by Simon Archer
We needed some legendary muskets.
“The Hunter of Legend’s weapon caches,” I asked, “What do you know about those?”
“Only that you Rabbits aren’t supposed to know about him or those.” The pale Wolf’s gruff tone revealed a bit of prejudice. “All bosses tell their pack to beat a Rabbit who mentions it. Even the nobles and such don’t like to talk about him.”
They were still afraid of the Hunter. If those caches were real, they’d have wanted them found. That could have been how these beasts got their hands on muskets in the first place. It was worth checking out, at least. Beats possibly having to conquer time and space.
“Do you know of any places with heavier guard duty that seem odd?” I asked. “Structures that no one uses? Random patches in the wood?”
“There’s a bit of forest we aren’t cutting down just a little way from here,” he said. “The Baron has two packs guarding it every day. Ours was one of them.” Hello, Hunter’s cache.
“You’re gonna take us there.” I motioned with the gun for him to get up, calling out to my bunny girl. “We’re heading out, Hopper!”
I spied over the pale Wolf’s shoulder to see Hopper poking at the black corpse with her foot, checking to see if it would move. It did not. When she heard my voice, she skipped over to my side as I pointed our captive ahead of us.
“Where are we going?” she asked as she hugged onto my side.
“Our wolfboy here’s gonna lead us to one of the Hunter’s caches.” I started walking, and the pale wolf stayed ahead as we moved toward the weapons cache.
“Oh, good!” She unhooked her arms for a couple of quick claps. “You’ve started your pack already, my lord!”
“My what?”
“Your pack!” She hopped excitedly along. “You’ve won your first pack underling!”
“You think I want this beast working for me?” I looked at her like she was nuttier than squirrel crap. “I just killed his boss. Don’t tell me you believe this ‘switching sides’ angle that he’s pushing to get a better shot at killing me.”
“He’s a part of your pack now, my lord.” She stopped hopping around to explain. “You’ve killed his old master and have claimed his loyalty and servitude.”
“Didn’t I say that already?” The Wolf butted in.
“You shush!” I snapped at him. “What kind of idiot would’ve believed the crap you were selling?”
“I don’t have any ‘crap’ on me, boss.” The dumbass said back. Ho, I had half a mind to shoot this Wolf in the leg for that. “What is ‘crap’?”
“So you’re telling me,” I turned to Hopper while summoning all the patience I could for this Wolf, “he’s just gonna follow my orders without question and not try to avenge his old boss? No strings attached?”
“They don’t have loyalties beyond life and strength, my lord.” She continued. “If someone were to kill you, then he’d be loyal to them. Lord Timberpine has won over many Wolves for guarding his estate by killing their leaders in single combat in the courtyard.”
“Alright, how does the first leader get their loyalty, then?” I asked. “Are they just born following one?”
“We follow the first person to win against us in a fight, boss.” The Wolf answered, even though I didn’t ask him specifically. “After that, whoever kills the boss inherits that win.”
“What if someone else beats you without killing your boss?” I asked. Seemed like a strange oversight to not think about, even for a bunch of mutts.
“Doesn’t matter.” He said. “You haven’t beaten the boss, so you haven’t earned the win from them. I’ll fight to the death before I give up my boss, whoever that is. It’s an honor to die serving strength. But we don’t help out with personal battles. You have to keep your proof you deserve to lead.”
“Once we run into Timberpine,” I retorted, “or this Baron I’ve heard about, you’d flop like a fish! I’m not a part of your Wolf society, and they’re the top ‘bosses’ around here. Do I have to beat them to make sure you never turn on me?”
“They’re not my boss.” He replied simply. “You are.”
“It’s a very simple chain of command.” Hopper chimed in. “Wolves only follow their master. If your pack members get their own pack members, that doesn’t make them a part of your pack. Your pack members are completely loyal to you, and theirs would be loyal to them. Since their boss is your underling, you can tell your underling to tell them what to do. He never served the Baron. He served the black Wolf, who had his own pack leader, and that one his own, which eventually leads to the Baron of Thumperport, eventually. You’ve cut him out of that chain since you don’t have a master.”
