Imperium Lupi

by Adam Browne

“But how can we? We’ve nothing left. No chances!”

  “We have Rafe.”

  “Oh my Alpha, he’s just one wolf-”

  “He could upturn this entire train if I asked him.”

  “You mean if Janoah asked him,” Horst grumbled. Reading the Alpha’s angry face he continued, “Besides if we’re left here so is Rafe, and he’s in no fit state to do anything anyway-”

  The carriage door opened and Janoah entered, saluting casually.

  The Alpha saluted back, “How’s Rafe?”

  “Feverish, but recovering,” she claimed guardedly.

  “The fool, why did he run off like that?” Horst derided predictably. “Is he utterly mad now?”

  “Hardly, Grand Prefect, Rafe wished only to protect weaker beasts and uphold the law, as we all should,” Janoah defended with equal punctuality. “He wasn’t to know Ivan Bloodfang isn’t a wolf to trifle with.”

  “How do you know Ivan attacked him?” Horst said, walking over and raising his flabby chin.

  “Because Uther didn’t,” Janoah replied, “which leaves Blade-dancer as the only suspect capable.” She went on, “I know Amael sent him and Uther on a secret mission some months ago. He said it was to counter THORN activities, but I knew it must be something else. It appears he sent them to ambush Vito. Amael must’ve known the rotten old letch would bathe in the springs, as always, and in relative privacy because he likes to invite a ‘guest’ to join him, which just so happened to be Linus Mills.”

  “How do you know all this?”

  “Deduction, Grand Prefect. It’s what I’d have done if I were Amael and wanted to remove Vito.”

  “I see,” Horst mused aloud. “Strange that Linus was with Vito, of all wolves. He seems to be in all the wrong places of late, and you always seem ready to bail him out. What should I deduce from that?”

  “Vito chose Mills; we all saw it,” Janoah dismissed, “no amount of planning by any wolf could make Vito pick his own assassin. No, Mills played no part in this except to run Uther down for which we should be grateful. He put aside personal friendship for justice. Linus Mills is a true Howler and nothing short of a hero.”

  “Hero!”

  “Of the Republic,” Janoah insisted coolly, studiously turning to the Alpha. “About transport, my Alpha-”

  “I’m not finished yet,” Horst growled.

  “I am!” Janoah snarled sharply, continuing before Horst could erupt at her insolence, “My Alpha, if you’re willing to compromise, I think we can still get to the Summit in time and honourably.”

  The Alpha’s brown ears pricked. Raising a paw at a spluttering Horst to silence him he said to Janoah, “Go on.”

  Janoah glanced at Horst then said, “Release Tristan Eisbrand.”

  “What?” Horst woofed at once, then further, “Why?”

  Janoah explained, “Den Father Thorvald loves him as a son. The Eisbrand train is due to pass; no doubt we can flag them down and strike a deal – Tristan’s freedom for a ride to the Summit. Thorvald’s an honourable wolf; he’ll either refuse or comply, not cheat us.”

  Horst spread his paws, “But Tristan’s a conspirator! You went out of your way to arrest him yourself!”

  “A mere worker drone in their busy hive we can step over for the opportunity to squash Amael.” On that brusque retort Janoah implored Adal, “My Alpha, we must attend the Summit at any cost. Whatever happens I assure you Rafe will do what he can to mitigate the loss of life and bring the conspirators to justice, but he can only do that if he’s present.”

  Adal borrowed Horst’s words, “He’s but one wolf, Janoah.”

  “But an Eisenwolf, sir.”

  A pause.

  Janoah huffed, “I signed up to ALPHA to make Lupa a safe, just place. Rafe goes through all his pains for the same. Let’s not give up and let everything we’ve worked for slip away. We must fight, to the bitter end. We must, my Alpha!”

  The Alpha’s white face remained as placid and still as a porcelain mask throughout Janoah’s impromptu speech.

  “Agreed,” he replied. “Though it pains me to lower myself to illegal backdoor dealing like some decrepit Den Father, I’ll do as you ask… for Lupa.”

  “Thank you, my Alpha.”

  Janoah lingered; Adal could see something was on the tip of her tongue.

  “Is there something else I can do for you, Prefect?” he enquired amiably.

  Janoah came out with it. “Give Uther to me, my Alpha.”

  “Give him to you?”

