Imperium Lupi

by Adam Browne

  Silvermane glanced at Janoah, then asked the pertinent question, “Will you help us, Rufus?”

  “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

  “What?”

  “My price.”

  With an exasperated sigh, Silvermane said, “What more do you want?”

  Leaning on the table Janoah hissed at Rufus, “Take the offer. An expedition is your life’s ambition, for Ulf’s sake! This is your big chance.”

  Rufus slowly turned to her. “By Ulf, Jan, do you honesty think I want ALPHA breathing down my neck whilst I am trying to catalogue the discoveries of a lifetime? Besides, you can’t even stretch to decent chairs for you own Den, let alone the cash required for an expedition.”

  Silvermane insisted, “The Alpha will back you. He has given us his direct consent to make this deal.”

  “Hah!”

  “You doubt the word of the Alpha?”

  “He’s your Alpha, not mine.”

  Janoah stood up straight, arms folded, “All right. What do you want?”

  Rufus inhaled a huge draught from his ember and blew it overhead, “That which you took from me.”

  *

  After tapping the hook a few times, Linus put the phone down as quickly as he’d picked it up.

  “Line’s dead,” he explained.

  “It’s the snow,” Heath complained. “I’ve told the district council a hundred times they need to clean the ash off the lines more often come winter. The snow sticks to it something awful and the lines break under the weight! Same every year.”

  “What now?” Sara asked.

  Linus looked around Heath’s university office, with its many papers, trinkets and fascinating specimen jars with preserved bugs floating inside like pale embryos. “You two can go home,” he said, adding, “Just leave me here.”

  “Leave you here?” Heath snorted, looking to Sara.

  “Don’t worry, I-I-I can sleep in the foyer,” Linus explained, “I mean, if that’s all right?”

  “No! No it isn’t!” the bear woofed. “No associate of my dear friend Rufus is sleeping rough, sir. The very idea! No, you shall come home with me.”

  “But-”

  “I won’t hear of it! Rufus would never forgive me. You can sleep on my sofa, how’s that?”

  Linus, eventually, nodded, “That’s v-vvv-very kind of you, Professor Heath. I’m honoured.”

  “Honoured, he says,” the bear chuckled. “It’s the least I can do for someone who’s read all my books! That’s a harder labour than my writing them, I fear.”

  Linus laughed awkwardly and scratched his neck.

  “We’d better lock up, Sara,” Heath told his young associate, fishing some keys from his waistcoat. “I’ll do the offices, you do the main hall.”

  “Aye.”

  Linus was surprised, “Don’t you have caretakers here?”

  “They’ve gone home to bed, Howler,” was Heath’s amused response. “Sara and I were only staying on in the hope ALPHA would bring Rufus back once Thorvald got onto them, but it seems he’s been put away for the night.”

  “Awful bullies they are,” Sara growled huffily, “They’re worse than the Howlers.”

  Linus looked at her.

  Glancing back at him, Sara wordlessly left the office with Heath’s keys jangling in her little paws.

  Once she had gone, Heath made excuses, “She’s a spirited girl. She doesn’t really mean anything by that.”

  “Forget it,” Linus said.

  Unbeknownst to them, Sara lingered long enough to hear what was said, before sneaking down the hallway to the main entrance, where the Great Hall was to be found. Checking inside one last time, lest a guest had somehow escaped all notice and was sleeping in a corner, Sara pulled the mighty doors to, so she could grab them both at the same time, and shut with all her might.

  The sound of ancient wood and metal slamming together reverberated down the ornate foyer.

  “Sara.”

  “Oh!”

  Turning around with a paw to her chest, Sara was greeted by a tall knightly-looking Howler, his armoured shoulders flecked with half-melted snow.

  “Tristan!” she barked, hitting him on the shoulder. “You scared me!”

  “Sorry.”

  Composing herself, Sara locked the doors. “Any news?” she asked.

  “No,” Tristan replied, nursing his shoulder. “The phones are down all over the place. Thorvald will take it up in the morning.”

  “They’ll let him go, right?”

  “Grand Howler Rufus has powerful friends. It’ll be fine.”

  “Aye.”

  Tristan looked around, “Do you still have that flyer?”

