Ian 2

Chapter 3

Price's ice blue eyes raked up and down Castle's frame. "Halsey asked me to give you the grand tour, Mr. Castle. The Forge is far from the usual gentleman's club. There is no room devoted to discussions of the intricacies of the market, over brandy and cigars. Nor do we have what at other clubs are euphemistically referred to as playrooms. We are adventurers, and the facilities here support those pursuits."

"I make my living portraying adventure, Mr. Price," Castle responded. "What you describe sounds fascinating."

"Then follow me," Price instructed. Castle suppressed a shudder when Price opened the door to a room where the walls were festooned with animal trophies. "Humans are predators, Mr. Castle. And in the view of the members of The Forge, that is a positive attribute. Many of us are hunters. We take down the weak, strengthening the herd. Performing the function for which we were created, strengthens us as well."

"How does that work?" Castle asked.

"I'll show you," Price replied, leading the way to another door. Part of the floor of the cavernous room inside was covered with mats. Kendo sticks and fencing paraphernalia were on display, as were a variety of other swords and blades. Two men were in the midst of a battle with quarterstaffs. "We hone our fighting skills to triumph in nature and also against each other."

"You don't use guns," Castle queried.

"No. There is little challenge involved with that. We do use both the crossbow and the longbow. Most of us prefer the longbow because greater degree of mastery is required." Price led the way to a gym featuring free weights and a sparring ring. "This is our workout area. We have certified trainers on staff." Price appraised Castle again. "Your upper body strength doesn't look too bad, especially for someone in as sedentary a profession as yours. There is a great deal of work you could do on your core. Mike can instruct you on that. He arrives later in the day for members who come in after work."

"And what profession do you pursue, Mr. Price?" Castle inquired.

"My family has dealt in meat packing for several generations. My work now is largely advisory, but I still maintain butchering skills. I keep my own blades for the purpose, and I sharpen them myself. I also assist our chef on occasion."

Price led Castle down a hallway to swinging metal doors. "This is our kitchen. Many members bring their game here to be dressed and served. Some of our members are also skilled in other means of living off the land. Our chef develops recipes employing wild mushrooms, ramps, purslane, and a variety of other edible plants."

"If he's cooking wild mushrooms, he'd better know what he's doing. I've used those as murder weapons in two of my books." Castle remarked.

Price slapped Castle on the back. "I can assure you he does. We haven't had a member bite meet his maker here yet, at least not from the food."

"What do you mean not from the food?"

"We did have a member collapse during training," Price explained. "An undetected aneurysm burst. He was dead before the paramedics could arrive. But it could have just as easily happened on the subway, or worse, behind the wheel of a car. He went out fighting. That is how we would all prefer to exit this earthly plane."

Castle could think of two ways he would rather die, the second being of old age, but he kept his opinion to himself and shifted the subject. "Mr. Price, as I understand it, The Forge has special interest groups. I'm particularly interested in the one on ancient weaponry. I'm exploring the subject for one of my books."

"You are correct, Mr. Castle. The groups meet in the gathering area. In fact, I believe the weapons group is on the schedule for tomorrow night, if you would like to attend."

"Yes, Mr. Price, I would enjoy that very much indeed."

On the sidewalk outside The Forge, Castle took a deep breath. Certain that Kate would be more than ready for a rescue from her Aunt Theresa's ministrations, he was anxious to return to the loft. But he needed to make a stop along the way. He had an irresistible urge to pick up dinner from a vegan restaurant."


Kate took a bite of a quinoa stuffed pepper that Rick had brought to her bedside. "This is delicious Castle. And after what you've told me about The Forge, I can understand why you weren't in the mood for one of your rib eyes."

"Ian doesn't quite share your opinion of the fare," Castle confided. "He tried to eat some because he has his eye on a young lady in his class at SVA, and she's a vegan. But he sampled a few bites of quinoa then promptly hauled a bag of his go-to pepperoni pizza rolls out of the freezer."

"Maybe they make a vegan version of Hot Pockets," Kate suggested. "he's never been able to resist those."

"Good thought. I'll suggest that he look into it."

"So, are you going to the meeting tomorrow night?" Kate asked.

"If there's someone who can be here with you," Castle said. "Ian told me he has an extra tutoring session."

"No problem. Perlmutter is on tomorrow night, so Lanie is coming over. She said she has a new look she wants me to see."

"Can't do better than having our favorite doctor at your side. I'll bet Perlmutter wants to snag the next body. Sometimes I think that man has a genuine bloodlust. He might enjoy the Forge - if he could afford it. Their membership dues rival college tuition. Not Ivy League, but a good state school."

"You know, Castle, you don't have to investigate The Forge. It's not your job, especially with the extra work Gina is piling on you."

"Kate, as long as our slasher is out there killing more victims, if I can search him out by going somewhere the cops can't, I'm going to do it. Anyway, they're only charging me for a month to start, and I can write it off as research. I already have a character in mind for one of the tiny tomes Black Pawn wants."

"Are you basing him on Price?"

"No, Brendon Halsey, the guy at the front desk. He'll make a terrific obsequious henchman. I can already picture it. In fact, I think I'll get it down before the vision fades from my mind. I can bring my laptop in here if you want me to keep you company."

Kate reached up to squeeze his hand. "That would be great, Babe."


Gordon Johnson carefully crafted a leather sheath for his newest acquisition. Of course, to make it, he'd killed the deer and skinned it himself. He'd set a snare, then put the animal to death with one stroke of his blade. He was merciful; he was always merciful. Death was as instantaneous as it could be. His skill guaranteed that. He'd prepared the venison for his freezer and tanned the leather. It was perfect; just what he needed to protect the ancient blade. The weapon had lasted through the ages, absorbing the life energy of many, and he could hardly wait to show off his treasure. At the auction where he'd obtained it, there had been many bidders, but he'd emerged victoriously. Now the power it held was all his. He could feel frissons shooting through his fingers as he stroked the blade. And there would be more to come.