Imperium Lupi

by Adam Browne

  Vladimir took another gander at the pictures. The extremely burly young wolf plucked a barrel up in the first, swung it up onto his shoulder in the other, before strolling off in the third without a care in Lupa. Janoah had a point.

  “The long-ears adopted him,” Janoah said, leaning back in her chair and crossing her long legs. “They’ve only been on the premises a few months. He’s the cook. Rufus probably went in for a cuppa and felt a tingle in his bones.”

  “Dodger?” Vladimir assumed.

  “Well you don’t get arms like that just by beating batter,” Janoah chuckled. “Werner knows them a little, he says the cub does a little boxing, but still. I’ve sent him to bring them in; we’ll soon find out if he’s just a pretty face. If he resists induction I can use his father’s past to… change his mind.”

  Vladimir closed the file with a flick of the fingers. “So where do I come in?”

  “Come in, Oromov?”

  “You have no reason to tell me any of this, and if you have no reason to tell me something, you don’t. I’m a very busy wolf Janoah so spit it out; I’ve a mad hyena to interrogate before lunch.”

  Janoah took a sharp breath, then explained, “Rufus… isn’t doing so well.”

  “Oh?”

  “Doctor Josef says he needs more venom, but he’s already well over his ration.”

  “These are lean times,” Vladimir stated, unmoved.

  “Get some for him,” Janoah demanded.

  “Impossible.”

  “I know you have contacts in the supply chain. Pull some strings and I’ll let you have the boy.”

  Vladimir sucked his cheek and twiddled his golden pen.

  Janoah shuffled in her chair, pawing its arms, “You can present him to Elder Amael and take all the credit.”

  Vladimir played down the deal, “Even if he’s suitable Howler material, Rufus found him first-”

  “Rufus is in no position to contest it,” Janoah dismissed. “When he’s on his feet again, I’ll tell him we brought the boy in for questioning and you sensed his corona during the interview.”

  Vladimir nodded, “You’ve thought this all through, haven’t you?”

  “I like to keep you boys quiet.”

  “All right, but what if the cub turns out to be useless? You’ve no hard evidence yet just... barrels.”

  “Then I’ll compensate you another way.”

  “I don’t want your money, Janoah, short of paying the paws I’ll need to grease.”

  “Who said anything about money?” Janoah piped indignantly. She yawned a little, “We’re so rare, we Howlers of the fair sex, so much more exhilarating than those Common Ground harlots. Can’t beat a real wolfess of the blood, eh Vladimir?”

  “Humph! Rufus copes without you.”

  “Unhappily, you’re not so inclined,” Janoah swiped back.

  Pulling back in his chair, Vladimir sniffed officiously, “The Lupan Law states-”

  “Oh, spare me! Are you a fusty old cobweb already, or are you a real alpha wolf?”

  His honour and strength challenged, Vladimir thoughtfully popped the lid his golden pen on and off with a thumb. He cleared his throat and looked to his office window, watched the rain tumble down. There was no way out.

  “One sting for the boy,” he stipulated at last.

  “Or me,” Janoah beamed, “a bargain both ways.”

  *

  Uther sat on a bench in the dingy hallway watching the imperium lamps flicker overhead. Ivan and Linus had long departed for the washrooms to render themselves presentable for duty again. It was only midday and there was the rest of the shift to get through.

  Wriggling his toes, Uther ran a paw down inside an armoured thigh and rubbed his sore muscles. Sprinting at imperious speeds had taken its toll. He needed a hot bath, a massage, a grooming, maybe the company of a fair wolfess later tonight; that would take his mind off the rot.

  A red wolfess in a white cloak and silver armour stepped in front of Uther – Janoah.

  Wild-heart hopped smartly to his feet, “Grand Howler!”

  “At ease,” she said.

  Uther stood thus; feet apart, paws behind back. To his surprise, Janoah slapped a ruddy paw to his dark, bluish-grey arm and squeezed firmly.

  “I want to thank you for bringing my husband’s assassin down,” she said sincerely, looking Wild-heart in his conversely pale-furred, mask-like face. “You did well, Trooper. Rufus was right to recommend you promoted to First Class.”

  Uther’s bright eyes flitted left and right a little as he fathomed what best to say. “It were my duty, Grand Howler. I couldn’t have done it without Blade-dancer ‘n’ Woodlouse.”

