Imperium Lupi

by Adam Browne

“Oh really? Yet you phone Riddle Den all the time!”

  “Am I to understand I’m being spied upon?”

  “Inquiries were made; the operators have testified you ring through to Riddle regularly. Explain that.”

  Janoah dipped her chin and did so, “I’m still married to Rufus, Grand Prefect. I’ve a duty to my husband as well as ALPHA.”

  “Indeed!” Horst blustered. “Yet Rufus has been in Gelb for two months; still you call Riddle Den!” The Grand Prefect looked down his snowy muzzle at Janoah, “How do you account for that?”

  “I’ve merely been arranging to take charge of my husband’s possessions since his arrest, and… initiating divorce proceedings, as the Alpha instructed me to. It’s a lengthy process.”

  Picking up a sheet of paper Nikita said, “I believe you do not need to be proceeding further in your divorce, Prefect. You are already rid of Rufus by, as they say, default.”

  “What do you mean?” Janoah demanded, forgetting herself.

  Nikita passed the paper across to the Prefect and clasping his paws together on the long table said, “Howler Rufus was executed yesterday morning.”

  Janoah felt the floor collapse under her, felt her stomach rise into her chest. The Grand Prefects vanished from her vision, replaced by a void of inconsequence. They didn’t matter now. All she saw was the death warrant trembling in her grasp, signed and dated in red.

  No, it couldn’t be.

  Slowly, painfully, Janoah’s fingers crushed the paper, denying its existence. “There… there must be some mistake. That’s not supposed to happen-”

  “No mistake,” Nikita assured her, adding, “My sympathies, Prefect, it was… beyond ALPHA’s control.”

  Horst had no such compunctions. “It seems Rufus carried on in Gelb as he had in Lupa, thinking he’s above the law! A thief and a vagabond to the end-”

  Whop!

  Silvermane thumped a paw on the tabletop. “A little respect, if you will, sir!” he chided.

  “For a criminal, Silver?” Horst replied derisively.

  “For any fallen wolf,” the youngest grand Prefect clarified, “and those they leave behind. Rufus was a great Howler, once. Pray we don’t stray as he did.”

  “I do not need prayers to a non-existent entity to guard my integrity!” Horst snorted, breaking out an ember. Puffing confidently away he looked to Duncan; the big black wolf was looking down and to one side. Nikita too seemed to be suffering a bout of awkwardness, chin dipped and thumbs twiddling.

  It was only when Janoah’s grief-tinged sniffs reached Horst’s ears that he realised the cause of their discomfort.

  “By Ulf,” the flabby wolf marvelled, removing his ember from his wobbling jowls, “is she crying now?” He leant forward, “Do you think tears will distract us from your misconduct, Prefect Janoah?”

  “F-fff-forgive me,” Janoah snuffled. “It’s come as a shock, that’s all. I’m perfectly all right.”

  Horst remained unmoved regardless. “You will go to Riddle Den and you will re-arrest Howler Linus immediately, is that clear?” he growled.

  Janoah stayed firm. “I believe that… w-www-would be a mistake. It would only antagonise relations-”

  “These are your orders, you arrogant wolfess!” Horst bellowed, rapping the tabletop so vigorously his multiple medals danced on his chest. “You will carry them out or be dismissed from ALPHA in disgrace, if not fed to the ants like your husband before you!”

  “No!” Janoah shrieked, clasping at her chest and bending double to stay her heart from being ripped away. “They didn’t! They couldn’t! Not like that! Not my Rufus!”

  “What? Didn’t you know? That’s how they do it in Gelb. They’re very old-fashioned.”

  “Ahohohooooow, nooooo!”

  Silvermane rose. In silence and watched by all he marched around the table, physically pulled Janoah to her feet and shepherded the near-collapsed wolfess from the chamber.

  Once the door had closed and Janoah’s howling had faded, Horst rolled back in his creaking new-materials chair. “That fool, Silver,” he derided. “She’s got him wrapped around her little finger. A few tears and he falls at her knees. Well, that won’t work on us!”

  Duncan grumbled quietly, “That was a low-blow, Horst.”

  “One cannot stoop lower than her!” Horst countered, prodding the tabletop. “That wolfess has no love for ALPHA or our ideals. All she craves is power and she’ll do anything to get it. Silver doesn’t see it, he’s dazzled by her wit, but I am not.”