“So, you’re not actually ‘loyal’ to me.” I addressed my new underling. There were some doubts about the whole thing, but at least I understood it. “You’re just following this Wolf code of strength, just like all the other Wolves, including the nobles. It’s just this patchwork link of boss-subordinate relationships that form the whole society.”
“Yeah, that’s the gist of it,” he confirmed. “I’m not ashamed to say it: Wolves are pretty dumb altogether. We can’t be bothered with these lists of bosses and such. Much more simple to have just the one to follow. If the higher up nobles need you to do something, they can worry about running it down the chain.”
That was the most ridiculous system of government I’d ever heard of. If it’s true, though, then that solved part of the huge problem of dwindling resources. As I was losing bullets, I’d have to be careful to keep some Wolves alive so I could grow my pack. Plus, now I really only had to kill pack leaders, and the rest would fall in line.
“What do I call you, anyway?” I spoke to the newest recruit.
“Whatever you want, boss.” He answered. “My old boss called us grunts, but I’ll respond to anything.”
“Do you not have a name, either?” I asked.
“Only nobles have names, my lord,” Hopper reminded me. “Having a name is a very prestigious claim, and signals others to try to claim it for themselves. If an underling ever tried to name themselves, which they would never dream of, it’d eventually get passed up the chain through harsh discipline and then forgotten so that no one else could use it.”
“I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to the lack of names.” I rolled my shoulders, warily setting my gun down while still watching the Wolf. “I’m calling you Toby.”
“Is that a kind of grunt?” Toby, the pale idiot, inquired.
“No, that’s your name,” I said, wondering how many times I’d have to have this conversation through this whole adventure. “When I say ‘Toby,’ I am talking about you and only you. When I call out ‘Toby,’ I’m expecting you to answer and obey. You can be a grunt or anything else you want to be as well. As far as I’m concerned, you are Toby.”
“What does a ‘Toby’ do?” he asked, looking as confused as a wolf’s face can be, cocked head and all.
“Think of it like a special kind of underling.” Hopper helped clear things up. “You are now Lord Hank’s grunt, a part of Lord Hank’s pack, and that makes you a special type of grunt that only you can be. The name encompasses all the things about you and what you do. Everything that you do to help Lord Hank is part of being Toby. No one can be a better Toby than you.”
“I’m… Toby.” The new Toby pondered this title he’d been given. He scratched his head with his big lumbering forehands, lurching forward as he led the way still.
“Not to ruin an adorably sweet deed,” I whispered over to Hopper as we followed, “but I thought you hated Wolves. Why d'you help him out?”
“I didn’t mean to speak out of turn, my lord.” She blushed and avoided my gaze. “I was just informing him about what serving under you is like. Yes, a part of me is filled with dread knowing he was working with other Wolves and hurting my people. His boss was ordering him to do terrible things, and so was his boss’ boss. But he’s a part of your pack, just like I am your slave. I know that y
ou would never hurt me, so he can’t hurt me either. We’re all working together now. I can’t afford to endanger you or anyone else in your growing household if I hold on to my hate.”
“Honey, that’s gotta be one of the sweetest damn things I’ve ever heard in my life.” I reached a hand over to her hip and pulled her close. “Though I must say, you’re making these names I’m coming up with look like royal knighthoods. I’m not nearly creative enough to even make them sound good.”
“These names are special!” she blurted out. “My lord, your underlings and servants need to know what having one of your names means. They should all be able to appreciate what a strange and wondrous gift it is to be called something that only refers to you, to have something that makes your work and struggles matter, to not be just another replaceable tool.”
The sleeves of her cotton shirt unrolled, and she put her hands to her mouth with those sleeves hanging over. You’d have had to have seen it to know just how heart-melting it was to see her as she was snuggling up next to me.
