The Winter Tiger Read online

  A ship of such beauty didn’t deserve anything but the best Tigers aboard her.

  ‘AH, GENERAL MODELA, I wondered when you were going to grace me with your esteemed presence.’ Winter stood behind his teardrop-shaped oak table, which at Winter’s insistence was polished to a perfect sheen daily. ‘I must say the Hexadome is looking resplendent this evening.’

  Winter gazed out of his private penthouse, which looked out upon the centre of the inner Hexadome and couldn’t help but admire the quality of builders the Gorillas possessed. The floor of the Hexadome was sandy dirt, encircled by marble rings like the Council of Worlds coliseum. Within the bottom ring of marble, twice the height of Winter, wooden doors had been installed. They were exquisite, iron-studded mammoths with vast hinges ready to swing open and reveal goodness knows what from behind.

  ‘General Winter.’ Modela’s words were always deep and loaded with aggression. ‘It’s good to see you.’

  Winter always laughed at the outright lie. ‘Of course, it is, darling.’ Winter stroked his hand across the table, turning away from the window. ‘Fabulous work as always. Now, tell me, what is behind those doors?’

  General Modela’s grizzly face knotted and his enormous hands flexed at the bottom of his long-scarred fur-covered arms. ‘A few surprises for your Tigers,’ a sly grin fell over the wide, silvering black features of the Gorilla, ‘and you if the rumours are true?’

  ‘Ha.’ Winter was going to have to remove a few tongues, namely Hitback’s. ‘Good news does travel fast. Yes, I believe I will, a little sparring is good for the soul.’ Winter slammed his paws on the table and proceeded to scratch huge gouges across the varnish, ‘plus it’s always good to remind everyone who’s in charge. Now bring me a list of everything behind those doors and then we shall commence tonight’s battles.’

  General Modela bowed, grunting as he did so, his neon blue robotic eye never averted its gaze from Winter. ‘Very well.’

  The Gorilla made for the door but before he exited the penthouse Winter called to him one last time, ‘Oh, and have someone come in and fix this table tomorrow. It’s got some marks on it.’

  Modela clenched his jaw, an audible crack escaping, before nodding and stepping out without word. Winter sat down in his grand, burgundy leather chair and turned his gaze back on the arena below. He didn’t move from that chair for some time, even when a Tiger entered with a note from Modela. After he’d broke the seal, he sat analysing every inch of the Hexadome floor, ‘Time for battle to commence.’

  THE HEXADOME WAS FULL to bursting of both Tigers and Gorillas, sat on opposite sides of the marble rings, both armoured and ready for battle. Once the Winter Tiger had inspected what lay behind every door and was satisfied the plans were laid out as General Modela said they were he allowed the first fight of the evening to commence. As usual they started off using stun lasers and the Hexadome floor was littered with wooden obstacles to hide behind. The aim of the game — last Tiger or Gorilla standing.

  Tonight’s battle went as the hundred before had, the Tigers won easily. They were too organised, forming up the moment the Winter Tiger sounded the klaxon. The Gorillas size advantage always went against them in this exercise, they were too big and slow to successfully dodge the stealthy attacks from the Tigers. After the floor was cleared away and refreshments were provided to the Winter Tiger, in his seat of honour, way above the fighting but close enough to smell the sweat and with time blood on the floor.

  Winter’s love for the Romans and their leaders from Earth’s chequered history meant he always enjoyed these trips to Catus and better still it served a real purpose in making sure those aboard Darkchurch were worthy to be there. This was the elite of the elite and it also gave the thousands of other fighting Tigers on Tigris and her many spacecraft’s something to strive for, any Tiger worth his fur wanted on Darkchurch.

  ‘Next,’ hollered Winter, he waved his hands and savoured the jeers and calls from the Tigers. The Gorillas remained silent, to Winter’s left a sea of neon eyes blinking at him. The colourful display served as a permanent reminder of his expert plan, a lie, but the Gorillas and Modela didn’t have to know that delicious fact. He would revel in tonight for afterwards it would be open war. This was his last moment to play before going for the Band of Breeds and ending them once and for all. He decided he didn’t have time for a trip to Ranae, so tonight he must relish the entertainment.