  “Och! But tae break the news tae her like that.”

  “She needed to be told,” Nikita grunted, adding, “Better than reading it in paper.” He moved on, addressing Horst, “This wolfess Josef was trying to get hold of, is she true Eisenwolf candidate, or am I being made fool of here by Josef?”

  Horst blew a vapour ring. “Who knows? But do you know what I think? I think Janoah was happy to let Linus get rid of the competition,” he said matter-of-factly. “I think he might’ve even intercepted the girl and murdered her on Janoah’s orders.”

  “Murdered her?” Nikita scoffed.

  “Yes. Think about it. Janoah’s got an Eisenwolf in her pocket, a completely loyal killing machine she could turn loose on anyone… even us.”

  “Och!” Duncan woofed. “Come on, now!”

  “It’s true!” Horst insisted. “She doesn’t want anyone else to find another Eisenwolf and threaten her power, that’s why she obstructed Josef. Arrest Howler Linus and rack him, Grand Prefect Nikita, he’ll soon sing like a cricket in heat – if the girl is alive he’ll know where she went-”

  “Niet,” Nikita disagreed in his native tongue.

  “Pardon?”

  “No. You must let this go, Horst.”

  “But-”

  “The Alpha has much to do and cannot be disturbed by these internal squabbles! Janoah will go to him to get her way, believe me, and she’s right, we cannot provoke the Bloodfangs so close to summit. Is bad for Adal’s negotiations.”

  “Yes… yes of course.”

  Nikita shuffled some papers. “Go tell Janoah the good news,” he said, clearing his throat. “We will leave her little Bloodfang friend alone... for now.”

  “Me?” Horst woofed, his ember falling into his lap.

  “Yes. You pressed her, you will let her down.”

  “But you gave Josef his warrant, Nikita-”

  “I am representing the Alpha here. I cannot personally give way to a Prefect Captain. You must take this fall.”

  “But I can’t! Not after all that. I’ll look ridiculous.”

  “Swallow your pride, Horst. Is not so difficult.”

  “Grand Prefect Nikita, please don’t make me humiliate myself in front of that… that-”

  “Oh for crying out loud, Ah’ll do it!” Duncan groaned, throwing his paws up in the face of Horst’s blubbering. Slamming his chair under the table and proffering a tiny salute he took his leave, “Excuse me, sir.”

  Nikita saluted gratefully back, “Duncan.”

  Striking through the double doors and down the hall, Duncan found Silvermane standing over Janoah in the waiting room. The wolfess sat knock-kneed in a chair weeping into a kerchief whilst Silvermane nursed one of her shoulders with a paw. It was a pitiable sight.

  Entering the waiting room, Duncan whipped a finger at the on-looking secretary, indicating for her to leave. The baffled secretary saluted and vacated the room via the nearest door.

  “Ah’m sorry for your loss, Prefect,” Duncan said, walking over to Janoah, paws tucked behind him. “Ah should tell ye, ALPHA has nae power over what happens at Gelb. It’s run by a wolf appointed by the Den Fathers. Nae even the Alpha himself has any say. All we do is bring forth the evidence, any punishment is still in the paws of the packs.”

  “Yes, I-I-I know,” Janoah heaved, regaining some semblance of composure. “Thank you.”

  Duncan nodded a little. He glanced at Silvermane, then delivered his message. “It’s b
een decided tae leave that Bloodfang lad alone. So don’t worry about all that.”

  “Linus?” Silvermane clarified.

  “Aye, that’s the one.”

  “Why? Horst wanted him racked a minute ago.”

  “Nikita wants tae keep everyone sweet whilst he’s in charge,” Duncan said, proffering a disarming smile, “and nae bother the Alpha with ‘internal squabbles’.”

  Silvermane checked his pocket watch. “It’s a little late for that, I’m afraid.”

  “Oh aye?”

  It was then that the door the secretary had exited through swung open, injecting a small, if robust brown and white wolf into the waiting room. He was cloaked in black and sported a red-imperium medal beneath his brooch – the Imperium Heart.

  Silvermane and Duncan turned smartly to him and saluted ALPHA style.

  “My Alpha,” they said, in near-unison.

  Janoah fought to stand and salute. “My Alpha,” she said resolutely.

