Imperium Lupi

by Adam Browne

*

  “Ah, very nice, very nice,” the Howler said, tossing the shiny apple into the air a few times before taking another enormous bite. He whirled away from the stall, the hood of his otherwise tight-fitting red mantle swaying outwards, and deigned to bid farewell to the little beast grocers by raising a dark, blue-grey paw.

  His fellow Howler, a blonde-furred wolf in the same kind of short red cloak, looked between the impoverished rats and the noble wolf, and raised a finger. “Uh, Uther,” he said, rather gently for one so well-built.

  “What’s up, mate?” Uther replied, stopping a moment, dark ears pricked.

  The golden wolf approached, “Well, aren’t you g-g-going to pay for that?”

  “Pay?” Uther scoffed, his robust brow knitting in bafflement. “P-p-pay!” he mocked further, whizzing round to face his compatriot wolf. “Ahahahahaha!” Slinging a dark, muscular arm around the shorter, stockier wolf he squeezed him close and growled in his coarse, sandpapery tone, “You’re funny, Linus. I like you.”

  Releasing Linus, Uther continued his patrol through the hustle and bustle of the covered marketplace, the iron roof arching overhead keeping out most of the drizzle, save for the odd rusty pellet-hole from the last Howler War, or perhaps even the one before.

  Linus surreptitiously returned to the stall. “Here,” he said, sliding a Lupan penny to the rat-folk, who were but half his size if that – and he was a height-challenged wolf himself, albeit sturdy. “Good day to you, citizens.”

  One of the rats, a young female by the looks, bowed graciously. “Thank you, Howler,” she said.

  Linus hurried back to Uther’s side, hoping his charity had gone unnoticed.

  Nothing escaped Uther’s sharp yellow eyes. “What’s wrong with yer?” he snorted.

  “W-www-what?” Linus stammered innocently.

  “They’re under our protection, dummy! Riddle Market is smack bang in Bloodfang territory.”

  “I know.”

  “Oh, you know but you shelled out? What fer this time?”

  Linus spread a paw, “I… felt sorry for them.”

  Uther sighed and patted him on the back, “Mate, that’s cute ‘en all, but you can’t help everyone. It’s a citizen’s duty to provide for us and ours to protect ‘em from the scoundrels of this world. We can’t run Lupa on good will alone, you know.”

  “I know, but they pay taxes too.”

  “Yeah, and we bleed and rot! They don’t. Now stop it, you’re embarrassing me.”

  Linus shrugged his burly frame, but said nothing as he and the taller, more athletic Uther continued to patrol the market, keeping one eye and one ear open for trouble. If trouble there be, Uther had twin short swords at the ready, one strapped tightly to each grey armoured thigh, and Linus his sword and shield, the latter slung over his back, turtle-like. The shield was round and white, save for the décor of black wolf skull and glowing red fangs. Their helmets, grey with white cheeks and red fang imperium markings, were hung over their sword hilts by their chin-straps, ready when needed.

  Uther bit his apple and further berated his partner through a mouthful of pureed fruit, “That’s exactly the sort of thing Rufus does. The fastest way to wind up dead in an alley is to let beasts think you’re a pushover like him. Puh! Wolves like that are bad for our hard-won reputation.”

  As he strolled along, Linus looked down at his armoured feet with his baby-blue eyes. “Forgive me, Uther,” he said, “but if he’s such a pushover how come he’s feared across Lupa?”

  “Know him do yer?” Uther asked.

  “Well, no, not personally. I’ve read all his work, though.”

  “Puh!”

  “Captain Rufus puts as much stay in knowledge as strength. I can but strive to emulate such a-a-a great Howler.”

  Uther grunted, “Even his hyena-loving? Give over!”

  There was a break in the conversation, but Riddle Market continued to swirl around the Howlers. Beasts of every kind, colour and creed proffered goods from across the Lupan Republic and beyond; fruit, honey, fish, delicious choice cuts of fried bugs. There were also living bugs; pet crickets on leads, antennae waving all about; massive beetles carrying crates on their armoured backs; and two ants of different colours wrestling in a huge iron cage as bets were placed on their fate by a raucous crowd. Trinkets glittered on stalls by the hundred and racks of clothing wafted in the gentle breeze; compared to a Howler’s imperium-laced mantle and brooch, the cloth and jewellery offered here was worthless.

