Page 41 of Twins for the Barbarians

“Your Grace, how do your people get by without ever leaving the city?” I ask, eager to shift the subject away from an uncomfortable subject as I add more fruits to my plate. The morning sickness has subsided, only to be replaced by a ravenous hunger. “I’m thinking about agriculture, the breeding of animals, that sort of thing.”

“The entire western district has been adjusted to meet those demands,” Solomon replies. “We tore down the posh villas and palaces of former residents and created fields for grain and orchards. There’s enough there to keep us all fed and our granaries plentiful over the year.”

Neya nods in agreement. “And we raise our cattle and birds in the former ministry of war,” she says. “The building is big and well-illuminated, perfect for such an endeavor.”

“Of course, we do have hunters who go out every week,” Solomon adds. “Convoys of ten to twenty strapping men, armed and equipped for a week’s journey, if needed. We deactivate the maze traps on the northern side of the city, and we let them through. They know to signal us when they’re back.”

“So, you get fresh game on a weekly basis,” I conclude.

“Indeed. But they all know to remind the people of Opal City that they are safest behind its walls,” Solomon adds, “which is why we throw feasts to honor our hunters every time they return. They are hailed as heroes for having dared to venture so far for our food.”

I glance around the table, my gaze lingering on the pastries and bread in particular. “Are those western city fields enough? I’m trying to do the math in my head regarding the amount of grains used in bread baking alone.”

“There are about seven thousand of us, at most,” Sarin replies, her crimson eyes subtly narrowed as she looks at me. “It’s more than enough.”

“Has the population grown since the city became self-sufficient?” I ask.

Solomon glances at his wives, carefully considering his answer. “It has, but only by a thousand over the course of three decades.”

“Why so few?” Kharo inquires.

“Caution. We’re still reeling from a dreadful plague and the betrayal of our own government,” Solomon says. “Many of our people chose not to have children, fearful of the kind of wretched world they would be born into.”

“Your Grace, I have to ask…how is it that you haven’t had a single instance of the plague since the city was supposedly abandoned? You were all left behind on the assumption that your women were infected and that more would die,” Kingo interjects politely. “Yet your female population outnumbers the males.”

That’s the question we all want answered.

Every eye in the room is fixed on Kingo. We look at him with appreciation for asking it so bluntly. But Solomon only laughs, then slaps the table, which startles us and makes him laugh even harder.

“Finally, a smart one,” he says, giving Kingo an appreciative nod. “Well, let me tell you, young man. The secret behind our survival is that we cleansed our minds and hearts of Sunna’s old, foul habits first. The moment we renounced the ancient traditions, the warmongering nature of our ancestors and peers, the selfishness of a society that had become blinded by its own territorial skirmishes…we simply overcame the crisis.”

“But the plague is highly contagious,” I say. “It’s still killing women beyond these walls.”

“But it spared us,” Solomon insists. “I never looked into it, to be honest. I was merely thankful that our people got better and no new infections surfaced. I took it as a sign from the gods and did my best to lead my people into a brighter future.”

“We believe Sunna forgave us after we were nearly destroyed by our own leaders,” Sarin replies.

“Ah, so you are inclined to adopt the Fire Tribe’s ideology,” I say. “They believe the plague is a symptom of something terribly wrong with Sunna, though they haven’t come up with a strategy on how to mitigate or remedy that.”

Solomon gives me a hard look. “My brother Elian was one of the first to propose that theory. All I did was listen, and when the plague left our midst, I took it as a truth.”

“So, a miracle of sorts,” Helios scoffs.

“Sunna works in mysterious ways,” Neya warns him. “Surely, you of the so-called Fire Tribe are aware of that.”

“I am, but that’s just a belief. I’m a fan of hard evidence,” he says.

Again, the conversation looks like it’s going to devolve into forbidden territory. We’re still trying to figure these people out, to understand their society and how they’re able to function while being completely isolated from the rest of the world.

“Your Grace, please forgive us; we are simply curious and eager to understand, particularly given the state of the outer world,” I say. “We were warned that Opal City was a wasteland. Little did we know that we’re the ones who have been living in a wasteland.”

“I understand,” Solomon replies. “But I don’t have an answer for you. I wish I did, but after everything that has happened, I’ve learned to accept that the universe simply saw fit to let us live.”

“You are a scientist, aren’t you?” Kingo asks.

I have a mind to kick him under the table, but I can’t reach him. Luckily for us, Solomon doesn’t look annoyed at Kingo’s inquiries. “I am, yes. Well, I was a scientist. One of the best, if I’m being immodest.”

“Modesty never put food on the table,” I say with a chuckle.

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