“I love my name,” Hopper spoke softly. “And I’m not the one who made them sound like that. I was only telling Toby what you told me. He’s the best Toby, and I’m the best Hopper there ever was.”
Son of a bitch. I supposed she was technically right. When I was saying it, I was just trying to explain the naming idea better, so she would let me call her by one. I wasn’t planning out a mantra for how my estate would be like. Good lord, it sounded like a PSA slogan, not a noble calling.
It didn’t matter in the long run, anyway. You didn’t get to pick how any reacted to what you say. You could have only said what you mean. Guess that was just what they needed.
7
“Isn’t he amazing?” Back at the catacombs, Hopper interjected her opinion into my story, seemingly unable to contain it. “Not even a few moments after coming into our world, starting from the very bottom, and already making history as the first hare with a pack!”
“Alright, settle that down, now,” I said to her with a hand to her hip. “Clearly, I only did half of the work. And I’m not a Rabbit. I’m a human, with none of your guys’ super-strength legs or amazing abilities or nothing. Don’t be making a mountain out of this molehill.”
“That just makes it more impressive, sir.” The new girl, who I had to name soon, or it’d kill me, put in her two cents. “If you really aren’t as strong or as fast as even any Rabbit, let alone any Wolf, you’ve accomplished more than anyone has in thousands of years, even just by that point in the tale.”
“It’s… not… I just shot them.” I stammered out. “I’ve dealt with lots of dangerous animals just like that, and the gun makes it pretty easy. Hell, it should get the lord title, too, if we’re assigning credit where it’s due.”
There was a small pause as we walked without speaking, our footsteps tapping through the dark passages and chambers. After an awkward moment, someone finally spoke up. And you’d have been shocked as I was that it wasn’t Hopper or me.
“If I could make a request, sir,” the girl broke the silence with some mustered courage, “may I… may I see the pistol?”
I gladly handed it to her tiny cradling hands, which gave the pistol the appearance of needing two hands to fire. Given her diminutive size, that may have been the case.
“Do the bullets use some kind of gadget or magical device to direct the projectiles into the target for you?” The girl inspected the piece. “It could use magnetic forces or powerful miniature vortexes to guide them to where they need to go, but that would require quite a bit of power for a small device like this.”
“Um, no,” I answered. “You still gotta aim.”
“Then if…” she spoke again, still gathering courage and strength, “if I may be very, very blunt, sir?”
“You may.” I gave permission. Even outside this social circumstance, having the option to ask to be blunt would be a great idea to implement back in my world.
“Your diminishing of your achievements is demeaning.” She spoke bluntly, just as she intended. “Even if you’re trying to be humble, you can’t just dismiss your contributions because you have the tools to make them. They wouldn’t have happened without you, and it makes the Rabbit race sound pathetic when you make light of your actions, which we haven’t been able to replicate once. It’s a lord’s duty to have a better appreciation for achievements, even his own, if he’s going to evaluate his household appropriately.”
Hopper and I stared at her, completely floored by the ferocity we’d just witnessed. The new girl’s face was indeed fierce, like a lioness. Not to justify the horrible actions of the Wolves in any way, but I could see why a tyrannical slaver might want to try to shock that fiery spirit of hers out. Just add a pinch of confidence, and any of these bunny girls were a force of nature to be reckoned with, each in their own way. Nobody moved as we all just let that moment sit. The lioness’s face turned back to the meek slave, cowering at the fear of retribution.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it!” she peeped out as if it were one long word.
“Blunt is what you offered, honey,” I said with a breathy laugh of disbelief. “Blunt is what I allowed, and blunt is what you delivered. And if I may use just a fraction of that bluntness, you can’t just take back your words like that if you’re working for me. I promise to say what I mean at all times if you’ll do the same. Deal?”
She came out of her little shell of arms, peering out from her defenses to see that I meant her absolutely no harm. After a short while, she ever so slightly nodded her head.
