The Sodality of the Song

By 

Darrin Coe

“Trouble coming,” Trystan said. He spoke louder than necessary but to no one in particular.

“What’s that you say?” Trex asked, looking over at the teenager.  

“Troublecoming, troublecoming, troublecoming.”  Trystan said, speaking faster and running the words together.

“Slow down, kiddo.  Did you say ‘trouble’s coming?”  Trex asked.

“Yep.”  Trystan turned his slanted eyes toward Trex and smiled.  The smile made his smaller nose crinkle.  “Coming through the front door, yep.  Best get ready, gonna be big, the trouble.”

“Crap.”  Trex finished wiping off the area of the bar he was cleaning and stepped around to the other side.  “You got that hurt feeling in your stomach again, kiddo?”

“Yep.” 

“How big is the hurt?”  

“Might need to sit down for a minute.”  Trystan said, wrapping his stomach with his shorter than typical arms.

“Go in the back until you feel better Trystan.  I’ll wait out here for the big trouble.”

“Okay boss.  You should tell Mal about the trouble; she’s frenetic.”

“Not quite the right use of that word, kiddo but good effort.  Mal’s busy dancing in the other room.  I’ll handle this myself.”  Trystan said.  “Now go on and lay down in the back there.”

Trex turned to give Trystan a stern look but the boy had already left the bar area and all he saw was the door to the back rooms and kitchen swinging back and forth.  “That kid moves far too quietly, gonna need to put a bell on him or something.”

Looking out across the main room at all of the patrons of his tavern, Trex smiled and thought, “Life is pretty solid here in Bifabad, old boy.  Low Places is doing well, Maloridia is amazing, and I don’t have to kill people for a living anymore.”  He walked over to a massive Ogre standing at the other end of the bar and said, “Trystan says there’s trouble coming.”

“Got it, boss.”  The Ogre walked over to three Orcs sitting at a table by the front door and bent over to whisper to them.  All three nodded and the Ogre walked back to his spot by the bar.  He looked down at Trex.  “Trouble will be no problem, boss.”  He smiled, showing off a very crooked grin filled with some seriously ugly teeth.

“Thanks Marcus.  Hit me up sometime about paying for you to get something done with those teeth.  Yikes.”  Trex said, making a faux scared face.

“But then how would I attract the ladies boss?”  Marcus grinned even wider and took a drink from the tankard on the bar next to him.  “This new batch of Orcinian Black is excellent.”

Trex heard a moan come from the back room.  He pulled his dagger and a small stone and started sharpening it.  “Any time now.”  He said to Marcus.

“Yep.”  Said Marcus and he made a gesture to the three Orcs.  They nodded in return.

The front door opened and in walked a rather foppish looking man with a violin case on his back, a flute case hanging from his belt, and a satchel hanging from his shoulder.  He wore a raspberry colored beret decorated with a feather on his head, a forest green colored tunic, multicolored leggings, and boots pointed at the toes.  His hair hung out from his head in a waterfall of strawberry, ending in curls at his lower back.  Many a head turned to look at the newcomer and giggles were numerous among the patrons.

The three Orcs moved to stand in front of the foppish man.  “Who be ya?” asked one of the Orcs who wore a red cap and black leather armor, with shorts swords dangling at each hip.

“I am Gannon O’Gannon, fo-fannon, ya crazy Orc,” He declared with a wave of his right hand.  “I have a new song to sing and babes to bag, so point me to the stage, Sir Redcap.”  He laughed and it sounded like bells tinkling.

“First you’ll need to be seeing the boss.”  Red cap said.  “Boys, escort our fair Mr. O’Gannon ta the bar, so’s he can have a bit of a chat with the boss.”

The two other Orcs grabbed the newcomer by the elbows and gently escorted him to where Trex stood at the bar.  Trex looked at Marcus and shrugged a rather confused look on his face.  “We’ve been expecting some trouble, sir, thus we need to know why you’ve decided to patronize Low Places?” Trex said, as he folded his arms over his chest.

