Black Rock at Bad Day I

BLACK ROCK AT BAD DAY

Chapter I

A tumbleweed briskly danced across the stranger’s path as his horse carried him slowly down the empty main street of town. It was hot and it was dusty and it was getting late, and he could tell by his glance up at the pale sienna haze overtaking the sapphire blue of the afternoon sky that a ‘good one’ was coming. He needed to find shelter someplace in this gods-forsaken hellhole of a one-horse town before nightfall, or before the storm that was gathering struck, whichever came first.

“Doesn’t look like anyone is home, Larry,” he said to the horse, rather absentmindedly. They had slowly come down the main street seeing nothing more than a couple of dried tumbleweeds and a dust devil or two swirling along the edge of the boardwalk running in front of the town’s little shops and stores.

“From the looks of this place, if I lived here, I wouldn’t be home either,” grumbled the horse in reply, keeping his eyes to the ground. “Who the (expletive) would name a town ‘Bad Day’, anyway? And, my name is Lilacor, thank you, not Larry.”

“Now, now, Larry,” the dark stranger admonished him. “Don’t get testy, and remember, you and I had a discussion about your ‘talking in public’, and what it would mean if strangers ever found out you were a talking horse. Plus, would you rather I call you ‘Lila’?” He chuckled.

“Yes… yes, I remember,” grumbled the horse indignantly. “It would be either off to the circus, or off to the glue factory.” He paused a moment. “I don’t know why the (expletive) I ever listened to you in the first place. I could still be in the cavalry kicking some major ass – and if not kicking it, at least biting it. I could be making a (expletive) difference, ya know. I’m a lean, mean, (expletive) killin’ machine,” Larry snorted as the stranger chuckled. “As for calling me that (expletive) mare’s name, you just better watch your own mouth, human. I can still throw you 20 feet without even blinking and you’ll be sitting on your dead ass on the dusty ground. Wanna try me? Wanna see?” Larry whinnied and shook his head throwing the dust collected in his mane up in the stranger’s face.

The stranger ignored the oblique threat and spat. He grabbed his black hat with the thin silver concha band and stopped it from being sucked into a sudden gust of wind. “Oh, yes, Larry, that general that you so thoroughly reamed out for being so stupid – what was it you called him? A (expletive) prick, among other things? Oh, yes, Larry, if I had just turned my back and walked away, you would be pulling chuck wagon duty with the mules right now, or worse, you would be in the chuck wagon. I don’t think your behavior was the Army’s idea of how one should treat a superior officer,” he chuckled.

“Superior, my ass. He WAS a (expletive) prick. If I could have gotten my right back hoof into him, I would have shown him who was ‘superior’. Or better yet, these solid chompers right in his groin would have given him something to write home to the Missus about.” Larry snorted twice. Once as an exclamation to his emphatic statement, and once because he is, afterall, a horse.

The dark stranger laughed. “Not to worry, Larry. That’s all in the past now. Right now we’ll find a nice livery stable for you and get you some oats and some decent shelter for the night. I myself, think I might be in the mood for a little game of cards and a bath and a nice steak dinner, followed by a nice piece of –“ Larry stopped abruptly giving the stranger an unexpected lurch. The stranger almost lost his seat. “Hey! What did you do that for!”

“You’re such an idiot,” Larry murmured. “We would have passed right by the joint with you dreaming about your nice piece of –“ The stranger pulled up sharply on the reigns and cut the horse’s final words.

“The Silver Dollar Coronet,” the stranger read the faded sign hanging loosely on the edge of the eaves that creaked with the wind. “Looks interesting. Think I will just go in and have a look around, Larry. I’ll just tie you to—“ The horse interrupted him

“No, dice, pal. A deal’s a deal. There’s a livery stable at the end of the street, and you’re gonna drop me for a nice bucket of oats and some mighty nice company with a nice little filly there,” he snorted and continued down the street at a slightly brisker pace in his own direction.

“How did you know?” the stranger asked.

“I gotta a nose, don’t I?” Larry smiled as he stopped in front of the big faded red barn at the far cross street. Another sign hung precariously over the open double doors. ‘Livery and Blacksmithy’, the sun-bleached and chipped paint barely read. The bottom of the sign had been sandblasted long ago, along with the proprietor’s name.

The stranger slid from his saddle and walked into the barn. “Anybody home?” he called. He immediately noticed two horses in stalls to the back. ‘Just Larry’s type,’ he snickered to himself as an old stoop-backed dwarf with chiseled features greeted him. It was obvious he not only owned the livery stable, but was also the blacksmith to whom the sign referred.

“Heh… what can I do fer ya?” he asked in a voice to match his gravelly face, immediately suspicious of the stranger.

