School of Rock

[Deadtail]

?Quiet!?

The word flew through the cave, colliding with distant stones and crashing to the floor with a thud. The Fritterik chattered onward, uncaring.

It would be nice to get them to practice under those circumstances, Deadtail supposed. When the Srechrrl attacked again, they would bring their drums to confuse the Fritterik. But how to get them under control long enough to follow orders?

He pulled out his sword, waving it in front of them. ?Shut yer traps.?

?Trap?? echoed Zhipzi.

The weasel had shown no interest in learning how to defend her community, and Deadtail was hardly going to force her to do so. It was a pity how quickly things had changed; the Fritterik grottoes had seemed utopian only because their inhabitants were too dumb to fight back. But as long as there was nothing better to do, he might as well try to change that.

Still, while Zhipzi could barely heave a rock, she was his most useful ally. ?Make them...not talk.?

?Iyi! Fritterik!? she seemingly complied. ?Chakan ihnih!?

?Chakan ihnih!? The message was repeated, rippling from the back of the small gathering to the front.

?Thanks,? he muttered, then walked to the front of the group. Waving them on with one paw, he walked across to the place where the rocks they had just thrown had landed. It was too short a trip.

Deadtail walked to the very last rock; he thought it had been thrown by another rat, but it was hard to tell. Picking it up, he held it high in the hope that the other Fritterik would wait for his instruction. That hope was dashed, as one keen weasel grabbed a rock and threw it in the opposite direction?where it hit an oncoming rat's footpaw.

?No!? Deadtail called, dropping his own rock. ?Zhipzi, tell them to put the rocks down.? He picked his up once more, only to exaggeratedly lower it again.

Whatever gibberish she spouted worked. Soon enough, the Fritterik were waiting for him once more.

He had never thought that he would be a teacher. The problem with most hordes he'd seen was not that the recruits knew too little, but rather that they believed too much. Their delusions, their dreams?those were what got them killed. He'd never stayed anywhere long enough to be surrounded by such incompetence.

No, not incompetence. Potential.

?Tell them to watch what I say, and listen, but don't do any of it yet.?

Another short wave of chatter spread, but there was no way of telling whether the message had gotten across until he actually began to speak. ?Now, when the Srechrrl come, you all need to...get together.? He spread his paws wide, then drew them closer.

Zhipzi translated to no effect; they already stood as a unit.

?If you threw a rock very far, go in back. If you didn't, get in front.?

As Zhipzi spoke, Deadtail walked from the back to the front of the group, miming powerful and weak throws respectively as he passed by. The lack of movement suggested that they weren't catching on, but maybe they'd wound up in reasonable places already.

He returned to the back. ?Now, when I say go, everyone in the back will throw. And the rest of you will wait...wait until you see rocks in front of you. Then throw.?

?Say just one thing,? Zhipzi hissed, ?it hard to talk.?

?Sorry. Everyone, when you see rocks in front of you, throw.?

He'd have to throw first. The good news for the Fritterik was that there were so few of them that nobody would be hit by his throw. It was also, of course, the bad news.

Nevertheless, he lobbed his rock over and then watched to see how dismally things went. A few in the front were hit, but by the time he saw them wince it was far too late to find out who'd thrown the responsible rocks and haul them to the front.

?Okay, everyone, go find your rock. The one you threw.? Practice enough times, and the best would wind up in the back in the long term. By the time everybeast had thrown, the Srechrrl would be that much closer to the weakest ranges.

Zhipzi's voice seemed different as she spoke; frustrated? Amused? Before Deadtail could talk to her, though, a young stoat had raced up to her and began muttering.

?All the rocks are rocks,? Zhipzi translated. ?What rock is his??

?One of the ones in front, I think,? Deadtail pointed. Somebeast so small couldn't throw very far. And if he happened to get hit, well, the Fritterik would be even worse off with him in the back and potentially hitting yet another beast.

The other Fritterik were similarly unsure where to go, but after volley after volley, most of them eventually realized that they were better off in back. The bigger ones outshoved the smaller, and some semblance of order was established.