  The next item on the training agenda involved target practice, again only with stun guns. They didn’t want any Gorillas getting maimed too early in the evening. It was going to be a long night. Ten poor Gorillas, chosen at random, had to weave their way through the swinging vines layered inside the ceiling of the dome with target sensors on their backs. Below Winter had his team of sharpshooters, twenty Tigers, take it in turns to pick off the Gorillas. This was probably the most boring task of the evening, but the Tigers excelled at the task and it was always useful to know he had twenty trained snipers at his disposal, should, no when, the need would arise.

  ‘Did I say stop, you cretin?’ Winter tossed the contents of his golden goblet, a poor excuse for red wine, into the face of the Gorilla who’d nodded off and stopped fanning Winter with a huge collection of green leaves sewn together with bamboo and vines. ‘It’s too hot up here tonight.’

  The humidity outside seeped in through any available gap. The Hexadome was in effect a giant sweat lodge. Another useful reason to train here, if his Tigers could remain strong in such extreme conditions well then, the rest would be easy. It was the Winter Tiger’s way, to always be methodical and well prepared. He couldn’t help but chuckle at the notion of his latest training idea, if time permitted, at some point during the war he would drag all those aboard Darkchurch across the Misty Ice and into the ice-cold northern tip of Tigris. That’d sort the elite Tigers from those playing at being elite, of that he had no doubt.

  ‘Enough of this.’ Winter stood and spoke directly into the microphone positioned at the base of his viewing gallery, ‘What’s say we have some hand to hand combat.’

  The eruption of cheers came exclusively from the Tiger side of the Hexadome. The Gorillas hung their heads low, such a proud race bound to servitude by the Winter Tiger, he savoured watching every single beast lower his head in shame. Power was intoxicating and it was time for Hitback to learn that the hard way.

  ‘Steelclaw and Oakenclaw, what say you?’ asked Winter, knowing full well the twins were all ready and waiting. The two most reliable killers he possessed in his ranks, a wicked idea came to the Winter Tiger’s, an opportunity to reassert his authority with every single Tiger aboard Darkchurch.

  The twins had already hopped down into the arena floor, scuffing the dirt creating puffs of dust. They danced around in fighting stances taunting the Gorillas. That soon stopped when Winter announced their opponent, ‘I’m long overdue some sparring,’ Winter bound down the steps and leapt over the wooden gate blocking him off from the arena floor.

  A pair of braids swished around, and the twins stood before Winter, they had stopped prancing around to regard their leader. Both cocked their heads, giving each other a sideways glance. The three of them weren’t in full armour. The Hexadome wasn’t a place to sit in armour plating. Instead, the Tigers sparred in nothing more than golden cuirasses and metal-plated black leather shorts.

  Steelclaw’s sickly yellow eyes bore into Winter as his mouth fluttered preparing to speak, ‘Is this a trick General, sir?’ His sultry tone betrayed nothing to Winter.

  ‘Or a test?’ added Oakenclaw, the blunter instrument of the two twins gave away fear with his words.

  ‘Of sorts, yes, but not for you two.’ Winter used his eyes to lead the twins view over to Hitback who was sat in the front row next to Blackfire. Hitback’s confusion was evident and Blackfire’s granite visage gave nothing away. Winter liked keeping Blackfire around, the old Tiger served as a constant reminder, a thorn in his side, that weakness meant failure or death or worse still...serving anoth
er.

  Steelclaw’s rasping laugh startled his brother who wasn’t up to speed with the insinuation. ‘Understood, sir, first to three?’

  ‘Agreed.’ The Winter Tiger was already charging, he swooped low to pick up a sparring sword and arched it up in one fluid motion. The commotion kicked up huge amounts of dirt and on instinct the twins parted, darting away from what they thought was Winter’s opening charge. Instead, the moment the dust kicked up, Winter halted and shanked right and came upon Oakenclaw as he fled the dust cloud. Winter slammed the butt of his sword onto the smaller Tiger’s chest, denting the metal, and sending him crashing to the floor.

  ‘One nil.’ Winter stood, foot now on Oakenclaw’s chest.

  ‘Very good, General.’ Oakenclaw coughed as the dust wafted across his face.