“I need to put my horse up for the night, maybe two if that storm that’s brewing isn’t over by then,” the stranger smiled. “And, if you could check his shoes. I think he might have thrown a nail back a few miles. Don’t need his feet getting tender out on the trail.”

“Ya gotta pay in advance, ya know,” the little man grumbled as he wiped his perpetually black hands on his stained and burned leather apron. “A coin a day fer a stall and two buckets of oats. I kin look at his ‘ooves on the ‘morrow, iffin yer wantin’ me to.”

“That would be fine, and I will pay you for two days total whether I’m here the whole two days, or not. Would that be agreeable?” The stranger placed two coins in the little man’s calloused outstretched hand. “And, whatever work you do on the shoes, I will settle when I come to fetch him.”

“Aye, that would be agreeable,” he nodded, thinking the stranger wasn’t so bad after all as he wrapped his fingers around the shiny metal. “And, where might ye be stayin’, er.., what’d ya say yer name be?”

“Paris. Paris Chambers,” the stranger tipped his black hat. “And if the Silver Dollar Coronet has rooms, I think I will be staying there if something is available. Unless you have another recommendation.”

The old dwarf nodded. “They almost always ‘ave a room or two open. Just ask for one near the front. I got it on good authority that the back ones be leakin’ when it comes a sprinkle er two.”

“And do you think I could rustle up a decent meal there, also? And, maybe a little female companionship?” Chambers chuckled.

“Aye,” nodded Korgan and a smile spread ear to ear. “The food ain’t bad but it’s luke-warm compared to the women, or so I ‘ears. Meself, I’m a married man, and my Mazzy wouldn’t be none too ‘appy if I went to partake of the pleasures theys offers -- but I ‘ear tell from others.” He nodded again, then laughed heartily.

“Wives will do that, er…” The stranger also laughed.

“Korgan. Me name’s Korgan, and iffin ye be needin’ anythin’ else, you send one of them snot-nosed boys that works there on down ‘ere, Mr. Chambers, sir.”

“Thank you, Korgan, I will do that,” Chambers nodded appreciatively. “Now, let me get Larry.”

“Larry?” Korgan asked.

“Yes,” Chambers smiled. “My horse.”

“Your ‘orse is named ‘Larry’?” Korgan said in surprise. “Ain’t that kinda prissy for a ‘orse?”

“It’s a nickname,” he winked then whispered. “His given name is even worse. And I wouldn’t mention his name being prissy, Korgan. He’s a little sensitive about that.” Korgan nodded his understanding.

Chambers walked just outside the door and motioned to Larry. The horse complied and walked over to him. He began untying his bag-of-holding to take with him.

“Whatever you do, Larry,” he began while he was out of earshot of Korgan, “don’t make an ass of you or me while you are here, do you hear me? I don’t want to have to run down here and bail your tail out of the fire just when I’m in the middle of something ‘important’, if you get my meaning. I don’t want a recurrence of what happened at Trademeet Gulch, you understand?”

Larry whinnied. “Oh, yeah, you were just getting down to business with both of those little fillies at the same time, weren’t you. The blond and the redhead? Sorry, Paris. I really didn’t mean to spoil your fun, and I know how embarrassing it was running down main street with nothing on but your boots and your holster and Crom. Talk about protection!” Larry suddenly let loose with a horse laugh. One, because the recollection of Chambers was truly funny, and two, because, yes, he is a horse.

Chambers blushed uncontrollably. “That is precisely the type of thing I am hell-bent on avoiding. You screw up here, Larry, and I swear, it’s to the dog food factory with you. And, remember. No talking.”

“Just make sure he puts me in that stall next to the gray filly,” Larry murmured. “That’s all I ask. Just next to that luscious, in-heat, gray filly back there. She’s gonna love me. And when old Korgy is passed out from the whiskey he’s gonna buy with those coin, then it will be ‘come to Papa’ time.” Larry whinnied softly and struck at the dust with his front right hoof. “Just do this one thing for me, pal. And I promise I’ll be good. I’ll be so (expletive) good she won’t be able to stand it.” Chambers gritted his teeth and grimaced at him.

“Er, Korgan,” Chambers called over his shoulder, “Do you think you could put old Larry in that back stall next to the gray horse there. He gets a little lonesome not being around other horses, and he’s a pretty sociable fellow.”

“So that’s what you’re calling it these days – ‘sociability’,” Larry lightly whinnied again. “Hehehe… I’ll show you sociability. I’m gonna make that little filly’s tail stand on end before I’m done with her. She’ll be begging for more, I tell you.”

“Sure,” Korgan replied as he approached them, apparently not hearing Larry at all. “You just come along with ol’ Korgan, Larry. We’re gonna get ye fixed up ‘ere with some nice oats, a little fresh water for that dry gullet, get that saddle offin yer back and make ye feel at ‘ome.” The dwarf took the reins and began to lead Larry to the back of the barn, babbling all the way. Larry whipped his head around to Chambers and winked, a wide grin on his mouth.

