The Sharpened Fangs Of Lupine Spirit

by H. G. Sansostri

  “No!”

  Corsair hurried forwards, crashing through the water, eyes set on the back of the rabbit. Panic fuelled him to keep running forwards, to defend his best friend, and he fumbled for his blade as he advanced. It refused to come free, its hilt still snagged on his belt.

  Don’t lay a paw on him don’t you dare lay a paw on him…

  Another enemy stepped out and brought her blade back, ready to swing at him, but Corsair shoved the rabbit and sent her falling backwards into the water. Dying screams and cries of pain sounded from all around him, accompanied by the snips of arrows cutting through the air as they flew past. The distance between him and the rabbit was closing.

  Quickpaw was oblivious to his approaching demise, unable to see the rabbit bring up her blade over his neck.

  Not him please not him don’t touch him-

  She prepared to carve Quickpaw’s head from his body.

  Quickpaw, with wide eyes and flattened ears, looked up at the rabbit and yowled in panic.

  “Get away from him!”

  The rabbit looked over her shoulder, eyes wide and mouth slightly open in surprise, but couldn’t react in time as Corsair crashed into her. The sword fell from her gloved paws and splashed into the water beside Quickpaw, sinking to the bottom.

  Corsair slammed the rabbit into the bank of the pond, pinning her there with one arm pressed against her chest and the other pulling back to punch her in the face. He felt his clenched metal paw connect with his target. She yelled out as the blow knocked her helmet off. He brought back his paw to strike again but she shoved him off and threw him into the edge of the pond. Corsair was momentarily stunned.

  He came back to his senses as he saw the rabbit yank a dagger from a sheath by her hind paw and charge him, aiming the blade for his throat. Before he could think, Corsair’s paws were up to intercept the rabbit’s swinging arm and he caught the wrist, pushing it away from him.

  They struggled against each other. The rabbit used her other paw to support her arm, forcing the blade closer to his jugular. Corsair’s arms trembled, desperately enduring the rabbit’s strength.

  I’m going to die no please not like this I don’t want to die please…

  “Ragnee! Help! I need help! Someone!”

  No one came to his aid.

  His arms were giving out, unable to hold back the rabbit for much longer. His mind whirred, knowing death was moments away.

  He made a bold move.

  He abandoned his efforts to hold the blade back and, instead, pushed it down to the side. The dagger shot down towards the surface of the pond, still held in the rabbit’s paws, but brought the soldier forwards into a disadvantageous position. Corsair turned away from the rabbit, pressing his back against her front, and positioned his elbow in front of her nose. He brought it forwards and then slammed the metal elbow into the rabbit’s face.

  She let out a scream as the metal broke her nose on impact, dropping the dagger and reeling back. It disappeared with a plop but Corsair swung one paw down into the water and caught the hilt.

  He heard that familiar cry and knew the rabbit was charging him.

  Corsair turned, bringing the dagger up from the water, and swung it around with arm extended to confront his opponent.

  He realised the rabbit was a lot closer than anticipated.

  With one panicked swipe of the knife, he slit her throat.

  Blood sprayed out from the slit, hitting him in the eyes and across the bridge of his snout. He dropped the blade and tipped backwards, crashing against the edge of the pond, green eyes wide in shock as he realised what he’d done. The rabbit clutched her bleeding throat, eyes wide in pain and fear, stumbling back away from him. Blood poured on to her gloves and she gargled, struggling against fate.

  With a dying gurgle, her eyes dimmed and she pitched forwards into the water. Corsair’s gaze transfixed on the floating corpse.

  A mist of crimson bloomed around her.

  I killed her.

  He looked to his left.

  He saw a wolf slash down a rabbit, his dying shriek cutting through the rest of the soundscape.

  I killed someone.

  He looked to his right.

  He saw a rabbit stab a wolf in the back. His howl of pain was interrupted as she shoved him down into the water, stabbing again and again.

  This isn’t right. This can’t be right.

  A lupine comrade turned and retaliated, cutting the rabbit’s head from her shoulders and kicking her corpse down. He reached for his wounded fellow wolf, dragging him to the surface.

