9. Regicide
The king’s chambers were easy to find. His insane babbling was audible from far out. Bar-Bar hoped to make sense of it, hear intelligent words that convinced him to abort the mission, but even when he was almost inside the room, it remained nonsense.
Him and Tattlerat flattened themselves again, this time against furniture. A new pack of wolf soldiers passed by.
“It’s chaos on the plaza. All of Amor tries to prevent the Flame Ceremony,” one said to Wolfar. “But if this many animals are against our punishments, oh royal prince, should we not—”
“Animals don’t know what they want!” yelled Wolfar. “Violence. Force. It’s the only way to be sure that animals do what is good for them!”
“And, erm, more bad news,” said the other with downcast eyes. “The Hens have decided to attack the city anyway. A thousand chickens stream towards the palace as we speak.”
“Traitors!” yelled Wolfar. “We pay them coin until it comes out of their ears, and now they turn on us?”
“To be honest, oh fair prince, we have no idea what their goal is.” The wolf looked over his shoulder. The screams from the plaza reached all the way to the upper floor. “But we need all soldiers.”
Wolfar agreed to send more guards. Only one wolf stayed behind to guard the closed bedroom door.
Bar-Bar could not wait any longer. He stepped from the shadows and, with a jerk of his head, threw his spear.
“Well, well, be wise now,” said Tattlerat softly to the guard. “Every noise you make might be your last.”
“Listen, young wolf boy. You know the king is insane and his son ignores the law,” Bar-Bar whispered. “Why do you work for them? Why haven’t soldiers seized power long ago?”
The wolf hit the door with the dull end of his spear. He shrugged. “Because the king pays me and feeds me well.”
“You’re as bad as the tyrant you serve!”
“Says the barbarian trying to conquer our city!”
“You think we want your precious Amor!? We actively try not to get a city or homes! That’s where all the trouble starts!”
The soldier was surprised, just for a moment. The Tattlerat jumped at the opportunity, but was too late. The spear pushed open the doors; the guard yelled about intruders.
Before Bar-Bar could grab him, Wolfar jumped in front of him. The soldier bit into a long rope and hung from it with his entire weight, which sounded the palace bells.
Wolfar licked his lips. “Always nice if food just walks up to you.”
The king was already bored and drank another bucket of wine in a single gulp. Wolfar looked unsteady on his feet, but sharp enough to be dangerous.
His first attack was a fast claw towards Bar-Bar’s left side. The sheep rolled away, over a sofa turned upside-down, and landed close to the soldier hanging from the rope. He gave the guard a headbutt, which sent the soldier flying through the room, as if swinging from a vine in the jungle.
The heavy wolf body bumped the king and the prince against the other wall. They stayed down, dazed.
Bar-Bar grabbed the middle of the spear in his mouth and ran for the king. All he pierced was a wall, merely grazing the king’s snout and front paw.
Wolfar grinned, then laughed. “Barbarians are hopeless.”
Bar-Bar answered confidently: “But alas, that spear was poisoned.”
Wolfar sniffed the point of the spear. Then he pulled his father out of the room, onto the hallway.
“Don’t die yet, you old drunk fool,” he roared. “Do it when we have enough witnesses!”
They ran down the stairs, to the chaos on the plaza below. Bar-Bar and Tattlerat merely looked down through the window.
It was madness. Utter chaos. Amori, soldiers, Hens, all of them ran into each other and attacked each other—most without weapons, and an increasing number of them without clothes. And all of that on a raised platform that now contained four animals pushed towards a Flame. Four animals?
Odin’s revenge! They had captured Wolzam too! And where was Solong?
“How quickly their nice civilization collapses,” the Tattlerat spoke softly. “I don’t even want to write gossip about this. They’d say it was too unbelievable to be true.”
“However much I like to see this,” Bar-Bar said, “this is the wrong time.”
They chased the king, sliding and jumping over stairs, racing through corridors. Beautiful carpets were ripped in two, candles extinguished as they passed, and decorated oak doors suddenly contained a hole in the form of a large sheep and a small rat.
Until they reached the ground floor and ran outside.