Chambers threw his bag over his shoulder, shook his head, and headed down the dusty street back toward the Silver Dollar Coronet. The wind was starting to pick up a little more, he noticed. Yes, this was going to be a bad one when it finally hit. He could feel it.

He stood outside the swinging doors of the saloon looking into the darkened gloom. He could clearly hear many voices and the tinny sound of an old piano being played. He parted the doors and walked in. A quiet hush fell upon the crowd and the piano stopped abruptly.

“It’s okay,” he heard someone yell. “It ain’t Jonny the Kid.” The chatter and laughter immediately resumed, as did the bad piano. He began to brush the fine sand from his black pants and black shirt.

As his eyes adjusted to the dim light, he saw the place full of patrons engaged in all sorts of barroom activities. An effeminate young male with pale, greased back hair seemed engrossed in producing the grating out-of-tune sounds from the cheap piano while a bevy of scantily clad women hovered around the paying male patrons, encouraging them to buy them a drink, or just buy them. A few were dancing to the double-time song. Another group gathered around a card table where four men seemed engaged in a winner-take-all, high-stakes poker game. Chambers mentally marked the hefty pile of coin gracing the center of the green felt. He slowly walked to the long bar as he took it all in.

“What’ll ya have,” asked the barkeep as Chambers stepped up to the brass railing. He leaned on the bar and looked over the array of bottles stacked neatly on the back ledge.

“Whiskey. And leave the bottle,” Chambers replied. From where he stood he noticed he could see everyone and everything going on behind him reflected in the large mirror that covered the back of the bar. The barkeep delivered the bottle and a shot glass. He pulled the cork, filled up the little glass then set the bottle on the bar.

“Two coins, mister” he said. Chambers dropped the coins on the bar.

“Kind of expensive for whiskey, isn’t it?” he asked.

“I can take it back,” the barkeep shrugged. “Makes no difference to me. I got my orders, and until I know you, you pay two coin. Right now, you’re a stranger, stranger.”

“Name’s Chambers. Paris Chambers,” he introduced himself and stuck out his hand. The barkeep eyed it suspiciously then decided to accept it. He extended his chubby hand in return and nodded.

“Bernard. Name’s Bernard. I run this place here for Hendak. He’s the owner now since he shot and killed that no good son-of-a-bitch who use to own it.”

Chambers nodded and shook the big man’s hand. “Nice to meet you, Bernard.”

“Er.. the whiskey’s still 2 coin until you buy the next one,” he quickly explained.

“That’s okay, Bernard,” Chambers replied. “Say, do you have rooms here? I would be needing one for tonight and for tomorrow night. Something near the front?”

Bernard nodded. “You’re in luck. Just happened to have one with it’s own wash tub. I can have one of the boys fill it up for you if you just give me a little notice. Nice featherbed in that one, also. No fleas, either. Just did a spell to get rid of the little bastards. Them and the ticks, you know.”

“Sounds lovely,” Chambers shuddered slightly. “I’ll take it for two nights. How much?”

“Well, since you ain’t a stranger no more,” said Bernard scratching his bald head, “I suppose I could let it to you for 10 coin a night, including a daily tub of water. It’s mostly for the water. It being so scarce around these parts.”

“It’s a deal,” said Chambers and dropped 20 coin on the bar. “And, I’ll pay you in advance.”

“Thank you kindly. But no refunds, Chambers. Just in case, you know.”

“What do you mean, Bernard… ‘just in case’.”

“Just in case you get yourself killed in the meantime. No refunds for not using the room.” He scooped up the coin and turned to deposit it into the till. Chambers nodded and Bernard returned with the key and laid it on the bar. “Up the stairs, first door on the right. And lock your door when you go to bed tonight. Hendak keeps this place pretty safe, but there’s lots of thieves around. Can’t catch ‘em all, and a man can’t be too careful.” He took the old towel and continued to wipe the bar of the sticky residue left from the liquor he had served during the day.

“And, Bernard. What about the lovely ladies I see milling about?” Chambers turned to again peruse the landscape of long legs and near bare breasts.

“Oh… them?” He paused his chore. “Well, you would want to talk to Miss Viccy about them. She’s the one who manages most of them, so to speak. She owns the whorehouse across the street, but she sends her girls over here to rustle up customers. And, there are a few that aren’t associated with her at all. Free-lancers, I’d call them. If you find one you have a hankerin’ for, just ask her. She’ll tell you right off.”

“And the card game, Bernard?” It was Chambers’ main point of interest, but he did not want to appear too anxious. He watched the red-robed, bearded, dark haired man as he fastidiously clenched the cheroot in his teeth through the corner of his mouth, the smoke curling almost as fastidiously up into the hazy sunlight coming through the front window. He was staring intently at the five slightly fanned cards he held closely to his face.