  “Wood what?”

  “Mills, Linus Mills, marm, my new partner. He kinda reminds me of a… well a… a Woodlouse, like.”

  “I’m sure.”

  Uther shrugged and hiked a thumb round back, “It’s the shield. Don’t see many about.”

  “No, it’s not a popular choice these days,” Janoah acknowledged, frowning, “He any good this Mills?”

  “They reckon so, marm.”

  “I’m asking you, Wild-heart.”

  “Could stand to lose a few pounds, maybe,” Uther suggested through a grimace.

  “Yes,” Janoah hummed, cupping her paws behind her back. “You know, at first I dismissed you as one of my husband’s little indulgences… but it seems I was mistaken. You’re more than a pretty face, aren’t you?”

  Gulping, Uther deftly changed subject, “How’s Cap’n Rufus doing, if I may?”

  Janoah paused, perhaps to weigh up whether or not Uther really cared. “He’s in a bad way,” she admitted, with a flick of her ears. “It took Josef three hours to pick all the imperium shards out of him. Fifteen in all.”

  “Thump me,” Uther whistled.

  “Quite,” Janoah agreed. “Still, nothing a little sting can’t fix, eh?”

  There was a distinctly awkward pause.

  The Grand Howler rolled a paw, “I… don’t suppose you have any lying around your quarters, Trooper?”

  So that’s what this is about, Uther realised. Janoah’s fishing for venom. Rufus must really be up the proverbial schmutz canal without a paddle.

  “No, marm,” said Wild-heart, cringing with embarrassment, “I don’t even have any for meself, not until the next batch comes in.”

  “Ah.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “No, I’m being unfair,” Janoah sighed. “You’ve already risked your neck twice for Rufus. You’ll get in trouble.”

  Uther spread his paws, “I’d do it, if I could. I owe him that much for getting me out of…. I mean, for convincing the Bloodfangs to take me on, marm.”

  A careful nod.

  “It’s not fair. Imperium ought to be shared out equally, marm. The higher ranks get too much and us foot soldiers too little; we’re the ones working the streets, not them-”

  “I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that dissenter talk, Uther!” Janoah hissed. “Imperium is earned, not given. If stings were distributed regardless of rank there would be no incentive to achieve; the pack would be full of rotting gazers staring at walls! Just imagine if every beast received the same wages too, nobody would try harder than the next and nothing would get done.”

  “But-”

  “Rufus is an exception,” Janoah interjected, heading off any accusation of hypocrisy. “His academic work has held him back; Ulf knows he should be an Elder by now! As it is I have to beg and borrow to see him through the hard times.” The Grand Howler chuckled falsely, “Sometimes I wonder why I bother, I really do.”

  Silence, but for the humming of imperium lamps.

  Janoah made to leave, but lingered long enough to add, “Take the rest of day off, Wild-heart, you and Ivan. I can’t offer you stings, but I can offer you rest and recuperation.”

  “What about Linus?”

  “Linus? Oh, yes, your little Woodlouse too. I’ll have Boris clear you all for a bonus; Riddle Distri
ct may be poor, but treat our Howlers right in this Den.”

  Uther saluted extra smartly, “Thank you, Grand Howler!”

  Authority and loyalty expertly sewed, Janoah merely grunted in recognition and took her leave.

  Chapter 6

  Bruno climbed on the table he was using as an impromptu ladder with a board of wood in his strong paws. He put it against a section of the shattered bay window and hammered it in place. Between hammer strikes, he heard a pained grunt from behind the bar.

  “Dad, leave it to me,” he tutted at the pair of white ears poking up. “You’ll do your knee in.”

  Casimir got up and emptied his dustpan into a bin. “I’m fine,” he said. “There’s ash everywhere. I don’t want you breathing it in.”

  With a wince the white rabbit knelt down and continued sweeping up broken bottles. Intermingled with the colourful glass was the occasional smoky-grey shard of opaque, glittery crystal – the shrapnel from that yellow-imperium grenade. Long-since decayed into relatively harmless ash, the shards crumbled under the merest touch from Casimir’s brush.

  “When you’ve done the windows I want you to clear off outside whilst I sweep up proper,” he said. “It’s gonna get right nasty in here.”

  “Dad, don’t fuss.”

