Path of the Tiger

by J M Hemmings

  ‘And the results?! What of the results of these experiments?!’ Claudius demanded with greedy eagerness, snatching a bunch of grapes from a passing serving boy; the trauma and disgust that had unsettled him so greatly just a minute earlier had now been displaced by greed, ravenous and lusty.

  ‘As I said, maybe one in a thousand, and that is discounting the possibility of sheer good luck, which would most likely set the odds much higher. The lioness’s blood killed over two hundred slaves.’

  Claudius spat out a mouthful of half-chewed grapes as his eyes widened with shock.

  ‘Two hundred! Killed?! How so? By the gods, was there any method to your madness?’

  ‘Claudius, Claudius, you have too little faith in me,’ Octavian retaliated. ‘I took slaves who were weak and exhausted, but otherwise healthy. I fed them well and gave them plenty of rest and relaxation to restore their strength before subjecting them to a dose of the lioness’s blood. And, as I said, the blood happened to kill over two hundred of them. They would start to have violent convulsions upon receiving it, via a small incision in the veins of their forearms, and then the unfortunate slaves would slip into unconsciousness, and finally death.’

  ‘And you persisted with this two hundred times?!’ Lepidus gasped. ‘What on earth made you continue after the first two or three failures?’

  ‘Curiosity,’ Octavian murmured with a shrug and a cold smile, an evil darkness gathering in the shadows on his face as he grabbed a sliver of roast pork from a serving boy’s platter. ‘Curiosity, and a certainty that it would eventually work. I just had to find the right man, my friends. You see, the lioness told me that she became a creature like this after being attacked by a strange hyena out in the desert wastes of her homeland. So, from this I knew that blood or other bodily fluids had to be the method of transferral.’

  Lepidus scratched at his chin with contemplative fingers.

  ‘She was a lioness, yet she was made this way by a hyena?’

  ‘That’s what she told me. She had no reason to lie, at that time; the foolish whore was quite trusting of my intentions, before I imprisoned her and began my experiments, of course. The method of who can and cannot successfully receive the transferral of powers, well, that is yet another of the myriad mysteries of their kind which remains unsolved. But I knew that if I kept trying, I would eventually find a subject who the blood would transform. And surely enough, I did.’

  ‘You created one of these beasts?’ Lepidus cried, standing up with shock, the hot water cascading off his hunched, geriatric form.

  Octavian leaned back, spreading his arms out across the rim of the bath, revelling in his success with relaxed smugness.

  ‘I did, and it was quite a process to watch! The slave initially became deathly ill, but in a very different way from the others. He had fits, fevers, cold and hot sweats, and he cursed and swore and cried out in agony when sleep came to him, which only occurred in small and irregular measures. But after a few days he started to change. Health was restored to him, and indeed he became stronger and fitter than he had been prior to the experiment. Prior to receiving the lioness’s blood he had been in his fifties or sixties, I would have guessed, yet after a week or two his appearance took on the youthful glow of a man much younger.’

  ‘Astonishing! He … he really regained his youth?’ Claudius stammered with incredulous disbelief. Then the questions started to tumble out of his mouth at a frenetic pace. ‘What of the beast factor? Did he change immediately into one? And how was he able to do so?’

  As if deriving pleasure from drawing out the process of enlightening his peers about this mystery, Octavian chewed slowly and languidly on the sliver of pork, grinning smugly all the while, before lowering himself deeper into the soothing heat of the water and eventually continuing.

  ‘Well, the first few times it happened, it appeared to be a completely random occurrence, and the subject endured immense agony and suffering through the process, which was rather protracted, unlike the almost instant change the lioness just underwent before your eyes. However, after a while he was able to gain a measure of control over the process, and eventually, with much practice, he was able to perfect it, and make it as fluid and rapid as the change in forms you just witnessed.’

  ‘Interesting, very interesting indeed,’ commented Lepidus, who was clasping and unclasping his stumpy fingers. ‘So, this was done completely under your watch, with no outside factors?’

  ‘There was nothing but a few drops of the lioness’s blood involved. The man was kept in a locked cell the entire time.’

  ‘Where is he now?’ Claudius demanded. ‘And pray tell, what manner of beast did he become?’

  ‘I will let you see for yourself,’ Octavian answered, imbibing a long sip of wine. ‘Bring out the monster!’

