PATH OF THE TIGER
VOLUME I of the TOOTH, CLAW AND STEEL EPIC
J.M. Hemmings
THIS BOOK IS WRITTEN IN BRITISH ENGLISH
Copyright © 2019 Jonathan Hemmings
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the publisher, except by reviewers, who may quote brief passages in a review.
This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues are products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. While certain historical characters and incidents are mentioned, these are not intended to be accurate historical representations of said characters and incidents.
ISBN (MOBI): 978-1-990930-27-0
Cover design by $k1NnYBw0Y
Cover image: detail of The Tiger Hunt (1616) by Peter Paul Rubens (Public Domain)
Published by Tree Agama Press
Visit the author’s website at www.jmhemmings.com
For all the victims, human and nonhuman, of the Sixth Mass Extinction
TABLE OF CONTENTS
PROLOGUE
1 – WILLIAM
2 – ABOUBAKAR
3 – WILLIAM
4 – CHLOE
5 – ADRIANA
6 – SIGURD
7 – SIGURD
8 – NATHAN
9 – WILLIAM
10 – WILLIAM
11 – WILLIAM
12 – OCTAVIAN
13 – LUCIUS
14 – LUCIUS
15 – MARGARET
16 – MARGARET
17 – ADRIANA
18 – ADRIANA
19 – CHLOE
20 – ZAKARIA
21 – CHLOE
22 – WILLIAM
23 – WILLIAM
24 – WILLIAM
25 – MARGARET
26 – MARGARET
27 – MR MA
28 – NATHAN
29 – MR MA
30 – WILLIAM
31 – WILLIAM
32 – WILLIAM
33 – ESCAPE PART ONE
34 – ESCAPE PART TWO
35 – WILLIAM
36 – WILLIAM
37 – VIRIDOVIX
38 – BATIATUS
39 – SPARTACUS
40 – MARGARET
41 – MARGARET
42 – MARGARET
43 – WILLIAM
44 – WILLIAM
45 – ADRIANA
46 – WILLIAM
47 – WILLIAM
48 – WILLIAM
49 – WILLIAM
50 – RANOMI
51 – NJINGA
52 – WILLIAM
53 – SIGURD
54 – LIGHTNING BIRD
55 – SIGURD
56 – COLONEL RUDD
57 – MARGARET
58 – MARGARET
59 – THE GENERAL
60 – LUCIUS
61 – SPARTACUS
62 – LUCIUS
63 – VIRIDOVIX
64 – VIRIDOVIX
65 – WILLIAM
66 – WILLIAM
67 – HROTHGAR
68 – BATTLE PART I
69 – BATTLE PART II
70 – WILLIAM
71 – WILLIAM
‘In San creation mythology, it is believed that before mankind entered the time of order, rules and society, men and animals lived as equals, as brothers and sisters, and were able to shift forms at will; human could become animal, and animal could become human. They believed that this gift was lost when humankind harnessed the gift of fire – a treacherous gift that separated them from their animal kin, who feared its destructive power. With the passage of many generations, men forgot about their animal forms, severed the bonds of kinship with their animal brethren, and started instead to walk a new path, living under constructed shelters, covering their bodies with clothes, and using tools to cultivate crops and manipulate the earth. However, it was known that a small fraction of men and women nonetheless retained the ancient, pre-civilisation blessing and were able to preserve the connection they had with their animal bodies and souls, into which they were able to change at will. Truly holy were these rare individuals, who walked the earth on lonely paths that spanned uncountable summers and winters, whose years far surpassed the short lifespans of ordinary people. They were the holiest of shamans, the demi-gods, the living links to that earliest and most sacred time of creation and now-lost unity of all life on Earth.’
An Anthropological History of the Kalahari Bushmen, 1982, Dr J.C. De Wet.
'Jacques Michel Lefevre was tried in court before the Magistrate of Carcassonne on the third day of September, the year of our Lord 1594, on the charges of werewolfery and murder while in the form of a werewolf. At the trial, Lefevre confessed to the vile crime of werewolfery, but vehemently denied any association with the Devil or any of his dark servants, including human witches and warlocks. The wretch claimed that he and his werewolf brethren were working for the good of mankind against dark forces bent on domination, subjugation and destruction. He refused absolution from the parish priest and thereby the chance of a merciful death, offered in exchange for a confession of his Devil-worship and the renunciation of his evil werewolf powers, and was then broken on the wheel and finally burned at the stake for his crimes on the 5th day of September, along with two local women convicted of the crime of witchcraft.’
Court records of Carcassonne, France, of the year 1597.
‘Equally at ease
Taking form of fox or girl
She is kitsune.’
Japanese haiku, 1672, author unknown.