  ‘Get up, brother!’ Steelclaw snarled, staring at Winter, twirling two sparring swords as he shuffled around Winter’s side. Steelclaw was fast, probably the fastest Tiger at Winter’s disposal but his desire to remain unpredictable made him utterly predictable. Every movement he made was never the obvious choice, which meant the obvious choice could be eliminated and used to provide an attack point. Steelclaw sprinted across the dirt, a metre from Winter he ducked left and the moment he did that Winter poked his sword right meeting Steelclaw full on as he darted back from his original feign.

  ‘Damn it!’ exclaimed Steelclaw. ‘Well played, sir.’

  The last point took Winter a little longer, the brothers teaming up to attack him at once. It was the smarter play and if they’d started off in that fashion they might have had him but at two-nil down they were too far behind and Winter eventually parried a slash from Oakenclaw, clattering him into his twin allowing Winter to crash his sword down into both their chests with one slash.

  The twins skulked off without a word.

  ‘Huzzah!’

  ‘Well played, General!’

  Several calls of praise echoed out around the arena; the Gorillas remained silent. General Modela had joined their ranks now and was sat in the front row. He nodded at Winter when they caught each other’s eyes.

  ‘And now time for tonight’s main event!’ roared the Winter Tiger, kicking up more dirt. He’d barely broken a sweat with the twins, if anything they’d loosened him up for a challenge. ‘Hitback,’ a gasp escaped the enormous Tiger, ‘join me in the arena.’

  Hitback didn’t move a muscle; well not until Blackfire shoved him down into the arena floor.

  ‘Fight, you coward,’ said Blackfire, the near-black Tiger stood and headed up the marble ring staircase.

  ‘Not staying to watch?’ Winter knew he was teasing the former leader, but he couldn’t help himself. He was having too much fun.

  ‘I’ve watched you destroy enough creatures in my time, sir.’ Blackfire turned halfway up the stairs and bowed, an over the top bow. As he returned to upright Winter could see the wide eyes of terror, the old Tiger knew he’d make a mistake publicly insulting Winter. You’ll pay for that later. Still Winter let the old Tiger leave, even signalling for the ferocious Tigers staring daggers at Blackfire to stand down.

  ‘Fair enough.’ Winter spun full circle; a flurry of dust kicked up. ‘It appears our former leader is a little tired. Can someone have milk sent to Blackfire’s quarters!’

  Laughter erupted amongst the Tigers.

  Blackfire stopped in his stride, yes come on do it, I want you to do it, he remained still for several heartbeats before his back sighed and he continued to walk out of the arena. Another time perhaps.

  While the ballet of leadership ebbed and flowed between Winter and Blackfire, Hitback had composed himself in the arena and now stood before Winter holding a circular golden shield and a sparring sword.

  ‘No, Hitback.’ Winter threw his sparring sword to the ground. ‘No weapons, no shields, no armour. Tonight, we fight like our ancestors, first blood wins.’

  Hitback’s face blanched, the five wire-thin scars on his cheek twitched but nonetheless he obeyed the order and dropped everything in his paws. He even went as far as to remove his gold cuirass. Winter copied and then they were ready to square off, two primal beasts down on all fours vaulting toward each other. They slammed hard, Hitback nearly sent Winter off-balance, much to Winter’s surprise before he righted himself using his tail to keep from falling.

  Winter rolled away several times, each time evading the violent punches and slashes delivered, stunned by Hitback’s speed before calming into the task. Yes, keep coming. The crowd’s back was up, even some of the Gorillas were cheering, most likely wanting to witness Winter’s demise. Not today.

  The crowd’s fervour had encouraged Hitback to keep pushing on with cumbersome hacks of his paws, each one slow and obvious. Winter let the larger Tiger keep coming, with every attempted and failed attack Hitback tired, the entire time Winter was shuffling and using minimal energy.

  ‘Fight you coward!’ roared Hitback, sweat pouring down his white and orange face, he bared his fangs and leapt only to be met with a thunderous uppercut from Winter that landed straight in Hitback’s gut. Winter heard a distinctive crack followed by an anguished yelp. Hitback stumbled backward and went to one knee, submitting.

  ‘Does anyone see blood?’ Winter called to the crowd.

  ‘No!’ multiple Tigers shouted.

  ‘Keep going!’ encouraged others.

  Hitback looked back up, his eyes bulging, he’d meant to stop, and Winter couldn’t help but smile as he bound forward and slashed his claws straight across Hitback’s throat. Blood spouted out in great gushes as Hitback slumped to the dirt. Winter ensured it wasn’t a fatal blow but Hitback would have some serious recovering to do after that wound.

