Chapter 7: This Ain't a Scene, It's an Arms Race

I am an arms dealer, fitting you with weapons in the form of words.

And, don't really care, which side wins; long as the room keeps singing, that's just the business I'm in, yeah.

As Amity pulled him through the packed streets, Smack marveled at the sheer number of beasts on the island. Everywhere he looked, beasts of all different species had packed into the streets, clustered on rooftops, and filled every last space with a view of the waterfront. All around them, whether crouching on railings, clinging to walls, or hovering overhead, a horde of the bat-creatures observed the proceedings with interest.

Smack had to stop marveling, though, when his snout connected with a low-hanging sign. He grunted in pain, but Amity showed no signs of slowing down, so he covered the bleeding snout and kept moving.

She led him to a rooftop near the waterfront, only a few paces away from the jetty that was the focus of everyone's interest. Out toward the end, at opposing sides of their stage, stood two rats glaring daggers at each other. Standing between them was one of the bat things, an abnormally tall one with lighter fur than the others that Smack had seen so far. He stood with arms crossed and eyes closed, striking an intimidating posture despite his unconcerned smirk. The two rats curled their fingers and rocked on their footpaws, as if tensely waiting for something to happen. Every once in a while, one would steal a side glance at the bat.

All around the dockside, the crowd muttered faintly. The music continued playing, a foreign tune conveyed by unfamiliar instruments. Smack could hear some sort of drums and cymbals forming the backbeat, but everything was layered over by what sounded like some sort of string instrument, judging by the faint sound of sliding between chords. This instrument, whatever it was, had a kind of growl to it, and sounded like something that would be shaking the floors if it weren't being played out in the open.

Somewhere behind him, Smack heard someone shout, "Get on with it, Scads!" The bat creature, whom Smack assumed to be this 'Scads', lowered his head slightly and grinned, showing a full set of interlocked teeth not at all dissimilar to a shark's. Amity took that as a cue, grabbed Smack's shirt from behind, and scrambled up onto his shoulders. "Better view," she explained.

Scads uncrossed his arms, and the ambient song died. He cleared his throat, then spoke in a resounding voice that reached Smack's ears as if he was only a few steps away. "Well then, if everyone's here that wants to be, let's get this party started!" At that, the music started up again; but this time, the foreign string instrument truly did shake the ground with its bass. The song also seemed much more organized, less like a warmup and crowd-gatherer, and more like an actual song. Then Scads began to sing.

Dear gods, this guy was sassy. The lyrics were at once rowdy and meaningful; and though Smack found himself unable to identify many of the words, he found himself nodding along with the beat. Scads paced around the left rat, as if inspecting him closely; all the while, he continued the lyrics without missing a beat. All around, the bats interspersed among the crowd provided a supplemental echo to various lyrics. In fact, the more Smack listened, the more it seemed like they might also be the ones causing the sound to carry so perfectly across the town. He couldn't think of any other explanation for the unearthly acoustics.

Smack realized that the two rats were no longer standing like they were ready for war. Instead, they had assumed postures that radiated with arrogant confidence. They watched each other with smirks on their muzzles, tapping along to the song and waiting for some sort of cue.

Scads moved into a sort of repetitive pre-chorus as he continued his inspection, then slid back into position between the two as he delivered the final line. Then he pointed to the left one, and began the chorus. Immediately, the instruments broke into a louder, more heated tune, as the drums started on a new, faster rhythm. Scads sang the same line twice, then let the song run without vocals from there.

As the chorus rolled in, Left Rat broke into a complicated dance of spins and rolls. Don't let that description fool you, though; this was no ballet, but a rigorous, full-body exertion that would leave any beast dizzy. He dropped to his handpaws, spinning his legs parallel to the ground while "stepping" over them with his arms. Then, he turned over into a crouch, kicked off the ground, and started spinning upside down, still doing the same stepping motion to preserve his momentum. His legs turned in an outward cone, as he rotated both perpendicular to the ground and around the middle of his own body. Then he tucked his arms in, and continued the same dual-axis rotation at ground level, supported only by his shoulders. Smack was starting to understand why the jetty had been polished so smoothly.

