Thru the Badger Hole (Badger Hole Bar Book 1)

by Taki Drake

  The slender man occasionally spoke haltingly as if he expected ridicule or punishment for what he was saying. He gained confidence as the two men made it obvious that they were interested and that they respected the information that he was providing.

  The food and drink also helped. Wynn kept urging more food on the scholar, ensuring that there was always some new tidbit on his plate. Glaux was happily ripping into a cooked drumstick from a large bird. Making happy, chortling sounds to himself, the large owl used his powerful beak to shred the flesh and allow him to swallow it.

  Madrik suddenly felt disoriented, as if everything had become sharper and clearer. Staring blindly at the table surface in front of him, the bar manager’s eyes came into focus enough that he saw the people around him.

  Glaux was primping his feathers after a satisfying meal. The bird’s actions crystallized Madrik’s feeling about the subtly confining bar. He felt like he was in a cage and was trying to fly out. Desperately, the disoriented man just needed time to think. Standing up and uttering a semi-articulate apology about needing some air, Madrik quickly walked out through the open middle door.

  It was better outside. Madrik felt like he could breathe again and he took deep gulping breaths, filling his lungs and calming his fragile nerves. Driven by a need for action, he started to stroll along thinking about all the changes that had happened in his life in such a short period of time.

  The dimension anchor came around the end of the bar and unconsciously turned toward the right, drawn by something unknown. A rustling in his pocket made him think of the map, so he reached in and pulled it out. Somehow, he was not surprised to see that one of the spirals had been replaced by the outline of a building. Since it was very close to where he was standing, Madrik walked a little bit further until he was standing at the corner of the garden on the north side of the bar building. Dimly, he could see that the chaos fog had been pushed back and a new path had been defined. The shape of a large building was visible in the twilight that served this pocket universe as night. In some ways, it called to him as if it were lonely.

  Shaking himself to gather his scattered wits once more, Madrik realized he heard something that sounded like a low toned conversation. Walking forward just a little, he realized that there was a conversation going on between the library and the BHB. It reminded Madrik of old friends that were meeting after many years apart.

  Right now, the BHB and this other building were chatting like gossipy old men leaning over a pickle barrel in an old-time general store. They sounded just like similar meetings that he had with his former teammates, catching each other up on the events that had happened to them and reestablishing a friendship. He could tell that the BHB was happy, satisfied that his friend was there and reveling in the renewal of the friendship.

  Pleased for his companion, and more at ease with the situation, Madrik turned to go back into the bar. As he walked a few more feet, he could feel more puzzle pieces connecting in his brain. Things that were previously not attached became part of a whole, and the power of that assembled knowledge exploded through his brain, shattering the locks that had kept him from being open to different ways of thinking. The echoes of that evolution sent ripples all the way down his nerves. Momentarily dizzy, he stopped with his hand on the outside of the bar building. Instantly, he felt the concern of his companion and a faint apology from another entity. Reassuring both of them that he was all right and that they shouldn’t change anything. Madrik took a deep breath and straightened up.

  Heading determinedly back toward the bar, he reminded himself that he was the bar manager and he was the BHB’s companion. There would be challenges, but they could be overcome.

  He had work to do.

  Chapter 27 – Brews and Brawls

  What had started out as an unintended opening, with no advertising or determined effort to get customers in, had turned into a fully operational bar. Multiple times a week, small problems would be brought up and cheerfully addressed by the people that were drinking there. Only one other time had the necessary skill or knowledge not been present to address the problem. That night, the right-hand door had opened to allow a 10-foot millipede to come in. That was the only description that Madrik could come up with for a segmented wormlike creature with a plated face and fuzzy antennae.

  The people in the bar had taken in the visitor’s strange appearance without a qualm. Brechal had somehow known what to provide for a drink, and the whipped soft cheese appetizer had been consumed by their visitor with every appearance of pleasure. It turned out that the solution to the problem was a piece of knowledge that the millipede had, one that spawned surprising discussions all over the taproom.