“Very good.” I declared, walking up to the girl and placing her cheeks in my palms. “With this pact, I hereby name you ‘Tinker,’ since you’re so good with all of the technical things I can’t even begin to understand. This is your special name, only for you. It’s yours to have and to keep forever.” I kissed her lips, her twitching nose tickling my own cheek, then let her go. “You’re a real spitfire, you know?”
“Where did all of that come from?” Hopper walked over and bumped the stunned bunny with her hip. “I’ve never been half as brave in my whole life. Nobody deserves a name more if you ask me.”
“You kicked a Wolf in the face.” Tinker pointed out.
“You heard how mouthy he was!” Hopper justified herself. “Besides, that was just an instinct. I didn’t mean to be as terrifying and wise as you just were.”
“I… um…” Tinker’s eyes shifted from side to side as she tried to process all of this new information. “Can you continue the story?” Looked like we were overwhelming her just a tad, and she needed a focus shift off of her.
“Of course.” I obliged. “You best prepare yourself for the wonder that is dealing with having Wolves under your employ.”
“See? There they are.” Back in the story, Toby pointed out the obvious patch of woods that was still there amidst a field of stumps, like flares of foliage signaling anyone who even looked at it to come to find the important thing they were hiding there. You could see it a mile away in this ghost town of woods. Should have just left a sign out if they were really looking to keep the place marked so noticeably.
Except, maybe it was too obvious. A sign really would have been better for these tree-hungry wolves if they were trying to deforest the whole place. And I already knew they didn’t care about their slaves’ livelihoods, so we were only left with the option of deliberate action on their part.
Not that the tree thing was any concern of mine at the time. I was only thinking that kind of thing as I lined up a shot from behind a stump. Damn trees kept getting in the way. We had about six Wolves to deal with, all different colors just like Toby’s old group: blonde, brown, black and grey, black with some white, grey with black spots, and dark red. This group was wielding weapons; two spears for the blonde and brown, two war mauls for the two black ones, and two muskets for the red and grey.
Working off the whole “pack mentality” theory of Wolf leadership, I tried to find the leader through body la
nguage to end it quickly. After about five minutes, the only thing they were saying was “bored out of their minds.” They were all just standing around, picking teeth, scratching heads, rubbing trees with their legs. No interaction at all to tip me off to power dynamics. I told my people all the information as I saw it.
“Do you see the Hunter’s storage chamber, my lord?” Hopper asked as she laid next to me. “Perhaps a door or a latch?”
“Nothing yet, darling.” I kept my sight on the black and grey one since he was the biggest of the group. Without a clear leader, I was gonna take out the big one at least to thin the herd. If I was lucky enough, that would be him, and this’d be over with only a bullet lost.
“Your musket’s not gonna hit from here, boss.” My better-expert-than-me-on-my-own- goddamn-weapons expert lackey informed me. “You’re just gonna give away where we’re hiding.”
“Thank you, Toby,” I said, focusing on my shot. “I’ll keep that under advisement.”
“Make sure to take out their leader,” he said, as if it was a new idea, “That’s the best way to beat a pack.”
“Thank you, Toby.”
Lord, give me strength.
“Get ready for anything.” I said to my ‘household.’ “I’ll thin out what I can, but you’ll need to each take a Wolf when they come over here.”
I squeezed the trigger, and the shot rang out through the valley. They all looked over, and a second later, the big guy fell over dead from a headshot. Loading another round in, I went for the next shot, and they had just noticed the fatality. Another bang and the Wolves came prowling for us, running at blinding speeds. The shot hit the red musketeer in the neck, forcing him to fall behind the rest. I still wasn’t used to their speed, yet, and their vitals moved differently than wolves from my world. Once I learned the rhythms, though, no more sloppy shots. One more to hit the grey musketeer in the shoulder, and I stood to switch to the pistol and machete.