  This can’t be right! This isn’t right! This isn’t right!

  What little resolve he had at the start of the battle disappeared in a fraction of a second, throwing him into a chasm of hysteria.

  “Help!” he screamed, shaking his head and beginning to cry. “I can’t do this! I’m going to die! I’m going to die, someone help me!”

  His wolf comrades ignored him, clambering out of the pond and continuing to charge forwards. Arrows flew by and embedded themselves in the flesh of his comrades, followed by their dying screams and howls.

  “Please! I’m going to die! I’m going to die I can’t do this anymore! Ragnee! Rohesia! Axel! Quickpaw! Someone, please, do something! Save me! Save me!”

  He heard the sound of something rushing towards him, just loud enough to be heard over Quickpaw’s persistent panic. He was hyperventilating, eyes trained on the floating rabbit corpse amongst many, watching the water turn crimson.

  “Save me!”

  Something dropped down into the water beside him and he bellowed in surprise, falling on to his rump in the water and pushing himself away.

  “Get away from me!”

  “Hey, hey, take it easy!”

  Axel helped him on to his hind paws and hurried him under the bridge. Arwenin dropped down and rushed over to Quickpaw, offering yaps of reassurance and helping him out of the reeds. Quickpaw steeled himself and padded through the water with her, ducking under the bridge for refuge.

  Axel positioned Corsair against the edge of the pond.

  “Are you hurt? Where are you hurt?”

  “I-I killed someone,” Corsair stuttered. “She was going to kill Quickpaw so I attacked her and we struggled and she tried to stab me and I killed her I killed her I killed her…”

  “What?”

  “I killed someone, Axel! I killed someone and I can’t do this anymore! I can’t see people die, I can’t kill anyone! You need to take me home! You need to get me out of here!”

  Corsair winced as Axel growled.

  “Are you kidding me, Corsair?”

  “P-please, Axel, I can’t do this! I can’t go out there! I’m going to die or kill someone else and I’ve got blood on my face! I don’t want to die, Axel, please!”

  “You can’t be wasting my time like this, Corsair! Other people need help!”

  “But…”

  The ground trembled as a boulder hurtled into the earth and they both ducked down. Screams and howls followed, accompanied by the thuds of bodies hurled into the air by the impact crashing back into the ground.

  “Apothecary!” someone wailed. “My leg! I can’t move!”

  “Oh God, it hurts! It hurts!”

  Axel stepped away from Corsair, moving to leave the pond, but the prince caught his arm.

  “You can’t leave me alone here! Please! I’ll die!”

  “You’ll die if you stay here,” he said, shrugging him off. “A boulder from a trebuchet could hit this pond and then you’re done.”

  “But‒”

  “If you get caught deserting or running away, you go to jail. Keep moving forward. I don’t have time for this. Come on Arwie!”

  Axel rushed out into the open and began to clamber out, his ictharr heaving herself on to dry land with dripping-wet fur.

  “I can’t kill anyone again!” Corsair yelled.

  But the apothecary didn’t answer. He mounted Arwenin and sped off towards the
screams as another trebuchet boulder crashed down into the wolves. Corsair cowered under the bridge, the bodies of his enemies floating beside him while his comrades lay at the bottom by his hind paws, their armour dragging them down. He shook his head and stepped back, kneeling into the water.

  “I can’t. I can’t do it. I can’t do it.”

  Quickpaw growled and he turned his head. His ictharr was as terrified as he was, lowered down to shy away from the edge of the pond, unsure of what to do. The wolf continued to kneel there for a moment, listening to the yells of pain coming from all sides.

  I can’t do it again. I can’t. It’s another person. I’m killing another person.

  Then he remembered what Axel had said. Jail. He’d be locked away. How long? He didn’t know. A month or a couple of years behind bars for cowardice. If he continued to stay there, he faced a harsh sentence from which his status wouldn’t save him.

  All the blood. The bodies. The dying howls. The dead ictharrs.

