Imperium Lupi

by Adam Browne

  The nurse looked on, eyes darting, searching. She put the facts together. “You’ve been training again, haven’t you? You’ve not been back two weeks and you’ve been sneaking down the gym. Trying to impress Janoah, are we? Well I’m not impressed. Not one bit. You’re killing yourself!”

  A wolf popped up from behind the low wall; not very high, being a short, brown wolf with a white face. “Watch that bedside manner, Nurse Stroud,” he advised, perchance slightly irreverent.

  Meryl went momentarily white in the face herself! She raised her paw, ALPHA-style. “Yes, sir. I-I-I mean-”

  “I thought our Eisenwolf had been recuperating on the Graumeer?” the wolf said, perplexed as to Rafe’s condition.

  “Well… he was, but… Grand Prefect Horst insisted we return before Rafe was fully rested.”

  “Oh?”

  “He was doing so well there. He needs rest, that’s all it is-”

  “We at ALPHA have precious little time to rest, Miss Stroud, I myself haven’t had a week off in… six years.”

  “Then perhaps you should set an example, sir?” Meryl scolded.

  The white-faced wolf raised his pale brows at Meryl’s cheek and chuckled. “Perhaps you’re right.” Glancing at the pain-wracked Rafe, who was by now on his knees, he reached into his cloak pocket and set a sting on the wall. “This is one example I shouldn’t set, but… please, take this for our Eisenwolf. He clearly needs it and I’ve been feeling quite buoyant of late.”

  Meryl’s eyes quivered with uncertainty, “But-”

  “Please, I insist.”

  “That would be illegal-”

  “This isn’t a test. Take it. Just don’t tell anyone.”

  Meryl caved in and snatched the sting from atop the wall, “Thank you, my Alpha. Thank you so much.”

  The Alpha batted Meryl’s gratitude away and turned to leave.

  “Oh,” he chirped, clicking his fingers, “I was thinking about ordering some plants for the grounds come the spring. Too dreary around here, don’t you agree? Lavender, perhaps. You’ll plant them for us, won’t you Miss Stroud?”

  “Uh, yes, my Alpha. Gladly!”

  “Excellent.”

  Once the Alpha had strolled across the grounds, Meryl tore open the sting and administered it to Rafe via the arm. She held him and stroked his brow as the relief surged through his body, until he came back to her, looked up at her sweet face.

  “Was that him?” he panted, standing up and peering over the wall. “The Alpha?”

  “Yes,” Meryl whispered. “He gave you his sting, though he shouldn’t have.”

  “Yeah, I know,” Rafe said, thinking. “Why’d he do that?”

  “I don’t know, but we mustn’t tell anyone.”

  “I won’t.”

  The nurse took her patient’s paw, “Come on, you need to have a lie down.”

  “No, I’m all right now.”

  “Rafe, for goodness sake-”

  “Lying down makes me feel worse, Meryl! Best keep moving. Ask Janoah, she’ll tell you it’s the same for her.”

  “Well, all right, but no training. Not until your rations come in.”

  “Of course not.”

  Leading Rafe though the austere ALPHA grounds, Meryl held out a paw, “It’s starting to rain again. Oh, it’s been so horrid since we got back. It was lovely at the seaside.”

  “Yeah. Lupa’s krap, ‘en it?”

  “Rafe!” Meryl scolded, then sniggered. “You’re not wrong.”

  Before they made the double doors to enter the shelter of HQ, Silvermane exploded from said doors.

  “Rafe!” he panted, saluting. “Time to suit up, Eisenwolf, ALPHA needs you.”

  “What for, sir?”

  “THORN is raiding a refinery down in Riddle District. Janoah’s there, she needs backup-”

  “No!” Meryl snarled.

  “Excuse me?” Silvermane woofed.

  “I absolutely forbid it, Grand Prefect. Rafe’s too ill!”

  “Ill? He’s just been on holiday, hasn’t he?”

  “That’s neither here nor there. He had an attack a few minutes ago and he’s out of stings. You can’t put him back in that… that horrible eisenpelz suit, I won’t allow it!”

  “Miss Stroud-”

  “I’ll go to the Alpha if I have to!”