  “What? Oh, no.”

  “You destroyed it? Good.”

  “No, Rufus took it,” Sara said innocently.

  Tristan snorted in alarm, “What?”

  “Ah showed it tae him over dinner and he took it. He said Ah shouldn’t be seen with such things.”

  “Sara!”

  “What?”

  “How’s it going to look to ALPHA when they find that on him? By Ulf’s fangs, wolfess, if they didn’t have a reason to throw the book at him they do now!”

  “But… he just took it off me! Ah didn’t know he was going tae be arrested.”

  Tristan turned away and removed his helmet to run a paw over his aching head.

  Deflecting her blunder, Sara snorted after him, “Ah dunno why ye pretend tae care, anyway; everyone knows ye don’t even like him.” Giving the doors a tug to check they were locked she mumbled, “Ah bet you’d love tae see him go down the mines and never come up again.”

  With a scoff of disgust, Tristan took his leave, storming down the hall.

  Cursing her terse tongue, Sara called after him, “Tristan, come back! Tristan!”

  Hurrying after the Howler, Sara grabbed his arm and tugged him to a stop.

  “Gagh!”

  Sara immediately let go as Tristan whirled round in apparent pain, dropping his helmet in favour of clapping a paw to his shoulder.

  “What’s wrong?” Sara gasped.

  “Nothing, you just… pulled too hard,” the Howler excused.

  “Don’t be daft.”

  Tristan suffered through obvious discomfort, before admitting begrudgingly, “It was that… that bitch Janoah.”

  Sara’s eyes darted about, “Rufus’s wife?”

  The Howler nodded quickly, “I tried to stop her going in, or at least ask her why in Ulf’s name she was arresting her own husband. She blew me off the stairs.”

  “Blew you off the stairs?”

  “She packs quite the punch,” Tristan seethed, with a false laugh. “You’d never believe it to look at her.”

  Digesting all that, Sara said, “Let me see.”

  “No-”

  “Tristan.”

  “You can’t do anything!”

  “Of course I can!” Sara huffed, paws on hips. “Ah know how tae treat plasma burns.”

  Linus strode into the hall, or as much as such a short stocky wolf could stride. “Everything all right here?” he enquired, ears pricked from the sound of raised voices. “Miss Sara?”

  Tristan protectively pushed his way in front of Sara and snorted, “What’re you doing here at this time of night, Bloodfang?”

  “I could ask you the same thing, Eisbrand.”

  “This is my territory!”

  With a gulp, Linus quickly tagged on, “I meant last week, sir, when you were spying on us.”

  “Spying? Is that the thanks I get for saving your hide?”

  “I had everything under control.”

  “Hah! Right.”

  In the same manner he had her, Sara pushed in front of Tristan, even if she was a dot by comparison. “Stop it!” she yelped, looking between the Howlers. “Grow up, the both of ye!” She eventually settled on Tristan, whispering, “Don’t be so rude. He’s Rufus’s friend and a good ‘un.”

  “You can’t trust that pa
ck of-”

  “Yes, Tristan, ah can, and it’s nae your business!”

  “Have you forgotten Bruno already?” he growled, “What they did to him?”

  Sara reached up and slapped Tristan across the muzzle, hard enough to turn his head.

  There was a brief silence.

  “Go home, Tristan,” Sara said, looking down and away.

  With a last glare at Linus, Tristan retrieved his helmet from the polished floor and strode from the university, slamming the front door behind him.

  In the aftermath Linus said, “Sorry. That was my fault. He’s right, I shouldn’t be here.”

  Sara shook her head, “Tristan’s just… overprotective.”

  “Of you?”

  “Aye. He’s such an idiot sometimes.”

  Professor Heath ambled into the hall, “Ready, you two?” he said chirpily.

  “Aye,” Sara replied.

  “It’s just a short walk to my flat,” Heath told Linus.

  Linus was confused, but said nothing as Professor Heath led him from Arkady University. Locking the main doors behind them they headed out into the night, paws crunching in the deepening snow.

  Sara tagged along – and that was the confusing bit. Was she coming to Heath’s flat? Was she staying there too, or just coming along for the ride?

  “Och! Ah hate this time of year,” the little wolfess complained to Linus, amidst an overblown shiver.