  Alastair and Brechal had watched carefully as the millipede had exited out of the same door that he used for entry. The BHB didn’t seem to have any problems with either the entry or the exit of his alien problem solution provider. Madrik wondered if they were all getting a bit too blasé about the whole thing. But the bar was crowded from lunch all the way through closing time. As a bar manager, he couldn’t ask for anything better. Except, perhaps a cook.

  And more beer.

  The one thing that the bar manager heard over and over again was that they had a limited supply of beer. Brechal did what he could but many of the mercenaries that stopped in wanted beers, dark ones, chewy ones, strong ones. Beer and ale were their drinks of choice.

  Madrik had spoken to Emesh about his concerns just earlier in the day saying “I don’t know what to do about getting more beer. We need our own brewery, I think, and that’s not an easy thing to set up.”

  Emesh responded, “I am sure that the BHB is working on it. Sometimes you have to wait for the right person to come along. You just have to have faith.”

  Even though Madrik smiled and dipped his head in acknowledgment, a rebellious part of him said in the privacy of his own mind, I would prefer to have the beer.

  << <> >>

  The bar was really hopping this night. With an unusually animated clientele, the antics and activity kept Alastair extremely busy. Wynn was zooming around the room even more quickly to try to contribute to a humorous and calming atmosphere.

  Brechal was making drinks as fast as he could. He had his own group of admirers, ones that were obsessed with the use of his tentacles. These two women and a man routinely drank at the bar just so they could watch for those flashes when Brechal needed more than just his two hands. Madrik found it a little bit bizarre. After all, the tentacles would slip out above his waistband and act as another set of hands. Every time that happened part of his imagination went “Ewww!”

  Madrik felt on edge, and he could feel anticipation tightening over the companion bond. Starting to recognize the emotions that signaled a change, Madrik headed for the corner of the bar where Alastair leaned. Using the big man as a protective wall, he motioned to Brechal to join them. The bartender filled one last drink and slid it over to Wynn for delivery to the table before wiping his hand. Then he walked back over to talk to Madrik and Alastair.

  Their discussion drew no attention because it was something that the three of them did multiple times every day. Communication was an important part of having a good team, and Madrik wanted his bar team to be the best it could be.

  “What do you need, boss?” asked Brechal.

  Madrik said after a slight pause, “I feel like the tension is increasing.”

  “I’m not picking up anything from this crowd. They all seem pretty relaxed.”

  “I didn’t mean from the crowd, I meant from the BHB. It seems a little bit like when Cal came but different.”

  “In other words, you think that the BHB’s birthing another baby?”

  Alastair cut in with a comment, saying, “Maybe this time a couple of us should go outside and see if there are other signs that something is coming. We might be able to develop a better warning system if we knew what to watch.”

  Madrik was conscious of a feeling of pleasure and satisfaction. His team
really was coming together, and he had picked good people for it. None of that pride showed on his face as he answered, calmly, “That sounds like a great idea. Since the atmosphere is pretty quiet, Brechal can you and Wynn keep control here while we go out to look?”

  “Sure can. It would be worth it to have some better warning.”

  Madrik and Alastair’s simultaneous agreement closed their impromptu meeting and sent the bar manager and bouncer toward the exit.

  Scanning around the area, Madrik at first didn’t see anything different. There were no huge lightning bolts, no overt signs of a basic change in the fabric of the dimension. His thoughtful observation was interrupted by Alastair, who said, “Perhaps that map of yours shows something. Remember that when the library arrived the map changed from the spiral swirl to the outline of the building. Perhaps we can catch it in the act this time.”

  Madrik smacked himself upside the head with an open palm and quickly reached inside his jacket to the chest pocket in the lining. Touching the slightly crinkly material of the map, he carefully drew it out and smoothed it open with his hands.

