Thru the Badger Hole (Badger Hole Bar Book 1)

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Thru the Badger Hole (Badger Hole Bar Book 1) Page 7

by Taki Drake


  Her confrontational look softened when he made no comment about her other than a courteous greeting. Looking him deliberately up and down, the small woman said in a surprisingly deep voice, “Emesh said that you’re going to be opening the bar and that we should start to resume provisions for you. Is that true?”

  “Yes, that is true.”

  “All right, we supplied the previous existence with meats both game and cultivated. We will start to bring some of those provisions tomorrow. Make sure you have a place to put them.” As the woman turned to leave, she spun back, saying, “Oh, I forgot. Here is something to tide you over.”

  She thrust a wrapped package at Madrik so abruptly that he took in self-defense. Wordlessly, he watched the woman march away, unsure of what had just happened. Holding the package, he stumbled back into the bar and laid the wrapped bundle on the bartop. Shaking his head in bemusement, Madrik thought to himself, And the day just keeps getting stranger. A gurgle of amusement bubbled across their connection, and the BHB joined him in wonder.

  Chapter 10 – This Way be Monsters

  A warning tingle was rising along their bond. It seemed to be coming from Madrik, and the BHB was concerned. Madrik was antsy, pacing around the bar uneasily, unable to sit for any length of time or even concentrate on his beloved lists. He’d been taking great pleasure in checking things off as he took an inventory of what had shown up in this last evolution, but his nervousness drove him to his feet.

  It felt like a storm coming, like the smell of ozone before lightning hits. Madrik was unsure, and that made him worry even more.

  The BHB was getting frantic, wanting to prepare for an event that was unknown. Madrik had been walking back and forth between the bar and the fireplace so many times that he had even stopped counting the steps. This is ridiculous. I need to stop pacing like this, he thought to himself. Spinning about quickly, he bumped the staff that was leaning against the table. Reflexively, he caught the staff in both hands just short of it clattering on the floor.

  Holding that sturdy piece of wood in his hands calmed him down. He felt not only calmer but like his mind was suddenly clear. At that point, his subconscious kicked him into high gear. Smashing an image down to the BHB through their channel, he sent a picture of all of the tables cleared away from the wall that had been used as a projector screen. Also, for some reason, he pictured a pile of boards next to the fireplace and two hammers leaning against the wood. A small keg of nails was sitting there, long thick nails like you would use for heavy construction.

  The urgency of his image galvanized the BHB into rapid movement, and a series of flashing lights presaged the changes that happened. When Madrik could see again past the glowing spots, the barroom looked exactly like he had pictured it. The BHB was tense, and so was he. When nothing immediately happened, Madrik started to feel embarrassed like he had just called wolf and nothing was happening.

  Before he could wallow in self-effacement, the plain cream colored wall flashed into a different configuration. Instead of a smooth wall, there was an ornate door centered on it. The shock to the BHB was high, and he knew from the response that the bar had not created that door. Something else was punching through.

  Suddenly, Madrik realized that someone was behind him and whipped his head around to see who it could be. It was Emesh. The kind, friendly stranger no longer looked so peaceful. Instead, he carried a staff of his own, and he was facing the wall with a determined look on his face.

  Standing next to Emesh was the little brown woman holding a bow that was almost as tall as she was. Two others of her kind, a smaller woman and an older man, formed her backup. They also were dressed in brown and carried large bows. Another male was standing with them, different in appearance than either Emesh or the small brown people. His skin color was pure white, and his eyes were deep black. He did not look physically powerful, but the way he held a slender sword in his hand told Madrik that he was battle trained and not a civilian.

  A dull roaring sound rattled the bar and increased in volume as if it were getting closer. Madrik took a firmer grasp on his staff and wished he had armed the bar with bigger weapons. He knew it was too late for this encounter, but if they lived through this battle, he would rectify his error. He would also not make that same mistake again.

