The Winter Tiger Read online

  ‘Let’s storm it then.’ River’s unhelpful and absurd advice got him a growl from Ash.

  ‘Pipe down boy,’ Ash snapped, baring his yellowish-white teeth, Star had to put a paw on his shoulder to restrain him. ‘If we go in there blind, we’re dead.’

  ‘Well, we can’t stand out here in the fog and open fields.’ River made a good point, which stopped Star from rolling his eyes. Instead, he nodded.

  ‘Wolves, form up,’ Star spoke into his comms device, ‘tighten ranks. There are Tigers ahead and most likely in that building. Does everyone see the treeline to the left-hand side? Make for that and disappear into the woods. From there we can scout better and if necessary, fall back to our ships. Understood?’ He didn’t wait for responses as he marched through the fog.

  The damp air now reeked of Tiger, too many to count, not that he could pick out the familiarly floral and oddly pleasant aroma of the Winter Tiger. His gut told him the Tiger’s general wouldn’t demean himself by setting foot on a food planet.

  ‘Cannons!’ roared a Wolf, Star had already heard the shrill popping sound and witnessed the gigantic shell vault up out of, what he now realised was a brick structure.

  ‘Fall back!’ Star ordered all too late.

  At least twenty Wolves vanished amongst the rubble and chaos of the first shell, leaving nothing but a wet crater full to bursting with damp mud, littered with body parts and gore.

  Two more shells whistled up into the clouds, Star couldn’t track their path. Even as the Wolves fled another forty or fifty succumbed to a similar brutal yet quick death. The grassy fields were being blown to pieces and only half of the Wolves had reached the treeline.

  ‘Open fire!’ roared Star Wolf. For a moment he took great delight in seeing hundreds of neon green laser shots zip across the surface of the muddy ground to slam into the brick building. It looked oddly new. ‘They planned to be here and for us to arrive.’

  ‘You’ve got that right!’ agreed the Night Badger, who was covered in mud and blood. ‘Don’t worry it’s not mine.’ He ducked down behind an oak trunk five-times his size. The woods provided cover, of sorts, and with the Wolves now peppering the building the cannon fire had ceased. Not before the Tiger’s arsenal had blown a good eight craters into the fields. The last three missed everything but by Star’s rough calculation one hundred Wolves had perished in the blink of an eye, all following him blindly through the fog.

  ‘Why didn’t any of you predict this?’ Star Wolf barked at the Band of Breeds who’d formed up around him, all taking cover behind tree trunks.

  ‘We’re not psychic you damn fool!’ snapped the March Hare.

  ‘Every scan off and on world showed nothing,’ said Bloodhound, he at least seemed apologetic. Shadowfang and the Night Badger both squared their chests and looked about ready to kill Star, who on instinct drew his sword and got into a fighting stance.

  The Night Badger chuckled, a bitter rasping noise.

  ‘Darling,’ Shadowfang strolled forward, pushing the tip of Star’s blade down, ‘don’t embarrass yourself. This is war, we’re warriors and only creatures of flesh and blood. Don’t let songs go to your head, any animal can gain notoriety through the majesty of song and any animal can die just as quick. Songs don’t make us perfect, and a song of Wolf and Tiger won’t make you invincible either. Now pull yourself together.’

  Star slumped forward. Sky and Ash caught him by the elbow and propped him up. Sky’s gorgeous lavender eyes implored him to stand, he took courage from that. He’d been a fool to neglect her since breaking down so many unspoken barriers on Leo. He was pretty sure he loved her.

  ‘You’re right, I’m sorry. This is my fault.’

  ‘It’s no one’s fault,’ said the Night Badger before turning to the frontline of Wolves firing at the building. ‘Damn it, spread out and spread your fire across the entire building. Light the thing up so nothing inside can move or leave.’ He turned back to Star. ‘Now we go kill us some Tigers.’

  AFTER THE INITIAL SKIRMISH ceased, Star had order sentries and for the remaining Wolves to fan out and encircle the building. With more intelligence established they now knew the building was little more than a shelter to house fifty Tigers and a handful of cannons. The location up on a hill made it damn inconvenient to storm but that was probably the point.