  “You’re one to talk! Knee this, knee that! Anyway, we can’t open like this, so you’re no use to me here. The air’s nice and clear after that rain; a walk’ll do you good.”

  Bruno couldn’t argue with that. With a sigh, he pushed another board to the window frame.

  “Go see your girlfriend-”

  “Dad!” Bruno barked.

  Casimir ducked behind the bar, as if dodging his son’s reproach. Bruno could see his long ears wobbling to and fro as he shook his head and chuckled.

  Between boarding up windows, Bruno blurted, “Do you reckon he’ll be all right?”

  “Eh?”

  Bruno said the name quietly, “Rufus.”

  “Oh,” Casimir said, with an awkward sniff, “I dunno, lad. It’s no concern of ours. We did our bit.”

  Bruno hammered another nail in and, given a moment’s thought, posed another question. “Why would someone want to kill him, do you think?”

  Casimir reluctantly humoured him. “Howler business, lad. Rival pack probably has it in for him over some old grudge. The war’s never quite left us.”

  “Yeah, but he’s so nice.”

  “That’s the trouble, ‘en it? It’s his impartialist streak. He didn’t have to give us a penny for his food, not on his territory, but he shelled out. The old guard don’t like his sort. They fear another uprising. If it wasn’t for the fact Rufus is a war hero they’d have done him in years ago.”

  “He’s right. Every beast should be equal-”

  “Don’t start lad.”

  “I’m not, I’m just saying.”

  “Well don’t say! Don’t even think. Just keep your head down and walk on by.”

  Bruno huffed and puffed, but kept silent. Boarding up the last strip of shattered windows in brooding silence, the young wolf downed tools and stood back.

  “Here, how’s that?”

  Casimir joined Bruno, inspecting his work like a forebeast. “Beautiful,” he declared, patting that vast, wolfen back. “You got a knack with your paws, lad, and I don’t just mean in the ring, you got practical skills.”

  With a wry smile, Casimir suddenly jabbed Bruno in the ribs, reeling off a couple of deft punches before the wolf twisted round and blocked the rest, forearms up and defensive.

  “Oi!” he barked.

  “Hahahaha!” Casimir laughed. “Getting quicker, lad! Getting quicker, but not quick enough.”

  “You’re such a cheater!” Bruno tutted fondly.

  “Beasts don’t always fight fair. You got to be prepared.”

  “Yeah, yeah, I know, I know.”

  Casimir sniffed, “Hmm. Maybe if I can get this place cleaned up in time we can open for the evening crowd.”

  Bruno leapt on the premise, tail wagging, “I’ll help.”

  “No, lad.”

  “I’ll cover my nose with a hanky-”

  “I said no!” Casimir snapped, adding gently, “I appreciate it, you’re a good lad, but if you get sick on my account I’ll not forgive myself. I can manage, all right?”

  Bruno nodded and forced a smile; even as fear’s icy claws pierced his hot wolfen heart. Despite trying to block it from his mind his conversation with Rufus haunted him. The Howler had advised Bruno keep it to himself, but that was before the bomb. Would Rufus ever come back? What if he didn’t, could I die?

  “Dad, I-”

  “I’m proud of you, Bruno,” Casimir said, at the same time.

  Surprised, Bruno gave way. “Eh?” he laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. “What for?”

  “Because of what you did,” his father explained. “I’m ashamed of myself for being such a coward. You were right to help Rufus, of course you were. He’s a good ‘un and everyone knows it.”

  Bruno said nothing.

  Casimir wandered across his deserted café. “I-I got scared, “he admitted, throwing his paws up, “I still am; for you, not me.”

  Bruno wrung the front of his cream-coloured tunic with both dark brown paws, “I couldn’t leave him there-”

  “Of course not,” Casimir agreed, “but… but I think we should move, lad.”

  “Move?”

  “Aye.”

  “But we only just got here!” Bruno scoffed.

  Casimir tugged his ears, “I know, I know! It’s all my fault, lad, I knew coming to Riddle District was a bad idea. It’s right rough around here and I swear the Ashfall’s gotten worse. Werner said he’d look after us; he certainly got this premises on the cheap ‘en all, but I can see why. It’s just not safe.”

  “We can’t move!” Bruno piped, paws spread. “I… I’ll never make any friends if I keep moving every six months.”

  “You got Sara haven’t you?”

