Once and Again
Chapter 2

Copyright© 2016 by Allan Kindred

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.

Lawson and Sorbo’s table is only about a foot from the stage and Harriet’s legs are another foot from the edge. Luckily it is a medium harp or it would have never fit on the small stage. Sorbo acts like he has dropped something so he can bend over in front of her to look up her dress. Once again she is accommodating and spreads her legs a little further apart. Sorbo forgetting himself reaches over and lifts her dress a little higher so more light can get in and he can see what he is missing.

Harriet doesn’t mind though, and even though her playing gets worse, if that is at all possible, she once again spreads her legs a little further apart for him. Just then there is a great roar from the bar. “That does it!” screams the six foot six, ex-outlaw Brako.

He comes flying over and grabs the very drunk Sorbo none-too-gently and starts dragging him outside. “Oh, come on, Brako. I like your sister.”

Brako kicks open the front door with his leg and throws Sorbo outside saying, “Get out and don’t come back.”

Sorbo goes tumbling out of the tavern and lands face first in the mud. He is lying there thinking that maybe he should get up when all of a sudden there is a bright flash of light. At first Sorbo has to close his eyes to stop the searing pain, but even though a great radiance remains it becomes bearable.

Sorbo looks up in the direction he sees the glow coming from and standing there is a beautiful woman all in white, with very long curly blonde hair. Sorbo lies there blinking his eyes over and over thinking he is having a hallucination.

That is until the hallucination talks to him. “Sir Knight, Sorbo Harper, the world calls upon you once more.”

Sorbo gets up with a groan not bothering to try and get the mud off his face and body. “I haven’t been a knight in a very long time, lady, and I am in no mood to be called upon unless you want to come back to my cottage with me.” He says with hopeful eyes looking at the very pretty and divine lady.

“No thanks, honored knight, I’ve seen your cottage.”

“Humph. Okay then, just leave me alone.”

“I’m afraid that is quite impossible. Something horrible has happened this stormy night and your services are needed once again.” She has a sweet, but commanding voice. She speaks as a regal woman would to her errant child.

“My services are needed once and again? Well, well, I’m sorry, but my services ended when I failed in my task.”

“That was not your fault.”

“What do you know about it, lady?”

“A lot actually.”

That knowledge does not placate Sorbo; it only puts him in a worse mood. “Leave me alone, lady. And why the hell are you glowing so brightly?”

“Because I am the light and my radiance diminishes your malice.” She says with a divine smile.

“Yeah, right. Ah, look, lady, did you want something from me because now I have to find a new place to drink?”

“You are now guardian of Princess Dakota.”

“What! Are you insane? I thought you said you knew about my past.”

“I do, and I still know that not to be your fault. But that is irrelevant because tragedy flows from this night.”

“Yeah, what tragedy is that, bright lady.”

“The Royal Family of Pralene have been betrayed and murdered.”

“What! Who? Why? Oh, never mind. Look that isn’t my concern any more. I’m sorry, really I am, but I can’t even take care of myself. It just isn’t my problem.”

“It is now,” says the shinning graceful lady. “Just take care of her and beware.”

“Take care of who, and beware what? Hey! Come back damn it. Oh well to hell with her, it isn’t my problem.”

“Hello,” says a timid little voice.

Sorbo looks at the fading apparition and a little eight-year-old blonde-hair blue-eyed girl with a long white nightgown on comes walking through the fading light of the shinning lady.

Sorbo blinks his eyes thinking he is seeing another ghost. He stares at the little girl standing barefoot in the rain and mud, shivering from the cold. “What are you?”

“I’m a little girl.”

“Okay, little girl, who are you?”

“I’m Princess Dakota Star of Pralene.”

“Well, Princess, won’t your mom and dad, the queen and king, be wondering where you are?”

Then soaking wet and pitiful the little girl starts to cry horribly. In between the sobs Sorbo thinks he hears her says, “They have been killed. My whole family is dead, mom and dad, my brother and sister. I am alone.”

“Well, look, little one, I am sorry, but that is not my problem.” And then Sorbo turns around and starts walking off. He hears the little girl crying and he turns back around to look at her. Her white nightgown is soaked and she is standing barefoot in a puddle of rising water and mud. She is shivering and looking very broken hearted. “Damn it! Well, come on, little girl.”

“My name is Dakota. What’s yours?”

“Well, Dakota, my name is Sorbo. Come let’s get you out of this rain.” They start walking and then Dakota yells out in pain as she steps on a rock. Sorbo looks down at her little hand that is now resting in his large hand and he sighs. “Well, come on.” And then he picks her up.

About five seconds later Dakota says, “You smell.”

Sorbo is getting ready to say a smart ass answer when he sets her down real fast and falls over onto his hands and knees and starts throwing up. The cute little eight-year-old girl with shoulder length curly blonde hair and blue eyes holds his medium length light brown hair out of the way so he doesn’t get sick on it too.

Finally, Sorbo staggers back to his feet and once again picks her up, but this time she endures his smells without saying anything further. By the time they make it back to his cottage the storm is really pouring. He sets her down in front of the door and shoves the door out of the way until it falls over into the mud.

“This is your place?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“No reason.” She quickly says, shaking her head while looking up at him with her adorable face.

“Hmm. Well, come on in. It isn’t much, but its home.” Sorbo immediately goes over to his favorite chair and plops down.

Dakota comes over and stands before him shivering. “I’m cold.”

Sorbo opens his blurry eyes and looks at her for a second. She is dripping wet. Sorbo wrestles his way out of his chair and pulls out a footlocker that is behind his chair. He hesitates a moment before opening it. Memories of old come flooding back and for a moment his eyes flood with tears. He angrily shakes his head and throws open the lid. He reaches in a pulls out a well-made long sleeve royal blue pullover shirt that was once part of his uniform when he was the most favored of the knights of the royal guard. Then he pulls out another blanket.

He stands back up and then sits back down in his chair. This time he stays forward hanging off the edge. He grabs the little princess around the waist and positions her in front of him. He pulls off her soaking wet nightgown and her eyes go big. He reaches over and grabs a nearby towel and dries her body and hair.

“Hands back up.” When she puts her hands up he pulls on his old uniform shirt so she can wear it as a nightgown. He takes the blanket he pulled out of the footlocker and wraps it securely around her. He picks her up and takes her over to his collapsed cot and lays her in it. He takes the blanket already there and puts that over her too. He goes back and falls into his chair trying to fight the spins from drinking too much.

As he is sitting there with his eyes closed, Dakota says to the night, “Thank you, Sorbo.”

He doesn’t say anything for the longest time and then he says, “Goodnight, Princess.” Of course he says it as one who is fully expecting to wake up from this very odd dream any moment.

Just before Sorbo passes out he opens his eyes and by a flash of lightning he can see that his roof is still leaking. He sighs mightily.

Chapter 3 »

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