  Night fell fast and they’d all agreed moving forward or back in the dark was suicide, who knew how many buildings the Tigers had constructed out in the endless fields. At a guess, it must’ve been considerable because somewhere on this planet they had penned in, or slaughtered, hundreds of thousands of Lambs. Sky had voiced her displeasure at not being allowed to return to the shuttles but seemed to understand the logic of moving in the dark. Star stayed close to her as makeshift tents were being erected, though he didn’t invite her into his tent. Now wasn’t the time to rekindle that fire.

  With tensions high, tonight was the night that the Wolves finally lost their tempers with the Night Badger. It was an odd set of emotions for Star, on one paw he was livid his Wolves would argue at such an inopportune moment but on the other he was delighted some of them showed bravery in the face of a legendary warrior. One Wolf had gone as far as cuffing the Night Badger when he simply sat on a fallen oak, refusing to help do anything. The Wolf soon scarpered when the Night Badger opened his mouth and flexed his jaw, the sliver of light sneaking through the leafy canopy shimmered off his metallic teeth. ‘I wouldn’t do that again if I were you.’

  ‘Well. help then!’ demanded another Wolf.

  Star stood in silence, leant against a tree, his eyes flitted from Wolf to Wolf and to the Night Badger, who showed no concern at being surrounded by ten larger Wolves.

  ‘If you’re with us then work.’

  ‘Yeah, or leave.’

  ‘I bet he’s working with the Tigers.’

  ‘Yeah, that’s why he doesn’t help.’

  Star couldn’t decide if they knew he was watching or if they just didn’t care he was, either way it was time to put an end to the argument before it truly got out of hand.

  ‘Enough,’ Star stepped out of the shadows, ‘leave the Night Badger alone. He’s OK to do as he sees fit.’

  If Star could’ve bottled the fury the ten Wolves displayed toward him he could’ve won the entire war with that alone. Anger was good but it needed redirecting. To his surprise not a single Wolf spoke up. Each one of them turned tail and marched away, their armour clanking off into the dark woods.

  ‘Can you at least help me build a fire?’ asked Star Wolf.

  ‘No.’ The Night Badger hopped off the tree and strolled, as if wandering in a meadow, away from Star whistling the same death march Star had heard him whistle back on the Council of Worlds.

  It seemed a lifetime ago.

  Tonight would feel like a lifetime.

  Star ordered guards in every direction, on rotation, but no matter the fact he had four hundred Wolves left he couldn’t help but feel surrounded. Every noise in the woods became a Tiger in his mind.

  Star Wolf sat, in the eerie calm counting the seconds in darkness, waiting for dawn to come and hoping it came before the Tigers did.

  7. The Legacy of Winter

  The few days slumming amongst the filth of the Elders dungeons was worth it for the Winter Tiger. His relationship with Tuskbane had flourished. The enormous Rhino was a simple beast but to his credit sharp of mind. Winter had no doubt the Rhino had the propensity to betray him should a better offer or opportunity arise. All the more reason to ensure Winter’s offering was the best around, which wasn’t hard given the traps he’d left for Star Wolf.

  ‘The Wolves have suffered severe losses on Agnus,’ said a sweaty Tiger, his face covered in deep pockmarks. He had an unfortunately wide scar tracing down his nose and through his lips. Winter pointed at the scar without a word. The Tiger flinched but understood Winter’s question. ‘A war wound.’

  ‘In which war?’ Winter still hadn’t bothered rising from the plush cu
shions he lay amongst. He knew a lie when he heard one.

  ‘Uh, it was a brawl, years ago on Ranae.’ The nervous Tiger hopped from foot to foot, looking like he needed to urinate, he was not worthy of the black and gold uniform he wore.

  ‘A tavern fight isn’t a war, is it?’ Winter rolled onto his back, the mud ceiling was slick and ready to drip water soon. ‘What about the other creature?’

  The slimy Tiger smirked. ‘A filthy dog, I crushed his skull.’ He beamed with pride.

  Winter broke out into a deep laugh, the kind that soothes even the most wearied of souls and for the briefest of moments he forgot all of his rules, schemes and the war ahead. ‘You let a Dog do that to you?’

  The Tiger joined in the laughter, and before he realised it Winter had him pinned to the wall out in the dark, dusty corridor. The dim light, from the lanterns staked into the walls, showed the tears already streaming down the pathetic Tiger’s face. He’d shut his eyes and wet himself.