“Yup. That’s Fast Eddie. Probably the best card player in these here parts. But they say that he cheats. Just no body has ever caught him red-handed yet. Oh, he’s been accused a few times over in the next county, but his accusers have never lived long enough to prove their accusations. Pretty fast with the spellcasting, or so I’ve heard. One of them Red Wizards, he is. He comes over here about once a month for a couple of days to play a few hands, and to see one of the ladies here. Heard tell he’s got himself a wife back home, but I guess he just can’t seem to get enough of the gamblin’ and women in his own town. Has his own circuit of cards and whores that he’s always traveling. Sort of a pompous, arrogant jackass, too, but he stays out of my hair and hasn’t caused any trouble yet. If he did, I would have to call in Sheriff Keldorn, or Deputy Delryn.”

“There’s a sheriff here?” Chambers asked, somewhat surprised that such a small town would have both a sheriff and a deputy.

“Yep, and a jail, too. Well, Sheriff Keldorn is really a part of the Radiant Rangers, so he acts as the Law for the town and the county. Deputy Delryn is just a young upstart who’s just now cuttin’ his teeth in so-called ‘law enforcement’.” Bernard chuckled and shook his head. “I doubt that Delryn could find his way out of a paper bag with a sharp pair of scissors, but maybe with time he’ll grow into the job. I just hope he does it before the Sheriff keels over dead, gets shot, or has to retire because he can’t get up on a horse no more.”

Chambers shook his head. “What else do you have in this little town?”

“Well, we have a new school. Don’t know what for, though. Only a handful of younguns here. I guess they was hoping it might bring in more settlers if we had a place to learn ‘em. Got a right pretty little schoolmarm, too. Miss Immy is her name. I’ve seen her at the mercantile a time or two. A little flighty for my taste, but seems pleasant enough. All that book learnin’…. Just don’t know if it’s all worth the trouble or not.

“And, then we have Miss Jaheira’s Boardin’ House down at the far end of town. She’s a poor widder-woman just ekin’ out a living since her husband was killed by Jonny the Kid a couple of years ago. She takes in boarders in her house, and she does washin’ for some of the uppity ladies here in town who are too good, or too lazy, to do their own. She’s a nice woman – half-elf, actually, and quite a ‘looker’, if you know what I mean. It’s awful sad, really. She’s just wasting away here all alone.

“Then, there’s Doc Aerie. She’s a full-on elf, but she’s a healer. Keeps to herself mostly. Won’t take coin, though when someone’s sick and she fixes ‘em up. Awful quiet, she is, though that might have more to do with her stuttering. You know… afraid to talk….afraid of being embarrassed and all and havin’ people make fun of her. Feel sorry for her, I do. Nice little woman, but a little skittish. Patched up my bum elbow when she first come to town. I tried to pay her, but she just said to bring her a couple of chickens and some vegetables. Rumor had it that Minsc, the rancher who owns that spread about five miles south of here is sort of sweet on her. He comes a callin’ on her pretty often, and I know it ain’t because he’s ailing. At least not in the way a patient needs a doctor, if you know what I mean.” He laughed and continued to wipe at an invisible spot on the bar.

“You mentioned the Mercantile,” Chambers said.

“That’s owned by Jan Jansen. A little gnome from up north. Moved himself and his family down here when he heard they were going to put a new caravan route through here. Thought he was gonna make his fortune here off the travelers comin’ through here, and that was five years ago. No caravan route yet. But it was like being invaded by a herd of locusts. All of a sudden, Jansens everywhere. You can’t get away from ‘em. You see a gnome in this town? Guaranteed it’s a Jansen.” He shook his head.

“Then we have our own import sittin’ at the piano,” he nodded toward the young man still plunking his way through some modern tune. “When Hendak took over the place, he decided that the animal fights had to go, but he wanted to bring in something a little more civilized, a little culture, he said, so he advertised in the Athkatla newspaper for a piano player and our flaming friend Haery showed up. He was the only one who showed up so he got the job. My guess was he was runnin’ from something, or someone. But he don’t bother no one and seems content to play and sing some of his home-made songs. Got a nasty habit of calling people bird names, though. Really strange. Calls the girls ‘little sparrow’, or ‘little raven’…. Things like that. They think he’s harmless enough, just weird.”

“Who is this Jonny the Kid? I heard someone call out his name when I came in the door,” Chambers asked as he poured himself another shot. “And, you said he killed Miss Jaheira’s husband?”

