Freiyon Fables: The Rochester Runes

Chapter Chapter Eight: Robert and the Tribe-Rats



“But what about the otters? The Staring Soldier? Those water creatures? Didn’t any of that prove that this is actually happening?” Sarah joined in the argument.

“The whole transforming into an otter deal was either part of their plan or just a wacky dream of ours. The Staring Soldier is probably the same along with those water creatures. Look, I don’t know HOW to explain what’s going on here, but what I DO know is that I hurt my leg, badly, and after that I was probably given crazy drugs by the ambulance and this is all just some crazy dream I’ve thought up.”

Charles and Sarah moaned in annoyance.

“You’re impossible, you know?” Charles growled.

“I’m not impossible; I just like SOLID proof before I can believe anything.”

Sarah flicked out an arrow and swung it in Robert’s face, set on her bow.

“Take a good look around, Robert. We are NOT in our world anymore! I took time to believe it as well, so did Charles. But if you don’t shut up and continue with us, I’m gonna shoot your foot again and this time we WON’T help you.”

Robert snorted. “You wouldn’t shoot your own brother, Sarah.”

Sarah pointed her bow down. “Try me.”

Charles stepped between them. “Guys, we shouldn’t be doing this. We do this, the curse and the enemy gets to us. Now, Robert, can I just offer one piece of advice? SHUT UP! We believe what we see, it’s about time you do too. I know all of this is hard for you, but if you stick with us like an older brother should, we’ll get home safely and everything should be ok.”

“Well, that’s what I want. To have all this over and done with.”

“Right! And the only solution is to collect these rune stones that, if this IS a dream, which it quite wildly but possibly could be, are our only hope of getting OUT of the dream.”

Robert sighed. “I’ll go with that, but only because I’m your older brother and I am entitled to take care of you.” He turned and walked forward three steps before he was suddenly flung into the air.

“ROBERT!” Charles and Sarah shouted.

Sarah sighed. “So much for him taking care of us, now we have to save ... HHHHEEEEELLPPP!!!” Sarah was flung up by a rope as well, closely followed by Charles.

They were all hanging from ropes, tied to a tall, non-living tree. Sarah groaned in annoyance and said what was on ALL of their minds.

“What’s going on NOW??”

The answer came when a tribe of weirdly dressed rats, bigger than they would be in the human world, jumped into the clearing waving spears and daggers in the kids’ faces. The rats were dressed like forest medicine men, with the whole feathers, paint, chalk and drums added to it. They started hopping and chanting, forming a small circle around the tree that the kids were hanging from.

“You know, this would be a lot more interesting and cool if we weren’t hanging upside-down.” Robert complained.

The rats hummed a chant, and while they were doing that they made an opening in the circle.

“Hoof rat, Hoof Rat, Hoof Rat!” They chanted in a very unique language.

“Hey, I recognise that language!” Robert announced.

Charles and Sarah turned in surprise. “You do?!?”

“Wat beteken die hoof rat van plan is om te doen met ons?” Robert asked in the rat language.

“Die hoof rat sal jy oortreders aan die verwoester bied” One of the rats replied, licking its’ lips.

“Oh, that isn’t good!” Robert mumbled.

“What are they saying?” Sarah asked.

“It’s Afrikaans, with a ‘K’. Old version of it too I would guess. Hoof Rat is meant to mean chief rat. I asked them what the chief wanted. I didn’t get a good reply.”

“Don’t tell me. They’re going to eat us.” Sarah rolled her eyes in annoyance.

“Worse, apparently. The circle those rats are making is a calling for the mighty ... err; I’m not sure what they call it in our language. But in their language they called it verwoester, which I believe means destructor. The chief rat is meant to lead the ceremony and give us, the oortreders or basically trespassers, to the verwoester as an offering.”

“Ask them what we did wrong to deserve this.” Sarah complained.

“We’re trespassers on their land. Obviously they don’t take kindly to trespassers.” Robert replied.

“Robert, since when did you know how to speak African?” Charles asked.

