Chapter 2

On the way over to the tavern it starts to rain again. Deep in the Dakota Woods the Tavern of Mishap lay. It is a haven for outlaws, surely forgotten men like Sorbo, and locals too far removed from civilized society. Not a night goes go by that a drunken brawl doesn’t lead to the owner, a monster of a man named Brako, throwing somebody out face first into the dirt and mud. By the time Lawson and Sorbo reach the tavern the wind has picked up and they are soaked through and through.

The Tavern of Mishap is a one floor rectangular shaped building that can hold about thirty people when packed. From the trees that were cut away to make the clearing for the tavern is the tavern made from those very same trees. As are all buildings this deep in the Dakota Woods, it is a log cabin design. However, unlike Sorbo’s cottage, this building has numerous openings for windows, the door hangs securely, and there is not a leak to be found.

As Lawson and Sorbo approach the tavern they can see the rising smoke from the chimney twist its way up until it disappears into the rain filled night skies. It is a full moon, though it is hidden behind the stormy clouds at the moment. The entrance into the tavern lies on the west wall. Sorbo opens it with a creak of its hinges. Lawson and Sorbo are wafted in the face by the smells of the fire, the oil lamps, too long unwashed bodies and alcohol.

“Ah, mother’s milk,” says Lawson, as they walk in.

As soon as they walk in all twenty patrons and the bartender turn their way. Once they recognize them as regulars they raise their drinks to them and go back to their individual conversations.

The counter covers almost the entire eastern wall. Behind it are the storeroom and a small kitchen where Brako manages to throw together a decent meal from time to time. On the north wall is the fireplace and on the south wall is a tiny raised platform, but until today Sorbo never knew what it was for. However, today there is a middle-aged chunky woman with red hair setting up her harp.

As they are standing there just inside the tavern Sorbo looks around with a menacing look in his eyes.

“Uh oh!” says Brako, the six foot six, three hundred stoneling, ex-outlaw owner of the tavern. He’s seen that look before.

He walks out from behind the bar from the south side of the counter and says something to the lady getting ready to play her music. She nods her head yes and smiles. Sorbo notices even though she is out of shape like he is, she is actually a little bit pretty.

“Hmm, this might turn out to be an interesting night yet.”

“Hello, gentlemen.”

“Hey, Brako.”

“How ya doin’ tonight, Sorbo?”

“Fine! Why you asking me?”

“Oh, you look like you have a familiar glint in your eye.”

Sorbo ignores the implication and says, “So looks like we’re going to have entertainment tonight. Who’s the woman?”

“My sister Harriet.”

“Your sister, huh!”

Ignoring the implication Brako then says to them, “Your guy’s bills are getting a little deep.”

Any time Brako mentions their tab it is because he has something that needs doing. “What’ya got for us, Brako?” says Lawson, in his thick sea accent.

Brako motions with his head for them to follow him over to a secluded corner on the north wall so they can talk in private. They sit down at a vacant table. “There might be a caravan of supplies heading from the kingdom of Darian to the coastal city of Brennan and if some things were to accidentally fall off it and find their way here I might see fit to clear the old tabs once again.”

Sorbo and Lawson look at each other and give that subtle nod that speaks volumes. As Brako is getting up to go help a customer, Sorbo throws out their cover story. “Okay, that sounds good. I have to go hunt me a deer any way so I’ll get you one too.”

Brako nods his head at the quick thinking of Sorbo and says, “I’ll bring your gentlemen’s bottle right over.”

“Excellent!”

Lawson and Sorbo start looking around the tavern and all they see is the same people drinking, arguing and gambling. The only new and interesting development is the new lady in town. “Come on,” says Sorbo, as he gets up. “Let’s get a table closer to the musician.”

“Uh oh!”

“What?”

“That’s Brako’s sister and I doubt if he will be willing to accept any nonsense from anybody. Anybody, Sorbo.”

“Yeah, Yeah! I’ll behave myself. Come on!” They walk over to the table closest to the girl harpist, but the table is occupied. “Move!” and that they do.

“Well, that’s something anyway.”

“What’s that, my old friend?”

“I no longer be seeing the fighting glint in your eyes. Now I see the horny glimmer in them.” Sorbo laughs.

Just then Brako comes over and stands between Sorbo and his efforts to get a good look at the musician. As he is putting down their bottle of rum he is giving Sorbo a stern look.

“What?”

“That’s my sister.”

“I know. I know.” Lawson just groans. As Brako is walking away, Sorbo turns to the girl and interrupts her preparations to begin playing. “Hi! My name is Sorbo.”

The middle-aged lady with the fiery hair looks over at Sorbo and notices right away that even though he is slightly out of shape he is still a good looking man. “Well hello, my name is Harriet.”

“So, Harriet, looks like you are going to bring some music to this lifeless place.”

“This lifeless place, as you say, is my brother’s.”

“Yes, I know. Brako and us go way back. So when do we get to hear this beautiful music?”

She looks at him a little longer before answering. “Give me a half hour and I should be set up.”

“Excellent, I can’t wait.” Then he gives her his most charming smile and turns back to Lawson and takes a swig of their bottle. “Lawson, I’m glad you talked me into coming. This could turn out to be an interesting night yet.”

“Uh oh,” says Lawson, under his breath. “This is not going to end well.”

About forty minutes later and well into their second bottle, Sorbo starts banging on the table. “I want music. Music. Music.”

Brako hurries over with a third bottle and sets it down with a little more force than necessary and gives Sorbo a hard look. “Come, Brako, my old friend.” Sorbo says with slurred speech. “I want your cute sister to entertain us.”

“Damn it, Sorbo! This is her first night here. Let her get set up and you better not make my sister feel uncomfortable in my own place.”

“No, I wasn’t doing that! Was I?” Then Sorbo looks over to Harriet and asks, “Excuse me, darling, but I wasn’t making you uncomfortable, was I? I meant no disrespect; I just can’t wait to hear your cute self play.”

“No, Sorbo, I’m a big girl. I’ll be ready in a second.”

“Nice harp, where did you get it?”

“Brako said it fell off the back of a wagon and even though he looked real hard for the owner he just couldn’t find them.” Sorbo and Lawson look at each other out of the corner of their eyes with knowing gleams.

“Well, it’s very nice, Harriet. How long have you been playing?”

“About three weeks now.”

“Uh oh!” says Lawson.

“What?” says Sorbo, looking at him annoyed.

“Nothing,” says Lawson, with his hands held out in placation.

At last Harriet is ready and she pulls her full length brown and white peasant style dress up past her knees and settles the harp in between her legs. Originally she was facing sideward toward the west wall, but at the last moment she turns the whole set up to where her open legs are facing right at Sorbo. Sorbo bends over a little to see how far he can see up her dress and Harriet is most accommodating as she spreads her legs apart a little further and smiles adoringly at Sorbo.

Quickly Sorbo glances over at the bar and Brako, and Brako is staring at him with no hint of a smile on his scarred face. Sorbo clears his throat and takes another drink from their bottle.

Even though everybody in the tavern is beyond drunk it only takes about ten minutes for everybody to realize that she can’t play the harp. The table next to Sorbo and Lawson’s start grumbling, but Sorbo turns to them and tells them, “Be quiet!” When he turns back around Harriet is giving him a smile that is beyond adorable and is speaking volumes of future fun.

Chapter 3 »