“Ah…..,” Bernard raised his eyebrows and shook his head. “He is one bad, bad buckaroo. A nasty hombre. And, yes, he killed her husband for no good reason. He’s one sadistic son-of-a-bitch. Loves to go ‘round killin’ just for the sake of killin’. How he gets his jollies, I guess. He wanders through town every few months. Sometimes he kills someone, sometimes he don’t. Seems he’s on the hunt for someone, but no body seems to rightly know who, or why. I feel sorry for the poor bastard once Jonny or his weird sister, Bodhi, find him. But there’s something this guy has got that they are willing to do anything to get and they just keep looking for him.”

Chambers nodded uneasily as someone came up to the bar a few feet away.

“Val,” Bernard nodded. “The usual?” The dark-skinned man nodded.

“Here,” said Chambers. “Have some of mine.” He set the bottle down in front of the man.

“Much obliged,” he nodded to Chambers as Bernard set him up a shot glass. He filled it then turned to him and offered his thanks again. He up-ended the glass in one gulp.

“Have another,” Chambers offered. “There’s more than enough.”

“Thank you, don’t mind if I do,” said the man and refilled the glass again. Again he emptied in the glass in one mouthful. Chambers could tell by the man’s accent he had not grown up around these parts. He obviously had had a formal education unlike the others in the saloon.

“Chambers’ the name,” he extended his hand. The dark-skinned man looked at him momentarily then hesitantly extended his own.

“Valygar. Corthala,” he added and shook Chambers’ hand. “New in town?”

“Just passing through. Thought I would get in out of the storm before all hell breaks loose,” he replied.

“Good idea. It’s starting to look really bad out there now. Going to cut loose and really start blowing here pretty soon. Thought I would come in out of the elements myself. And, Bernard, I asked Tyrl to close up your front doors for you. It’s going to start really blowing anytime.”

“Val is our ranger in these parts,” Bernard explained as he started polishing some glasses with the same dirty rag he used on the bar. “Damn fine one, too. Even if he does talk a little fancy once he’s been in the spirits a bit.” Bernard chuckled at his well-intentioned barb at his friend. Val smiled in return, showing no offense taken.

“Where you from, Chambers?” Val asked. “I haven’t seen you around these parts before.”

“Up north, originally. Just passing through now, heard the excitement, and thought, hell it’s better than being in the open desert for the next couple of days.” He sipped at his shot glass.

“Good idea,” Val nodded and poured himself another shot. This one he sipped. “It’s a harsh land out there on a good day. But on a bad day…” he shook his head.

“Say, you play cards, Val?” Chambers nodded toward the table where the Red Wizard sat, the cheroot still wafting smoke up into the dimmed sunlight. His fellow card players had been reduced by one. Apparently cleaned out, Chambers mused privately. Val turned around and looked at the table by the window.

“A little. But that dude has a reputation. If he doesn’t win, you die. Pretty high stakes for just a card game,” Val nodded.

“Well, I’m pretty good – and lucky – at cards. I was thinking of sitting in for a few hands, and I see there’s an opening,” Chambers grinned.

“How good are you with that thing, and how lucky are you at living?” Val nodded towards the ivory-handled six-shooter hanging from Chambers hip.

Chambers laughed. “Old Crom?” He patted the holster lovingly. “Dead on when taking on the bad guys. As for living? I have a lucky charm.” He winked. Val nodded then again glanced at the card game.

“Guess there’s no harm if we just mosey on over there and see what’s going on,” Val shrugged. Chambers picked up his bag, the half-empty whiskey bottle and glass and started towards the table. Valygar followed. They stopped at the edge of the table.

“This seat taken?” Chambers grinned ear to ear as soon as the hand finished and Fast Eddie began scooping his winnings toward him.

“You got coin?” Fast Eddie replied out the side of his mouth not holding the smoldering little cigar, “and a lot of it?” He stared at Chambers, sizing him up. ‘Another ignorant bastard just waiting for my skillful hand to relieve him of whatever coin he has left,’ he thought as he momentarily removed the cheroot and took a sip of his own whiskey. “Think you can handle the table stakes, friend?” Fast Eddie smiled and leaned back in his chair.

“Depends, friend,” Chambers replied. “What are they?”

“We’re playing five card draw, jacks or better to open, 10 coin ante, and a betting limit of 50 on a round.” He leaned toward Chambers and grinned. “Now, is that too rich for your blood, friend?”

“Oh, I can probably last a few hands, friend,” Chambers replied and took the seat without it being offered to him. A low round of whispers swept through the people gathered around the table.

“Eddie’s my name,” he said and extended a thin pale hand over the table to Chambers. “And this is Beeson on my left and Gordd on my right.”

“Chambers. Paris Chambers,” Chambers replied and shook the Red Wizard’s hand, then the others in turn.