  Silvermane’s nostrils flared. “I wouldn’t try going over my head, young lady,” he warned silkily, “not unless you want a very short, sharp career here at ALPHA-”

  “Oi, that’s enough!” Rafe barked, adding, “Sir.” He turned to Meryl, taking her aside, “I’ve gotta go; Jan needs me.”

  “Rafe-”

  “It’ll be all right; got the Alpha’s sting in me step, ‘en I? He must believe in me. You’ve got to believe in me too, Meryl. I’ll never make a proper Prefect if you don’t.”

  At length, Meryl nodded.

  With a final wink and click of the cheek, Rafe took off with Silvermane, leaving his nurse standing alone, thankful that the Lupan drizzle masked her burgeoning tears.

  Part IV: LUPICIDE

  Diary Excerpt 3

  This is the last I’ll write before returning from the Summit, as I will be stowing this incriminating diary somewhere no Bloodfang Provost or ALPHA Prefect will find it. I am running the risk of arrest, even imprisonment, but I cannot stand by whilst Olivia is pressed into the Howlers, or perhaps a worse fate if Josef’s record is anything to go by. Sara is convinced that Josef helped disappear her old friend Bruno Claybourne, a wolf who was himself very strongly afflicted – a pure-blood perhaps.

  What ultimately became of Bruno, Sara doesn’t know. The Bloodfangs assert he was killed, run down by a car whilst fleeing the Politzi, but Sara and Olivia both agree the story spun by the newspapers was an obvious fabrication. Bruno was no criminal. In fact, he didn’t even know he was a dodger! Remarkably his adoptive rabbit father, Casimir, administered him venom on the sly. Not by stings, Sara claims, but by mixing it in cough syrup, which Bruno always took for his ash allergy. The sweetness of the syrup must have masked the bitter taste of white-imperium. Sara also claims the body she identified was a fake, or at least not Bruno. It all sounds incredible, but less so in the light of Josef’s efforts to snatch Olivia and then bring me down for daring to get in his way. I’ve asked Werner what he knows about this Bruno, but he refused to be drawn, which could mean nothing, or a lot. There is more going on between that hog’s ears than most realise, just not too much, I hope.

  If Bruno is alive, Sara has yet to receive a letter from him. Considering how he would always forward telephone numbers and addresses whenever he moved before, he is either dead, unable to communicate, or, at best, protecting Sara. If he was inducted, as Sara suspects, he could have forgotten her. I was fortunate that my own induction left my mind intact; I had a terrible time of it.

  Regardless, Sara is determined Olivia not be snatched away too, whatever Bruno’s fate.

  There’s nothing we can do about Tristan’s arrest. Heath feels sure he will be released once Thorvald presses ALPHA, but if he has been working with THORN then should he be freed? I hope Janoah is mistaken; I have never known her to be.

  Guilty or not, Sara is beside herself. She blames Tristan’s arrest on letting him go back for Toggle, which he did only to appease Sara; he must care for her more than she thinks, and perhaps she him. I told Sara, and firmly believe it, that if ALPHA wanted to take Tristan in, they were going to arrest him sooner or later wherever he was. It’s not her fault. They arrested Rufus right in front of Den Father Thorvald, after all.

  Red-mist’s execution is hard to fathom. I don’t want to believe it, it feels as unreal as his arrest, yet Janoah was in Riddle Den just yesterday for the reading of his will. She left tearfully despite carrying out his arrest herself. That wolfess is an enigma to me.

  Still, it seems Rufus really is gone.

  As for Toggle, her whereabouts remain a mystery. I did not see her in ALPHA HQ, nor think to ask Janoah. I�
��ve had to convince Sara against sneaking back to the flat, lest that entangles her further with Tristan; he would not want Sara arrested, I’m sure. Besides, ALPHA will have turned the flat over and found anything so obvious as a giant bee. Most likely Janoah has guessed Toggle belongs to Heath, she’s no fool. I just hope she had the heart to return her to Arkady University rather than have Josef dispose of her, or allow him run some perverse experiment. Heath says Josef was kicked out of Arkady on ethical grounds, though he would not be specific.

  Still no word from Uther or Ivan. Whatever they’re up to, I hope they’re in less trouble than I am.

  Well, everything is in place. Werner has supplied the papers and disguises the girls will need, and we’ve invented a convincing cover-story between us all. I just hope Vladimir doesn’t see right through me. That wolf has a mind and a manner like no other. He is not malicious, and has in fact cut me some slack when he should have sent me to be flogged, or worse, but I do not know how far he can be pushed, even less fooled.