“It pays well when you have internet friends who speak it and are teaching me it.”

“Stilte, clan. Wil jy vir my om hierdie oortreders te neem as offers aan die destructor? Maar nee, die eerste wat ons moet hul name en maatskappy toe te eis!!” The rat chief announced, stepping into the circle and pointing at the kids.

“Ooohhh, boy, that one did a mouth-full. Basically he said to them ‘Silence, clan. Do you wish for me to take these trespassers as offerings to the destructor? But not so, first we must demand their names and business here’ If you guys want, I’ll just tell them who we are, nothing more.”

Before Charles or Sarah could reply, a rat pointed at Robert and chanted excitedly. “Hy praat Afrikaanse!! Hy praat Afrikaanse!!”

“Let me guess, he’s saying you know how to speak African, Robert.” Sarah said bluntly.

“Yes, actually. Oh, they’re ... cutting me loo ... OOOFFF! Ok, THAT hurt!”

Robert rubbed his head but was forced against the tree by the same rat that cut him loose.

“Wat is jou naam, menslike??”

“Ek is Robert, dit is my suster Sarah en my broer Charles. Ons is ’n baie hegte familie.”

“What are you saying?” Charles called.

“Please, Charles. It’s hard enough to listen to one weird language.” Robert chuckled slightly.

“Robert!” Sarah cried angrily.

“I just told him our names and that we were a family. A CLOSE family, I might add.”

“Why’d you add that?”

“Because in some African places, a family can mean a tribe, but a close family is when you are actually related to each other.”

“Wat is jou besigheid hier, Robert?”

“Ek probeer om te help my familie kry terug by die huis om ons clan! Ugh, I’m getting tongue-tied. He asked what my business here was, and I told him that I was helping you get back home. Ons bedoel die hoof en julle almal niks besonders en ons hoop jy kan ons nie bied om die destructor! Oh, MAN this is hard! I think I’m losing my English language doing this. I just said we mean the chief no harm and that if it pleases him he can cancel destructor eating us.”

“You’re doing great, Robert, keep it up,” Sarah encouraged, but turning to Charles she whispered. “We are SO dead!”

At that point, the weight from the rune stones in Charles’ bag caused it to rip and one of the stones to fall to the ground next to Robert.

“Charles! That almost ...”

“’N Tweede destructor! ’N Tweede destructor!”

Robert grabbed the rune stone from the ground before the rats could seize it, trying to figure out what was going on. “Second destructor? The ‘destructor’ is a RUNE STONE? Hmm ... Maybe they will allow us to look at their destructor. I’ll tell them that you command and keep this destructor, and that you insist on seeing their destructor. My broer Charles beheer hierdie destructor en hy dring aan op te sien hoe jou destructor nou!”

The rat chief turned and pointed at Charles. “Is dit waar, menslike Charles?”

“Charles, nod and quickly! Don’t say anything, just nod!”

Charles nodded and watched as the chief turned away. “What did he ask?”

“He asked if it was true. That’s why I wanted you to nod. If they saw you confused, they would kill us!”

The group of rats started chanting ‘Destructor’, getting louder and louder as the chief called ‘Destructor’ into the circle. The ground cracked beneath the rats and a small hole appeared, through which a holding pillar with an ‘R’ marked rune stone pushed through.

“I don’t believe it! Destructor really IS a rune stone!” Sarah gasped.

“En elkeen wat aan Destructor is vervloek om ‘flikker’ gaan, of sterf...”

“Whoever touches Destructor is cursed to go ‘poof’, or die.”

“Maar miskien Charles kan ons destructor beheer?”

“‘But perhaps Charles can command their destructor’. We might have come across a problem, Charles. They won’t cut you down until you prove that you can control THAT rune stone. What are we gonna do?”

Charles dug into his pocket and pulled out the map, pointing it towards the rune stone. Just like metal to a magnet, the rune stone hovered off its’ holding pillar and landed in Charles’ hands.