The origins of the secret society known as the Huntsmen are not particularly clear, save that they were active before the birth of Christ, and that their secret society was established in Rome, either by a cabal of wealthy citizens or senators of the Republic. Little to nothing is known of the founding members, but what has been clear from the outset is that their primary mission and purpose, throughout recorded history, has always been twofold: their first aim is to utterly exterminate our kind, we who can assume the form of both man and beast, and they will not rest until every last one of us has been purged from existence. The second goal is simple: they aim to rule as gods over all of humanity and conquer the entirety of the living world. Should they succeed in either of these endeavours, an age of darkness hitherto unknown will descend upon the earth.
The Chronicles of N’Jalabenadou, Volume I, 1831, author unknown.
HIGHLY CLASSIFIED; TOP SECRET CLEARANCE REQUIRED
Date: April 20th, 1954
To: Director, FBI
From: Agent BC Pawelczyk, stationed in Takotna, Alaska
Subject: ‘Werebear’/Unidentified Hominoid
Late last night at around 2:15am, Agents Gillespie, Brown and myself, in cooperation with a local tracker, managed to corner and wound a hominoid-type creature deep in the woods, around twelve miles from Takotna. The creature, which in outward appearance is indistinguishable from regular human beings, is able to somehow transmute its physical form from that of a human male into that of a Kamchatka brown bear at will. Whether or not this is some sort of elaborate optical illusion, or an actual biological process which is beyond the realm of current scientific knowledge, will be determined by a number of tests, once we get the creature to HQ. To this end I’d like to request an aeroplane and backup, post-haste; keeping this thing locked up is proving difficult.
Agent Gillespie interrogated the creature, who in outward appearance is an albino Caucasian male, around six foot two and of a wiry build with long, thin limbs, crew-cut platinum hair, and a w
hite goatee. He is able to speak a number of languages, but is most comfortable conversing in Russian, in which Gillespie happens to be fluent. We suspect he may be the result of some sort of Soviet experiment, and he could very well pose a threat to the continental United States if he does turn out to be a biological weapon. The following is Gillespie’s summary of what the creature has told him thus far, details repeated verbatim.
‘My original name was Borislav Ivanovich, although I have gone by a number of different names over the centuries. I started out life as a simple cobbler, but since receiving the blessing of my animal form and the concomitant long life and immunity from disease and decay it has provided, I have lived a number of different lives. I have been a scholar in Constantinople, a trader in jewels and precious metals in Iraq, a composer in Prussia, a monk in Japan, and a pioneering photographer in the earliest days of the American West. These days the Great War – and by this, I am not referring to what is commonly called The First World War, but instead to a war of which you mortals know nothing, a war that has been raging in secret for centuries – has reached such a critical state that I have been forced to fight, if for no other reason than my own survival. So here I am, collecting intelligence and undertaking missions of sabotage in service of the Rebels – a force to whom you people unknowingly owe what little remains of your freedom. This is all I am prepared to tell you at this point; you no doubt think me insane or delusional, so there is no reason for me to continue talking of these matters.’
UPDATE: The hominoid escaped from FBI custody the day after this report was received in Washington, D.C.
‘In the ancient K’Nganwa culture, it was believed that two souls would be forever bound when joined by a love so intense that with its forge-heat it melded their hearts into one. Such a connection was held to be beyond sacred; indeed, it was thought that this love would surpass the barriers of time and the human lifespan. For after the sickle of death cleaved that unified soul into two, each broken soul would thereafter traverse lifetimes – tens, hundreds, thousands – to find its lost complement once more. This was the love of which all the great poets through the ages have written, the master artists have painted and sculpted, and of which the bards have sung since man was birthed from a falling star from the night sky. It is a love that is transcendent, eternal, and the epitome of beauty.’
Annals of Vanished African Civilisations, Volume III (Central Africa and the Great Lakes Region), 2003, translated from ancient Ge’es by Amha Senai.
PROLOGUE
21st June 1908. Remote Ewenki camp, Tunguska Region, 600km North-East of Krasnoyarsk, Siberia, Russia.
‘Turn back,’ the old woman croaked, every syllable wrung from her turkey-neck throat like a reluctant droplet from a damp rag. ‘You have reached the end of the world. There is nothing for you beyond here but death.’
A gust of biting Arctic wind howled through the camp, rippling the Ewenki’s furs and whipping a few strands of her ice-white hair across her tattooed visage. The wind battered the grey greatcoats of the men standing before her, but they stood like stones, each in his assigned place, their weapons gleaming and their gaze steely and unwavering against the surreal, endless twilight of the Siberian summer evening. The old woman’s eyes, two pearls of bright onyx buried in piled folds of skin, glinted as she turned her face to the midnight sun.
‘Death will take you,’ she rasped, ‘as surely it has taken all the others who have come before you. Turn around, go back to your towns and cities and forget this place. Stay there, in your vast grey settlements in your houses of stone, your castles and palaces. Warm yourselves in your great halls by the fires of your hearths, where you burn all the forests of the world, tree by uprooted tree, and tell your grandchildren one day of the time you journeyed to the very end of the earth. Tell them that you stepped into the land of the Old Gods and Goddesses, but that you had enough humility to know that you did not belong there, and that, having peered through the veil that separates your world from Theirs, you realised that this place was not for you. You have come a long way, and you have reached the edge of the known; is this not enough for you? I say again to you, do not venture further, for if you do you will not return.’