  The guards disappeared behind another concealed door, and when they emerged they led before them a thin beanpole of a man with gaunt and unattractive features, marble-pale, heavily freckled skin, and a head of unkempt, woolly red hair.

  ‘A most unpleasing specimen to look upon,’ Lepidus muttered with distaste.

  ‘Slave!’ Octavian barked. ‘Change your form!’

  The man nodded meekly, keeping his eyes averted the whole time, and without flinching he changed forms as quickly – and in as grotesque a process – as the woman before him had. He, however, became a hamadryas baboon, as large as a wolf, but with an elongated simian face and a mouth that featured enormous, talwar-curved canine teeth.

  ‘By Jupiter!’ Claudius gasped, slipping and flailing about in the water as shock snapped at him with sudden shark jaws.

  The other senators also emitted gasps of fright and disbelief.

  ‘That beast is unchained!’ Lepidus blurted out in a panic, scuttling backwards with a splash of hot water. ‘It will attack us!’

  ‘No, no it won’t,’ Octavian countered calmly. ‘Somehow, the creature retains his human mind whilst in beast form. He understands us, although, obviously, he cannot speak. Let me demonstrate.’ Octavian turned to face the baboon. ‘Slave, lie down on your back.’

  The baboon complied instantly and lay down on the glossy marble floor.

  ‘Excellent,’ Octavian said. ‘Now slave, climb atop the statue of Neptune and perch yourself upon the blades of his trident.’

  Again the baboon acquiesced to Octavian’s demands, rapidly scaling the smooth contours of the life-sized statue with effortless agility.

  ‘This is quite delightful!’ Lepidus exclaimed gleefully, his initial fears now allayed.

  Octavian flashed him a grin that was dripping with smug pride.

  ‘Now slave,’ he ordered, ‘get down from there and bring Senator Lepidus a fresh goblet of wine.’

  The baboon sprang from the top of Neptune’s trident, landed deftly on the floor and then hurried over to one of the serving boys. The boy, completely unfazed, handed the baboon a goblet of wine, and the animal carried it over to Lepidus, who accepted it from the creature with trembling fingers. The fierce-looking beast then sat meekly upon his haunches and awaited the next command.

  ‘Change back into human form now, slave,’ Octavian grunted.

  In a surreal flurry of receding fur and distending, stretching and shrinking of muscles, the baboon assumed his human form once again, and there, where the baboon had been moments earlier, stood the slave, naked and shivering.

  ‘Guards, take him back to his cell,’ Octavian muttered, finishing the last of his wine and then tossing the goblet aside for a serving boy to scurry after. The guards complied and led the man out of the chamber.

  ‘Astonishing,’ Claudius murmured. ‘Absolutely astonishing. The possibilities are endless! Why, we could sell these creatures for a small fortune each! Imagine, having your own lion or tiger or bear to wait upon you!’

  ‘Or to protect you, as a bodyguard,’ Lepidus suggested, his eyes glowing with the greed-dripping promise of massive wealth. ‘People would pay most handsomely for such a protector!’
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br />   ‘No,’ Octavian said, his voice at once steeled with harsh resolution. ‘These beasts are far too much of a risk to buy and trade. If one of them realises his own power, do you understand the scale of the revolution we would have on our hands? If these monsters rose up in a revolt, it would be uncontrollable and unstoppable … and it would be the end of not just us, but of the entire Republic. Besides, do you not remember what I just told you? It took the death of over two hundred slaves before I was able to make but one of these creatures. Now, I am admittedly a man of expansive resources, and I could conceivably create more of these things, but even the most dim-witted of businessmen could tell you that such odds and costs of production are simply impossible in terms of making a profit … and profit, gentlemen, is the bottom line, is it not?’

  The senators mumbled in reluctant agreement.

  ‘Then Octavian I must ask, upon what course of action would you steer us with regard to these devils? Speak man, speak!’ Claudius demanded.

  ‘We must exterminate them. All of them,’ Octavian muttered darkly, curling his hand, the fingers of which were covered copiously in expensive rings, into an ominous fist.

  ‘I for one would certainly feel safer in my bed at night in the knowledge that such things no longer walked the earth,’ Lepidus said, although disappointment at the lost business opportunity lingered in his tone.