  “Let me interrogate him. In private. As an old comrade I know him better than anyone here. I can persuade him to testify against Amael.”

  The Alpha came across sterner than usual. “There’ll be no deals with an assassin, Janoah. Howler Uther will pay the consequences for his crime whether he helps us or not.”

  “No deals, my Alpha, but Uther will say nothing if I don’t intervene. I know him. He’s too strong.”

  Horst scoffed, “No one is unbreakable.”

  “Yes,” Janoah agreed, “but you won’t beat a fighter like Uther into confessing. He has no family you can threaten to arrest and we’ve no rack back there either.”

  Horst leant close to Janoah’s left ear, “Rack him? We’ll pull out his claws, one by one, like in the good old days.”

  Flicking her ear, Janoah replied, “Grand Prefect, with respect, we know what Uther did and can guess at who told him to do it. What we need from him now is his future malleability so that when this all comes to trial he’ll take the stand and indict Amael. How will it look if he hobbles into the box malnourished and crippled? How will ALPHA look? No, we must use reason and appeal to Uther’s conscience.”

  “Conscience? That foul-mouthed, bed-leaping, murderous guttersnipe doesn’t have one!”

  “If that were so he’d have shot Linus as well, but he spared him over sentiment which Ivan didn’t share because Ivan is not such a fool – Linus saw and heard everything.”

  “So it seems. Perhaps we should pull out Linus’s claws too?”

  With a roll of her eyes, Janoah implored the Alpha, “Let me work on Uther, my Alpha. I’ll get him to sign a confession and more besides.”

  A nod and a salute, “Do as you will. It hardly matters this side of the Summit anyway.”

  “Thank you.”

  Once Janoah had taken her leave for the next carriage, Horst seethed through his fangs, “You give her too much, my Alpha!”

  “I give her no more than her talent requires,” Adal replied, standing up, paws on desk. “My dear friend, I suggest you channel your energies away from nursing your jealousies and redirect them towards our survival, because none of this will matter this time next week if we do not nail Amael and his followers to the wall! We’ll be the ones having our claws pulled out if he succeeds. Do you understand me?”

  Given much jaw-grinding and nostril-flaring, a chided Horst dipped his chin, “Yes, my Alpha.”

  Adal sat back down and loosened his black cloak from around his throat in a rare sign of stress, “Make yourself useful and draw me a hot bath before Amael disconnects us from the engine and leaves us to rot here in the wilderness without even the dignity of imperium power.”

  “Yes, my Alpha.”

  Once Horst had stepped forward into the same carriage as Janoah, the Alpha met eyes with Duncan sitting across the way; the big black wolf appeared as cool and collected as ever. Nothing ruffled him, not murders or politics or Horst’s constant verbal backstabbing and manoeuvring.

  “Mayhaps Ah’d best put the kettle on too, my Alpha?” he winked, standing up with a knee-slap. “Might be our last chance of a brew this side of getting our claws pulled out!”

  *

  It was simple enough to locate the cabin in which Uther was being held; the sounds of a muffled interrogation were as familiar to Janoah as traffic and honking horns beneath her office window. She listened at the door whilst the interrogator asked the prisoner a question; it was impossible to make out what was sa
id over the sound of wheels on the track. Silence followed, then a coughing snarl as a fist was planted into Uther’s stomach.

  “Caaaghfffgh!”

  One would always start small, with threats against family and friends, and work one’s way up through violence and pain to the rack – everyone talked on the rack.

  Just as well Josef didn’t think to bring one, Janoah thought, entering the cabin.

  The cramped space was stuffed with three wolfen bodies. Two were black-cloaked Prefects, one sitting on the bare bed filing his claws, the other standing with a knuckle-duster. The third was Uther, paws tied to the light fixture above his head with Howler-wire, stripped of his cloak, tunic and armour, his breeches and fur matted with blood.

  “That’s enough,” Janoah said. “You’re both dismissed. I’ll take it from here.”

  The Prefects exchanged looks. One said, “He’s a live one, marm, I think we ought to stay.”

  “I’m touched by your concern,” Janoah replied, with a hint of sarcasm. She cast her eyes over the battered Uther, twisting in his cruel bonds as the train rocked to and fro, “But he appears thoroughly… subdued. I would rather you boys guard this carriage. It’s possible whoever’s behind Vito’s murder will try and assassinate this cretin before he incriminates them. Allow no Bloodfangs to pass; can you do that for me?”

