benedick!" He snarled. "I'll not be a part of this!"

"That's a great shame," he sighed. "I rather thought you two made a lovely coupling," he remarked, pulling Belle's limp form up to standing again. "I suppose it was never meant to be."

"No, wait!" Salazar called, feeling highly panicked as he turned to leave with the sleeping Belle. "Please don't harm her. I'll...I'll do what you want, Benedick!"

"Do not think mere words will stop me," he chuckled. "You must prove your loyalty, your passion. You do not understand what a great gift I am offering to you. There are only so many of our kind that know of such magic. You could be great, Salazar. I will teach you such magic!"

Salazar began to shake his head in despair.

"You do understand what will happen if you refuse?" He asked quietly. "I would hate for you and your woman to be torn apart."

"I'm sure you would!" He remarked sarcastically. "I'll do what you want so long as you swear not to harm her. What do you want?"

"You will allow me to teach you the Dark Arts. You will become as skilled as the best of our kind! Then you will simply teach such skills to your students. They have a right to learn such magic."

"But I...Benedick, you can't possibly - "

"You will soon understand how rewarding it can be, Salazar, I assure you."

Salazar was taken by surprise when the chains that still bound him became loose and then vanished.

"I will give her back because I'm going to trust you," he said, shoving Belle forwards.

Salazar managed to grab hold of her and support her before she fell to the ground. He pressed her close to his chest, afraid to lose her again.

"If you betray my trust and do not come to me when I ask then I regret that you may find her in grave danger once more." Salazar nodded in understanding, too anxious to defy him now. "You will return to Scotland. I will contact you in due course."

And with that he turned and vanished into the darkness once more. The moment he was gone Salazar sank to the ground, still holding Belle tightly within his arms. He was hardly able to believe what had just happened. The prospect of what now lay ahead was terrifying. He had to do something he was dead set against. Every moral thought told him not to do as Benedick said but what choice did he really have?