  The door slammed open, and a large being was propelled through it as if thrown. A 7 ½ foot mountain of a humanoid with rough features and matted, dark hair. The force of that transport caused him to stumble and crash down on his knees. The obviously male creature scrambled to his feet and spun around to look at the door. Making a dash back to the open doorway, the huge man slammed into an invisible wall so hard that Madrik couldn’t restrain a gasp of dismay. Everyone in the barroom could see the opening, but their visitor was blocked from returning back through it.

  Thundering his mixed anger and frustration, the alien man pounded on the barrier that kept him from going back. Nothing changed. Overcome with disappointment and anger, the man dropped to his knees and raised his head to howl despairingly into the air.

  The sound of that cry touched Madrik to the depths of his soul. He recognized the loss and grief that were contained in that package of emotion. He had felt that toxic mixture not too long ago himself.

  For a brief moment, the man beat his fists against the uncaring doorframe, splattering the wood with blood as the skin over his knuckles broke. Finally, he hung his head down, and great sobs ripped from his chest as tears poured from his eyes and washed down his face.

  Through his bond with the BHB, Madrik could feel an echo of another voice. A woman’s cadence and speech, one in great pain and anguish, but strong with determination. The faint echo of her voice was not directed at the BHB or him. Its focus was the man who sobbed helplessly against the doorframe.

  The tone of the whispering voice changed. Madrik could clearly hear the admonishment it was delivering and a faint but clear name, Brechal. The crying man gulped audibly before replying. Both Madrik and the BHB heard the man’s response clearly. “Goodbye, my love,” he whispered brokenly.

  The man on the floor shuddered in pain uncontrollably for a moment but then stopped with a force of will that twisted his face in a reflection of emotions pushed aside for the moment. Wrenching his body around to a crouching position, he shot to his feet. Swinging his gaze across the faces of each of the beings in the room, he pinned each of the defenders with the laser of his burning eyes. Bellowing in sudden fury and rage, the man shouted, “There are monsters on the other side of the door, and they want to come through!”

  The tone of his voice as much as the words that he used galvanized them all into action. While the swordsman and archers kept watch, Emesh and Madrik scrambled to assist the huge man in barricading the door. Even the BHB hurried to help.

  The BHB extended thick roots of wood that held the doors closed until Madrik and Emesh had placed and hammered the sturdy planks that had been waiting on the floor of the barroom. The huge man had helped without a word, his only sign of distress the rough breathing through a throat recently tortured with great emotion.

  As soon as a complete lattice of reinforcing boards had been constructed, overlapping all edges of the doorway, the BHB wove in an entire second layer over the barricade with tendrils that glistened with a black ceramic coating. Weaving a dense mat of those enhanced organic threads, the doorway soon appeared to be a textured, black portal.

  Only when that effort was complete did Madrik relax at all. Falling with a thump onto one of the chairs, he leaned his head against the hand that was holding his staff and concentrated on slowing his heart rate and deepening his breathing.

  Emesh started to speak, but the swordsman flung a hand up in caution and said, “Something is coming.”

  Madrik pulled himself to his feet and readied his staff. Emesh also had regained his staff and stood directly to the left of Madrik. Out of the corner of his eye, the bar manager could see the huge man wildly glancing around the room looking for a weapon
. Before he could make a suggestion, a thick tendril of wood blasted up through the floor and grew to be shoulder height on the large man. There was a brief coalescence of icy white light that enshrouded the top of the wooden column. When it dissipated, a spiked oblong knob remained. The big man gasped in astonishment and put his hand around the midpoint of the shaft. Instantly, the weapon came free of the floor and dropped with an audible thud into his hand.

  This pole weapon was sized for the large creature that was holding it. Far thicker than Madrik’s staff, it had the shape of a cudgel. Obviously pleased with the choice of weapon, the big man took a position on Madrik’s other side, swinging the cudgel slightly as if learning its balance.