  He knew that, much to his dismay, he had to advance. Even if he weren’t found, the bridge wouldn’t deflect a trebuchet boulder flung towards the pond and would crush both him and Quickpaw in a second. His best chance was not to remain stationary but to keep moving.

  He turned to meet Quickpaw’s reluctant gaze.

  “W-we have to go forwards.”

  Quickpaw gave a growl of fearful protest, shrinking into the bank of the pond.

  “Trust me… okay? I won’t let anyone hurt you. I promise you.”

  Quickpaw remained unsure for a following moment, tempted by the idea of staying where they were, but forced out a growl of agreement. Corsair led him out from beneath the bridge and, after scanning the bloodied and muddied landscape, dragged himself out from the water. He got to his hind paws as Quickpaw pulled himself out of the pond. He mounted him, sitting down in the saddle and turning to face the settlement.

  I can’t do it.

  He froze again.

  I can’t do this.

  With nothing but the desperation to survive left in him, he snapped the reins and charged forwards after his comrades.

  In the town centre of Pothole Plains stood a newly-erected triage centre, consisting of dozens of leather tents. The banner of the Land of the Sun and Moon, a circle that was half-moon, half-sun, flew high above them. One side was bright yellow, glowing with light, while the other was dark purple. It reminded the soldiers of their faith and devotion – of their duty to defend their land from the lupine invaders.

  Beds and cabinets of medical supplies filled the tents of the triage centre. A line of trebuchets stood several metres away, showering the enemy with boulders. Teams of rabbits heaved the ammunition into position, readying it to fire.

  However, minutes after the wolves launched their assault, the officer could see how dire the situation was.

  Every bed was filled with wounded, crimson staining the white sheets of the beds and the stone paving beneath them. Some soldiers were laid out on the ground, given thin sheets to lie on as scant comfort. She watched doctors rush to and fro from tent to tent, tending to the wounded as best they could.

  She knew offering to help would only complicate the doctors’ job even further.

  “Make way!”

  She turned to see two soldiers rushing past, paws holding either end of a leather stretcher. Blood was splattered across their armour and faces but they pressed on, carrying the wounded to safety. The officer followed the stretcher with her eyes and saw a rabbit lying there, eyes barely open and moaning weakly with several arrows protruding from his chest. Blood stained the leather sheet holding him up, pouring from his wounds.

  Help them recover, merciful moon.

  “Officer!”

  She turned back to face the entrance to the town centre. A lone rabbit ran towards her, pumping his legs forwards to close the distance as quickly as he could. When he arrived by the officer, he keeled over and panted, shaking his head.

  “You have news?” she asked.

  The messenger opened his mouth to speak but hesitated, unsure of how to deliver his message. She didn’t need to ask what was troubling him to know how the battle was faring. She suppressed her rising fear, knowing what defeat would lead to.

  “How badly are we losing, soldier?”

  “The lupines are advancing on the crops. It will be moments before they are upon the outskirts and minutes before they besiege our base camp, officer. They number too many.”

  She stood there, mouth agape.

  “They are already nearing the crops? What about the ambushes?”

  “They attempted to cross the ponds with their bridges and our soldiers leapt at them from the shallows but they were overwhelmed within a minute, officer. The sun’s ferocity was not enough – the lupines are simply too vicious. The soldiers need orders while they still have beating hearts in their chests or all will be lost.”

  The officer looked over her shoulder and towards the west. Cries of battle echoed from the front lines, growing louder with every passing second. The enemy would be overrunning them before long, no matter how many rabbits she sent to slow their advance.

  “Any attempt to defend the settlement further will only lead to a slaughter. We must prepare to retreat from Pothole Plains.”

  “Retreat? Officer, the reinforcements may still‒”

  “Do not let pride cloud your judgement, soldier. We have been abandoned. The wolves will keep charging, howling and snarling in bloodlust, cutting us down without hesitation. We are outmatched despite our preparations. Pothole Plains is lost.”

  “Then what do you propose, officer?”

  The officer pointed to the series of carriages lined up on the road leading to the eastern exit of the settlement, used a month ago to ferry cargo from their homeland to the front. Adeuns - creatures of formidable muscle - were connected in pairs to each carriage, waiting for their drivers to lead them.

