Imperium Lupi

by Adam Browne

  Amael paused a moment. “Because you love him, wolfess that you are,” he said a length, stroking Janoah’s sweet cheek. “And wolfess that you are, I know you’d never forgive me.”

  “Yet you ask me to abandon him?”

  “That would be your choice. I can only keep asking.”

  Janoah looked down and away, suddenly so demure and reticent, but Amael knew very well the fire that burnt in her bones. She could simply cup a paw to his chest and blow him across the room right now if she had cause. What a wolfess.

  “I will divorce him if and when you change the law,” she said. “I see no point before then, do you?”

  Amael grunted, “Hedging your bets Janoah?”

  “One of us has to.”

  A nod.

  “Lay with me tonight?” Amael asked. “Let me treat you as a wolfess should be treated.”

  “I can’t. Beasts will talk.”

  The Elder wheeled away, poured another drink. “Can you not console me? I deserve it. Entertaining the Elders yesterday was pure torture.” He waved his tumbler side to side, “We processed from restaurant to bar to Lupanar, Vito becoming more drunk and disgusting at every stop. Yet everyone continued to hang on his every word in sycophantic admiration, myself included, even though we all know what he is now. What he always was. We’re all such cowards it sickens me! I sat hoping a hyena would toss a bomb through our window.”

  Janoah tutted, “That’s treasonous talk.”

  Amael turned to her, “Treason’s all I talk around you. I don’t know why I trust you... but somehow I do.”

  A smile.

  “Will you not reconsider my request?”

  Janoah dipped her chin, then raised it, “Which one, Elder? You’ve pitched so many tonight.”

  Amael cringed, “You know I hate you using that ridiculous title in private. I’m not old! I am very far from the rot. The first thing I’ll do when I rule Lupa is abolish the feeble terms ‘Elder’ and ‘Den Father’ forever. The Wolf Kings shall return! We’ll be like our cat cousins; they know how to rule, how to foster respect and keep the little beasts in their place. The citizens will bow in the streets as we pass when I am king.”

  “Why merely king?” Janoah tempted. “Why not... emperor? Emperor Amael Balbus of the Pan-Lupan Pack Bloodfang.”

  “Ambitious,” Amael Balbus growled in amazement. “See? You truly are a wolfess after my own heart. That’s why I trust you. I know you’ll always put Lupa first. She must survive, and the best way is through strength, unity, not these warring factions.”

  Slowly, gently, Janoah cupped her paws over Amael’s mighty cloaked chest; she could feel his crackling aura, and no doubt he could hers. “I have things to do, as always,” she said, tapping him on the nose, “I’ll call on you later my ‘Emperor’.”

  *

  It took Janoah five minutes to cross the Den, from the opulent Elder wing where Amael Balbus entertained guests, through the relatively understated, even run-down barracks where the Howlers resided, to the stark, clean hospital wing where Janoah threw open the doors to the appropriate ward.

  Rufus lay in bed. Beside him; in a second bed and much the same predicament was Howler Linus.

  Janoah made her way to Rufus’s bedside and stood over her bandaged husband. She stared for an age, wondering whether to wake him and tell him the bad news.

  “Well?” he croaked, not opening his eyes – so much for Janoah’s little dilemma.

  “Rejected,” she replied at length, wringing out a flannel and wetting her mate’s puckered brow.

  “Naturally.”

  “Your absence didn’t help matters.”

  “My dear Jan,” Rufus woofed, “if I thought for a moment I could talk them round… do you think I’d let myself get blown up?”

  “Yes, if it garnered your pride.”

  Rufus smiled, as did Janoah.

  “How are you feeling anyway?” she asked afresh.

  “I… haven’t felt this wretched since I was inducted,” Rufus complained.

  “That bad?”

  Rufus had suffered a famously painful and protracted induction; the sheer volume of white-imperium his body had required to get over the threshold from sputtering, sickly cub to fully-functioning, corona-wielding Howler had been almost too much to bear. He had been bedridden for weeks whilst his pain-wracked muscles and bones adjusted. Some Howlers did not survive their induction, slipping into comas and dying of imperium poisoning; others woke up robbed of long-held memories, or even their sanity. Janoah herself barely remembered her induction, though beasts told her afterwards it had been painless. She could believe it, female Howlers tended to cope with imperium better than their more common male counterparts.