Deadtail directed more than advised. Why hadn't he paid more attention to Rath in the caves below the waterfall? Perhaps it wouldn't have mattered?no matter how skillful he was, getting it through the Fritterik's skulls was something else again.

Once they seemed to lose focus, he decided that they were done for the day. ?Come back tomorrow, we'll try some more.?

They scattered, some proudly bearing their rocks with them as they departed. Zhipzi, however, remained behind?and so did her husband, Vakka-shin. ?I want,? he said, pointing at Deadtail's sword.

?No. It's too slow. Rocks are faster.?

Vakka-shin turned to Zhipzi, who spoke for him. ?You say. I talk for you, you help Vakka-shin know...swor'hrrd.?

Above ground, he would have laughed at her accent. There, however, the simplicity was almost endearing. ?Yes, but I was lyin'.?

?You stand.?

?I need to go eat.?

?You go eat, I don't talk for you next day.?

It was absurd! How could he be at her whims? ?Suit yerself.?

He strode off towards the dining area. It was no responsibility of his what happened to the Fritterik, if they didn't want him around. No, he was content to wait...

Until the tunnel to the outside was complete. Until then, he was at the mercy of his hosts?hosts that might not approve of a pledgebreaker.

Cursing his luck, he turned back to the weasels. ?Just a little bit.?

Vakka-shin grinned broadly. ?Thankyer.?

Perhaps he could distract the cook with vocabulary? Taking his sword out and gripping it with one paw, Deadtail pointed to the scabbard. ?Scabbard.?

Vakka-shin had no interest in vocabulary. He reached for the sword as Deadtail snatched it away.

?This is mine,? said Deadtail. ?You'll do as I say.?

?Give him,? Zhipzi ordered.

?Not until I can trust him with it.? Before he could think of any simpler way to phrase it, Zhipzi was rattling something off. It seemed to work; Vakka-shin stepped back and looked downward, meekly.

?Now give him.?

Warily, Deadtail approached and placed the hilt within Vakka-shin's paw while not removing his own. ?Try liftin' it up.?

Vakka-shin jerked the sword upward; Deadtail gripped it even more tightly. ?Good, like that. Now, if yer fightin' a Srechel??

?Srechrrl,? Zhipzi interrupted.

?Aye, one of them lot.? The name hardly mattered; the fangs did. Striking for the neck, though effective, might not be the safest choice. ?You go after the top of their chest.? Deadtail tapped Vakka-shin's. ?You put the sword, there.?

He had not thought Vakka-shin's glee could grow any more, but when it did, he realized his mistake. ?This is my sword, it stays with me. But if you see a spear lyin' around, you can pick it up. It works the same way.?

?Spear?? asked Vakka-shin.

?Aye, it's one of them...? Deadtail raised both paws to gesture, ineffectually outlining its size. ?Things the Skrechel, whatever, that they carry.?

Zhipzi attempted to relay the information to Vakka-shin, but he was not paying attention. With the weapon in his paws at last, he lunged in every direction, stabbing imaginary Srechrrl. There, dead ahead of him! And another to the left! And another, just behind Deadtail! The rat winced, staggering backward as the sword sliced through his stomach.

?Why, you?? he rasped. ?What'd you do that for??

?Sorry!? Zhipzi squeaked. ?You is guest, not Srechrrl. Vakka-shin no hurt.?

A hundred oaths raced through Deadtail's mind. None of them seemed necessary. Woozily, he sat down.

?Fight Srechrrl like that, yes?? Vakka-shin demanded.

?Aye.? Was the weasel still wearing that infernal grin? ?Aye, like that...?

By then food would indeed have been nice, but it would have to wait a few moments. Perhaps a bit of rest would do him some good, he decided. Relax for a while, then go eat. So convinced was he of his own competence, proven time and time again, and Vakka-shin's ineptitude, that there was not even time in the end for panic to grip his face before beating out one final retreat.