4. Hearing Ears, Unseeing Eyes

Bar-Bar placed a ladder against the outer walls of Amor. The walls reminded him of the time he abused his magic and encircled an entire grass plain. He could only laugh at the fact Amori had voluntarily locked themselves into a cage and called it civilization.

Normally, the Grapi used these ladders to get past natural obstacles when they traveled, such as wide rivers or fallen trees. It was one of the few items they always kept around, while everything else was left behind or broken down. Tonight, however, its purpose was less benign.

They were not the human ladders you think of, dear reader, but ones for animals. More a thick plank with uneven holes to stick your paws into. In the same way, they didn’t carry human weapons, but helmets with thorns or horns, and maybe a two-sided spear they could carry between their teeth.

The Tattlerat ran over the ladder and landed on the other side, joined by Bar-Bar and two of his strongest pigs, who were a few years away from becoming adults. Entering Amor had become easy ever since the king had gathered all his soldiers near the palace. Easy for barbarians; equally easy for the deadly Hens.

“Remember, my little spies,” Bar-Bar said, “we are merely here to investigate. This mission smells like a big mistake—and smelly Amori, of course. I’m mostly looking for a strong reason not to do it.”

They kept to the shadows. The ladders allowed them to climb over the hidden rooftops instead of the visible streets. There, animals already walked around or constructed their market stalls for when morning came, and some of them looked up at the noise.

“Some Amori will have seen us climb the walls,” said the Tattlerat. “It’s better if I spread some false rumor about it, than if they start drawing their own conclusions.”

“You really think animals will leave their warm bed, at midnight, to report this to—”

More and more wolf guards filled the streets, looking specifically at the rooftops. The barbarians pressed themselves flat against the stone.

The Tattlerat smirked. “Yes. Those good, upstanding, lawful Amori certainly will.”

Bar-Bar wasn’t afraid they’d catch him. They wouldn’t, not while tripping over those silly white robes of theirs! He continued at the same pace, until they reached one of the outer towers of the palace. He climbed on the chimney for a better view; the Tattlerat shuffled close to listen.

The room only held one candle. The light regularly dimmed, temporarily, when someone walked past it.

“… that will teach you,” Wolfar said with a roar. “Opening that big mouth of yours. Testifying against your own father!”

A hit. Someone cried in pain. Tattlerat drew closer, but Bar-Bar pulled him back before he fell off the roof.

“You bring us all into a horrible situation. From now on, shut up.”

Another hit. Another cry, followed by sobs.

“Yes … yes,” said Wolzam’s creaky voice.

A third wolf entered the room: Wodrik. “Our spies report several Barbarians left for Amor. Maybe … tonight is the night.”

“Barbarians?” Wolzam asked.

“What did I tell you about shutting up?” Wolfar kicked him once more. Then he suddenly walked to the window to look at the night sky.

Bar-Bar rapidly duck behind the chimney, taking the two pigs with him. Wolfar looked over their heads, unknowing.

“That’s where you belong,” he told his younger brother. “With the Barbarians. They’ll eat you alive! They’re cannibals! They have no rules, no boss, no clean homes. They don’t even wear clothes or drink wine. It’s exactly the pile of dirt from which you must have come. And so I’ve spoken.”

Wodrik and Wolfar gulped down an entire glass of wine in tandem. Wolzam refused to drink wine at all, causing further headshakes from his brothers.

“Too much mud in his brain,” Wodrik said. “That must be where it went wrong.”

Now both of them stared out of the window. Bar-Bar’s pure strength held everyone together behind the chimney, but now his paws were shaking.

“We should give him the Flame,” Wodrik mumbled. “Get rid of the entire nonsense.”

Wolfar tapped the back of his brother’s head. “Remember the entire city has no clue about Wolzam’s situation. We must appear to the outside world as a loving family, especially now.”

Wodrik looked to the side. The golden jewelry over his entire body reflected moonlight straight into Bar-Bar’s eyes, who stifled a cry. “How so?”

Wolfar grinned. “I have found my bride. Wisira. Beautiful. Sweet. The perfect queen.”

His brother looked dejected. “I … I’ve also found my bride. More beautifuller than yours! Sweeter of sweetest. A better queen.”

“What a shame she will never be one,” said Wolfar. “Wisira is already my wife, I’ve filled in all the right lawful paperwork. I only have to tell her still.”

“What if she says no to your ugly face?” his brother said, only half joking.

“We …”

Wolfar suddenly grew embarrassed, gesturing something to his brother, unable to speak a simple word. We mated. Not even: We shared a bed. When his brother understood, he nodded and looked away awkwardly, and like good Amori they decided to speak no more of the uncivilized matter of reproduction.