  Thinking such thoughts whilst tenderly dabbing her husband’s brow and neck, Janoah suddenly said afresh, “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry about Noss.”

  “No… you’re not,” Rufus chuckled falsely, turning his cheek. “You’re not sorry about the boy either.”

  “Boy?”

  “Don’t insult my intelligence, wife, I know that you’ve looked into him. Besides, Ivan’s told me everything. Did you send Werner’s thugs in to arrest Bruno, or did Vladimir?”

  “It was a routine questioning,” Janoah claimed.

  “For what? He was just a cub!”

  “Who bludgeoned a rat to death and hospitalised two others to escape? Some cub, husband.”

  Seething in pain, Rufus said, “It’s... all my fault.”

  “How?”

  “I told him he was dying, that he had to be inducted. I only wanted to help him, stop the pain, all that. Poor boy must’ve been scared witless all day. He obviously panicked.”

  “You did what you thought was right. It’s not your fault he ran away and got hit by a truck.”

  Rufus flinched at the mental image. “Ulf’s fangs.”

  Janoah wiped his muzzle. “You should stop talking and rest,” she chided. “Amael will get suspicious if you recover too fast.”

  “Yes,” the patient snorted. “I hope you didn’t lay with him to get your paws on some venom. Not that you haven’t to get favours before, but don’t debase yourself further on my account.”

  With a glance at Linus, who she judged to be a mere insect in the great scheme of things and therefore no threat even if he was awake and listening, Janoah spat haughtily, “At least Amael’s a wolf worth lying with!”

  “My dear Jan, if he were that I’d be happy for you.”

  “You’ve no right to judge me!” Janoah hissed, leaning close, “None! You betray me for… for-”

  “For senseless passion,” Rufus cut in, turning to Janoah at last and looking at her with one green eye. “You betray me for cold, calculated ambition.” Smiling knowingly, he cupped a paw to his wife’s cheek, “If you love Amael, really love him, then leave me and go to him. But power alone won’t sate your hunger, Janoah Valerio.”

  “How would you know? You’ve never had any power!”

  “I see it in Amael’s eyes. He’s always hungry that wolf, hungry and frightened.”

  Janoah drew back. “Well, as it happens,” she revealed haughtily and more than a tad triumphant, “I didn’t have to go to Amael or anyone else to save your sorry tail this time. You can blame young Woodlouse over there for your stay on the mortal coil; he gave you one of his stings. So there.”

  Frowning, Rufus looked to his right, at the unconscious blonde wolf. “Woodlouse? You mean Linus?”

  Janoah huffed, “You’ve spoken? I thought he was out of his head on stings and taubfene.”

  “Ivan told me,” Rufus explained, adding, “Fresh out of the academy, isn’t he?”

  “Yes. He’s Uther’s new partner; hence the new title. I think it’s going to stick.”

  “That’s the least of his worries. Does he even appreciate the risk he took giving me a sting?”

  “I spelt it out,” Janoah maintained. “Still, he wouldn’t be deterred.”

  “Jan, if you tw
isted his arm-”

  “If you don’t believe me ask Uther. He was there.”

  Rufus looked the wounded Linus over whilst Janoah wetted the flannel.

  “He’s very bright,” the latter wolf said afresh. “Finished top of his year, bumped straight up to Trooper First Class. Even found time to study imperiology and biology. Though not how to ride a mono.”

  Rufus cast a suspicious eye over his wife, “You’ve been looking into him.”

  Janoah meticulously wiped-down her mate’s arms. “I thought he might be after something by helping you, thought he might come with some baggage. He seems harmless enough.”

  “Oh, you’re as bad as Ivan. You two see plots everywhere!”

  Janoah paused a moment, but said nothing. Eventually she continued in the same vein as before, “Uther says Linus worships you. He’s read all your work. Big fan, apparently.”

  Rufus tried to disguise his delight. “Well,” he grunted, “you can’t believe what that lying rogue Uther ‘Wild-heart’ says. He’s not even paid me a visit yet. After everything I’ve done for him. That’s gratitude for you! He will be proud, that one.”

