David Bishop and the Mystic of Creation T.C. Crawford (icecream ebook reader txt) 📖

“It seems like he’s afraid of something. Did you hear what he said about the curfew?” she asked.

David looked back towards the counter to make sure they were alone before answering, “Yeah, he said that we broke the curfew, and that only brings trouble. Trouble from what, or who?” he asked.

Almost as if in response to his question, the door slung open and slammed hard against the wall, nearly knocking it off its hinges.

A group of six rough looking men came barging through the doorway, looking around the room until they found what they were looking for and started walking directly towards David and the others.

They stopped a few feet before their table and just stared silently before the one in the middle, apparently the leader of the bunch, grabbed a nearby chair and pulled it to their table before sitting down on it backwards.

The man had a large, round black hat on his head with a rim that extended far beyond the crown and had shown signs of weathering from years of use. He wore a long, dark leather coat that fell to his calves and matching leather boots with metal bottoms that clinked loudly as he tapped his feet slowly on the wooden floor.

“You must not be from around these parts.” he said, spitting a large chunk of brown saliva on the ground at their feet before continuing. “So, I’ll tell you just this once. We have a curfew in place, no one goes out after dark. Got it?” he said glaringly.

“A curfew?” asked Tyrius, staring blankly at the man, not at all threatened by his posse. “What on earth for?” he asked calmly.

“It ain’t your place to ask what our curfew is for,” said the man, “It’s only your place to adhere to it. If you don’t, you and your little friends here will suffer the consequences.”

“And what might those be?” asked Tyrius again.

“Imprisonment, the first time. And if you don’t learn from your mistakes and do it again, well…” he said, striking grins and chuckles from his posse before he continued, “let’s just say, you won’t get to make that mistake twice.” he finished, driving home the point by running his finger across his neck.

“I see…” said Tyrius, sharing a look with the others that showed his absolute annoyance with such an obvious bully.

It was clear to him that this goon and his followers were used to people cowering away in fear and getting exactly what they wanted. Tyrius was not one to be taken lightly, and certainly wasn’t going to be pushed around by some nobody.

“How about this.” said the man, looking around at the companions seated at the table. “I’ll let you off with a warning this time since you’re new and all. But if we find you roaming about these parts again after nightfall, we won’t be too nice about it.”

With that, the man stood up and kicked the chair over before walking over to the counter and banging until the old innkeeper came rushing out of his alcove.

It was clear he was even more of a nervous wreck than before.

“Yes, gentlemen. What ca-can I get for you, to-tonight?” he stammered, wringing his hands together nervously.

“You can start with speaking correctly, you ignorant buffoon!” shouted the ringleader, slapping the keeper on the side of his head and sending him falling over onto the counter.

Reingard and Holzer nearly jumped up from their seats in anger, ready to rush the man and his posse, but Tyrius quickly urged them against it, telling them to sit still and be quiet.

They both shared a look so hot it would melt iron, clearly unhappy with being held back from teaching these men a much-needed lesson.

“Then, you can get me and my boys some drinks, on the house.” continued the ringleader with a threatening glare.

The old innkeeper stumbled as he quickly rushed to the back to comply as ordered and the man and his posse slowly walked to a nearby table and sat down, waiting on their drinks.

David and the others watched from their table, wondering why on earth anyone would be treating that old man in such a way and how men like these had got along in these parts without being sent to prison for their behavior.

Reingard and Holzer’s knuckles were white they were gripping their mugs so hard, trying to contain their rage.

“What do you think their deal is?” asked Erin, looking at the men over her shoulder, trying to distract them.

“Beats me,” said David, catching the hint, “But if he smacks that old man again, I’m going to have to have a word with that one.” he said, anger rising in his chest too. Erin quickly kicked him in his shin beneath the table as if to say, “you’re not helping the situation any”, and sent a scathing look his way.

“David, as much as we would all like to knock some sense into that man, I’m afraid I have to advise you against it.” said Tyrius. “We don’t know anything about these men, or these parts, especially how many they may have in their ranks. We are in no position to confront them.” he said, looking sternly at David to make sure his point was clear.

“You’re right…it just really hits a nerve with me” said David, reminded of how Tony and Johnny would pick on him and the other orphans on their way home from school.

The old innkeeper came rushing out of his little room carrying a tray of several mugs for the posse, handing them out to each of them before rushing quickly back to his post.

The six men each grabbed their mugs and clashed them together before tilting them back and draining them in full. These men clearly had nothing better to do than sit around and drink while badgering anyone they came in contact with to get them to do their bidding.

Eventually, David and the others grew tired from their long journey and decided to