This was enough to astonish the rats and they started bowing to Charles, chanting his name. “Charles is ’n kragtige! Charles is ’n kragtige!!”

The rat chief walked to Charles, issuing for him to be let loose.

“Hey, what about me, Robert?” Sarah called.

“Working on it, Sarah. It was hard enough to make them think Charles was a mighty magician. Now I have to get them to let you go as well. I’m trying to figure out what to say. My suster Sarah is ook ’n kragtige, sy is ’n God se vriendin in werklikheid.”

“Sy is ’n God se vriendin? werklik jou familie is geseën en kragtige, Robert!”

“Robert, I hope what you just said was good.”

“Apparently, I told them you were a god’s girl-friend ... look, it was the only thing I could think of saying in such a short time. They obviously think we’re blessed by the gods now and will do whatever we want!”

“Well, tell them I want to be cut loose!”

“Sarah wil los nou te sny. Oh, I’m getting tired of this!”

After Robert announced this to the rats, Sarah was let down gently and Charles bowed to the rat chief, at which point he whispered to Robert. “How do I say thank you in their language?”

“Dankie, Charles.”

Charles thanked the rat chief, at which the rat chief replied. “Baie dankie vir julle menslike Charles. Jy het merkwaardige gawes en jou broer, Robert, is ’n baie gelukkige wese. Julle is almal goeie mense.” Which Robert informed Charles to mean ‘Much thanks to you, human Charles. You have truly remarkable gifts and your brother, Robert, is a very fortunate being. You are all good humans.’

Then once they started to walk off, the tribal rats were relieved to be rid of the destructor and started to celebrate while the chief tribe rat kept waving to the three kids. The kids hadn’t walked far (but far enough for the rats not to hear them) when Robert suddenly burst out laughing. Charles and Sarah looked at him, and then they burst out laughing as well.

“That was hilarious, Robert! Was all that mumbo-jumbo REALLY African?” Sarah smiled.

Robert snorted uncontrollably. “Well, it worked, didn’t it? I think I almost got tongue-tied doing that! But it was still fun. Hoo, boy! Anyone got any water?

I think I need it! I’m pretty sure that any more of that and I’d be speaking uncontrollable African for the rest of my life.”

As they continued, the chief of rats smiled happily and said, in African. “They nice humans!

Later, close to night, Charles, Sarah and Robert set up camp next to the river, feeling quite tired from the two days that had passed.

“This is weird. Sleeping in a dream. I feel like a fool.”

“Can we lay off that, Robert? I don’t feel like arguing again. Charles, you sure the stones will be ok by your side?”

“I’m sure, Sarah. Look, to be on the extra safe side, we’ll take shifts. I’ll stay awake for the first two hours, then Sarah, and then you Robert. Two hours each, ok? No more or less. That way, we can be double sure that none of our stuff gets stolen, particularly the stones. Anyway, goodnight. We’ll continue in the morning.’

“Yeah, night Charles. Night Robert. Or is it DOUBLE good-night for you?”

“Ha ha, Sarah. You’re a riot!” Robert replied sarcastically, trying to get comfortable on his back-pack.

Charles smiled slightly and looked at his watch to see what the time was.

He sighed and whispered to the wind. “Good-night Mum. I hope you’re safe.”

Speaking of Mary Rochester, back in the human world, Mary was sitting in Chief Jay Witt’s police car, heading for the manor in the hopes of finding her children safe and happy, and thinking of who could possibly have tried to kill her.

She didn’t think it was Jonson, her ex-husband, because even though it had been thirteen years since they last talked to each other face-to-face, she knew he would never go THAT far.

After all, he had left her. Left her just after Charles’ birth, too. Sarah and Robert both knew and remembered what their dad was like, but Charles had only seen photographs. He hadn’t even talked to Charles!

As she was thinking about this, a shouting figure stopped the police car and banged on the window.

It was Mary’s father.

“Officer, Mary!” He shouted.

“What, what’s wrong?” Mary asked.


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