  ‘And what of our Tigers on Agnus? Is the Wolf leader dead?’ Winter was surprised how a desperate tone snuck into his second question, he asked it with too much urgency and the Tiger before him had picked up on the oddity. So be it. Winter slit the Tiger’s throat. ‘Firestone, get down here.’ Winter was pleased with the veteran’s response time. ‘Clean up this mess. This one is no longer fit for duty.’

  Firestone nodded, ‘he never was,’ and got about his work without fuss and didn’t delegate it elsewhere, another noteworthy action.

  Once satisfied that Firestone was clearing up the body, Winter opted to stroll out of the dungeons and down to the ocean. It was a short walk, which he’d taken every evening, but nonetheless it helped break up the monotony of the task of bringing Tuskbane on side. His trip to the dungeons hadn’t been wasted. Tuskbane was in his pocket now and ready to be unleashed when required. Firestone was also his Tiger now and the dungeon master had another fifty scattered around that were now fully aware they reported to Winter first and then the Elders; and more importantly that they were not to speak of the change in hierarchy.

  Winter knew none of them would speak out against him, the moment they did would be to admit their own guilt. Sure, the Elders would order Winter killed, and slowly as was the Tiger way for treason, but they’d hand out the same fate for anyone else deemed guilty and the Tigers operated a guilty until proven innocent policy. It kept the masses in order beautifully.

  The calm lap of the waves, on the black sand, soothed Winter. He shut his eyes and focused his breathing, deep slow breaths. He sat down, cross-legged and opened his eyes once more to gaze out over the infinite horizon that was the sea. The red moons overhead created a bloody ocean below, the only way Winter saw or remembered the ocean. The Misty Ice was way off to the north, but all water led there, and Winter craved the ice-cold of the north. He missed the endless caves naturally formed deep into the mountains. He’d created many a home in the mountains, each one a sanctuary of peace and solitude.

  On occasion, the breeze would kick up to send a shiver through Winter’s fur, another reminder of the snow and ice awaiting him beyond the Misty Ice. Steel yourself. Winter sighed and got back to his feet, an audible crack coming from his left hip. The aching joint had been a source of annoyance the last week, purely on account of the awful conditions he’d slept in, he hoped.

  ‘Back to it.’ He ventured back down into the depths of the dungeons; screams echoed out late into the night. Sleep deprivation alone was enough to kill off half of the creatures. ‘Have the three Hares brought to my private quarters,’ he instructed the two guards stood outside by the large fire pit.

  ‘At once, General,’ the pair responded before sprinting off ahead of Winter. After five minutes of composing himself there was a gentle tap at the rickety wooden door that closed off his meagre, yet grand by dungeon standards, living quarters. ‘Come in.’

  Winter stood, positioned behind the uneven circular oak table, no more than a slab cut straight from the tree and drilled onto four chunks of metal. On the other side Winter had positioned three stools.

  The door creaked open and in stepped three stick-thin Hares. Their fur was matted, covered in blood and they stank of their own droppings. Still, the unfortunate trio carried themselves with an invincible dignity that Winter admired, futile but admirable nonetheless.

  ‘Ladies, thank you for joining me.’ Winter waved a paw at the stools. ‘Please, have a seat.’ They exchanged glances before one by one electing to sit on the stools. ‘How are you all this evening?’ He chuckled, putting a hand to his mouth. ‘Apologies, I shouldn’t tease you. This is difficult enough and your pride hangs by a thread and I do not want to be the one to strip you of it.’ He slammed both his paws on the tables, digging his claws in. ‘I have thousands of Tigers in my employ to do that.’

  The youngest of the Hares, a silvery brown thing, burst into tears.

  ‘Stop that.’ said Winter. To her credit she did. ‘Thank you, now let’s get to it shall we. You have a good chance of survival if your husband, and father, delivers what I’ve asked for. What I need from you is a little reminder for him.’ Winter pulled out a recording device and popped it onto the table. He proceeded to set it to record, the red light flashed. ‘Now let’s put on a show for him. We need him to remember I’ll kill you and what fine Hares he’ll lose if he doesn’t deliver.’

  Winter knew his voice being on the recording, but hidden from in front of the camera, would add to the dread when the recipient received the message.

  ‘You do know one day he’s going to kill you,’ replied the eldest, and mother of the two either side of her. Winter couldn’t have asked for a better response if he’d scripted it himself.