  ‘It is not just the safety factor,’ Octavian continued. ‘There is more to it, a lot more. I have employed a learned scholar to conduct as exhaustive a study as possible into these monsters over the past few years, you see. For almost two decades now he has been scouring all of the ancient and esteemed libraries of the world. He has just returned from the Royal Library of Alexandria in Egypt, and he has spent years traversing the unknown lands of the Far East and studying their records as well. Kurush, summon Demetrios.’

  Kurush nodded and left the room, returning a few minutes later with a bald, heavily bearded Greek geriatric, who hobbled along behind the imposing bodyguard with the aid of a walking stick.

  ‘Greetings, Roman senators,’ he croaked in a weak voice, husky with the passage of many decades.

  ‘Welcome, Demetrios,’ Octavian said warmly. ‘Will you join us in the bath and tell us of your knowledge of the beast-men?’

  ‘Yes, yes,’ the Greek replied eagerly, shedding his heavy robe and stepping into the steaming water. ‘It has been a most fascinating commission, and I must thank you for your most generous funding, Octavian. It has enabled me to research some of my own more obscure interests in my spare time as well, but there is no need to speak of those at present.’

  ‘Tell us, Greek, of your knowledge of these strange and terrifying creatures,’ Claudius demanded.

  ‘Yes, yes, very well. Let me just settle my ancient bones in the warmth of this water, they do ache so in this cold weather. Alas, the burdens of old age! Ahem, now where do I begin? I have presented all of my findings in a series of academic scrolls, copies of which my scribes are currently translating and preparing for the perusal of your learned eyes, but until such time as these documents are ready, I shall present you with a short summary of what I have discovered.’

  ‘Yes, please do elaborate on the nature of these monsters, my erudite friend,’ Lepidus said. ‘We are most curious to learn more of this strange phenomenon.’

  ‘Well, these beast-men, and women I may add,’ Demetrios said, ‘are present, if one digs deep enough, in the records of every civilisation in the known world. I have travelled through the provinces of Africa, Hispania, Gaul and the islands that lie beyond its western borders, and also to strange lands far to the East where no Roman nor Greek has ever set foot, I do believe. These travels have taken me the best part of almost two decades, you know. And in all libraries, as well as in the words of elders, kings and chieftains in the barbarian nations who lack the ability to record the written word, there is mention of shamans, demi-gods or gods who are able to assume the form of beasts at will.’

  The senators gasped with collective surprise.

  ‘Indeed, mention of them can be traced back to the most primitive of societies. In the days before men had mastered the written word, before we made buildings of stone and arms of iron and bronze, when men lived as uncultured savages in forests and caves – as some still do in various barbarian societies – there was evidently a strong link to the animal world. Animals were connected with, how shall I put it, the spiritual? The primitive peoples, in their unenlightened state, almost universally believed that men who were able to take the form of animals were also able to commune directly with the gods themselves, or indeed to be gods. I have found this to be true of almost all of the early beliefs of most societies and peoples I have studied. Indeed, if you think about it, Rome is said to have been founded by Romulus and Remus, who were suckled by a she-wolf, and a certain scroll, whose existence has been kept secret, speaks of that particular she-wolf being able to assume human—’

  ‘That is preposterous!’ Claudius interjected hotly. ‘How dare you suggest that the founders of our great city were nursed by one of those … those disgusting things! You would do well to mind your place here, foreigner!’

  ‘I meant no offence, good senator,’ Demetrios retorted calmly. ‘I spoke not of the veracity of the claims inscribed upon the scroll, I merely mentioned its existence to illustrate my point.’

  ‘Do not be so quick to take offence, Claudius,’ Octavian murmured, raising an eyebrow as he shot a cautionary glance at the senator. ‘Allow my friend to speak.’

  The old scholar continued to explain his findings, expanding on important details all the while, and revealing all that he had uncovered in his relentless and thorough scouring of the libraries of the known world and beyond. He explained that the fact that these creatures could shift between human and animal forms at will was merely the tip of the iceberg with regard to what they were, what they could do, and what else existed out there, which was inextricably connected with these beings. As he did this, a chilling realisation began to dawn on his audience. When he finished speaking, a hush fell upon them, and they remained silent for a number of tension-taut moments, before Octavian finally spoke.