  “Too cold?” he guessed, with a sniff.

  “Well, that and there’s nae bugs,” Sara replied. “They all die or hibernate, of course. We’ve had tae keep Toggle cooped up inside for days; she’s getting very frustrated.”

  Linus gave Sara a sideways glance, “Uhm, Toggle?”

  “Oh. Sorry. That’s mah bee’s name.”

  “Ah.”

  “You’ll see her in a minute,” Sara explained. “She’s in the Professor’s flat. We brought her over so we could show her off tae everyone, but it was too cold tae take her out. Olivia stayed in tae look after her.”

  “Olivia?”

  “Mah best friend.”

  Heath glanced behind, “She’s, uh… got the flu, so don’t get too close, Howler.”

  Linus joked nervously, “I-I-I just hope this flat is big enough for all of us.”

  *

  “He can’t have him!”

  “We’ve no choice.”

  “He’s mine! I found him!”

  “He’s ALPHA’s!” Silvermane snapped. “Or have you forgotten how I got you this position?”

  Janoah dipped her chin and looked away in frustration.

  Safe in the gloom of the corridor, Silvermane glanced through the one-way mirror, into the brightly-lit interrogation room. Rufus casually puffed on an ember, staring exactly where Silvermane was, meeting his very eyes, as if he could see him and Janoah through the reflective glass. Perhaps he could sense their coronas, even through the ash-infused, aura-dampening glass and walls, what with his extraordinary perceptive powers, which reminded Silvermane.

  “Besides,” he said, looking to Janoah, “Rufus found him, not you.”

  “And would’ve wasted him, sir,” Janoah growled back, “as he wastes all the talent that comes his way, even his own! Set him free? He’ll send Rafe to a… a home for the afflicted or something, to sit around turning clay pots and painting watercolours, wasting his life when he should be out protecting the Republic!”

  “Then he really is fond of the boy?”

  “As he was Ivan, Uther and all the rest he’s taken under his wing. They’re but passing interests.”

  “In the end,” Silvermane reasoned, “it’s Rafe’s choice. If he wishes to stay with ALPHA, to remain an Eisenwolf and do his duty, Rufus cannot force him otherwise. All we’re promising is an imperium pension in the event he does wish to leave, we’re not promising to convince him to take it. Are we?”

  Janoah nodded, “That’s true.”

  Silvermane cupped his paws before him, “Then we’re agreed?”

  His subordinate eventually sighed, “Yes, sir.”

  Back in they went, Silvermane quick and eager, Janoah slow and reluctant. She nibbled a claw and stood behind Silvermane whilst he nodded at the expectant-looking Rufus.

  “All right,” he said, “you’ve got a deal.”

  “Pension for life?”

  “If Rafe chooses, yes.”

  “That’s all I ask,” Rufus agreed, stubbing out his ember. “Let me see him.”

  *

  At the top of the stairwell, Heath unlocked the door and shepherded his wolfen guests inside.

  “My humble abode,” said the bear, his little eyes squinting at Linus from behind a warm smile.

  Ever-polite, the Howler removed his helmet as he walked in, blue eyes taking stock. He found himself in Heath’s living room, amidst antique sofas and chairs, a smart coffee table and a ticking grandfather clock.

  Linus was immediately drawn to the walls. Framed photos plastered every available surface as thickly as wallpaper. In most, a decidedly youthful Heath was standing in the great outdoors, with deserts, forests and even great snowy mountains looming over his sloped bear shoulders. In many of the pictures other beasts stood around him, fellow scientists and naturalists of every race, all dressed in distinctively Lupan clothing, which made them stand out like sore thumbs when posing beside native beasts in traditional garbs – hyenas on the plains, otters at a sunny beach, even a group of noble-looking elk in a deep dark forest. Sometimes the group were standing over a slain bug, a scorpion in one, a centipede in another. In one faded photo, Heath was measuring a presumably dead crab’s gigantic claw, and in another he was posing by a huge spider’s web stretched between two trees.