“And, we do not play with our hat on, Chambers,” Fast Eddie said. “It’s… uncouth.” Chambers turned and glanced at Valygar who had taken up standing just back beside him. He nodded and held out his hand. Chambers removed his black hat, handed it to Valygar then automatically ran his fingers through his dark curly hair to tidy it. He opened up the bag and took three handfuls of coin of various denominations putting them on the table. He turned and handed the bag to Valygar with a wink. A buxom young woman on his other side filled his glass with whiskey from his bottle.

“Thank you kindly, miss,” he nodded and couldn’t help but notice how she voluptuously filled the top of her red satin corset, to the point of softly spilling out over its edges. She giggled, and jiggled simultaneously. ‘Not right now, Paris,’ he thought to himself. ‘Plenty of time for that later.’ He turned his attention to the three 10 coins sitting in the ‘pot’, awaiting his ante. He picked one up and tossed it in as Eddie shuffled the cards with expert precision. He offered the cut to Beeson who quickly did his duty. Fast Eddie dealt.

Chambers waited until all five lay face down in front of him before he picked them up in a single stack. He held them closely to his face as he slowly and carefully fanned them ever so slightly to see what the Red Wizard had given him. A pair of deuces, a pair of tens and a king. Two pair -- and not the best two pair at that. He hoped that someone else would open the round of bidding. Gordd did with 10. Chambers raised him 10, Beeson raised another 10, and Fast Eddie saw the bet then checked. Everyone squared with the pot and took their turn calling for cards. Gordd took two and didn’t look too terribly pleased with what Eddie had given him. Chambers threw in the king face down and called for one. Eddie slid it to him across the worn felt. Chambers slowly picked up the new card. A ten. If Fast Eddie did cheat, thought Chambers, he did it by suckering in the players by giving them a winning hand or two in the beginning. He had just dealt him a good hand – a full house, tens over deuces. The rounds of betting began. By the time the dust settled, Chambers had won the hand, beating Gordd’s three jacks, Beeson’s two pair, and Fast Eddie’s meager 7-high straight. He dragged his winnings into a pile in front of him and began to sort the coin into stacks of denominations.

This scene repeated itself again, and then again with the next two hands. Always with Chambers beating out the others by the scant margin of a slightly better hand. The third hand no one could open. The deal was back to Fast Eddie.

“What do you say we raise the stakes, friend,” smiled Eddie, “and give me a chance to win some of that back.” He nodded toward the pile of coin in front of Chambers. “Say… 20 to ante? And 100 limit on each round?” He unconsciously chewed on the end of the cheroot as he lifted the small glass of whiskey to his smiling lips.

“Fine by me,” Chambers smiled. Beeson and Gordd nodded reluctantly. The coins hit the center of the table in a ringing clatter. Fast Eddie dealt. Chambers picked up his cards.

Eight of diamonds, five of diamonds, seven of diamonds, ten of clubs, six of diamonds. ‘Hmmm….,’ thought Chambers. ‘A possible straight flush, open-end’. The betting ensued. Fast and furious, the first round went. Gordd then took three cards. It was now Chambers’ turn. “Four cards,” he said and bundled the diamonds into a neat stack to return to Fast Eddie’s pile of discards.

“Four cards, friend? Did I hear you correctly?” Eddie leaned toward him, arching an eyebrow.

“Yes. Four cards,” Chambers said and smiled. Eddie peeled off four cards with lightening precision and slid them across the green felt. Chambers picked them up one at a time. Queen of clubs, nine of clubs, eight of clubs, and finally, yes, the jack of clubs. He had an almost unbeatable hand. A queen-high, straight flush. Only a royal or a king-high straight flush could take him now. The second round of betting began. Beeson folded the second turn and left the table in disgust. Gordd followed suit in the third. It was just between Fast Eddie and Chambers.

“What do you say we make this interesting, Eddie,” Chambers leaned across the table then took a sip of whiskey that the bosomy saloon gal had just poured for him. “What if you bet all you have and I will match it. Winner takes all.” The challenge had been given.

Eddie scoffed as he looked at the gleaming pile of coin heaped in the middle of the table, imagining what it would look like ten times over. It would double his bank, he thought. He again looked at his cards. No way this desert rat of a drifter could beat this hand. No way at all. After all, he was the best poker player in ten counties! He smirked to himself. This poor bastard was just begging him to take his money, and he was going to very gleefully and happily accommodate him. Yes, he would do it and love every minute of taking the poor sap’s coin. He sat back silently gloating to himself as he chewed at the end of his cigar, looking over his opponent as he pretended he was deciding.

“All I have?” he smirked.

Chambers nodded.

“You could match 10,000 coin?” Eddie asked. The exorbitant amount sent a round of ‘ohs’ and ‘ahs’ sweeping through the gathered crowd, and then the saloon grew deathly quiet as all eyes turned to Chambers, awaiting his answer.

He nodded a second time, still smiling. “Yep.” More ‘ohs’ and ‘aws’ followed in a second round of murmurings.

