The Fox and the Commander

“Greetings, Commander!” Frederick told the reclining man leaning against the big round boulder at the top of the hill.

“Hello, Freddy,” the man replied to the fox who had just hailed him. The reddish brown creature  flicked his bushy brush of a tail from side to side and curled up contentedly in the shade of a neighboring crag of stone, close enough to the knoll’s edge that he could gaze down on the scene his humanoid friend was watching with interest.

“You are still here, I see,” Frederick said lazily, glad to be out of the noonday sunshine. He had been in pursuit of an all-too-skinny quail cock who proved too fast for him. Later he would track the troublesome bird to his nest and obtain supper for himself and his family, whose tummies would be growling by then, no doubt. “Are the nomads still at it down below?” he asked.

“You know very well they are!” the man chided. “Since they set up their camp a week ago, you’ve been doing your best to pilfer whatever straying chicks you could from them, sneaking about and striking from the shadows.” He clucked his tongue good-naturedly. “If you don’t cut that out, I may decide to un-shade the sentries’ eyes and let them send an arrow in your direction!”

“All right, all right...I admit it,” the fox said with very little remorse. “But you can’t blame me for trying to snag an easy meal once in a while, can you? These tribes of yours might be your special favorites...though, for the life of me, I can’t imagine why...but you might spare an effortless morsel now and then for those of us who have to chase our dinner.”

“Oh, you poor, poor fox-ling! You have it so hard, don’t you, poor Freddy?”

“And sarcasm hardly befits you, Commander, sir!” the fox huffed half-heartedly. He squinted toward the rows of tents down on the plain below them, where women and children were awaiting the return of their menfolk. “But you are right...I watched the army set out earlier with all their strange stuff. To tell you the truth, sir, they didn’t really look very dangerous. Rumors have been circulating that they’ve defeated nation after nation, king after king, tribe after tribe. But you certainly couldn’t prove it by looking at them.”

“Frederick, what have I always told you about judging a scroll by its cover? Oh, their army is strong, alright. But it is a strength that doesn’t always show on the surface. You’ve seen rattlesnakes before. They don’t look very frightening on the outside, do they? But if one of them bites you, you’d be one sorry little fox-ling!”

“So, are you telling me that this nomad army is going to bite and poison their enemies to death, O mighty warrior?” Frederick snickered.

“Not exactly. But this hidden strength I’m talking about will win them the victory all the same. Did you see the fellow who’s giving them their marching orders?”

“Uh...you mean the one with the short beard and the fancy helmet? Always fingering his sword?”

“Right. Well, right after they set up their camp, I arranged a meeting with him and gave him the battle plan that will get them into the enemy’s stronghold. I assured him that if they obey my instructions exactly, then defeating the city would be like shooting ducks in a barrel!”

“Okay...so this daily march around the walls of the town is part of the plan, is it?”

“Yes. Once around the city each day for six days, carrying the ark and blowing the trumpets.”

“Oh. That explains all the noise. And the noise explains why all the birds I’ve been chasing have been so fidgety all week long...”

“Let’s not start on that again, Freddy...”

“Sorry. Anyway, how do you figure that marching and carrying the chest and blowing the horns is going to win any battles?”

“I told you. Doing this for six days will build up this inner strength I mentioned. Usually this strength can only be built up by giving people instructions to follow that are hard for them to understand.”

“Well, okay...those orders you gave them certainly qualify as hard to fathom! Now, after the six days, what will happen? The enemies will just give up and open the gates and surrender?”

“No, the city-dwellers will probably just laugh at them and throw things...”

“So, when do the nomads use all this inner strength they’re building up?”

“On the seventh day.”

“Ooohhh...what happens then? More marching, I suppose?”

“Yes, quite a bit more. On the seventh day they will circle the city seven times. Then all the people in the army will give a mighty shout!”

“...And?”

“That’s it. Then, the army gets to go on in and capture the city and destroy it.”

“Uh...did I miss something?”

“What do you mean, Freddy?”

“What do you mean, ‘what do you mean?’? The wall, man! There’s a big, thick, tall, impenetrable wall around the city!”

“No, no, no, my little friend. The wall won’t be there any more. The power I told you about will just obliterate it.”

“What? No battering rams?”

“No.”

“No black powder?”

“Uh-uh.”

“No earthquakes or tornadoes?”

“Nope. Just their faith, Frederick. Faith will give them the victory.”

“I...I...can’t believe it!”

“Believe me, Freddy, they do. They believe it. That’s why they are marching...why they’re following all my instructions, word for word.

“And when anyone believes me enough to obey me completely, there is nothing their faith cannot accomplish.

“Walls turn into piles of ash...

“Waters divide in two and dry up...

“Giants are killed with a stone and a sling...

“Tens of thousands are slain by a handful of men...

“And,” the man said with a knowing glint in his eye, “little foxes are allowed to catch up with quick quails!”

“Okay, I can take a hint,” Frederick said, springing up. He trotted down the hill with one backward glance. “But I’ll be back tomorrow...day seven, right? I wouldn’t miss this for the world!”


(1,057 words)