O’Gannon looked down at the glowering and mildly intense four foot Terren and smiled.  “My good Terren, I’m but a wandering minstrel, a bard if you will.  A player of the violin and flute to bring merriment, melancholy, and motivation to patrons of fine taverns here and anon.  Besides, I’ve heard that Low Places is the most well behaved tavern in Bifabad.  A place I should think would welcome a new song and fresh entertainment.”  He removed his beret and bowed with a majestic flourish, then stood and replaced the beret on his head.

Trex looked at Marcus and Marcus shrugged his very large shoulders.  “Doesn’t seem like much trouble to me, boss.”

“Me neither,” Red cap said.  “We can handle this silly man three sheets to the wind and asleep.”

“Shut it.” Marcus said.

“Please,” O’Gannon said.  “I like to have a good time and help others have a good time, that is all.  I don’t like a rowdy bunch of over-aged adolescents getting crazy when I perform.  I have new material and decided Low Places would be the perfect place to play, sing, party, and perhaps a little more.

Trex sighed.  “I only offer daily contracts.  You cause problems and you’re out with extreme prejudice.  Payment is food, lodging, and two gold any day or evening you perform.  Any day you’re contracted you are obligated for the entire day and there should be minimal breaks between sets.  Your contract starts now fair O’Gannon.  Wow us with your new music.”

O’Gannon bowed and turned to walk to the stage area, at which point a female with flaming red-orange hair joined the group, bent down, and kissed Trex rather passionately for a moment before standing and adjusting her tight skirt and performance bra. 

“Ah, Mal.” Trex sighed as he looked up at the woman he deeply loved.  “Your set is done?”

“Done, done, done.” Mal growled.  “I had to cut it short.  Just as I was removing my top, some naughty orc jumped on stage and tried to tackle me.  I threw him off the stage and into the mirror behind the bar.  That mirror will need replacing.” She smiled a pouty smile and twirled a strand of her straight, sweat laden hair around her finger.

“Geez, Mal, you could have just had one of the boys manage the guy.  Marcus’s crew is the best.”

Mal grinned and picked up Trex by the front of his shirt and said, “I like to play rough once in a while too.  You boys get to have all the fun.”

“Ok, Ok, of course, you deserve all the fun you desire.”  Trex laughed and thought, “ what a life I’ve got with this woman.”  He leaned in for a deep kiss.  “Ok now put me down, you’re making me look bad.”  He shot a glance at Marcus and the orcs who were diligently studying the bar patrons or the door.

“So what’s up with Floppy-flop?”  Mal gestured with her chin in the direction of the stage.  “And why were you guys shakin’ him down?”

“Trystan had one of his stomach feelings and told me bad things were comin’.  He’s in the back resting.  Right after that, Flippy-flop walked in.”  Trex said.

“Doesn’t look like any trouble to me, unless you count his fashion.  What’s up with that hat?  Dang!!”  Mal said.  “I’m gonna check him out.”  She walked in amongst the tables and took a seat close to the stage and when the server walked by she ordered something.  

Trex smiled and walked to the back room where Trystan was lying down.  “How are ya kiddo?  You ready to get back to work?  There’s thirsty people out there waiting for their favorite bar keeper.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

Trystan rolled over to face him.  “Getting worse, boss.  Now my head hurts.”

“Nothing’s going on at the moment, kiddo.  Maybe you’re sick?”

“No, No, No. Not sick.  Hate sick.  Something bad.  Big bad like when mom and dad disappeared.”

“Well, what do we need to do, buddy?”

“Make it stop and keep track of Mal.  She gives good hugs.  Hugs help me calm down.”

“You want a hug from Mal?”

“No.  You, watch over Mal.”

“You want some whiskey or food or something?  I’ve never seen it this bad, bud.”

“Orcinian and some of my herbs might help, Trex.”  

“Got you covered, kiddo.”  Trex walked back out to the bar and drew a tankard of Orcinian Black, premium Orc brewed beer and pulled a small container out from under the bar.  He pinched some dark colored leaves from the container and crumbled them into dust, dropping them into the beer.  He took the tankard back to Trystan.  “Here ya go, my man.”

Trystan sat up with some effort and took the mug.  “Thanks Trex, you’re a good boss.  I love you.”  Then he drained the tankard in one go.