  The Alpha saluted back and strode over to them all, assessing the situation on the way. “What’s the problem, Silver?” he demanded.

  “Nothing, my Alpha; the situation has been resolved.”

  “Resolved!” the Alpha woofed, trailing off as he noticed Janoah’s teary face, “I’m glad to… hear it. Prefect, whatever’s the matter?”

  Janoah dipped her chin.

  “Rufus Bloodfang is dead, my Alpha,” Silvermane volunteered on her behalf. “Prefect Janoah is understandably distressed-”

  “Dead?”

  “Yes, my Alpha.”

  The Alpha glanced at Duncan; though Silvermane and Janoah knew Rufus had been sent to Gelb on a mission, Duncan did not, and could not, know.

  “But it’s only been two months,” the Alpha said. “That’s nothing to a wolf like him. I thought he’d make it.”

  Silvermane explained, “I regret to say he was executed, my Alpha… by ant.”

  “You’re sure?”

  A nod.

  The Alpha blinked as he digested the news, but remained otherwise composed. “I see,” he said, turning away and strolling about the room, paws tucked behind him. “I knew Gelb was harsh but… I thought such practices had passed into the history books,” he sighed, looking to Janoah. “Prefect, you can be sure I’ll raise this act of savagery during the Pack Summit. Such a wantonly cruel execution is hardly the mark of a civilised society anymore. If a beast must die for his crimes, let it be by the sword or the pistol, and his body returned to his family for proper rites. For what it’s worth you have my sympathies.”

  Janoah dipped her chin, “Thank you, my Alpha. You’re most kind.”

  “You should take some time away from your duties-”

  “No!” Janoah barked, adding quieter, “No thank you, my Alpha. Not this side of the Pack Summit. Lives are depending on all of us.”

  “I see. Are you sure you can carry on?”

  “Absolutely. I… I would rather work than dwell on it.”

  The Alpha nodded, “Very well, Prefect,” and turned to the others. “Is that all, gentlebeasts?”

  “Yes, my Alpha,” Silvermane confirmed. “My apologies for disturbing you.”

  “Not at all, Silvermane. If you’ve no need of me I’ll return to my negotiations. Good evening.”

  With a salute the Alpha was gone again, passing as swiftly as a spring shower.

  The Alpha’s sympathies couldn’t wash away Janoah’s hatred and sadness. She collapsed back into the chair, wishing the ground would swallow her up.

  “I always knew it might end this way,” she said blandly, adding with a false chuckle, “Rufus knew it too. We made that quite clear to him, didn’t we Silvermane?”

  Worried Janoah might reveal in front of Duncan that Rufus’s arrest and downfall had been staged, Silvermane made a surreptitious cutting motion to his throat and growled with intent. “You should go to your quarters and rest, Prefect; you’ve had a trying day. I’ll speak to the Alpha about what’s happened later and see what else he has to say about it. All right?”

  “Yes,” Janoah said wearily, “Yes, of course.”

  Glancing at Duncan, Silvermane helped Janoah from the chair. They didn’t take two steps towards the door before the secretary Duncan had dismissed entered with a small brown envelope. Saluting all present she cleared her throat and presented the envelope to Janoah.

  “A telegram for you, Prefect.”

  Janoah waved it away, “Leave it on my desk, for Ulf’s sake.”

  “It’s marked urgent, marm,” the secretary insisted, adding in a questioning manner, “Perhaps it’s something to do with what’s happened?”

  Passing the secretary a sideways look, Janoah snatched the envelope and tore it open. Unfurling the paper within she read the simple message at a glance before Silvermane could peek.

  ‘HE’S ALIVE. YOUR EMPEROR.’

  Janoah immediately screwed it up.

  “What is it?” Silvermane asked.

  “Rubbish, sir,” Janoah dismissed, walking briskly to the door, the old bounce in her gait returning. “An unreliable informant,” she explained. “I’m… going to collect Rufus’s things from Riddle Den. I may as well get it over with.”

  *

  “I can’t believe you! How could you be so stupid?”

  “I thought you’d be pleased! By Ulf, do you want me to put him back?”

  “Of course I don’t!”

  “Well then!”

  Janoah had to break out an ember before she broke Amael’s neck. Puffing clouds of spent imperium like Rafe in his iron suit, she marched around Riddle Den’s Elder Chamber gathering her thoughts and composing herself at this dangerous time.

