A voice booms out over the Oval Court, causing the simultaneous swing of over a thousand heads in the general direction of its source…“Yo yo yo! This one’s going out to all you puppets out there. Taking the king’s coin in return for defending the Fayre!”…before a more specific description causes all eyes to focus specifically at a point high up on the bell tower. ”I’m up here by the way, coming to you from the belfry!”
The distraction is perfectly timed, for as the guards turn, Helmet, desperately trying to keep himself from screaming, finds himself hurtling across the library’s courtyard, his feet raising sparks from the ground as they’re dragged at high velocity across the cobblestones.
“Can you hear me Kera’Bur? This one’s new and it’s called FOX-FUR!”
Just as Hy-Jinx shouts out the title of her new song, Helmet, nearing the end of the line is pulled up slightly and slams with a crash into the wall located between the main doors and the balcony. Still nobody notices. Nor do they notice, with the exception of Hood, peering from the belfry’s railing above, as Helmet, stunned by the impact, slides down the wall, dropping by what must be about twenty feet, to land in a heap at the foot of the main entrance. Hood peers closer, his eyes narrowing first in concern and then momentarily in disbelief as what appears to be Helmet’s head falls off and rolls away from his body, as his body slowly and clumsily attempts to stand.
Hood likes magic, Hood likes logic, Hood put’s two and two together and can’t help himself from rasping out the word “Mechanicus!”, as he suddenly understands that strange feeling of uncertainty that has been eluding him every time he gives consideration to what he knows and has observed about Helmet.
As Hood is having this revelation, Hy-Jinx is continuing, holding the attention of the crowd who, at first simply shocked at the volume of her voice, are beginning to listen and respond to what she is actually saying: “Maybe it’ll blow your puny minds! But here it goes: Bu-bu-ba-du-bu-bu-du-du-du-du-du. Bu-bu-ba-du-bu-ba-do-oh yeah. Bu-bu-ba-du-bu-bu-du-du-du-du-du. Bu-bu-ba-du-bu-ba-do-oh yeah!”
She appears to be doing something rather unusual with her mouth, making an almost drumming sound, a rhythmic percussion which, having established thus, she turns and nods in the direction to where she thinks Dozer is. Dozer, not actually being there, still picks up on the cue and tries to imitate the sound that she’s producing, finding that it is actually quite enjoyable.
Having passed on the beat to Dozer who continues in the background, Hy-Jinx begins, her voice and Dozer’s sounding out across the expanse:
“Definitely evenin’
When I get this feelin’
Deep in the pit
In the centre of my stomach
Hy-Jinx, weaving and changing the rhythms within the verse, spinning around particular words to introduce or remove a beat, uses her arms and hands, which probably can’t be seen from this distance, to mirror and express this inner structure, making it seem that her whole body is speaking.
Somethin’ is the matter
Somethin’ gonna come up
Yeah, my guts ain’t lyin’
Barbarians are spyin’
Scoping out the city walls
Wonderin’ how to make ‘em fall
Barbarians are tryin’ to hide
Really want to get inside
The city
A pity
Want to loot and pillage
Why not raid a village?
Nah! they’ve raised their sights
Enticed by the city lights
Want a slice of Kera’bur
If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.
But they dressed in fox fur!
Dozer begins to understand and listens to the underlying structure, adjusting the beats as best he can in time with Hy-Jinx, picking up signals from within the words and doing his best to predict how things will change.
Should a come from down wind
But they’re not the clever kind
Soldiers on the parapets
Getting plenty toxic whiffs
Who these guys kiddin’?
A’ they really for winnin’?
A reputation that proceeds them
It’ll hinder an’ bleed ‘em
They can’t sneak on up
Cos you smell them a mile off
Camouflaged at dawn
Approachin’ with swords drawn
Making no clatter
Don’t even matter
The lyrics are clearly having an effect as the soldiers below recognise the narrative and the positive spotlighting of their place within it. The syncopated movement of the previous verses suddenly disappears as Hy-Jinx launches more forcefully into a more tuneful chorus, which she repeats, encouraging, with little success it may be said, the soldiers to join in.
For the smell of fox
That ain’t been cured
There ain’t no cure!
(Oh yeah!)
Everybody!
For the smell of fox
That ain’t been cured
There ain’t no cure!
(Oh yeah!)
To give Hy-Jinx her credit though, she has just unleashed an entirely new musical phenomena upon the troops of Kera’Bur, and the fact that they are still listening and many are nodding their heads, and twitching their feet, is testament to not only her skill but also the power of the musical form.
I grew up on the city streets
Learnt the traditional beats
Got myself a Mandolin
Tried to teach myself to sing
Sang on Lombard Street
Corner of Almbry
Got some coin to eat
Nice place to live and meet
Pulled up by my bootstraps
But gotta pay the city tax
I ain’ t got that kind of coin
Couldn’t stay on Lombard long
Chased me for two days straight
Hid out in the city grates
I just had to sit and laugh
Hung out with the alley cats
They just stretched
And ate the rats
Whilst this is happening Bembry, having shimmied up the bell’s mounting is hacking away at the ropes which secure the ‘Great Clanger’, his knife sawing backwards and forwards through the tough thick fibres.
Hood, on the other hand, is wondering what to do, the line is ready once more, Helmet having dropped from it, and if he is to get to the library he must go soon, but to do so would be to potentially cut Hy-Jinx’s performance short. And to be honest with himself he is genuinely fascinated and entertained by it.
So I copied them - lived mouth to hand
Taught me a lesson, made me understand
Live free of tyranny
Think this a community?
Them in the castle, ain’t worth the hassle!
They’re supposed to protect us
But they reject us
The first sign of worry
They withdraw - protect the money.
They ain’t in no haste
Don’t care ‘bout people
Treat us as waste,
As garbage
Disposable.
Question their authority -
It’s darn right implausible.
Why we acceptin’ rulers
When they nothin but abusers?
Surely we should all rise up and drag em through the streets.
See how they react when they got nothin’ to eat.
I’ll get a pitchfork
You bring the guillotine
We’ll go up the castle
Meet the king and queen
Expose them.
For who they are.
See their under garments - their colours true,
Marvel at how they wear fox fur too!
For the smell of fox
That ain’t been cured
There ain’t no cure!
(Oh yeah!)
Everybody!
For the smell of fox
That ain’t been cured
There ain’t no cure!
(Oh yeah1)