“I love you also, bud.”  Trex gave him a quick hug.  “Try to get some rest.  I’m going to keep an eye on Mal.”

“Ok,” Trystan said as he laid back down on his bed.

As Trex walked back into the main room, O’Gannon started playing his violin.  “Dang!! That fop is solid.”  Trex thought.  The music moved oddly, first slow, then slower, then fast.  Trex couldn’t seem to get a hold of the tempo and started feeling irritable. As the music progressed his palms started to sweat and he found himself clenching his jaw.  “What the heaven.”  He said to himself.  He looked over at Marcus.  The big Ogre was breathing heavy, almost panting, as he clenched and unclenched his hamhock sized hands.  The pupils of his eyes had dilated and he looked ready to fight.

Trex spotted Mal near the front and she had her knees up on her chair and she looked like she was trying to curl into a little ball and hide.  Just as he started to walk toward the stage an image of swords flashed in his mind bringing him to an abrupt halt.  He looked at O’Gannon and the bard seemed blurry as if his eyes were tearing.  “What the hell?”  He rubbed his eyes again as the music got louder and O’Gannon got more blurry.  The image of a sword descending toward his head flashed through his mind.  He looked around at the patrons and they all seemed to be rocking or holding themselves, some looked ready to fight and some seemed to be crying.

Abruptly, the music stopped.

“Well, that was weird and unhappy.”  Announced O’Gannon as he placed a sheet of music back into his shoulder satchel.  “We need something fit for a party.  Let’s get wild.”  He said and started playing another piece of music.  Quickly, people recovered and the atmosphere in the tavern returned to the party vibe it had held just before O’Gannon had started playing.  Soon couples were dancing and feet were tapping and the weirdness of the first song disappeared amid the alcohol, food, and friendship.  Mal jumped up and started twirling and dancing through the tables.  

“You got yourself a wild one,” said Marcus as he moved to stand closer to Trex.  “Don’t know why she stays with you, that one.  She’s seriously carefree.”

“You and me both, Marcus.”  Trex said, running a hand over his bald head.

Mal danced her way over to Trex and Marcus, grabbed the tankard from Marcus and took a massive drink, and then handed it back.  She paused for just a moment to catch her breath.  “That new bard, Floppy-flop, is damn good, but we have a serious problem.”  Her face morphed into seriousness.  There is no magic right now but the amount of magic in the first song was more than I’ve experienced in a long, long time.  Serious, Raggamuffin level crap.”

“Was it the song or the bard?”  Trex asked.

‘The magic flowed from the song, not the dude.  He’s good but not that good.”  Mal said.

“How do you know about all this magic stuff?” Marcus asked.

“Less than stellar experiences from a past life that I’d like to forget.”  Mal said.  She laid a hand on his meaty forearm and smiled. Her tone softened. “Maybe when we’re both monstrously drunk and it’s only the three of us, I’ll share with the two of you.”

“It’s all fine, Mal.  You ain’t gotta share anything.  I was just curious.”  He shot a glance at Trex who just shrugged his shoulders and said, “I’ve learned to accept and not ask.”

Mal turned and lifted him into a massive hug with a chaste kiss on the lips.  “Which is why you’ll never be rid of me, ya beat up old mercenary.”  She put him back down and walked into another large room off to the left of the bar.  “I need to prep for my next set in twenty minutes.”  She said over her shoulder.  “Time to dance the night away.”  She laughed with lust.

A number of patrons noticed her walking into the next room; both men and women of various races followed her.

“She’s going to make some serious coin tonight.”  Trex thought and smiled to himself.  “But she’s all mine.”

“Are we going to do anything about bard-boy?”  Marcus asked. He gestured with his chin toward the stage. 

“I’ll keep an eye on him and chat with him on one of his breaks.” Trex said, bobbing his head and keeping time to the rather lively music.

“Works for me, boss.”  Marcus walked back to his spot at the corner of the bar where he could see into both rooms.

“Can I get you something?”

“Yes, Trystan.  Pour me a Glen Fingal four fingers deep and don’t let it get any lower than two fingers until I tell you to.”  Trex smiled.  “I assume you’re feeling better, buddy.”