  Janoah checked the nearest clock. “Fun as is it playing nursemaid to my decrepit husband again, I have to go.”

  “So soon?”

  “Don’t pretend you’ll miss me.”

  “Have I ever?”

  Without even a kiss on the cheek, Janoah left Rufus for the corridor, failing to notice the starkly two-toned wolf lingering in the shadows until he leapt forth.

  “How is he, marm?” Uther gruffed after her.

  Whirling on him, Janoah assumed, “Linus?”

  Uther nodded, “Aye, a-a-and Rufus, marm.”

  Janoah cast a paw to the doors. “Why don’t you go in and see for yourself? I’m sure my husband would enjoy your company. He was just talking about you.”

  “He was?” Uther said, betraying a smile.

  A nod.

  “No, I... I’d better let him rest,” Wild-heart excused. “He’s got enough good stuff now though, yeah?”

  A second, deeper nod.

  “Aye. Good.”

  One paw finding her hips, Janoah looked the athletic Uther up and down. “He’s never intentionally hurt me, you know,” she said, presumably of Rufus. “We were even happy for a time, back when we were young. We stay together because we’re friends, you see; it’s not like two Howlers have much hope of cubs, especially when one of you is... well, you boys know the score by now.”

  Uther’s white face grimaced.

  “What I mean is,” Janoah said, with a tiny gasp, “if it’s me you’re scared of offending, Wild-heart, don’t be. I’m not the covetous sort. He might even make you happy... for a time.”

  She took her leave of Wild-heart before he could even grasp her words, let alone dare to reply.

  *

  The young beast twisted his arms. They were bound to his sides. Every part of him was strapped down to a hard, cold surface. He couldn’t fathom why, or where, or even when. The room around was dark, yet the light overhead painfully bright. Machines pumped and hissed. Beasts talked. Visions of a stern white rabbit in an apron and a smiling black wolfess kept surfacing and fading away.

  Who are they? Who am I?

  “Hello?” the beast said, breathing deep as the tendrils of panic started to creep into the sides of his fuzzy mind like a cold, dense morning fog. “Is anybody there?”

  A cat in a white coat leant in, he had grey fur and tinted spectacles. His mouth and nose were obscured by a medical mask. “He’s awake already,” he said, adding, “Remarkable.”

  “Where am I?”

  “You are in a... medical facility,” the cat replied vaguely, writing on a clipboard. “My name is Doctor Josef Grau, but you may call me Doctor Josef.”

  “Oh. All right, but… who am I?”

  “Who are you?”

  “Yeah, sorry but…” the beast growled, letting out a slight laugh at his own perceived foolishness, “but… I can’t remember.”

  “You’re Rafe.”

  “Rafe?”

  “Yes. Howler Rafe Stenton.”

  Rafe Stenton let out a scoff of amazement, “What? Howler? Me?”

  “Well, in a manner of speaking,” Josef assured, flipping a sheet up. “You’re a very special kind of Howler. I’m saving your life, believe me, but there are certain side-effects to induction. Loss of memory is not uncommon with this much imperium in the blood.”

  “I’m…. I’m a-a wolf, then?”

  “Oh yes.”

  “Where? I can’t see.”

  “Nurse,” the cat said. Someone passed him a small mirror and he held it overhead, blocking out the bright light. “Here, take a look at yourself.”

  There in the mirror was a dark, handsome brown wolf. He had robust features and big fiery eyes that shone with unnatural brilliance.

  “Huh,” he said, smiling a little. “That’s me?”

  “Who else would it be?” Josef scoffed, passing back the mirror. “Now shut up and lay still.”

  Rafe had no choice but to.

  Doctor Josef looked across to his wolfen nurse. “Better sedate him before the pain hits, Nurse Meryl,” he said. “Taubfene, one hundred minims.”

  “A hundred?” Nurse Meryl questioned.

  “Plus gas – he’s a big lad, he’ll cope,” Josef assured. Still Meryl hesitated, so the doctor huffed further, “I know he’s restrained, but if his corona coils violently now he’ll turn the place upside down, perhaps even kill us! He must remain asleep for as long as possible. Besides, we need to take his tail off yet. Might as well get that unpleasantness over with.”

  “Yes, Doctor,” Meryl said guardedly.