  ‘All hail General Winter!’ the arena boomed its adulation for the Winter Tiger.

  10. Training Lupus

  ‘Put your backs into it, c’mon, what are you Wolves or Mice!’ the Red Lion roared. Star Wolf thought he detected an element of good humour as the Lion padded, on all fours, down the back of the line of Wolves. Nearly two hundred of them were pulling ropes toward themselves, gradually, hand-over-hand. At the other end of the ropes were cinder blocks half the size and three times the weight of a standard Wolf. It was a gruelling task but one the Red Lion had every single Wolf perform every day, which was hard enough, but he requested it at the end of each day.

  It was a final task given to the Wolves; one they weren’t permitted to leave unfinished.

  ‘It trains the body and mind to accept that there’s always more to come, and to never give up. No surrender. No victory.’ The Red Lion had explained one evening when he and Star dined together. Star liked the imperious Lion and had more Lions turned up he would’ve insisted the Red Lion lead the war effort.

  ‘Excellent!’ said the Red Lion, now stood on hind legs, he moved around the front of the latest batch of Wolves to clap them home. ‘Well done. Another day and look at that another set of Wolves primed and ready for battle. You know I think this is the most fearsome batch I’ve trained since arriving on Lupus. You are a credit to your planet. I salute you.’ He slammed a clenched paw into the proud golden lion head sewn into the centre of his tunic.

  Hundreds of Wolves grinned as they returned the salute and trudged away to their homes, most likely to collapse and sleep for two days.

  The Red Lion gave the same speech at the end of every night, even if some of the Wolves had fallen and required a helping hand pulling their block home. Star Wolf loved the passion and skilled nuances the Red Lion imbued on every Wolf he met; he was a true leader who inspired confidence and, in the battles, to come would lead from the front.

  ‘I should’ve been with you on Agnus,’ the Red Lion had said another evening when they ate together. ‘I must admit I didn’t think Agnus held that much value, especially when all scanners marked it as desolate. It does beg the question, where all the Lambs are?’

  ‘I doubt we’ll ever discover the truth.’ Star had scoured the entire planet, wasting a solid week searching
for a trace of the Lambs and a much-needed source of meat and all to no avail. ‘The Winter Tiger must’ve had them transported.’

  That evening, a rare warmer evening in the icy-cold of Lupus, the Red Lion had gone hard at a barrel of beer and given Star the queerest look. ‘You’re not scared of the Winter Tiger, are you?’ He appeared curious.

  Star had paused and given it real thought. He was desperate to impress the Red Lion and he realised, the Winter Tiger. ‘At first, I was a little, here and there but as time passed, no. I am no longer afraid of the Winter Tiger.’

  The Lion had hiccupped and staggered to his feet, crashing the chair behind him onto the stone floor. ‘You know I can’t decide if that makes you a fool or a very brave creature.’

  ‘Probably a bit of both,’ Star had conceded.

  The Red Lion raised his horn of beer, spilling most of it over his crimson jumper, before slumping onto the long dining table. He cocked his head to regard Star. ‘Well, one thing’s for sure,’ he hiccupped again and rolled onto his back.

  ‘What’s that?’ Star remained seated, for he too was drunk.

  ‘Your experiences are teaching you wisdom.’ The great hulking Lion sighed gently. ‘Don’t ever lose that quality, always learn.’ He then gave into sleep.

  Star decided he would join the final batch of Wolves for an intensive days training. The night before he’d had a cask of wine sent to the Red Lion, a fine vintage from Testudo Graeca, the Tortoise sure knew how to create a quality drop. Star supposed their long lives and patient nature helped. It was a fine gift and one he hoped would slow the Red Lion down the following morning.

  ‘Good morning you fine fellows.’ The Red Lion was in a chipper mood, bouncing as he strolled down the line of Wolves. He stopped by Star, in the midst of the ranks. ‘Star, there you are.’ He placed a paw on Star’s shoulder, leaning in close. ‘Thank you for the wine, an excellent drop, you sly young Wolf.’ He stepped back to address everyone. ‘But know this,’ he said with a huge grin across his muzzle, his mane blustered in the wind, ‘wine only invigorates my senses. Today we shall go at it like no other group before!’