  “Alastair, you’re right. Look here.” Madrik pointed with forefinger at what had been the newest spiral. In its place was an emerging outline of a building.

  Without any additional comment or discussion, Madrik and Alastair started down toward the area indicated on the map. As they got closer, they could see trembling in the chaos fog and a growing density of colored threads.

  Without warning, the threads came together into a tighter spiral, winding in a dense dance of chromatic mixing. The spiral was coalescing into a fiery disc of intense color. The increasing radiance of the disc took on a reddish gold hue before it suddenly splashed out an explosion of colored arrows spearing down into the area that had contained the swirling chaos fog.

  Slowly, the foggy area disappeared. There was no abrupt transition from fog to clear. Instead, the fog seemed to shred and thin, still swirling but increasing its speed of rotation until it looked like the building was sucking the chaos fog into it and spitting out a physical building.

  At first glance, the brewery was not very impressive. Constructed of wood and clad in worn unpainted siding, it blended in with the overall grey landscape from which it had emerged. Madrik could see that the unformed chaos fog had been pushed back away from the building by a considerable amount, especially behind the building. Wondering idly if the brewery contained other buildings or a courtyard, Madrik walked toward the brewery but stopped when a pulse from his companion reminded him of the map in his hand.

  With an exclamation of disgust, Madrik looked at the map. Alastair crowded close and leaned over, trying to see what the map now showed. The dim light of evening barely illuminated the map, although the outline of the Badger Hole bar and the library shown with a soft white glow that had nothing to with the surrounding illumination. The new brewery had a similar but still muted glow. Outlined on the parchment, Madrik could see that the brewery had several outbuildings and a courtyard that enclosed them. There were some strange markings that he would have to investigate further to understand, but the sprawled-out nature of the brewery told him quite a bit.

  Resuming his progress toward the brewery, Madrik was surprised when entrance lights and a yard light went on as they got a little closer. Alastair unconsciously positioned himself in a supporting guard position to Madrik’s left and slightly behind the bar manager. He suspected that Alastair was armed. There had been too many whispered consultations between the bouncer and various mercenaries for any other conclusion to hold weight.

  Madrik mused, There is something about how a man or woman moves when they’re armed that shows their increased confidence in their ability to survive. It’s trained into us when we join the military, the knowledge that being armed with the right weapon will help in a fight. We are drilled with it, tested with it, and live it. It’s not something that is easy to conceal from those that have been through the same thing.

  While Madrik had been lost in the passages of his own mind, he and Alastair had come up to the doorway of the brewery. There was no sign or shingle attached to the building, and Madrik hadn’t seen one on the grounds. That told him that whatever the brewery set up to do, it was on an arrangement basis rather than being a retail establishment. Since that fit into his objective for the town, it pleased him that he didn’t have to argue someone into changing their business model.

  Two figures stood against the light, waiting. Madrik decided to start the discussion.

  “Hello. My name is Madrik, and my companion is Alastair. Welcome to our growing town.”

  The figures in the doorway were two men, one appreciably older than the other. It was the older man that answered Madrik, saying “From your manner, you would be the dimension anchor in this incarnation.

  The older man was of good size, easily matching Madrik’s 6’2” height. Slightly stooped in the shoulders, the man had muscled arms that showed a day-to-day familiarity with the physical aspects of brewing. He looked like he had come from Earth, possibly from the north, with weathered fair skin and dark hair.

  The younger man beside him was very different. Showing the same muscular development as his older companion, the boy’s coloring was different, and the glance that Madrik had caught of his downturned eyes had shown glints of the rainbow.

  In the back of Madrik’s mind, his companion murmured, Power. The boy has power. Madrik agreed.

  The older man continued, saying, “My name is Rowan, and my son and journeyman is Cairn This, such as it is, is the Dirty Bucket Brewery, of which I am the brewmaster. We have continued to brew during the encapsulation and have a full stock for supply. How have you configured the main anchor at this time? Is it another Great Hall and Castle?”