“Alright,” Eddie smiled from ear to ear. “Since you are so persuasive, it’s a bet.” He nodded to his bodyguard behind him and the big burly half-orc set a bag of holding on the table. “There’s 10,000 gp in there, give or take a coin. Now, where’s yours?” He sneered with anticipation.

“Right here,” Chambers replied and motioned to Valygar to put the bag upon the table.

“How do I know you have that much in there,” Eddie nodded toward the bag.

“The same way I know you have that much, friend. Trust.” He smiled again. “But in case you don’t trust me that much, friend, then your bodyguard can verify I have 10,000 gp and I will have my friend Valygar do the same.”

Eddie thought about it for a moment, smiled and nodded. “Not necessary. I will take your word for it. And if you lose, and it isn’t there? Well, we’ll address that problem then, should it arise,” he openly sneered at Chambers, sure that the threat was not wasted on him.

Chambers nodded in agreement. “Then I call,” he said. The silence in the saloon was deafening as Eddie laid down his cards one by one.

“Read ‘em and weep,” he sneered. Chambers looked at the jack-high straight flush of hearts in front of the Red Wizard. The crowd rumbled with excitement as Eddie reached for Chamber’s bag.

“Not so fast, friend,” Chambers said and blocked his grasping fingers. “Rules say the game isn’t over until I show my hand, correct?” Still grinning, Eddie shrugged and sat back in his chair.

“Oh, by all means,” he said dryly. “Be my guest.” He pulled a mouth of cigar smoke from the cheroot and began to amuse himself by blowing smoke rings up into the sunlight. Chambers prepared to show his cards. Again, the crowd hushed in anticipation, as they watched the dark stranger lay one card down after another.

Eddie’s attention was suddenly drawn to the five cards in front of Chambers. His sneer evaporated as he stared blank-faced in shock at his opponent’s hand. He couldn’t quite comprehend what he was looking at. Then it sunk in – as unbelievable as it seemed, he had lost! The desert rat had beaten him with a queen-high straight flush of clubs! The dark, curly-haired son-of-a-bitch with the black eyes and disarmingly pearly smile had overcome all the odds and cleaned him out in one hand! And, it wasn’t suppose to happen that way! But how did he do it? Eddie had employed his lightening speed in the usual stacking of the deck, and no one had a clue he was dealing a few choice selections off the bottom into his own hand. It was business as usual to Eddie, and no one was ever the wiser. But how did this stranger get this by him? How did the rat bastard beat the Best??

Chambers returned his bag to Valygar and reached for Eddie’s bag.

“You cheated,” Eddie growled in a low tone and the crowd grew quiet once again. Chambers stopped in mid-motion.

“That’s a strong accusation, friend,” Chambers replied, the smile gone. “You have any proof to back that up?”

“You had to cheat to beat me,” snarled the Red Wizard. “It’s the only way anyone can beat me, you ignorant sand worm. I’m the best there is, and no one can beat me without cheating! It’s just not in the cards, friend.” He started to rise from his chair and the patrons who had crowded around the table quickly moved back, fearful of the fallout of whatever spell Eddie was thinking to cast on the man who had bested him.

Chambers slowly put his hand on the handle of Crom sitting in his holster. He hadn’t gone up against too many wizards but he knew Eddie was a fast spellcaster. He just didn’t know if he could draw the gun faster than Eddie could incant a spell. But he did know it was either going to be him, or it was going to be Eddie. He gazed intently at the wizard watching for the movement of the lips. Eddie reached to remove the cheroot.

“Don’t even think it, Eddie,” came a loud voice from behind Chambers. He didn’t recognize it but couldn’t afford to take his eyes off the wizard to turn and see from whom it came. “I saw the whole thing. He beat you fair and square. The pot’s his.” The voice spoke with great authority. Eddie’s glare turned to the man with the voice then returned his cheroot to the corner of his mouth. He sat down. Chambers could breathe again.

“Afternoon, Sheriff,” Eddie nodded, most hospitably. “I was just about to congratulate young Chambers here on a hand well-played.”

“Good, because if it had been anything more than that, Eddie, I would have had to shoot you, I’m afraid,” sighed Sheriff Keldorn. Chambers glanced to his side where he saw the man with the shiny symbol of Torm pinned to his leather vest. His gun was drawn and pointed toward the Red Wizard. Another, younger man stood by the Sheriff. Chambers assumed it was Deputy Delryn.

“Now, young man,” Keldorn nodded, “Pick up your winnings and count it well. If I’m not mistaken, Eddie owes you 10,000 gp plus what’s on the table. As for you, Eddie, I think you best be moving on for a few weeks. Let things cool off a bit, if you know what I mean.” He slowly holstered his gun.