  The group in the barroom had no more time. A smashing impact on the outside of the door rattled the entire structure of the bar. Madrik could hear the BHB yelling in fear and anger. Sending a quick thought of support and reassurance through their bond, Madrik joined the rest of the group in watching the attack on the door. At this point, there was nothing they could do until the force on the other side either went away or broke through.

  It seemed like forever, but Madrik thought it was probably only a few minutes. The intensity of attacks slowly diminished as the creature, the monster, on the other side of the door tested every portion of the closed portal. It was nerve-racking, watching the intelligence of the monster communicated by the methodical way it attempted to smash or force each corner, each edge, and each joint of the door.

  The tension in the room ratcheted higher as the attacks continued unabated until suddenly everything stopped. Madrik could not hear any sound from the other side. Maybe the creature has gone, he thought.

  So suddenly that Madrik jump back in startlement, the attack on the door resumed with even more fury and force. What had been a strategic testing before was now a contest of pure power. Once again, the defenders held their weapons ready and positioned themselves strategically. This time the brown archers had taken cover behind the bar, although the smallest of them had climbed up to sit on top of it, sacrificing increased safety for better sightlines.

  Emesh continued to stand next to Madrik, as did the stranger. The swordsman stood off to the side of the door and closer than any of the rest of them to the portal. With a short-range weapon like a sword, it made sense for him to be in what amounted to an ambush position. If something did come through the door, he would be placed to take advantage of a strategic attack from the side or the rear.

  Even the massive fury of the forceful attacks was not enough to get through the portal blockade. Eventually, the attacks got weaker until they finally ceased. This time, Madrik was so wound up that he was reluctant to put his weapon down or relax enough to sit. They all continued to watch the door, waiting for the next round of the assault on the BHB.

  Finally, the swordsman took a deep breath and sheathed his weapon. Turning to Madrik and Emesh, the stranger said “I can no longer hear anything on the other side of the door. Until now I could hear something breathing there, but the sound has receded. At the present time, I hear and sense no being in a position to attack.”

  It was Emesh’s turn to drop heavily onto a chair. Shaking his head, he remarked, “I’m too old for this.”

  Chapter 11 – Aftermath

  Madrik stared at him for a moment and then broke into laughter. Hysterical in some ways, it still was a cleansing action, and the archers and swordsman joined him in howling their mirth.

  Only Emesh and the large humanoid refrained. The huge man was standing in the middle of the room with an unfocused gaze and grief drawn deeply into the lines of his face. He didn’t appear to realize where he was. Emesh watched him, his eyes kind but sad.

  Madrik finally had time to examine the being that had made such a precipitous entrance into the bar. Dear God, that guy is huge! He must weigh at least 400 pounds, and it looks like it’s pretty much all muscle. I would hate to wrestle with him! he thought to himself.

  The bar manager found himself a little nervous about having the unknown man in the BHB. He started to fret about what to do when the BHB made it clear that it had no doubts about having the man around and that he was supposed to be there.

  Shrugging his shoulders, Madrik decided that since he didn’t have any specific reasons for worrying about the stranger that he would trust his companion. After all, there were so many other things he needed to do.

  The sound of a clearing throat drew Madrik’s attention to where the swordsman and the brown trio were standing together. Addressing Madrik directly, the swordsman bowed slightly and said, “This has been a very momentous and strenuous event. Rather than discuss our business today, we will return tomorrow. The Adnoji will bring the proper meats and fish for you while I will accompany your normal delivery person to explain the type of foods that we will provide.”

  Madrik started to scramble to his feet but was stopped by hand gesture from the swordsman. Stymied, he watched in silence as the four of them left the bar. Taking a shaky breath, Madrik said to the room in general, “I could do with a quieter day myself. And a stiff drink.”

  Closing his eyes, Madrik put his face into his hands. He could hear a few small clinks and then sensed someone standing next to him. Straightening up, he turned his eyes to see the large humanoid holding a glass toward him. Inside the tall, thin glass was a layered drink, bright with color and beautifully arranged. It was something he had never seen before, and he looked inquiringly at the very tall person that had made it.