  Next stop, Hummelton. Ulf willing I will return to write on these pages again.

  Howler Linus Bloodfang Mills

  Chapter 35

  Vladimir Oromov loitered on the platform under the miserable morning drizzle, clad in his Grand Howler mantle of silver helmet and white cloak. Amael Balbus stood just ahead and to the right, flanked by his Den Guards, his red cloak edged with white, his helmet and armour beautified with gold and silver as befitted an Elder.

  Underneath the glorious, incorruptible gold plating that harked back to olden times, Amael’s armour was made of modern eisenglanz alloys, as was Vladimir’s and any other Howler. The gold and silver was but an electroplated façade, for show, as with so many things wolfen. Even the act of standing out here in the rain when everyone could be snug inside the station foyer amounted to nothing more than theatre. A little rain? Puh! The Bloodfangs of Riddle District were unconcerned, or so Amael wanted those aboard the Elder Train to think as it eased into Riddle Station. Vladimir couldn’t help but suspect everyone would instead think Amael an idiot as his dozen or so drowned Riddle District wolves dripped ashen water all over the Elder Train’s glorious interior, ruining carpet and upholstery in their wake.

  Vladimir felt a stirring in his corona. “There you are, Mills,” he hummed without turning around. “I was starting to think you’d been arrested again on your way back from the toilet.”

  “No, Grand Howler.”

  “The Elder Train waits for no wolf. We’d have left you behind, which, considering your reputation of late, might’ve been wise.”

  “Yes, Grand Howler.”

  Linus Mills took position slightly behind and to the left of Vladimir, just within the Grand Howler’s peripheral vision. The young wolf stood chest out, hood up, shield at his back, his sodden cloak sticking to his thickly muscled frame and every impressive contour. Was Linus becoming aware of his own imposing presence?

  “Urrhem,” Linus grunted, clearing his throat, “E-e-excuse me Grand Howler.”

  No, guess not.

  “Yes?” Vladimir sighed, averting his gaze to the ash-streaked rails running from horizon to grim horizon. “What do you want now?”

  “Uh, well… it’s… uhm….”

  Vladimir almost sang, “Spit it out, Linus.”

  Before Linus could, another voice interjected.

  “Grand Howler Vladimir?” they said, in a strong and yet distinctly feminine tone.

  Vladimir whirled round to discover a second Howler standing confidently beside Linus, tall and slender, not least compared to the stocky blonde wolf. She, for she had the shape of a she to accompany the voice, was wearing a broadly-striped red and white cloak – the mark of a Howler Cub, a Bloodfang Howler still attending the academy. Odd.

  “I told you to wait inside,” Linus said to the newcomer, before turning to Vladimir. “I’m sorry, sir, this recruit accosted me in the foyer. I couldn’t get rid of her, that’s why I was delayed.”

  “Accosted you?” Vladimir woofed, sighing, “By Ulf’s fangs, Linus, you’re supposed to be my adjutant and you can’t even deal with a mere Cub.”

  “Sorry sir. She’s very persistent.”

  “Is she, by Ulf?”

  The ‘persistent’ recruit performed a salute, fist to chest then out, impeccably done, and removed her helmet, revealing a perfect brown-furred wolfen visage. “Howler Cub Livia reporting, Grand Howler Oromov,” she said, fluttering her imperious violet eyes, “and may I express what an honour this is-”

  “Stow it, Cub,” Vladimir snorted. “Flattery will get you nowhere. Explain yourself this instant.”

  Howler Cub Livia bowed a little, “Forgive me, Grand Howler, I wouldn’t presume to flatter so great a wolf as you. I was under the impression you would be expecting us, however.”

  “Us?”

  “My classmate and I, Grand Howler,” Livia said, gesturing to the station foyer behind where another rather dumpy-looking Howler Cub paced nervously to and fro. “We’re journalists from the academy newspaper, The Wesp. We were hoping to write an article on the Pack Summit, you see, particularly from a Bloodfang standpoint.”

  Silence.

  The wolfess raised her chin, “Howler Uther assured us that he would pass on our request to his Grand Howler and that it would be possible for us to accompany you if we turned up on the day.”