  “What about Ivan and Uther?” she realised, whirling on the seated Amael.

  Reclined in his chair behind the table, Elder Amael spread his grey paws, “What about them?”

  “They’re doing this for Rufus, not you! They think they’re killing Vito to make you Den Father so you can get him out! That was the deal you struck with them.”

  “So I’ve got Rufus out early. Those two don’t need to know this side of doing their job. I couldn’t get word to them anyway; they could be anywhere in Everdor.”

  Janoah shook her head, “They won’t forgive you for using them, Amael.”

  Amael huffed, “They’ll have to. I’ll be in charge of Lupa by the time they get back – if they get back.”

  “I see. Is this how you treat loyal wolves?”

  “Loyal? Don’t make me laugh, Jan. They’re going to murder their Den Father. Some loyalty!”

  “It’s for the greater good-”

  “You just said yourself it’s for Rufus,” Amael corrected bitterly. “For their love of him, their master, it has nothing to do with ‘greater goodness’, even less me.” He poured himself a stiff drink and snorted, “Ivan looks at me the same way he would a tick in his fur.” Then, knocking brandy back the, he gulped and exhaled, “He’s a strange one.”

  “Don’t you see? You’ve justified his attitude by going behind his back!” Janoah scoffed. “He’ll never forgive you.”

  Amael said nothing to that.

  Janoah sighed and sat opposite him. “Fine, so Rufus is with Nurka. Now what’re we do?”

  “Nothing. The hyenas will look after him until we’re in control of the city and he can return to Lupa safely. He’ll be right at home in the meantime, faffing around in the wilds with those barbarians. Right?”

  “I imagine.”

  “And on his return he’ll have his expedition to wherever he wants to go. Isn’t that what you want for him? What you’ve pestered me for all this time?”

  Janoah nodded a little, “Yes.”

  “Well then! Don’t complain.”

  Amael watched Janoah for a while, smouldering away, rubbing her upper arm with her free paw.

  “I’m… sorry if I scared you,” Amael said, just about squeezing an apology past his pride. “His execution had to look genuine. Rufus was told what to expect
, the Warden made things quite clear, but I couldn’t tell anyone else.”

  Janoah took a deep breath and exhaled, “Well, you certainly fooled me.”

  Amael smiled, “And through your reaction everyone else. Now, when I present Rufus alive and well, his every admirer will fall at my feet in gratitude. He has the love of the little beasts and the hyenas, not to mention half the learned beasts in Lupa. His endorsement will go a long way towards maintaining peace in the new order.”

  “You’re not the dullard you look,” Janoah chuckled.

  Amael frowned a moment, then laughed heartily.

  Sharing a giggle, Janoah slowly let her mirth die away and cocked her head to one side. She seemed to have something on her mind still.

  “What’s wrong?” Amael enquired.

  “Nothing.”

  “I can see it on your face. You can’t fool old Balbus.”

  “I thought you weren’t ‘old’, Elder.”

  Another chuckle and another drink.

  Janoah waited a while before declaring afresh, “No more secrets.”

  Amael gulped his second brandy, “Secrets?”

  “I can’t help you if you surprise me at every turn and leave me out of your affairs,” Janoah explained. “Not as much as I would like, anyway.”

  “You do enough.”

  “I could do more, so much more!”

  “It’s for your protection, Jan,” Amael said, dipping his chin a little. “This isn’t over yet. Not by a long shot. ALPHA could still march me out of here and rack me, and Ulf knows what I might say. They’ve arrested one of us already. He’s low down on the ladder, but still… it’s a worry for us all.”

  Janoah frowned, “Who?”

  “Tristan Eisbrand.”

  “Ah… Yes, I saw him.”

  “Which one of those ALPHA bastards snatched him off the street? Was it that fat maggot Horst?”

  “No idea,” Janoah lied, shrugging. “I didn’t realise he was one of yours. If I’d known I could’ve warned him.”

  Amael grunted.

  Janoah stood up and climbed clean over the Elder Table to sit in Amael’s lap. “See what I mean?” she cooed, stroking his furrowed brow. “It’s time you let me in, Amael. By Ulf the hyenas know more about your plans than I do. Those barbarians coming before me; how is that fair?”