“We’ll get a child soon. The royal family will continue through me, the only one around here who has a functioning brain. Thus I have concluded my statement.”

They both looked over their shoulder.

“But you will never get a child to support the royal family, right brother?” he said to Wolzam, who still lay on the floor, squirming from the pain. “I do get your concern, Wodrik. I’m not sure we could ever beat the devil out of him. It’s unthinkable rumors would ever spread that he feels love for … Unthinkable!”

“Still feel,” Wolzam said through ragged breaths.

His brothers turned around to hit him again. The Tattlerat let go of the others to write down this gossip immediately. This surprised Bar-Bar and upset the balance, causing the pigs to roll down the roof like heavy tree trunks, until they only felt empty air below them.

Bar-Bar speeded down the wall, but came too late.

Fortunately, the pigs landed straight in a cart filled with grain, like a soft pillow to—

Until the owner of the cart pulled it away and let the pigs hit the cobblestones.

“Ew! Go away, filthy barbarians!”

“Why did you do that!?” Bar-Bar yelled at the grain farmer.

“Don’t be stupid. No Amori will ever buy grain touched by a pig! Or dirt!”

“Grain grows in the dirt!”

The owner quickly pushed the cart to the next street. The wolves, who were already looking for them, hastened to reach this street and encircle the barbarians.

The pigs lived, but they still hadn’t opened their eyes or moved. Bar-Bar could only lift one, but was surprised when the other was lifted by a bear.

A female bear with shining fur and sweet eyes. Bar-Bar felt the special aura around her that he associated with magic. So, must be a demigod, child of the original gods.

“I am Solong, Bear-Shepherd and Companion. Does one of you know where Himnib is? I was supposed to meet him days ago just outside of Amor.”

Bar-Bar didn’t know, but he could guess.

A rabbit jumped from the shadows to help as well. “Fear the worst,” he told the bear. “Animals have been vanishing for years now, since the king went mad. They never return.”

The rabbits turned out to be a family who’d lost their home. “Himnib? The companion?” the mother said. “Yes, he was arrested and sentenced to the Flame.”

“What? Why? You can’t punish a Companion like that,” Solong said. “Himnib is the sweetest animal, and so are his hundred sheep.”

“Why? No reason, of course.”

The wolf guards had finally reached their corner of Amor. Bar-Bar looked around, but saw no escape. Not while carrying two heavy pigs.

The magic burned within him. Just a short burst of energy, a quick run of magic, and the entire situation would be solved.

But no! He’d never turn another animal into his slave again.

“And vanish is what they’ll do to us Barbarians,” Bar-Bar said, “if we don’t leave now.”

He was used to animals stepping away at the sound of that word. Most could identify a Grapi animal from a distance and had become quite good at pretending to throw up.

So why were these animals still here and helping?

“You are under arrest!” the wolves yelled. “Put away your weapons, put up your paws—”

“For what?” Bar-Bar tried in a neutral voice, as a last attempt.

“You broke laws 4.3.2, 6.7, 9.1.2, and of course—”

“Which says? We did nothing wrong, just walking around and helping injured animals.”

“You’re not allowed to walk around without clothes. Children are not allowed out of the home during the night. You have no power here, barbarian.”

“Most importantly,” a bigger wolf said. “The king has commanded all pigs to be killed on sight. We’re just following commands, surely you can understand.”

The wolves moved rapidly to seize the pigs, who could not defend themselves now. Before anyone could utter a protest, they were brutally killed with a single bite.

Bar-Bar’s muscles tensed, but then he sighed deeply and let go. The Asha, from so long ago, were still right. Living in large groups and large cities with a common ruler—it only caused trouble and injustice.

This battle was lost. But he’d win the war.

As he fled, however, the rabbits and bear went with him. Their eyes were questioning, almost pleading, for the chance to walk with Bar-Bar to their camp in the wilderness.

They searched for a bit of Amori civilization among the Barbarians, dear reader, for they could not stand the barbaric treatment of the Amori any longer.

Standing back on the walls, he’d lost a few of his best pigs, and gained a few new strangers. The Tattlerat joined them all, out of breath.

“I have schematics of the most important parts,” he said. “Traded them for some gossip about the royal family in Traferia. And I discovered the library is always accessible and open, though mostly empty at night.”

The rat casually waved at the other animals, then whispered to Bar-Bar. “You must make a decision. The king is leaving soon, and will be away for six months to visit Traferia.”

Looking out over Amor, Bar-Bar only saw wolves arresting poor animals for daring to breathe. Turning around and looking the other way, he saw the first Hen soldiers appear on the horizon, closing in on them.

“I’ve made my decision,” Bar-Bar said, his expression dark. “Let’s kill a king.”