  “Uther!” Vladimir huffed, rolling his eyes. “Tell me, Cub, did you by chance bump into this ‘Uther’ in a Common Grounds bar?”

  “Why yes, Grand Howler, during our term holiday. We met him several times.”

  “Of course you did.”

  “He was most kind.”

  “Of course he was.”

  Linus chipped in, “I’ve already explained that Uther hasn’t the authority to grant any such thing, sir, and that he was most likely referring to Grand Howler Rufus, not you.”

  “No doubt he was,” Vladimir agreed, saying to Livia, “I believe you’ve been had my unfortunate wolfess.”

  “Had, Grand Howler?” she squeaked.

  “Yes. Now be on your way, please.”

  “But-”

  “That’s an order, recruit. Now get out of my sight before I lodge a complaint to your tutors over this brazen breach of protocol.”

  Looking to Linus a moment, as if imploring for aid, Livia saluted and about-faced back to the station foyer.

  There followed an awkward, rain-flecked silence. Linus looked between Vladimir and the retreating wolfess several times before plucking up his courage. “If I m-mmm-may, sir,” he stammered. “Perhaps it’d be a good idea to let them come along after all.”

  Turning his back to Elder Amael in an attempt to guard his voice, Vladimir grunted surreptitiously, “What? Are you mad? As if I’ve not got enough to worry about already without some stupid whelps tripping me over.”

  “But to send them away like that after Uther promised them so much.”

  “What of it? He’s a rake and Rufus was worse. Their word means nothing.”

  “Even so, they might write something terrible about Riddle District, about you even.”

  “Humph! Let them. I’ll put an end to their careers before they’ve even begun.”

  “Yes, sir, but… what they wrote would still be in circulation regardless,” Linus reasoned. “It might look bad, especially for Elder Amael when he’s trying to secure the pack’s leadership.” The young Howler shrugged, “Surely it’d be better if they went away satisfied?”

  “Humph!”

  Linus kept going, “I’ll happily take charge of them. They can use my cabin.”

  Vladimir suddenly glared down upon the stocky blonde wolf beside him as if he’d that very moment pupated from a writhing plump golden grub into a different caste of creature, a lean and dangerous stinging insect.

  “What’re you playing at, boy?” the Grand Howler growled darkly.

  “Pardon, sir?”

  The Grand Howler cuffed Linus across the head. “How can you so be so
stupid? Ungrateful wretch!”

  “Sir?” Linus piped innocently.

  Not fooled for a moment, Vladimir grabbed the scruff of Linus’s cloak and yanked him away from Amael’s earshot. “Who’re they to you? Speak!”

  “Sir, I protest!”

  “Spies are they?”

  “No, sir!”

  “THORN activists? Are you throwing yourself behind that shower after everything I’ve done for you?”

  Elder Amael cut in with his neck-tingling tenor, “What’s going on, Oromov?”

  Vladimir stood to attention, releasing Linus. “Nothing, Elder Balbus,” the former insisted.

  “Doesn’t sound like nothing,” Amael reckoned, barely turning away from the tracks, “Who was that girl?”

  “Nobody. Just a Howler Cub, Elder.”

  “She’s a student journalist, Elder, for The Wesp,” Linus piped up, passing Vladimir a sideways glance, “She wanted to write an article on you.”

  “An article on me?” Amael gruffed humorously.

  “Yes, Elder, reporting your time at the Summit-”

  “I sent her away,” Vladimir grunted.

  “Then bring her back.”

  “Elder?”

  “Are your ears rotting already, Oromov? Let the poor girl come and talk to me.”

  “Yes, Elder… of course.”

  Vladimir sent Linus after Livia by slapping him in the chest with the back of a paw.

  Unconsciously rubbing his chest, Linus hesitated a moment before tramping across the puddle-strewn platform to the dripping marbled foyer. Vladimir watched him chat with the Cubs awhile, wishing he could hear.

  Linus returned with the Cubs in tow, one tall, one short, shorter even than him. They stood to attention and smartly saluted Amael, the taller one doing a better job than the short and it was to her Amael seemed drawn, perhaps only because she had removed her helmet.

  “I’m told you youngsters write for your student paper,” Amael sniffed soberly, paws behind back.

  “Yes, Elder Balbus,” Livia replied.

  “And you wish to write an article on me.”

  “It would be an honour, Elder.”