  Bruno raised a finger. “One friend, Dad. One! It’s bad enough that other wolves always ripped the fur out of me in school for being raised by a rabbit, let alone always being the new cub!”

  Casimir folded his arms.

  “That came out wrong,” Bruno groaned, cupping his paws to his head a moment. “But you know what I mean. For Ulf’s sake, I was just making friends with someone, a wolf like me.”

  It took Casimir some time figure out whom Bruno was referring to. “Who? Rufus?” he gasped.

  “Yeah.”

  “Don’t be stupid, lad!” Casimir snorted. “He’s a Howler!”

  “So?”

  “So he’s scum!” Casimir blustered, gnarling his fingers at Bruno’s stupidity “What’re you gonna do, lad, hang out together at bars? What’ll beasts think of you? You wanna be shunned by everybody in Lupa for kissing a Howler’s arse?”

  “But you’re friends with him,” Bruno whined.

  “That’s business, lad, it’s different! I don’t go to the pub with no Howlers, nor even Politzi, not even Werner.”

  Bruno averted his eyes.

  “Look, I know he’s a good ‘un, but he’s still a Howler, and a Bloodfang at that,” Casimir explained, calmer now. “Besides, everyone knows Rufus is on the way out. He’s too strong for his own good, too hungry for venom. He’s like a fancy car lad, he needs a lot of fuel.” The rabbit pawed his son’s shoulder and grimaced, “With this shortage he’ll be dead soon, so don’t go getting attached. Stick to Sara and other Freiwolves like yerself-”

  Suddenly Bruno whirled away and stomped upstairs, ducking under the low ceiling. Casimir imagined his lonely son was going to throw a tantrum, locking himself in his bedroom as he used to not so long ago, but he instead returned in his dark green greatcoat, buttoning the long garment about his mighty wolfen frame.

  Casimir followed him to the door, “Where’re you going?”

  “For a walk, like you said,” Bruno huffed, as the door bell jingled overhead.

/>   “It’s still raining; take the umbrella.”

  “I don’t need a stupid umbrella!”

  “You’ll get soaked. Think of your bad chest, you could get pneumonia-”

  “For Ulf’s sake, Dad, stop mollycoddling me! I’m not your little cub anymore. You ‘n’ Werner taught me to fight so I could look after myself, right? Be prepared you always say, but all you ever do is wrap me in fluff. It’s embarrassing!”

  Slamming the door hard enough that the boarded-up windows rattled, Bruno stormed down the shiny, puddle-strewn street with his paws rammed in his pockets and rain-flecked shoulders hunched.

  “Ah, lad,” Casimir sighed, watching him go.

  The enormous hog secluded in the shadows across the road watched as well.

  “Follow him,” he snorted at his uniformed compatriots of various races and sizes, before biting the head off a fried locust on a stick. He chewed with relish, before wagging the decapitated insect in Bruno’s general direction like a gruesome pointer. “Janoah wants to know where he goes and who he talks to before we bring him in,” he said, adding, “I’ll deal with my old pal Casimir.”

  *

  The glazed green tiles of the washroom shimmered by the light of imperium lamps as Linus trimmed his whiskers in the mirror. Older wolves often let theirs grow out, but Linus was young and his facial blossom was patchy and untidy, not at all like Montague Buttle’s magnificent feline splays.

  The washroom door burst open and Uther moseyed in, humming a little ditty as he went.

  “Hello, Woodlouse!” he chirped in his gruff tenor, slapping Linus on his broad blonde back. “Sprucing yourself up for a day out are we?”

  “Hardly,” Linus replied, adjusting the short towel tied neatly about his hips. “Seven hours until we get off.”

  “Is it now?”

  Uther danced over to his locker and turned the dial on the combination lock, all the while flicking his tail and jigging his legs like some cabaret star. He removed his helmet like a hat, twirling it deftly over one paw and into the darkness of the locker, whereupon the red-imperium fangs slowly lost their lustre. Uther’s whole helmet was fortified with imperium not just the fang decoration, his leg armour too. The metal comprising Howler armour was known as eisenglanz, an alloy of steel and, of all things, imperium ash. Eisenglanz was not only physically tough, but the ash melded within the steel acted as an insulator and helped diminish the burning plasmatic attacks Howlers could inflict on one another. The ash gave naked eisenglanz a distinctive grey sheen, like pencil-lead.