  As he patrolled the market with the streetwise Uther, Linus tugged the front of his handsome red cloak. “Is it hyena-loving to w-www-want wolves and hyenas to get along?” he stammered. “All Rufus wants is a better solution than the Reservations. Surely we all do.”

  “You can bet the hyenas do!” Uther said. “It’s their own fault, mind.”

  “Do you know they call him ‘Red-mist’?” Linus said. “He once saved a hyena prince from getting eaten by a sewer centipede and they honoured him with the name-”

  “Yeah, yeah, I know, mate. Look, the hyenas only lick his toes ‘cause he stands up for ‘em.”

  “I wonder what it m-mmm-means, exactly. Red-mist.”

  Uther scoffed. “Dunno, mate, but they call me ‘Wild-heart’.”

  Linus piped in surprise, “Wild-heart?”

  “Yeah, Uther W. The W is for Wild-heart.”

  “Oh, so… you’ve been honoured by the hyena tribes too?”

  “Yup.”

  “When? How?”

  “Puh! Long story, mate. Captain Ivan’s got one too. Blade-dancer they call him.”

  “Well yes, everyone knows that, Uther.”

  “Do they now? Well, it’s nothing special, mate; them hyenas paw out their silly names like otters do fish ‘n’ chips.”

  Linus blinked, “Really? I’ve been labouring under the impression it’s a r-rrr-rare accolade, especially for a wolf.”

  Uther cocked his head side to side. “Look, whatever, I don’t care one fig about them troublemaking hyenas and nor should you, not if you want a quiet life,” he sniffed, his pale-furred face squirming a little under Linus’s scrutiny. ‘Wild-heart’ moved on, eager to take control of the discussion again, “Here, piece of advice, mate.”

  Linus waited patiently for this ‘advice’.

  “Should ol’ Rufus ever take a shine to yer,” Uther said, tapping Linus on the shoulder, “remember who you are.”

  A confused blink.

  Uther looked the stocky Linus up and down, “Just remember you finished top of your year, that’s why you’ve started as a Trooper First Class. You’re an alpha wolf.”

  Linus looked down at his toes again.

  “You are an alpha, aren’t you, mate?” Uther scoffed.

  The blonde wolf cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck. “One likes to think so, but it’s n-nnn-not our choice.”

  “Course it is!” Uther asserted, slapping Linus on his barrel-like chest with the back of a paw. “You’re built like a wall, mate! You’re an alpha male, make no mistake, not some wimpy beta. So don’t let Rufus, or anyone, make you their beta, because if you do everyone is gonna know and you’ll never be respected. Ivan made that mistake and he ain’t lived it down yet.”

  “You mean our Ivan, the Blade-dancer himself?”

  “Yep. Rufe’s finest conquest.” Uther winked, “Of course, everyone knows that.”

  “I-I-I thought it was just a rumour.”

  “Puh! Nah!” Uther woofed. “Ivan used to groom Rufus and everything. Worshipped him, he did. Only Rufe’s got a right short attention span, ‘en he? Soon as he clapped eyes on Ivan’s cousin he dropped Blade-dancer like a stone. And that only lasted five minutes before he tried to work his magic on me!”

  “You?”

  “Aye! I told him to stick it. Uther Wild-heart ain’t nobody’s beta. Nobody’s!”

  Linus looked altogether baffled and concerned.

  Uther pinched his partner’s cheek like a doting auntie.
“Just watch yourself, mate,” he cackled drily.

  As the Howlers passed by an alley, someone in a hooded cloak stepped out and boldly intercepted them. Startled, Linus almost reached for his sword, but the stranger was just a thin young wolfess, very dark, with bags under her bright green eyes.

  “Looking for fun?” she said to Uther, pulling back her hood to reveal her gaunt face and bony shoulders.

  Uther declined gruffly, “Sorry, Sweetheart.”

  The wolfess moved to Linus and placed a paw on his chest to halt him, “Please. I am cheap. Only twenty lupas.”

  Linus could scarce believe her nerve. “Don’t you know who we are?” he growled pompously, removing her paw from his person and contemptuously pushing it away.

  The wolfess defensively pulled her cloak up and shook her head a little. “I’m… from far away,” she said, in a foreign and now fearful tone. “Forgive me. Who are you?”