  ‘As you can see, my friends, should these monsters attain their true potential and unite, and access the ancient powers to which they are connected, they could destroy everything we have been working towards. They hold a mighty key, a portal to an unimaginable power, which, thankfully, seems to be a fact unbeknownst to most of them. But should they ever begin to collectively realise the true extent of their abilities, and discover what has been lost, what still lurks out there somewhere in the farthest reaches of the world … they could change everything.’

  Lepidus was the first to respond.

  ‘Could we not bring them over to our side? They would be powerful allies, and an indoctrination into our philosophy would certainly keep them from ever coming close to unlocking their potential or discovering these lost … “Mothers”, whatever those things may be. It would keep them in a safe and inactive state, if you will?’

  Octavian masticated on this for a second, but he then began to shake his head.

  ‘Lepidus, what is the motto of this secret society?’

  ‘Gold begets power, power begets gold,’ Lepidus answered hesitantly.

  ‘Yes, exactly. Now, did it not occur to you, as Demetrios was delivering his most informative lecture, that what is at the heart of these monsters’ potential, and what these “Mothers” represent, is completely antithetical to our doctrine, to our ultimate goal? I am sure that some of the creatures, perhaps many in fact, could be swayed to our cause. Rare is the man, or beast, perhaps I should say, whose honour cannot be bought with the right amount of gold. But as Demetrios explained, it is simply too much of a risk. Should these creatures be permitted to continue their existence on this earth, even if we bring every one of them but one to our side, there remains that single one who may realise the potential of which Demetrios spoke … and that alone
would be enough to trigger a revolution, the likes of which would be unstoppable. Senators! We agreed, many years ago, when we were young Romans and when we founded this secret society, that our goal would be to lay the foundations for our successors to build the greatest empire of wealth, power and control that the world has ever seen. Our names will be remembered in the annals of history, and we will be revered as gods for what we have begun here. Our families, our class of society, we will rule over the length and breadth of the known universe! Is this not our goal?’

  The senators murmured replies of affirmation.

  ‘Then you can see, in the light of what Demetrios has told us, that these creatures could utterly destroy that hope, that lofty dream. We cannot abide this, my friends, we cannot. So, with this in mind, I propose that a new goal be added to the overarching mission of our secret society.’

  ‘And what goal might that be, Octavian?’ Claudius asked, leaning forward and narrowing his eyes, his fingers subtly tightening their grip on the golden goblet in his hand.

  ‘That goal, Claudius, is the extermination of every last one of these vile monsters from existence. What say you? Do you agree, after what you have seen and learned today, that this is of the utmost necessity?’

  Unanimous cries of ‘aye’ echoed through the chamber.

  ‘Excellent. Then, in light of this addition to our goals, I also propose a new name for our secret society.’

  ‘What name do you propose?’ Lepidus asked.

  Octavian’s countenance hardened, and a darkness multiplied across the topography of his features, like storm clouds cresting distant mountain peaks on an otherwise sunny day.

  ‘From now on, my friends,’ he said, ‘we shall call ourselves … the Huntsmen.’

  13

  LUCIUS

  July, 78BC. Capua, Republic of Rome

  Lucius Sertorius strolled before the row of nearly nude male slaves with the casual ease of a seasoned connoisseur, eyeballing the offerings before him with a clinical gaze. He paused in front of one particular man, a tall, flaxen-haired Celt, and moved in to examine him more closely. Lucius stood at least a foot and a half shorter than the towering figure before him, and the thin, hairless limbs that trickled from his expensive silken tunic made him seem like a mere boy next to this impressive specimen of masculine physicality. The unimposing nature of Lucius’s build, however, was no impediment to his arrogance, and he stepped up to the huge man and examined him with callous impunity; he pulled at the captive’s ears, lifted his lips to scrutinise his teeth, and gripped the muscles of the man’s shoulders and upper arms between his long fingers and squeezed them. He then ran his fingertips somewhat provocatively over the man’s chest and stomach while locking an aggressive stare into his eyes – and as he did this a heady rush of power accompanied this act of dominance. As the irresistible drug, power, set his nerve endings aflame and quickened his breath, he knelt down and gripped the man’s thighs and calves, and then stared at the slave’s feet and ankles for a while.