  ‘I’m shaking in my boots,’ replied Winter, he couldn’t help himself. ‘Please do go on.’

  ‘Marchy,’ the grey Hare and mother, stood up and leaned close to the camera, ‘you hear me and hear me good, screw this filthy Snow Cat. You are not to come back for us. Whatever you do we’re all dead. Don’t help them.’

  The March Hare’s wife should’ve been an actress, Winter couldn’t believe his luck, this impassioned speech was going to send the already erratic Hare into overdrive. Winter leaned forward. ‘Marchy you have one month to deliver on your promise, or your wife and children are dead. Good luck, I hope for their sake you succeed.’

  The two younger Hares sobbed, long and hard the darkest of the two went to speak, ‘But we’re not—’

  To Winter’s utter amazement the mother slapped her daughter off her stool, cartwheeling her into the mound of cushions before following her, ‘You shut your mouth, do you hear me?’

  The three Hares returned to the stools.

  ‘My, Mrs March, bravo.’ Winter clapped. ‘You are one fine woman. The March Hare is very lucky to have you.’

  ‘You have no idea.’

  THE TALKS WITH GENERAL Modela’s three younger brothers, down in the deeper levels of the dungeon, were a lot more straightforward, they knew to behave on account of what Winter had done to their eldest brother and the savage Gorilla General Modela knew to carry out Winter’s orders without question otherwise all four Gorillas were dead.

  Thinking of the simplicity of acquiring General Modela, and his crack team of Gorilla heavies, always heightened Winter’s mood no end. When tasks ran like clockwork, as he planned them, he was delighted; when the Elders summoned him his mood always soured. I should send Modela to destroy them.

  No sooner did the idea enter his mind than he dismissed it for folly. The Elders followers would know Winter had sent the Gorillas. No, he needed to be patient until his forces were large enough, and entrenched within the Tiger ranks, that he could overthrow the Elder Three.

  ‘I’ll be there right away.’ Winter snapped the comms device shut, the three-inch green hologram of the snooty Tiger the other end smirked before being shut off. The Elders had demanded Winter return to them with updates from the dungeons. A task usually reserved for lackey Tigers, and yet here the Wi
nter Tiger was returning to the Elder Temple at their behest. They’d known he was in the dungeons for a week, which was good news; none of the Tigers following Firestone had been stupid enough to make their defection as obvious as ignoring requests from the Elder Three.

  The fine line Winter stepped along was sharper than a Serpents Blade and he relished the danger, it was the only way to know you were truly alive. And what did he care if they came for him, he had fail-safes in place.

  Though he hoped it wouldn’t come to that.

  He had a galaxy to rule first.

  With every slow step Winter took in the scenery of the dungeons, the damp, the cold draft, the permanent stench of blood, urine and excrement, the gentle whimpers of battered creatures. Each item a reminder not to fail, these cells would be luxurious in comparison to the ones awaiting a treasonous Tiger, he should know he invented half of them. Not that he could be caged by anyone. A few scenarios that he’d mapped out could see him in those torturous holes but even then he’d still have ways out.

  ‘Help me please,’ came from the latest cell he strode past. ‘I’ve done nothing wrong.’ The creature inside was a beautiful Zebra, her black and white stripes ruined by the woollen, straw-coloured rags she’d been put in. Somehow her flowing black hair remained lustrous and she didn’t reek like all the other prisoners. ‘You’re like me, you’re different.’ The statement froze Winter to the spot.

  ‘My dear,’ Winter stepped to the bars, tilting his head to ensure the nearby lantern caught his fangs, ‘the similarity ends with our fur colour. Now, I am different from everyone else, with that I agree.’ He spat at her feet. ‘You, however, are one of a million, each one of you black and white.’ He grabbed both her wrists and yanked her hard into the bars. ‘Worse still you’re weak.’

  Big black eyes stared at Winter; the Zebra didn’t wince as blood began to trickle down her forehead. Instead, she smiled, a sad smile that ended with a gentle sigh. ‘You’re trying so hard to be something you’re not you’ve forgotten who you truly are.’ Her words had a strange, mystical quality to them and at that moment Winter noticed the circular pattern scratched into the black stripe of fur just above her collarbone, like the coil of a snake creating a perfect circle wrapping in on itself with every turn.