  “Yes, marm.”

  Janoah’s beseeching manner instilled the Prefects with a fresh sense of purpose and they eagerly went about their task, unknowingly leaving Uther with one of the few beasts who had reason to kill him.

  This Wild-heart knew.

  Watching Janoah shut the door and lock it, he grunted at her through bloodied teeth, “Just get it over with.”

  Saying nothing, Janoah wet a kerchief under the cabin’s tiny sink and wrung it out. She approached Uther and gently mopped his white muzzle of blood. It was small comfort, and baffling to Uther.

  “What’re you doing?” he growled, twisting his wrists over his head.

  “In trouble again, Wild-heart? What a surprise.”

  “Puh! Thanks to you.”

  “Oh? Then why didn’t you just tell them about me?” Janoah asked.

  “Should I have?”

  “Is it because I’m Rufus’s wife that you’re protecting me, or are you actually loyal to me? Or are you just so pig-headed an alpha male you won’t give up information to anyone without a fight?”

  Uther swallowed, but said nothing.

  “All of the above, perhaps?” Janoah cooed, returning to the sink to wash the cloth. “Unfortunately you’ve been betrayed, my dear Wild-heart. We both have.”

  “Betrayed?”

  “Amael used you, and lied to me.”

  Uther looked on, his white muzzle slightly agape, dark grey ears erect, listening.

  Janoah explained matter-of-factly. “He had Rufus extracted from Gelb weeks ago – the Warden there is in his pocket, you see. Oh it was very cleverly done; had me fooled. I won’t bore you with the details, but sending you boys to kill Vito had nothing to do with Rufus and everything to do with power. Ivan wouldn’t have murdered Vito for any other reason than to save Rufus’s life, certainly not to make Amael Den Father, so Amael spun that yarn about getting Rufus out by some archaic legislation once he became Den Father.”

  Janoah checked her ruddy face in the tiny sink mirror. “Amael only saved Rufus because I asked him to,” she said. “He loves me he says. Then again, perhaps he’s just using me?”

  Uther tipped his head back, blinking under the hot imperium light to which his paws were tied with unbreakable Howler-wire – his arms were numb, yet wracked with pain from the strain.

  “Well, let’s never mind me,” Janoah chuckled, as if this were all a game. “I’ve no doubt Amael intended to eliminate you. There’s probably someone waiting for Ivan at the agreed rendezvous point, though I’m confident Blade-dancer will outwit whatever goons Amael’s hired.”

  “No!” Uther grunted. “That… double-crossing… bastard!”

  “That irks you does it?” Janoah woofed. “You know, Josef suggested injecting you with a taubfene overdose to tidy up any loose ends. A tawdry solution I must say.” Putting aside the cloth, the Prefect turned to the prisoner and said, “No, I can get you out of this… if you sign a confession.”

  “C-c-confession?”

  “Lay Vito’s death at Amael’s door, but you must leave me out of the equation. That’s all ALPHA needs.”

  “Puh! That’s all you need.”

  “Would you prefer that injection?” Janoah threatened. “I’m trying to save your life!”

  Silence.

  “Besides, Rufus wouldn’t forgive me if I let his handsome little Wild-heart die,” Janoah sighed, sitting heavily on the bed. “He didn’t save you from Vito’s clutches all those years ago just to have you throw your life away.”

  “What’re you on about now?” Uther growled.

  Janoah hummed, “Oh it must’ve been very satisfying to finally get revenge on dirty old Vito for all the years of pain and humiliation. I told Amael you’d leap at his offer.”

  Uther gulped.

  “What?” Janoah teased. “Think I didn’t know?” She checked her claws, “Foolish boy, I’ve always known. I know everything there is to know about my old Riddle District crew, every tick and fancy, every skeleton in the cupboard. The mistake you made was conflating Rufus’s two-way affection with the like of Vito’s one-sided lust. You spurned my husband from the day you arrived in Riddle, fresh from the academy, such a strong, handsome wolf by then, not a frightened, wretched boy. I think you enjoyed hurting him, because you could. Rufus was a substitute for the untouchable Vito, a way to hit back at the establishment-”

  “Shut up! You dunno nothing ‘bout me!” Uther snarled, tugging at the wires that held him. “Nothin’!”

