me?'
It was as if Eddinray asked the entire saloon this question, for every mouth shot answers at him.
'The chosen one sent to Hell for a great task! The greatest task!'
'A heavenly quesssst!' buzzed the bee in flight. 'To lead the great and good in the second battle! The chosen one!'
'Here in Breakneck!'
'A knight!'
'Eddinray! Touched by God himself!'
Part amused, part disturbed, I badgered an agitated-looking Kat for more information.
'A myth!' Harmony interrupted. 'The afterlife has its legends too, Daniel.'
She was right — one of them was leading me to the 9th Fortress.
'I am the chosen one!' announced Eddinray, pounding a fist on the bar top to shake the pints of lesser men. 'And I want everything what's coming to me! A bath for starters…with genuine soap!'
All of a sudden, the two saloon doors were flung open, and a substantial silhouette stood before the blazing glass-storm. Enthusiasm for Eddinray died an instant death for this new arrival, this authority awaiting all to acknowledge his attendance here. Once the man had absolute attention, he let doors swing shut and moseyed toward the bar.
He was a man, and hefty, the blubber begging to burst his belt and shirt buttons; he wore old leather from hat to boots and caressed a belt full of miniature knives. His face was crushed by overstuffed cheeks giving him a babyish and horribly unhealthy appearance. He strut with great wheezing breaths and rippling rolls of fat, but still the floorboards held. Surreptitious eyes watched his walk, and the distinctive musk of fear accompanied that of buttery sweat. 'Usual!' the obese stranger cragged at the barman, who was already hurrying for the order.
Only now did Eddinray appear dismayed by the loss of his crowd, the nervous barman meanwhile burned red as he poured a pint for his new customer. 'No trouble,” the barman whispered. 'Not today…Deadeye.'
'No trouble,” the greasy nosed man agreed. 'Just the drink.'
'And will you be paying today? I mean, you don't have to, but if you want to then…'
'I will pay,” answered Deadeye, revealing a watery pouch by his belt.
'Collected it this morning. Should cover the tab too.'
'Deadeye you ssstink!' hummed the bee in the ceiling. 'You won't run meee out! Deadeye ssstinks! Deadeye ssstinks!'
Oxygen in the saloon seemed to be sucked out of some unseen hole in space, and I watched many attempt to lurch unnoticed from Deadeye's radar, some even preferring to face the storm outside than the one brewing in here. Remaining expressionless to the bees insults, the stout man never once removed his eyes from his grimy pint glass. It was only when drinkers assumed a lenient Deadeye would ignore the bumblebees abuse that the fat man unleashed his darts, striking three knives with machine gun speed and pinpoint accuracy into the bees heart. Stunned customers held the drink in their gobs, and like a dying spitfire, the bee stuttered to crash land on a table.
'Charlie!' grieved the maggot. 'What did I tell you? What did I say?'
Deadeye gave a hint to one drinker, who promptly scurried to the still twitching bee, recovered all three knives from its body before returning them to Deadeye's belt. The bee then receded to that common speck of plasma, leaving a pair of weightless wings and a handful of prickly yellow hair.
'No trouble!' urged the barman. 'Hell this may be, but I run a joint free from the chaos outside! Free!'
Deadeye returned an accommodating squint, and another pint soon filled his chubby palm.
'Where was I?' pondered the knight. 'Oh yes — what's coming to me! Let's see!'
'Shut up Godwin!' whispered Harmony, from our table. “Shush!”
'Deadeye?' said Eddinray, clearing his throat. 'Never in my days have I heard such a preposterous name! If you are not the most ridiculous man here I will eat my own helmet!'
The tubby man wearily exhaled to this fresh threat beside him. 'What do you want?' he asked Eddinray. 'This better be damned good.'
'I want you to apologize to this bar, mister fat man! Your outrageous kill was an act of cowardice. When I am satisfied, if I am satisfied, I shall allow you leave with tail between your legs. Got it?'
'Eddinray?' I begged. 'Sit down! Do something Kat…'
Unfortunately, Kat was more than happy to watch events unfold; finally, the entertainer was entertaining him. Eddinray repeated his terms to Deadeye as that mammoth man gobbled down his latest drink. The entire saloon was now in restrained commotion, deformed mouths salivating at the possible face-off: Deadeye versus the chosen one — it was going to happen.
'If you wanna keep your body, English;' said Deadeye, burping and pushing his cup aside, 'you'll shut your mouth.'
'And you'll show me some respect you…, you…behemoth!'
Excited murmurings followed this exchange, all awaiting Deadeye's response.
'I'll give you a choice,' he then said to Eddinray, rubbing fingers over his little knives. 'Should I kill you with three knives…or one? You choose?'
Eddinray's eyes ballooned in his head. 'Everyone!' he announced, mortified. 'This blubbered whale has left me no choice but to act, and act I shall! It will not be a pleasant sight, thus I advise those with delicate dispositions to avert their pupils, or the nightmare I unleash will torment you forever!'
With my nagging finally grating Kat's ear, the samurai rolled his eyes and sighed. With great reluctance, with great, great reluctance, he then squeaked back his chair and went to the knight's rescue. Once at the bar, Kat forced himself between both fat and thin men, and was considerably shorter than both.
'Sit,” he ordered Eddinray, thinly.
'But samurai, this gargantuan garbage-man has off — '
'Sit!' Kat repeated, like a furious father at the end of his tether. 'Now…'
Deadeye wore a clever smirk as the barman slid a fresh pint under one of his chins.
'Come now Godwin.,” pleaded Harmony. 'No more of this!'
Glum faced, Eddinray listened then returned in a sulk to our table.
'Who are you?' Deadeye asked Kat, genuinely curious.
'I am Kat,” he answered back. 'Leave your drink fat-man, and get out of here.'
Deadeye's features had changed all of a sudden — eyes watering, his well-fed skin turning pale. He had no doubt heard of our small warrior, and with that knowledge in mind, he left his drink and the saloon as fast as his weight would allow. It was then Kat's turn to be surrounded by the stunned and sycophantic freaks of Breakneck.
'You make beer?' Kat asked the grateful barman, tasting a lick of Deadeye's abandoned pint.
'A version of it,” he replied. 'The boys pay me dreg that I use to trade souls who find what I need. Dreg gives relief from pain, and the drink relief from fear. Both are temporary here. So what can I get you…Kat?'
The samurai observed the storm outside, the doors upstairs, and our scored faces at the wonky table. 'Rooms,” he said. 'Get me rooms.'
28. Duel at Dawn
Eddinray closed the door as lightly as possible, the healing air already mending the cuts pervading his face. Basking in a lantern's warm glow Harmony Valour was already waiting for him, and she could not be any more beautiful.
'Daniel and Kat are sharing,” she said, placing her quiver, longbow and bandanna in the corner.
Their room was the bare minimum: four walls, one window and a bed covered in a scabby sheet. Outside that window a peaceful nights gloom hid the gruesome goings on, and for a little while at least, they could forget their time and place in it.
'Poor Danny,' huffed Eddinray, 'trapped in a room with the samurai. Better to be outside. How do you feel? The arm I mean?'
