10. Epilogue

Himnib rested against a tree and looked over the plaza in a daze. A crowd of animals circled Ginsea, while the Wise Owl had taken her favorite position as judge.

“The laws and regulations are clear,” the hamster said. “The oldest son becomes the new king. So … Wolfar should be the new king.”

“But what a coincidence,” Aria said, as she waved her wings. “The Council of Kame has just passed a new law. One that forbids breaking your own laws, prince or not. I am afraid Wolfar can’t even be a candidate anymore.”

Cheers and applause. Wolfar, chained to a tree, roared and grunted, though he must have seen this coming.

All eyes fell on Wolzam, who’d only be an adult in a few years. “When the Amori promised they were cooperating with the barbarians, this wasn’t exactly what I had in mind. So the throne falls to you, oh noble king Wolzam.”

Silence fell. Most inhabitants didn’t really know him. Or they only knew him through the gossip from the Tattlerat, from his supposed love for boy wolves which was unthinkable, from how he’d switched sides and joined the barbarians, all of which were … true.

When the crown was placed on his wolf head, however, they cheered for him nonetheless.

Ginsea made haste, fidgeting with his white robes.

“And then there is the matter of the king’s death.”

He told himself he had to do this and that these were the rules. “Poison was discovered. A poison that works quickly, from a plant that only grows in Grapi territory, which was also present on the spear … of Bar-Bar.”

The Barbarians were part of the larger crowd, standing amidst Himnib’s herd of a hundred sheep.

“All evidence points to this sheep as the killer. And murder has the death penalty, even in the Council of Kame. Rule 1.1.4, am I right?”

Aria nodded. Ginsea’s sad eyes looked at the Barbarians.

“But,” said Aria, “maybe that poisonous plant also grows on continents we haven’t discovered yet.”

“Maybe,” Bar-Bar added, “Wolfar had stolen my spear.”

“Maybe laws only work because all animals silently agree to make them important,” said Aria. “In the end, they are made up rules, no matter how much you may agree.”

Ginsea nodded. “It could be, of course, that the king was already dead before he was poisoned, couldn’t it?”

“Oh well,” said Aria, “there is just no way to be certain about this. impossible.”

“Maybe,” Ginsea said, “there is no law without the lawless. No rule without the exceptions. No civilization without secrets. And so I rest my case.”

Lacking a hammer, Aria hit the fences with her wings, which made the wooden structures fall down. Part of the crowd returned to daily life—they still had to eat and sleep—while the other part stayed to congratulate their new king.

Himnib tried to remember what had happened. The past weeks were a blur. He’d been locked up, yes. Hadn’t he received some sort of punishment called the Flame? That hamster was familiar to him. Why was he here? Why were there suddenly rows of slanted fences around this plaza?

The face of a sweet bear appeared before his snout and startled him.

“Himnib!” she said with a twinkle in her eyes. “Oh, oh, you have no idea how happy I am that—”

“Sorry, but who are you?”

“But … but …”

Solong studied his eyes. They lacked even a hint of recognition, as if a part of the old Himnib was gone. Burned up in the flame.

She hugged the startled bear, warmly and too long for a stranger. Then she walked away with tears in her eyes.

“I …” Himnib stood up and grabbed her paw. “Did I do something wrong?”

Solong dried her eyes with her shiny fur. “No. No, sorry, I am Solong. I am also a bear, like, erm, like you. As you see. Happy to … meet you for the first time.”

Himnib smiled at her, but felt an emptiness inside. As if even the sweetest smile from this bear could not make him happy, as if he wanted her to go away.

“Well, yes, sure,” he stammered.

Why were these hundred sheep crowding around him all the time? Wait a minute—wasn’t that sheep there his? Why did he own a single sheep?

Solong saw it too. The demigod cried even more, as she convinced most of the sheep to follow her for the time being. “Be well, Himnib. Maybe … maybe one day you’ll heal and remember.”

Wolzam had immediately opened the gates to the Grapi tribes and other Barbarians. Ginsea had also helped him introduce the Leges: laws against the excessive consumption of alcohol. Of course, many Amori complained. But the Tattlerat spread just the right rumors to slowly turn the consensus around.

Bar-Bar was furious with himself for using his magic again. Now he had a hundred Amori who listened to him, followed his every command. But deep inside, he knew it had to be done, and that it prevented something even worse—such as the death of all those Amori during the chaos. Hesitantly, he tried to spread positive news about the Barbarians through his new … slaves. Until, one day, he might find a way to “release” them from his magic.

The Hens took a hit, losing that many chickens. They pulled back, but a messenger relayed they’d “punish Amor” and “would return”. Wolzam did not worry, for he now had the entire support of the Amori and the Grapi to defend against the flood of the Hens.

Although most Barbarians said no to his offer and just walked away. Something inside him wanted to join them and give the throne to someone else, like Ginsea. But that desired throne had suddenly become a most hateful object.

Ginsea swore he never wanted to lead another court case. Under the guidance of Aria the Wise Owl, he wanted to invent better laws. He even accepted a role as the next Companion of Hamsters, if the current one decided to retire.

But apply the laws? Interpret them the right way? Without ever making huge mistakes or jailing animals unfairly? He only realized now that this was the real work. Work that weighed too heavily on him.

Wolzam allowed all criticism aimed at the king and refused any exceptions or benefits for himself.

This angered the Tattlerat. His entire life was built on the fact that animals secretly provided him gossip, because they’d be locked up if they said those words out loud. And others would pay him handsomely to receive those secret whispers, because again, they’d never hear those naughty stories anywhere else.

Now that you were allowed to say and do nearly anything … well, gossip, secrets and naughty deeds went extinct faster than the dinosaurs.

Or as Ginsea said: “No virtue without vice. And so it is said and done.”

Had he followed the rules as they were intended? Or had he thrown away all he stood for? Perhaps a bit of both.

The truth, Ginsea saw now, was that you could only change things in two ways. Either you broke all current laws to get better laws. Or you gathered the biggest group of supporters who did what you asked without question, as Bar-Bar could achieve with his magic. Everything in between was a muddy path with a muddy end.

When Solong left, therefore, Bar-Bar joined her in hopes of finding something to release animals from his magic. Tattlerat followed, because where else would he go now?

Those not under his control returned to the tribes, dear reader, but they didn’t return to how it had always been. Too many animals joined them, which made them too large. Staying true to their lifestyle, living in small groups with no permanent location, became hard. Even worse, most newcomers wanted to imitate the Amori lifestyle—in their eyes, kings, homes, and aquaducts were the pinnacle of civilization.

Admittedly, it was hard to know the Barbarians and see their version of “civilization” as ideal. For they wrote nothing down and left nothing behind. All we know came from other civilizations that studied them, usually with disgust, or a gossiping rat who might have invented half his stories.

The Barbarians couldn’t care less. They continued walking around naked, rolling through mud, kissing everyone they liked, and calling the Amori insane for drinking wine all day and turning their own brains to mush.

And so it was that life continued …