  Madrik felt like he had been gut punched. Here was someone asking leading questions that told him so much, more than Emesh and the storyteller had communicated in days. Swallowing to combat his dry throat and mouth, Madrik said, “My vision when falling into this dimension was that I had landed in a bar. So that is what it has become. The anchor for the dimension is the Badger Hole Bar.”

  Rowan’s face cracked into a huge grin. He and the younger man exchanged pleased glances with an undertone of satisfaction. Turning back to Madrik, the older man continued, saying, “Now I thought that we had pushed brewing just to learn and to keep busy. It is nice to know that there will be someone who will drink all of the fruits of our labor.”

  The younger man leaned down to his father and whispered something in the older man’s ear. Nodding his head, Rowan invited Madrik and Alastair into the brewery. Suggesting that a more in-depth tour could wait until tomorrow, Rowan ushered them into a large room that was filled with the pleasant, thick smell of good beer. Cairn had just come into the room and was carrying a tray that had several bottles and small tasting steins arranged upon it.

  Madrik felt a smile growing on his face and knew that if he looked over at Alastair that an echoing expression would be there. The idea of tasting a new kind of beer was just what he needed, something to take the edge off his worry and stress.

  << <> >>

  Every beer was incredible. Flavorful and unique, they had different aromas and palettes, as well as beautifully clear colors. Madrik was thrilled. Alastair had not said anything specific, but his small moans and grunts of pleasure told the bar manager everything he needed to know. Even Rowan and Cairn could tell that the two from the BHB loved their beer. The four of them sat in relaxed comfort, perched on the tops of empty barrels and chatting idly.

  Madrik brought up something that had been bothering the living daylights out of him since he had come to the Badger Hole Bar and realized that it was an actual business. He asked Rowan, “How did the other incarnation of this dimension handle payment? What sort of currency was used?”

  “Why on earth would we get paid? The dimension is quite assertive about making sure that everybody gets what they need. We were supplied the ingredients for beer and
when we needed there was someone to create the barrels. Of course, there was some degree of gifting, but the Lord anchor for the dimension would do that if someone did extraordinary services to the dimension as a whole. Otherwise, the people and businesses in the dimension traded. Barter was the name of the game,” responded Rowan.

  Madrik shook his head in confusion, unable to wrap his head around the concept of currency not being the center of exchange. This was going to take some getting used to.

  The bar manager wondered how he was going to ask questions about the story behind the demise of the previous dimension and the whole thing of “encapsulation.” Torn between allowing the newcomers to get settled in and addressing his burning curiosity, Madrik was dithering when he felt a fiery flash of annoyance from his companion. If it had been actual heat, the intense blast would have melted the companion bond. It was an irritation like an itch that he couldn’t scratch, intensifying almost to the point where he wanted to rip his mental skin off. Losing track of whatever they have been talking about, Madrik shouted, “Trouble at the bar! I have to go. Alastair, I need you, but we also need beer at the bar.”

  Rowan immediately responded, “Go! We will load up a couple of cartfuls of beer and bring it up. Many times, you can calm a bar fight by the offer of free drinks.”

  As Alastair and the bar manager ran full tilt out of the brewery and back toward the bar, Madrik tossed over his shoulder, “Thanks!”

  The rejoinder, fading as the distance increased was a faint, “Go!”

  It took only a few minutes for Alastair and Madrik to return to the bar. In that time the BHB had continued to fire images over the companion bond. Madrik’s tension and concern continued to ratchet up when pictures included milling cattle pushing over a fence and a lion trainer holding a chair and whip. He was even more upset when the images alternated with pure outrage from the upset BHB.

  If Madrik had any doubts before that the BHB was sentient and capable of emotion and thought, his experiences in that two-minute run would have settled the issue once and for all. The BHB was outraged and angry. Something had happened that had touched off a fury in his sometimes humorous, always cheerful companion.