Captain Vasilesvky’s blue-grey eyes, almost unsettlingly large, set deep between a prominent aquiline nose and nestled beneath bushy blonde eyebrows, transfixed the old Ewenki’s with a ruthless glare while the interpreter translated.
‘Tell the stubborn old hag,’ Vasilevsky growled in Russian, addressing the interpreter, but staring unflinchingly into the windows to the elderly woman’s soul, ‘that I’ll double my offer if she provides us with a guide. Cold hard roubles in her wrinkled claws, right now. More cash than she’s likely ever seen.’
The interpreter relayed this offer to the Ewenki, who, like her far younger adversary in this set of negotiations, did not once break eye contact. Sinkholes, however, slowly appeared in the corners of her gash of a mouth as she listened, deepening the gouges and scored hollows of her visage, which was tattooed all over with arcane patterns.
‘You want to pay us that much to lead you to your own death?’ she squawked, and the strangled chuckles that erupted from her throat echoed in mocking waves across the camp. ‘You are mad,’ she continued, shaking her head and sighing. ‘You are all mad, like the others who came before you, and the others before them when I was but a girl. And as surely as they perished out there, punished for their arrogance by the Old Gods and Goddesses, so too will you perish.’
Vasilevsky’s face hardened as the crone’s wheezing laughter rang in his ears. His gloved right hand, meaty and strong, slid instinctively – and subtly – across his hips, and his fingers curled around the ornate hilt of his sabre. Before he could unsheathe the weapon, however, the officer next to him gripped his forearm with quick, quiet urgency.
‘Please let her know,’ Captain Higgins instructed as he took over, his Russian smoothly fluent but coloured with the unmistakable tinge of an English accent, ‘that she can, with all due respect, keep her opinions about our mission to herself.’ The twinkle that glimmered in his small brown eyes, and the deepening of the crinkled crow’s feet next to them straddled, with a smidgen of discomfort, the smeared divide between gentle compassion and veiled condescension. ‘All we are asking for is a guide to take us to the place we discussed, a request not by any means unreasonable. We swear on our honour, as oath-bound members of an ancient organisation of a most prestigious and noble pedigree, that we will not desecrate the site; we understand well its religious significance to her people. We simply wish to conduct some scientific research in the region, you see. Now, we have presented a most generous offer to this woman, as chief elder and medicine woman of this band, and all that we ask is that she discuss it with the young men of her clan. And perhaps instead of money, which her people have little use for out here, we will promise them our rifles and ammunition on our return. They will make for far more efficient hunting than spears and bows.’
While he spoke, Higgins maintained his firm, cautionary grip on his counterpart’s forearm, preventing him from drawing his weapon and unnecessarily escalating this situation. At the age of forty-three he was Vasilevsky’s elder by a mere decade, but their personalities marked them as being men of different generations. Higgins, by far the more conservative of the two, had been assigned command by his superiors precisely because of his even temperament and his diplomatic ability to defuse conflict, notwithstanding his martial abilities and extensive military experience. With so much hanging in the balance in terms of this mission’s goals, there could be no room for failure. Vasilevsky was tough as nails, a fearless if impulsive leader, and a ferocious fighter who had participated in the 1905 Revolution; a man of his time, of this epoch of rapid change, of the overturning of old ways and the uprooting of antiquated traditions and outdated customs. However, in spite of, or perhaps because of the revolutionary ideals he clasped with such fervent devotion to his breast, he lacked finesse when it came to negotiat
ing more delicate situations.
Vasilevsky grunted and jerked his arm from Higgins’ grasp. At six foot two, he was a good few inches taller than his compatriot, and in addition was broader of shoulder and stouter of limb, but what the older, thinner man lacked in brute strength he made up for in speed and dexterity; he could move his sabre with astonishing rapidity and deadly precision, and he was well-versed in the art of combat. Higgins glared briefly at Vasilevsky, but in an instant he wiped the sourness from his long face. His pinched, angular features softened into a more amicable expression, a cordial smile sparkling with equal sincerity in his deep-set eyes and on his wide mouth, of which only his lower lip was visible. The rest of it was concealed behind an impressive walrus moustache, which, like what little hair remained on his balding pate, was mousy brown, streaked liberally with grey.
The interpreter, a middle-aged Ewenki man from a band who lived far closer to civilisation than this one, evidently had a way with words, for he managed to persuade the old woman to at least allow the outsiders to make camp here for the night. However, despite the offer of the rifles and ammunition, which would be a great boon to this band of pastoralist hunter-gatherers, the elder seemed no more willing to assist them than she had been prior to the upgrading of reward.