  Janoah ignored his outburst. “I dare say Rufus won’t be able to stand the sight of you when he finds out you’re a cold-blooded murderer, even if it was the drooling Vito you done in. Now who’ll be spurned, eh?”

  Uther’s chin dipped to his heaving chest as grief issued forth in fitful bursts.

  “Grrfffggfffghh!”

  “Oh there there, Wild-heart,” Janoah tutted like a mother, standing up and drying the Howler’s hot tears. Cupping her paws to his muzzle she said, “None of us are perfect. I have secrets too, you know. Terrible secrets.”

  Uther looked up from his grief and self-pity like that frightened, cub of yesteryear.

  “Yes,” Janoah insisted. “In fact I’m sitting on the fattest secret of all. Nobody knows as much as I do, not even wily old Vladimir. I have my ears to every wall, waiting, watching. It’s very hard. Sometimes… I forget whose side I’m on, even who I am. It’s enough to drive one mad! But I do it all for Lupa. I really do. All I want is for wolfkind to flourish. The thought of another war terrifies me.”

  The wolfess suddenly turned away, paw to mouth.

  Uther watched, listened, eyes and cheeks wet, mouth agape in fascination. He’d never seen Janoah slip, never seen an emotion rule her mouth.

  “Janoah… I… if it’ll help then I’ll do whatever you want. You know I will.”

  Whipping out her rapier, Janoah whirled round and cut the Howler-wire, sending Uther collapsing about the floor amidst a spray of sparks and pain. Pulling a pen from her cloak, she set it by Uther’s trembling paws.

  “Good,” she sniffed, slapping some paper down, “now get to it, Wild-heart, or I’ll string you back up by your ears!”

  *

  “‘Make yourself useful,’” Horst mocked in a whiney tone, swishing bathwater around in the carriage’s communal washroom. “‘Run me a hot bath.’” Drying his paws he grumbled, “He’s developing such airs and graces, like a regular Den Father.”

  Leaving the washroom to fetch the Alpha, Horst bumped into Janoah as she emerged from the makeshift interrogation room with a piece of crumpled paper in her paws.

  “Any progress?” Horst demanded. />
  Janoah wafted the paper about, “A signed confession, Grand Prefect.”

  “Already?”

  “As you said, no one is unbreakable,” Janoah nodded, bowing her head a little.

  Unsure if Janoah was turning him a vague compliment, the rotund Horst grunted noncommittally. He leant forth and peered into the cabin, spying Uther lying on the bed in a foetal position, his broad, dark back shivering and heaving like a wolf waiting for death in a dying ward.

  “Who cut him down?” Horst demanded, pulling back rapidly, as if fearing Uther had the strength to leap up and attack him like a mad wolf.

  “I did,” Janoah said.

  “You? Explain yourself, this instant!”

  “He couldn’t very well write a confession with his paws tied over his head, Grand Prefect,” Janoah patronised. “There’s no need for claw-pulling or further barbarity, Uther’s said all we need him to say, and without a sting he won’t even be able to walk in his condition, let alone escape.”

  Horst cupped his paws behind him. “Sympathy for your old Riddle chums again Janoah?” he smirked. “Typical of a weak-willed wolfess.”

  “I’ve no love for this murderer, sir, but the kinder we are the better he’ll cooperate come the trial. I’ll have him well-guarded of course.”

  Horst huffed officiously, “See that you do!”

  *

  The vote was unanimous, every paw rising from the polished Elder Table in favour of Amael, the last elected Den Father of the Bloodfangs in twenty years.

  “Aye!”

  “Aye!”

  “Aye!”

  For so momentous an event the process felt strangely perfunctory, but a thin varnish of ceremony smoothing over the cracked and pitted edifice of Bloodfang democracy.

  “My first act as Den Father will be to cut away the black rot of ALPHA from this train!” Amael announced, before Vito’s cloak and brooch had even been draped around his shoulders. “Tell the driver to stop at the next station. We’ll leave them there. Let them make their known way to the Summit, if they even can!”

  Much cheering ensued – here was a wolf, at last, willing to stick it to those ALPHA bullies.

  Ah, but how many of you know Amael’s true ambition, to destroy our republic? Vladimir thought, watching proceedings from the corner of the carriage, helpless to change course, to speak out, for to say a word against Amael Balbus would be to mark himself for death in the inevitable purge.