  “We’re Howlers,” Linus said.

  “Yes, I know this. That is why I come to you. You want fun.”

  “C-ccc-come to us?” Linus squeaked in amazement. “You come to us when you’re clearly a venom addict? Do you want to be arrested?”

  She looked down at her feet, “I… I do not know. I just need money, food. Please, anything!”

  Uther leant over and whispered in Linus’s ear, “Mate, she’s a gazer.”

  “What?”

  “Gazer.”

  Linus drew a blank gaze himself.

  Uther took his partner to one side and seethed, “Can’t you see she’s on illegal stings?”

  “Of course I can. You mean she’s a dodger… right?”

  “Nooo!” Uther woofed. “Ulf almighty, what log did you crawl out from under, woodlouse? A dodger is a wolf who’s qualified to be a Howler and knows it, but avoids being drafted and takes imperium to survive, ‘en they?”

  Linus was all at sea, “So what’s a gazer, then?”

  Uther nodded to the dewy-eyed wolfess and whispered. “That’s a gazer. Whatever she was, she’s so far gone she can’t think right for rot. Look at her, poor lass is all fur n’ bones. Probably been taking krappy street stings to keep alive. Ulf knows what’s in ‘em. If she keeps on she’ll be dead in a month.”

  Concerned, Linus returned to the wolfess, “Look, miss, whatever lies the sting dealers told you, you can’t stop the rot by taking anything except white-imperium. Besides which it’s illegal. If you’re sick you should report to the local Den for tests and maybe you too can become a Howler-”

  “No, no, no!” Uther growled, pushing Linus in the shoulder. “She’s too far gone for that, she’s a thumping gazer.”

  Linus defended, “I-I-I was just trying to help.”

  “Well, don’t.”

  “But-”

  “Just shut up a minute! I got this.”

  Glancing left and right, Uther reached into his cloak and took a fair sum of colourful Lupan notes from the inside pocket. He offered the money to the unfortunate wolfess.

  “Here, love, get yourself something to eat.”

  The gazer stared longingly at the colourful lupas.

  “Go on,” Uther urged softly. “Where’d you come from originally, the Steppes, yeah?”

  A nod, “I-I-I think so. I live in Wall Slums for some time, until I pay Watcher to get inside city. He said he would get me papers, but I never see him again.”

  Uther huffed, “Aye, I bet. Judging by your accent, you’re a Steppes wolf, though. Here, take my advice and get on the next train to Everdor instead. Ever-dor. Right? There’s always work on the Hummel plantations; they ain’t fussy. It’s clean there, see, no ash. In the fresh air n’ sunshine you’ll bounce back, as long as you stay clean. No stings, not even embers, not even when it really hurts. Do that and you might make it ten, twenny years even. Understand?”

  With a whimper of fright, the wolfess snatched the money and hurried into the alley without looking back, lest these Howlers changed their minds.

  Linus watched her go. “She didn’t even thank you.”

  “Puh!” Uther snorted. “Well, what did I just say about being soft? Doesn’t get you anywhere.”

  “Then why’d you do that?”

  “Dunno, maybe I felt sorry for her,” the petulant Uther said sarcastically, tugging at the gathered neck of his cloak and walking on without further ado, leaving his comrade to scratch his head and glance down the alley.

  Someone distant was running towards Linus – was the gazer returning to thank Uther? No, it was someone else, someone bigger, much bigger, and growing by the second as they approached at speed, a heap of a beast in a cloak and helmet, armoured legs rattling down the alley, puddles of water splashing underfoot, muscled, spotted arms swaying.

  As Linus watched a Howler emerged from a passage behind – he was obviously giving chase.

  “Uther!” Linus called, not looking away. He raised a paw to the stranger as they neared the end of the alley. “Halt! In the name of the Repub-oof!”

  Ears pricked, Uther turned around the moment a huge cloaked beast burst out the alley and barged into Linus. Much like a stray car being struck by a train, Linus was the loser. He slammed onto his back and rolled tail over head, like a giant pea bug, his shield taking the worst of the impact as it scraped over the cobbled street.

  With barely a stumble, the aggressive stranger dashed into the market, scattering traders and shoppers alike.

  “Oi, whatcha playing at?” Uther yapped. He ran to Linus and helped him up. “You all right?”