  “Help the wounded on to the carriages and prepare to make haste for our land. When the wounded are accounted for, summon all our troops back to the town centre and ensure they make it on to the transports.”

  “What about our supplies? Our weaponry?”

  “Abandon everything except for the essentials – medicine, food, water. Spread the word as far as you can.”

  “What if there isn’t enough time, officer?”

  “Don’t worry about that! Go!”

  Not arguing, the rabbit rushed into the tents. She listened to his frantic cries as he spread the news, hoping the vulnerable would be shielded from harm.

  She turned to face her subordinate.

  “Acier?”

  A white rabbit in standard dress stood before her – golden robes over the dark trousers and white service shirt beneath the reinforced black-leather armour that was clamped over her torso, shins, forearms and shoulders. Black hind-paw socks and gloves covered her paws. Dangling from her shoulders and neck were strips of black cloth, reaching down from the headdress she wore. They concealed everything except her eyes, revealing the single black spot on the right side of her face.

  The officer looked down at Acier’s Caeli sword, the one-pawed engraved blade hanging at her side.

  “The wolves are upon us. We must keep the enemy occupied. Rally the troops.”

  The white rabbit nodded before she rushed off towards the triage centre. The officer looked back towards the west. Towards the enemy.

  Grant us fiery vengeance, sun. Let us slay every last lupine.

  “Charge!”

  “Into the fields! Cut them down!”

  “Take back Pothole Plains – for the Clan of the Great Lupine!”

  “For the Winter Baron!”

  Quickpaw bounded towards the wooden fence surrounding the crops, his master guiding him there while making sharp turns to avoid knocking down their slower comrades.

  “Leap!”

  Quickpaw jumped the fence and landed on the other side without an issue, taking a few steps before coming to a stop. Qui
ckpaw growled, unable to see through the crops, looking left and right for directions.

  “We need to keep moving, Quickpaw! I’ll lead you, come‒”

  A howl of pain sounded metres to his left and he looked up. His position on Quickpaw’s back allowed him to see over the tops of the tall crop plants, watching as a Krosguard rider lurched back with three arrows protruding from his chest and another from his throat. A cut-off yelp followed as his ictharr died, a stray arrow striking it in the face, and Corsair looked towards the source of the projectiles.

  A number of farm buildings loomed ahead, the windows broken for the archers to fire at the wolves and their mounts.

  Corsair saw the rabbits target him, drawing back the strings of their bows.

  “Down!”

  He dived out of the saddle and crashed into the ground, his armour clattering as it came against the soil. Quickpaw lay down, ducking his head away from the path of the arrows that whizzed through the air where they had just been standing.

  “Archers!” a wolf yelled.

  “They’re in the huts! Charge! Kill them!”

  “Forward!”

  “Keep moving, keep moving!”

  “In the buildings! Move the archers, get the ranks to the fence and fire into those buildings!”

  “Archers! Someone get the archers!”

  From every direction, the plants rustled as wolves rushed past. Corsair caught glimpses of them as they charged, watching as they wove out of the way of arrows and advanced with swords and shields at the ready.

  Then his eyes fell upon a body.

  A wolf lay dead in the middle of the crops. She was sprawled out on her front, blood pooling from beneath her. Her head was turned so her lifeless eyes gazed into his.

  Corsair froze, green eyes wide and body taut, unable to move.

  No. I can’t stop. I need to keep going.

  His will faltered.

  We need to keep moving. If we don’t, we could both die.

  He nodded, coming back to reality.

  “We need to run. Fast. Come on, stay close!”

  He charged forwards, knocking aside the plants as he advanced. He could hear Quickpaw behind him, padding along at a similar pace, following his master towards the edge of the field of crops. He couldn’t see ahead of him so he followed the yells of his comrades, assuming they knew in which direction they were travelling. He wove around blades of wheat, moving as much as he could to dodge incoming projectiles, eyes swivelling in their sockets as they scanned for flying arrows. As he ran, Corsair looked up. He saw the farmhouses ahead.