Finally, as the chorus ended and Scads held up a hand, the rat spun up to his feet, landing perfectly without so much as a slight tip to restabilize. Scads nodded approvingly as the next verse began, then turned to the right rat and began appraising her as well. As with the first verse, his lyrics continued flawlessly as he slowly paced around her. She stared intently at the other rat, mirroring his cocky grin with an equally smug expression of her own, and . Scads slid back into position, pointed to her, and began the chorus anew.

Right Rat had a different tactic to her dance. Instead of crazed spins and acrobatics, her moves focused on legwork predominantly. She half stepped, half slid around the jetty, as she executed a strange walk-in-place in perfect time with the beat. It seemed as though her paws weren't even touching the ground; her sliding movements were like she was walking on ice. Every so often, she actually did leave the ground, kicking off into a momentary angled spin, before dropping back into the same sliding dance with ease.

Scads held up his hand again, and she slid back into place with a grin across her muzzle. The song meandered through the bridge, then faded to the background as Scads stepped forward between the two dancers and held out his hands to the crowd. In a commanding voice, he stated, "All the boys who the dance floor didn't love, and all the girls whose lips couldn't move fast enough, sing, until your lungs give out!"

The bats around the island began chanting the statement that the pre-chorus had introduced; by the second repetition, the rest of the crowd had joined in the chorus. Smack's ears began to ring from Amity's passionate chanting; for such a small beast, she was far too loud to be allowed so close to his ears. The instrumentation built up, cascading around the chant; until that strange string instrument cut in with a steep slide down the octaves, and Scads gave the chorus one last go. This time, he motioned to both rats, who broke out into their respective styles. The dance was now quite physical; while no actual blows were exchanged, both rats played off of each other's moves in a battle of intimidation. Then, all at once, the song ended, both dancers returned to their spots, and the crowd began to cheer.

Scads held up Left Rat's paw, and shouted "Cecil Gold!" The crowd cheered wildly; whistles and hollers mixed together into a cacophony of encouragement. Scads nodded, then let go of Cecil's paw and stepped over to the other. Holding up her paw, he shouted, "'Crazy Legs' Agate!"

This time, the crowd went absolutely berserk. Whooping and jumping greeted the name of the Smack covered his ears and cringed in pain as Amity loudly voiced her opinion. "Yeah! Go, Crazy Legs!"

Scads nodded again, which was starting to seem like his thing. "Well then, it looks like we have a winner! By a narrow margin, your victor for today, 'Crazy Legs' Agate!" He motioned to her, and the crowd cheered again. Amity joined in with her vehemently raised voice; Smack, who hadn't expected the aural assault, doubled over in pain, accidentally bucking her off his back in the process. She yelped in surprise, and tumbled to the ground.

"Hey, what wazzat for?" she yelled indignantly.

"Sorry," Smack muttered, extending a paw to help her up.

She took it gratefully, and was on her feet in no time. "Ah, no harm done. Come on, let's get back to the Legionnaire."

"So, what was all that?" Smack inquired, once they had found a nice corner table.

"Well…" Amity took a sip from her mug, then set it down and bridged her fingers. "Let's start from the beginning. Some thirty, fourty seasons ago, those bat things just showed up on this island."

Smack nodded. "That much I've heard."

"Hold on, I'm not done yet. Anyway, they struck up a bargain with Gelida, that gave them freedom to run this tavern, and generally stay on the island. She's never been very specific about the details, but she's entitled to that secret, at least. Thing is, though, they've grown to be deeply ingrained into the system of the island. Ever notice how there's no policing, no guards? The bats take care of that. No one quite understands how, but they can pop up just about anywhere in absolute swarms, at the slightest sign of trouble.

"Naturally, this means that disputes and rivalries are harder to settle. Scads must have realized that, because within the first season here he had already started a more health-friendly competitive outlet for the residents: dance law. It's not actually law, but whatever. In dance law, competitors dance along to Scads' choice of song, whatever that might be. It's judged by crowd ruling; the one that is cheered the most is declared the winner."