  Nodding, Linus rubbed the back of his throbbing skull. “Agh! He… he didn’t stop.”

  “I noticed. Howler was he?”

  “I don’t know. He looked like a Howler, but....”

  “Which pack, mate?”

  “I-I-I didn’t see any markings, just black and white.”

  Some echoed footsteps later and a second, unquestionable Howler emerged from the alley, this time clad all in black, save for the white cheeks of his helmet. He was tall, with snow-white fur, from what little could be seen.

  “Ivan?” Uther snorted in recognition, half-heartedly reaching out with a paw to stop him. “Oi, Captain!”

  “Don’t just stand there, Trooper!” Ivan snarled, stopping for no one. “Help me!”

  With but a moment’s thought, Uther donned his helmet and gestured furiously to Linus. “Come on, Woodlouse, something’s going down! Come on, come on!”

  “Woodlouse?” the dazed Linus seethed, securing his helmet straps about his chin as he ran.

  The athletic Uther flew ahead and was soon level-pegging with the higher-ranking Ivan as they chased the stranger, whilst Linus languished behind. Beasts of every sort kept well clear of the felon and the law as both sides sped through the covered market and into the claustrophobic maze of twisted streets beyond.

  “Where d’you want me, sir?” Uther asked Ivan, not in the least breathless as they entered the next alley in pursuit.

  “Just… do your… stuff!” Ivan panted back. “Quickly; he tried to kill Rufus!”

  “What?”

  “Just go! Use any means, go on!”

  “Aye aye, sir!” Uther snarled. “I’ll get the bastard!”

  The still-fresh Uther peeled off from his tiring comrade and started to pull away, slowly at first, but with growing speed. He tore down the alley, ears flat, paws cutting through the air. Puddles splattered and papers swirled in his wake as Uther’s body tapped into the power of the imperium woven into his muscles, bones and blood. The lagging Linus had heard rumours about him, but by Ulf was Uther fast! He made the end of the dingy alley and disappeared into the light. Ivan followed, not too far behind.

  Embarrassed at his tardiness, Linus tapped into some extra reserve of energy and hurried to remain in the race. He wasn’t built for this nonsense, he was no sprinter, a good honest fight was what he and his shield liked.

  Bursting out onto the wide-open main street, Linus looked in all directions. Riddle Den loomed to the left a
nd the nearest train station to the right; the Howlers and therefore the chase was heading to the station.

  “Halt! In the name… of the Republic!” Linus shouted, woefully maintaining pursuit.

  Far ahead, Uther laboured under his helmet, the rain lashing his body, plastering his red cloak to his muscled torso. It was hard to see. Either the rain had grown heavier, or Uther was running into it so fast as to make it feel so. He spotted his cloaked prey ascending the stained station steps; the stranger shoved an unfortunate pig porter out the way, sending trunks and suitcases spilling down the stairway.

  He’s fast for a big fella, Uther thought, but I’m faster; the fastest thing in Lupa!

  Getting his feet in the right position, Uther, with a skip and a jump, sailed up the station stairs in one great bound, the air rippling in his wake as his contorting corona reached out. Landing neatly at the top he continued as before. The rot would make him pay for this later, he knew, but pain was the price of glory.

  Into the grand station foyer, through the hustle and bustle, beasts big and small, high and low, gasping and screaming as the huge law-breaker pushed them aside and jumped the barriers. With the path already cleared Uther fared better.

  I’m gaining. So close!

  There was a train; the carriages were moving. Imperium ash swirled across the platform as the locomotive belched into action. The fugitive vanished into the clouds, but Uther spied his faint silhouette open a carriage door and climb inside. Redoubling his efforts, the Howler veered off to the left, chasing the train. Pulling a door open on the very next carriage he swung himself inside and slammed it shut.

  Silence, but for the wheels clacking on the tracks and Uther’s panting.

  Dripping with water, the Howler looked back and glimpsed Ivan arriving on the platform, only to vanish again as a pall of grey ash passed by the carriage windows.

  Surely Ivan’s missed the train; I’m on my own.

  Wait.

  Uther whirled around with a start and glared at the little beasts cowering in the carriage. He sensed it, felt it in his bones, the fuzzy crackle of a fellow imperious presence, a corona. Someone was near, someone powerful. Was it the beast he was chasing?

  “Go to the back of the train,” Uther told his lesser passengers.