“Beer and herbs, nap.  Feeling better and ready to alcoholize all the people.”  Trystan said, and then laughed a giggling chuckle.

“Dude, you are awesome.”  Trex replied.  “Letting you live here was one of the best decisions I’ve ever made.”

“Why?” Asked Trystan.

“Because you brighten every day and keep the patrons happy.”

“Sometimes they think I’m stupid and annoy me.”  Trystan said.

“Come on now, we take care of them types quick.”  Trex turned to look at Trystan.  “You are an awesome dude, everyone here’s got your back buddy.  Always remember that.”  

Trystan nodded but didn’t smile.  

“Right?  You know we got your back.  Me, Marcus, the crew, Mal.  Almost everyone in this place.  Right?”

“Yeah, I know.”  Trystan said.  “Still hurts when people trash on me or when I make mistakes or when my memory isn’t so good.”

“I know buddy, I know.  We still have your back and you’ve always got a place here.  Now have another beer and get back to work.”  After another 20 minutes passed, O’Gannon finished his first set.  He made his way to the bar and bellied up next to Trex.  

“What drink can I pour for you Mr. Singer?”  Asked Trystan.

“kaffe’ and water, me boyo, kaffe’ and water.”  O’Gannon responded.

“You want those in one glass or separate glasses, sir?”

O’Gannon laughed and said, “Two glasses, Sir Barkeep and thank you much for your wit.”  He tossed a cold coin onto the bar.  “For your service.”  He turned to face Trex.  “So, what do you think of my performance, my dour Terren? Have I earned a contract for tomorrow?”

Trystan handed O’Gannon a cup of kaffe’ and a tankard of water, and then went to help other patrons.  “You play quite well, very solid.  I believe your contract is secure, for the moment, but we must discuss the first song with which you blessed Low Places.”

“Yes!  Did you not love it?”  He clapped his hands together multiple times and squealed.  “I just acquired it.  The song is called ‘To Move to Fear’. I found it in the archives of an old book and scroll shop.  The shop owner had no memory of the piece and sold it to me for a pittance.  It plays wonderfully on the flute and the violin.”

“Don’t ever play it here again.”  Trex said.  “There is a deep magic attached to it and I did not have a positive experience as you played your new song.”

O’Gannon turned his head toward Trex with eyes wide and mouth agape.  “What are you saying?  I’ve never felt magic in that song, at least no more than any other song played at an excellent level.  Why do you believe the song contains harmful magic?”

My girlfriend, Mal is a trained singer, dancer, and magic user and she felt almost overwhelmed with the magic contained in the song.  It caused visions, anxiety, irritability, and aggression among my patrons.”

“Good Sir Terren, this can’t be possible.  I would never play or sing anything harmful to my audience.”

“Well, it was not a happy listening experience so never play that song here ever again; do that and we will be on good terms.”

O’Gannon stood, removed his beret and with a gallant flourish bowed to Trex.  “I apologize for any harm or negativity I’ve caused you or your patrons.  I will never play that song on these grounds again, ever.  Please forgive me.”  O’Gannon returned to his seat with tears in his eyes.

Trystan slapped him on the back.  “Cheer up singer man, we do a lot of forgiving around here.”  Then he offered him a small hand rolled cigarette.  “Herbs always make me feel happy so smoke on singer dude.”  Trystan laughed as if he’d just made a great joke and then went back to wiping down the bar and serving drinks.

“He’s right, my foppish bard of great talent.  We do a lot of forgiving around here so wipe your tears, lift your head, and go make my patrons enjoy the party.”  Trex put a hand on the man’s shoulder and gave him a hearty smile.  “Oh, I wouldn’t smoke that cig until you’re done playing, Trystan tends to go hard with the herbs on account of having fairly high levels of pain from time to time.”

O’Gannon looked down at the four foot Terren and said,  “Thanks Trex”, and then walked back to the stage to begin his next set.  The crowd cheered and started shouting out requests.  He opened the with a tawdry dance number called, “For the Autumn She Does Blow”.  Many of the patrons jumped to their feet and began dancing.  Trex smiled as he watched, then after a time wandered into the other room to see how Mal fared in her dance set.