  A rough, gravelly voice said, “It’s a drink called something unpronounceable, but the words mean ‘shock and terror.’ When someone has been shocked or terrorized it is a recommended treatment for the traumatic experience. You look like you could use one.”

  Before Madrik could respond, another voice interrupted him. It was an unfamiliar one but someone that the bar knew. The pleasure and anticipation flooding down through his companion’s bond told Madrik that this was a favorite friend and not another foe. With that in mind, he turned to the new stranger with a smile on his face.

  At first glance, the man looked ancient. White hair and a long white beard reinforced that impression. Looking much older than Emesh, this man had a roguish twinkle in his eye and was dressed in a motley of different layers of clothing. Looking at the man with a head to foot inspection, Madrik realized that even his shoes were mismatched.

  Emesh said, “I was wondering when you were going to show up, Storyteller! I expected you to have already made the new bar manager’s acquaintance.”

  “Unfortunately, I was away when he took over ownership of the bar. Otherwise, I would’ve managed to meet him far before you did and at least given him some understanding of what was going on.”

  “That is your option and your responsibility. It is not mine, as you well know.”

  Testily, the storyteller responded, “True, but I’m here now.”

  “That is good since I need to leave, and I believe that our good bar manager needs a bit more information. Hopefully, you will be as forthcoming as you are allowed to be.”

  Feeling disoriented and abandoned, Madrik watched Emesh move toward the door. Turning right before he left, Emesh called back, “I will see you tomorrow, Madrik. As usual, I will bring the fruits of the Garden, but perhaps we can walk around a little and discuss plans that you might have for the BHB.” With that, the gardener waved and left.

  Numbly, Madrik stared at the door that had so recently held the person he had known the longest here in this bizarre world. He heard the storyteller call out to the large stranger, “I hope you’re up to mixing two more of those, boy. I know I could certainly use one, and from everything that I have just seen and heard, you probably should mix yourself a double.”

  Once more, the sounds of subdued glasses clinking could be heard. Madrik saw the big man walking out from behind the bar and moving toward the table that held Madrik’s staff. The storyteller was seated across from the bar manager and was leaning on the table, elbows propped and hand
s under his chin. The old man had a half smile on his face as he watched the big man moving toward them.

  Madrik shook himself to settle his scattered wits and tried to focus. Addressing the big man, Madrik said, “Please join us. My manners have been poor although my gratitude is high. I am Madrik, the bar manager. Or at least I’m planning on managing the bar. Thank you for your warning and for your efforts.”

  The huge man sat down gingerly on one of the chairs, only relaxing after it was obvious that it would bear his weight. He had handed the smaller drink over to the storyteller and now put both hands around his own. “You are welcome, although it is only fair to say that I brought the trouble to you. It was pursuing me and chased me here.”

  “I’ve only been here for a few days, but it’s my impression that no one comes to this area without a reason to be here.”

  The storyteller broke in, saying, “It’s amazing that you figured that out. Although everyone has the free will to enter, their arrival usually means that there’s a connection to the BHB in some way.”

  Madrik asked, “What you mean? I was pushed down a hole to get here!”

  “But you’ve had choices. And you made a choice to stay. In fact, you made a choice to anchor the BHB, and this is the cornerstone of the whole domain.”

  Madrik just stared at the old man. He was at a total loss for words and didn’t know how to go on.

  In the silence, the big man took up the conversation. “I got pushed too! It was not my choice, and I would go back if I could.” His voice was raw with grief again, and his face was drawn into a snarl of rage.

  The storyteller didn’t appear to be intimidated at all. He continued as if the fury and the power that sat across from him was no danger. That, more than anything else, told Madrik that the old man dressed in mismatched clothing was far more than he seemed.

  Madrik kept his mouth shut and simply listened to the conversation between the two others for a short while.

 

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