  A door opened, a hefty metal door by the sound, though Rafe couldn’t see. Doctor Josef turned to address whoever had entered the room.

  “He’s not ready yet-”

  “How is he?” the intruder snapped, a female. Rafe strained to look, but the light overhead reduced everything beyond to blurry silhouettes.

  He felt something prick him in the arm and his whole body jolted in surprise, though he could not move for his bonds. He saw that wolfen nurse beaming down on him, her smile somehow apparent even behind her mask. She was pretty, with smooth grey fur and tall, elegant ears. Her shirt had a high, black collar and cravat; very smart and modest.

  “Shh,” she soothed, stroking Rafe’s brow. “It’ll be over soon. Doctor Josef’s going to make you better.”

  “You’re Meryl, yeah?”

  “Meryl Stroud. Pleased to meet you, Rafe Stenton.”

  Rafe smiled as Meryl Stroud placed a cold glass respirator over his muzzle. The hiss of gas escaping a canister echoed down the pipe. For a moment Rafe was alarmed, but as a strange sweet smell overcame him he relaxed, his aches and pains melting away.

  “Well?” the intruder demanded of the doctor. “Is the induction taking?”

  “Taking? He’s off the charts!” Josef mewed with excitement. “His imperium density is staggering. He must have a dozen stings in him and he’s still stable.”

  “I knew it. I knew it! Rufus you’ve done it again.”

  As his eyelids grew strangely leaden, a red wolfess in a white cloak walked into the light and peered down upon the prostrate Rafe, inspecting him closely. She cupped a paw to his massive neck. Rafe’s body twitched from ear to toe as a tingling, warm sensation crawled down his spine. It was strange, but not unpleasant.

  “Ah, can you feel me, dear boy?” the wolfess cooed, stroking Rafe. “I’m Janoah Valerio. We’re going to be working together, you and I.”

  Rafe frowned, but was too weak to speak.

  Turning away, Janoah growled at Josef, “Don’t lose him!”

  “Oh, I won’t,” the doctor assured. “Where are you going?”

  “Back to Riddle Den; I’ve another obligation to attend to,” Janoah replied, closing the door behind her.

  Nurse Meryl looked down upon Rafe. That gentle, placid
visage nestled atop that high collar was the last thing he saw before the weight of drug-induced sleep banished all thoughts and fears.

  *

  Vladimir crossed his sumptuous Grand Howler quarters and pushed aside an antique tapestry to reveal his wall safe. He unlocked it with a deft twiddle of the dial. Inside was a rainbow of test tubes filled with imperium, red, green, blue and more. Vladimir took the green tube and went to his window, which was festooned with potted plants of every kind, some hanging, others climbing, but most content to stay within the confines of their pot.

  Adding a few drops of green-imperium to an elegant silver watering can, Vladimir swirled the water within and sprinkled it over his miniature garden with great care.

  There was a knock at the door. Vladimir glanced at his ornate clock – midnight.

  “Come in,” he said, amidst his horticultural duties.

  The door opened and Janoah stepped in, devoid of armour and uniform in favour of white breeches and a matching silk tunic with silver thread woven into the seams.

  She walked over to inspect Vladimir’s window-bound jungle. “Tending to your first love, I see,” she cooed. “I had better come back some other time.”

  “Pour yourself a drink,” Vladimir replied absently, “I want to talk to you.”

  “Talk? I didn’t come here to ‘talk’.”

  “How’s Rufus?”

  “As if you care, Vladimir.”

  “A great deal,” he insisted, putting the watering can aside and facing his rude guest. “If I were able, I would vote for him go on his expedition. In fact I’d go along. I’m sure there are many plant species in and around the Dead Cities that I could describe for the first time. One of them might hold a cure.”

  Janoah said nothing – science wasn’t her field.

  She went to Vladimir’s cabinet to see about that drink he had offered her.

  “What Rufus doesn’t appreciate,” Janoah complained at last, pouring herself a crystal tumbler of Hummel brandy, “is that, if he’d had the heart to try, he’d be our Den Father by now, what with his strength and guile. Then he could arrange this silly expedition himself instead of canvassing idiots for approval.”

  “He’s a little young to be Den Father.”