7. Barbarian against Barbarian

Surprise traveled through the Grapi tribes when the spies returned … and had done nothing. Had they even arrived at the palace? Yes. Had they had the chance to kill the king? For sure.

It made even less sense for those who stood behind the mission. The other animals nodded with satisfaction, as if they knew the peaceful soul of Asha would win out eventually.

“See-o,” the leader of another tribe said. “In the end-o, you made the right choice-o.”

“Our hearts made the choice, yes,” said Bar-Bar. “But if it was the right one …”

The Tattlerat had stayed in Amor to keep an eye on the situation. Bar-Bar and Solong explained about the hamster, certain he’d win by following rules, and a locked-up Companion.

They sat or lay around a campfire, beneath the open sky. Their handful of tents were mostly made out of practical concern, such as protecting valuable goods against heavy rain. It was a true Wilderness compared to the shiny buildings and thick walls of Amor.

The Amori played a huge role in the demise of the gods, but if there was something they were eager to copy from them, it was the idee of Wilderness. Inside the city walls, each animal was protected, prey or predator. Outside city walls—in the Wilderness—everyone was on their own and predators could still hunt for their own meat.

Regularly, animals from Bar-Bar’s herd were eaten or attacked. It was a never-ending threat, but still the Barbarians kept living in their own way and refused to found cities. Even if they had the numbers and the power to do so.

The Grapi existed before the Amori, dear reader, had always been larger in number, and would keep existing long after Amor had fallen. But almost nobody would now, for they didn’t write anything down and didn’t build anything that lasted.

New strangers came to their warm fire, like most evenings. The poorest creatures from Amor. A few lost souls from different tribes. A sheep who missed an eye, a goat with one horn sawed off—probably by thieves who wanted to sell that material. And even a wolf with a scarred face and a limp, who still looked attractive in the eyes of many and received a lot of physical attention.

They often came dressed in black clothes, as if they were afraid to exist. But Bar-Bar knew one night at the fire would remove their shame, convincing them of the Barbarian ways in no time. Every time it happened, it still felt like magic, stronger than his actual magic that he still refused to use.

Everyone was welcome. The Grapi territory was one large area and it belonged to everyone inside. Each tribe had an eldest member, who was the closest thing to a leader, but otherwise encouraged freedom and invididuality.

In fact, Bar-Bar had the rule that you weren’t allowed to stay on the same plot of land for more than a month. Everyone had to constantly move around, to prevent becoming too comfortable and, oh no, accidentally start a city.

Tonight, however, a very strange stranger arrived. A Hen partially dressed like a soldier. The only real enemy of all animals on this continent.

Everyone immediately scrambled to their feet.

The female chicken raised her wings, still panting from her sprint. “I am a deserter! I don’t belong to the Hens anymore.”

She took off her helmet and wing harness to prove it. “I bring warning. They are coming. The entire tribe, all soldiers, are coming straight for you. And they are close.”

“Where do they get the weapons?” Bar-Bar grunted. “And the money!?”

All their own possessions were gathered in less than a minute. The campfire was extinguished by rabbits bringing buckets of water. They couldn’t win against the Hens, no, their many previous meetings had proven that. Their first meeting, which had forced Bar-Bar to use his awful magic to save thousands of animals and turn them into his slaves, had proven that.

Several animals nudged the scarred wolf, some even kissing him without shame or hesitation, but received no reaction. He didn’t seem interested in them, or anything happening around—

“I know where the Hens get the money,” he mumbled. “The Amori.”

Solong frowned. “Those two are the biggest possible enemies.”

The wolf shook off his robes. They hadn’t recognized him due to the scars. But in the dark, surrounded by fleeing Grapi, stood Wolzam—the youngest prince.

“Ever since the Hens existed, the Amori hire them to do their dirty jobs. The things for which they find themselves too good and noble. Such as slowly exterminating the other annoying Barbarians.”

“Like … us?”

Wolzam looked terrifying in the moonlight. His deepest scar traveled across his face like a lightning bolt.

“The Amori can tell themselves they’re nice and never did anything to you. Most inhabitants of Amor really believe that, too. Oh, how good they are. Oh, how civilized and the others barbaric. But in truth, all deaths because of the Hens … are really deaths because of them.”

They couldn’t talk any longer. The cackling of the Hens hung in the night air. Bar-Bar swore he could already see their tiny silhouettes on the horizon, atop a hill.

Their power was not in large claws or fire-spewing breath. Their power was, just like the Grapi tribes, in their numbers. Their power was measured in how much livestock they had and how many paws they could place on your territory.

And, apparently, bags full of gold from the Mindless Monarch himself.

Everyone started running. But whereto? Amor belonged to the Hens! But it was the closest wall they could hide behind.

And if the Hens were truly on Amor’s payroll … they wouldn’t actually attack Amor, right?

Bar-Bar hoped the element of surprise would allow most of them to enter the city before any alarm was raised. Then they’d have to somehow prevent being arrested or killed on sight due to their idiotic laws.

The flight seemed endless, the seven high hills of Amor a distant goal. The Hens won terrain; chickens were fast.

The slowest and weakest among them were placed on a cart, pulled by increasingly agitated cows. At some point, Wolzam was placed on it, and all the other animals shamelessly pushed into him for his warmth. He stiffened, as if not understanding what happened, mumbling this was not normal and he was already in love with someone else.

When two tired rabbits were also placed on his stomach, he realized this was normal here. His body relaxed and he started to enjoy the simple warmth of animals sleeping against him.

They reached the walls. Tattlerat waited for them.

“I have, erm, good news and bad news. Ginsea has revealed the truth and now all of Amor rebels against the king and Wolfar. The hamster is also inside a cell, waiting for his death. Together with, erm,” the rat tried to count on his thin paws, “more than a hundred other Amori.”

When all the animals jumped out of the cart, Wolzam barked softly and reached for them, his eyes half-closed and wanting to hug for a little longer.

When the news was repeated, he did wake up and jump out of the cart.

Bar-Bar’s face was dark again. Sparks appeared around his paws, changing colors and frightening anyone who stood nearby. “My little wolf prince, how much do you like your father and brother?”

Wolzam looked away. “Not as much as I should, I guess.”

“Good.”