"So that's why Crazy Legs won?"

Amity nodded. "One thing, though: Scads wasn't kidding about a narrow margin. The bats in the crowd are placed strategically, to determine exactly how many people are cheering. Volume alone ain't enough here; if more beasts are cheering at a lower volume, that's still significant in the ruling."

"Yeah, okay, that makes sense." Smack took a sip of cider. "So, I take it dancing is pretty important here?"

Amity laughed. "That's the understatement of a lifetime! 'Round here, though it's not strictly illegal, fighting is generally looked down on. That means that the only method for settling disputes is dance law. So, naturally, the beasts around here take it pretty seriously. There's dance-offs, dance clubs, stamina and style training groups; fur, there's even an entire underground dance competition, with tighter rules and fiercer judges. The entire culture of this island has shifted, simply because fighting just can't solve anything anymore."

"Wow."

Amity nodded emphatically. "I know, right? Outlaw the common system of dispute resolution, and satisfy the need for it by providing an alternate outlet reinforced by the involvement of the peacekeeping force. It's perfect!"

Smack leaned back into his chair. "Eesh, you sound like some kinda royalty. You're way too smart when you're sober."

"Me? Sober?" Amity chuckled. "Naw, kid, I'm at least buzzed right now."

"Not a kid," he muttered.

"At my age, everyone's a kid. Well, except Gelida, but she's ancient!"

"Wait, you're old?" Smack said, before realizing that probably sounded rude. "I mean, you look so young!"

Amity's ears flushed red. "You flatter me. Yes, I am in fact quite old. Maybe sometime I'll tell you how old." She winked, then climbed out of her chair. "Come on, let's see if we can catch Agate at her studio."

"...and Edgy just comes on out of the treeline, and hits him upside the face! And he goes flyin' across the camp, screechin' like a hawk! By this point, I'm thoroughly freaking out, so I dive into the nearest tent and knock out the support pole, and I'm just sitting there shivering in the dark-"

Charlemagne put up a hand to cut off Abzel's story. "Back up a bit. Who is 'Edgy'?"

"Oh, um. Heh. That would be the big headless guy on your shoulder."

"Yes, of course." Charlemagne repositioned the bulk on his shoulder, and cleared his throat. "It seems I have some explaining to do."

"Huh?"

"Ah… how do I put this? 'Edgy' was not responsible for the attack on your camp. I was."

Abzel stopped. "WHAT?!"

"Yes. I was en route back home from a business trip in the Far North. I saw your slaver ship, and decided to investigate."

"Wait, wait!" Abzel scrambled to catch up with the still-moving Charlemagne. "Why are you being so friendly now?"

"Because you are not my enemy. The only reason I fought the pirates at that time was that they stood against the slaves' release. They had chosen to be my enemies, and I am not exactly equipped for non-fatal warfare."

"But what about the weapons?"

"Hm?"

"You said you were just investigating, but you were carrying a giant box of swords on your back."

Charlemagne nodded. "Ah yes, that. I was returning home from a very successful trading mission. I provided my unique brand of services to an old friend, and he paid me with those weapons. It was my intent to smelt them down when I returned home, and use the iron for future, ehm, projects." Charlemagne looked back over his shoulder. "Which reminds me, I left most of those back at Redwall; I'll have to stop by there to recover them soon." He returned to looking forward, then motioned to the approaching cliff face. "Ah, here we are."

Welking's mouth dropped open. Abzel let out a low whistle. "Now that's a door."

Yes, Scads is singing the chapter title song. I considered adding in the lyrics, but thought against it. Here's hoping it works as is. For those who need some reference, Cecil is basically just breakdancing; Agate is doing some combination of shuffle and jumpstyle, with a little added flair.

EDIT: The batfolk have been here longer than 20 seasons. Specifics of Charlemagne's trading venture have been clarified in my mind, and the text is updated to match. Other minor fixes added as well.

Credit to Fall Out Boy for the song title.