The chaotic sounds that sounded dull and soft in the hallways, now reached Bar-Bar’s eyes at full volume and aggression. The noise blew him away. Tattlerat pushed his paws against his ears and used his tail to climb to a higher position.
Wolfar dragged the king with him, straight into the chaos. And halfway … he just dropped his drunk, mumbling dad like a piece of garbage.
“Stop!” Bar-Bar screamed. “We are not enemies!”
“Stop the king! And Wolfar!” Tattlerat tried.
Nobody listened. They fought anyone they met, like ants crawling a messy ant hill. Wolves were suddenly arrested with their own handcuffs. Hens stole white robes, which where stolen again by a giraffe. They didn’t listen to reason, nor threats, nor their crying kids. And the Hens, in their lage numbers, cackled through it all.
In that crowd, he couldn’t even find the king anymore. Had he been taken? Was he still alive? Bar-Bar tried to bump and squeeze his way to the Flame, but he made no progress. How would he ever get to the center?
“Stop fighting!” said a high-pitched voice from up high. “Get everyone away from the Flame!”
Solong stood on the roof of the largest tower. Together with the wolf soldier who had chased her all the way there—and now kicked her off the roof.
Bar-Bar’s breath caught.
He saw only one solution.
He started running, faster than ever, around the plaza. His fur glowed and send out magical waves, similar to those of the Flame, even clashing with those of the Flame in mid-air.
Each time he raised his hind legs, a wooden fence grew from the dirt.
They were slanted, yes. They were broken, sliced, discolored, different every time. But he casted them all into existence as he made his circle, creating a longer and longer chain of fences around the entire plaza.
Himnib and Ginsea touched the Flame. Their eyes opened wide, turning all colors of the rainbow, and their paws lit up as if burning in cold fire.
Bar-Bar bleated in frustration, shrinking his circle. He cut straight through the plaza to reach the raised platform sooner.
At full speed, he bumped the bear and the hamster away from the Flame. The object itself tumbled the other way and disappeared in the pulsating mass of fighting animals.
He looked up. Falling, screaming Solong had almost reached the ground.
In his old bones, he found more power and more speed. The fences behind him left larger and larger gaps. One was so misshapen that it immediately fell down. Would it be enough? He hadn’t used his magic in so long, hadn’t ever tested it this much.
Solong screamed at the incoming stone floor, deafeningly loud, eyes wide.
She landed precisely on Bar-Bar’s thick wool—which bounced her back into the sky.
Bar-Bar couldn’t wait. He continued his run. Just a little more until he’d circled all the way back to the start of his fence. Twenty steps. Ten.
Soldiers chased him, grabbing at his fur. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the king stumble away from the chaos, while Wolfar tried to free himself from angry teeth, tails and wings on the other side.
Bar-Bar’s fur caught something. He felt a bite in his side.
Must. Continue. Close. Circle.
He built the last fence, as his heart skipped frighteningly many beats at once. But the entire plaza had been circled—he had built a fence around everyone.
All the animals fell to the ground. As if the Sand King had covered them all in piles of sleep dust.
Solong was back on her downwards trajectory.
“Catch her! Catch her!”
The animals closest to him, who were trying to kill each other just now, immediately listened. They formed a huge pillow below Solong, with complete disregard for their own safety, and caught her safely.
“And now … help me now,” said Bar-Bar, his voice failing. He sunk through his paws and saw, laying on his back, how all animals stood up and followed his commands.
His magic had worked. All inside the circle were now … his. Some were too surprised to listen immediately. The king was on the ground, snoring. His sons lay against each other a short distance away. But they’d stopped fighting and the Flame was gone.
A bear with a friendly face kneeled next to him. Shepherd Solong healed the wound at his side, as much as she could manage with her powers.
A massive grey owl landed on one of the wooden fence poles.
“Thanks a lot for the help, lazy owl,” Bar-Bar said with a sour face. Stupid. Don’t talk like that to the highest Companion from he Council of Kame.
But Aria smiled. “I can invent very wise laws. But there are moments … when laws can’t make any difference.”
Her beak pointed at the king. He had stopped moving; he’d never move again.
“Now, this plaza contains a hundred animals who will listen to anything you say. You and you alone. There is an empty throne. This is the moment you need my wisdom.”