  There were other things to see, old shields painted with dazzling hyena patterns, crossing spears with sprays of red ribbon, and weird idols representing some kind of squat beetle god; even the carpet beneath Linus’s gaitered boots was a thing to behold, the red and gold fibres festooned with stylised insects frolicking amidst a scene of leaves and flowers. The seemingly endless pattern drew Linus in, sucking him into another world, the wild world beyond Lupa.

  “Make yourself at home, Howler,” Heath said, breaking the youth from his mental meanderings. “I’ll make us all a cup of hot chocolate before bed.”

  “Oh, uh… thank you, sir.”

  “Call me Heath,” the bear said, opening the kitchen door.

  Sara had already passed through to one of the adjoining rooms, where she turned up a lamp.

  “Olivia?” she called gently. “You awake?”

  “Sara?” someone out of view replied groggily – Olivia, Linus could only presume, wondering what manner of beast she might be. “Oh dear, I must’ve fallen asleep!” she laughed gently. “What time is it?”

  “Very late,” Sara whispered. “How’s the flu?”

  “Better,” Olivia chirped at length, adding curiously, “Is someone here?”

  “Aye, one of Rufus’s friends,” Sara explained, adding quickly, “Where’s Toggle?”

  No sooner had Sara enquired after her pet bee than Professor Heath turned up the kitchen lamp and wailed in a chiding tone, “Oh no. Tooooggle!”

  Sara sped through the lounge, giving Linus but a glance on her way to the kitchen.

  “Och!” she gasped at the door, paws clapping to cheeks.

  “Where’s Olivia?” Heath asked.

  “She was asleep.”

  “Asleep? How’d she sleep through this, it’s a disaster!”

  Linus quietly wandered over to see what the trouble was, as if, him being a Howler and all, he might be able to mend any problem these normal beasts might come across.

  He discovered a very reasonable kitchen – stove, breakfast table, airy windows and terracotta tiles – all of it smeared with what looked like jam. Various jars of all shapes and contents were strewn haphazardly across the floor, some of them broken, others intact. All the broken jars containing sweet preserves and honey looked clean, as
if they had been licked out, whilst those containing vinegar-soaked pickles and tart chutney remained where they lay, unadulterated beyond breakage. Is this the work of a deranged, sweet-toothed burglar? Linus thought.

  Leaning in a little more he discovered the culprit; a trembling, black and orange ball of fluff with its head stuck in an especially big jar.

  “A bee!” Linus woofed.

  Sara looked back at him – the Howler was smiling like an excited cub.

  Heath wasn’t. “Oh dear, oh dear, what a confounded mess,” he tutted. “I said to keep this door shut, didn’t I? You know what she’s like.”

  Sara went to pick her way through the carnage, “Toggle!”

  “Mind the glass!” Heath advised, stopping her.

  “Ah think she’s stuck, Professor.”

  Putting his helmet aside Linus said, “Here, let me.”

  Watched by Heath and Sara, the Howler crunched through the minefield of glass shards, his gaitered boots impervious to damage, approaching Toggle without trepidation.

  As Linus advanced, the bee backed into a corner and made aggressive buzzing noises.

  Bvv! Bvvvt! Bvvv!

  Her abdomen began pumping in and out from the effort.

  Hushing the frightened bee, Linus slowly crouched beside her and stroked those shiny, iridescent wings with a paw. They were smooth, yet bumpy with veins. They were also dripping with honey, much like the rest of the bee.

  Once all was calm, Linus grabbed the broken jar in both paws and gently twisted it off Toggle’s head, leaving the bee’s front end coated in a golden film of sticky honey.

  Triumphant, Linus stood up, jar in paws, “There we-”

  Bvvvvvvvv!

  Amidst blasts of air and blurring wings, Toggle flicked honey all over the walls, all over the curtains, and all over Howler Linus.

  “Toggle, stop!” Sara gasped, paws to muzzle. “Toggle!”

  Toggle stopped, but all too late. She trundled across the kitchen, her naturally armoured legs kicking aside the razor-sharp glass with impunity, leaving Linus behind to look down at himself, his fine Howler cloak and armour dripping with flecks of shiny, delicious, and horrendously sticky honey.

  “Oh dear,” he said, licking some from his nose – it really was delicious.

  “Ah’m so sorry!” the mortified Sara said. “Bad Toggle! Look what you’ve done. Bad, bad, bee!”