“But Sheriff, there’s a horrific storm brewing,” the Red Wizard protested and threw up his arms dramatically. “You surely can’t be asking me and my friends to suffer such life-threatening conditions out on the open range, now can you? It would be most… inhumane.”

The Sheriff scratched at the sparse gray beard on his chin before he spoke. “I suppose you are right, Eddie. But you go on over to Miss Viccy’s with your lady friend there and wait it out. I’m sure you can find things other than cards to keep you busy over there until the storm breaks. Then I want you out of Bad Day, understand?”

“Yes, Sheriff, that is a wonderful idea,” Eddie said, trying to keep his mocking tone from his voice. “There are other places that I haven’t visited in a while that might make for a nice side trip since I apparently will have extra time in my schedule this trip.”

“Good choice, Eddie,” nodded the Sheriff. “Anywhere but here.”

“Well, then I guess I will bid you all a fond adieu!” He stood, momentarily removed his cigar and swilled the remainder of his shot glass. “Gentlemen? My Lady? Shall we retire across the street to more, shall we say, entertaining activities?” Eddie briefly brushed his red robe, held his head high and walked to Chambers’ side of the table.

“You haven’t seen the last of me, Chambers,” he smiled. “And, congratulations. Enjoy it while you can.” He nodded toward the bag still sitting untouched on the table. Eddie, his beautiful elfin mistress on his arm, his half-orc henchman, and one other nondescript male headed toward the double doors. They would wait out the storm across the street.

“Thank you, Sheriff,” breathed Chambers as he stood up. “I appreciate you showing up when you did. It was about to get contentious, I fear, not to mention downright bloody.”

The Sheriff chuckled. “I’ve been looking for a reason to run Fast Eddie out of town for a few years now. I just never had a legitimate excuse until now. It is I who should be thanking you.”

“Chambers. Paris Chambers’ the name,” he extended his hand and the Sheriff smiled and grasped it firmly.

“Keldorn. Sheriff Keldorn Firecam in these parts. And this is Deputy Delryn. Anomen Delryn.” Chambers shook the deputy’s hand. “And I see you have already made the acquaintance of our fine Ranger Valygar here.”

“Yes, we just met at the bar,” Chambers explained of his new friend. “What would you say to letting me buy you a drink in celebration, Sheriff. I know I could use one, and I certainly owe Val one here, too, at the least. You, too, Deputy.” Chambers said as he started to stuff the pile of coin from the pot into the bag he had just won.

“Well, I’m still on duty, but a little sarsaparilla to wet my whistle would be nice. We would be honored to join you,” he agreed. “It’s not every day we get to meet someone who can best Fast Eddie.” They all laughed and continued to talk as they returned to the bar.

Bernard met them. “Congratulations, Chambers. It’s not every day I get to see that jackass chewing on a little humble pie,” he chuckled.

“Thank you, Bernard,” he replied. “How about drinks on the house!” A unified cheer went up from the crowd and Haery began a lively tune on the piano.

Valygar leaned over to Chambers. “Chambers,” he began. “How did you do that? I saw your hand. Why the gods would you throw away such cards and risk such astronomical odds of drawing a straight flush to one remaining card in your hand?”

“First, Val, call me PC. All my friends do,” he smiled. “And I told you I am just lucky at cards.”

“Okay, PC, but lucky as in.. magic? Or is it you can just cheat better than Eddie?” he half-whispered.

“Nope. Neither, really,” he smiled and pulled a small object from his pocket. “This.” He laid it on the bar. Valygar looked at it and picked it up.

“It’s no more than a black rock, PC,” he said, puzzled and rubbed the round flat rock between his fingers then laid it back on the bar.

“Precisely. But it’s a good luck charm, of sorts. I had it with me when I went to live with my adoptive father, Gorion, in Candlekeep. He told me it was a family heirloom of sorts from my mother before she died. It was supposed to bring me luck, and it always has -- but especially with cards,” Chambers explained and grinned at his new friend. He picked up the stone and rubbed it between his fingers. “I call it ‘Reload’.”

He started to explain more but the saloon doors suddenly burst open. With the backlight of the sunlit street, he could see the lone shapely figure of a female, but dressed far more conservatively than any of the other ladies in residence. She was definitely out of place here and everyone stopped to stare.

“He’s here,” she shouted breathlessly. “Where’s Sheriff Keldorn?” She quickly spotted him next to Chambers and made a beeline to him. The beauty of the half-elf female instantly struck Chambers as she neared.

“Calm down, Miss Jaheira,” The Sheriff said soothingly. Without asking, she reached and took Chambers full shot glass and downed the whiskey in one gulp. Everyone blinked in surprise. “Who’s here, Miss Jaheira?” the Sheriff asked.

She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “Jonny. Jonny the Kid,” she replied hoarsely, a look of terror on her face.

To Be Continued....