Werewolf Castle

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Werewolf Castle Page 8

by Tracy Falbe


  “In the kitchen last I knew,” Arda answered.

  “Thank you. I’ll see you soon,” he said although he knew anything might be about to happen.

  ******

  Thal sliced into the slab of pork with his hunting knife and then stabbed the piece with the point. He placed the food in his mouth delicately and tried not to sigh aloud at the pleasing flavor. He admittedly had a fondness for pork although hogs were ornery beasts to hunt.

  As he continued with his dinner, he watched the door while chewing. The trio of men at the other end of the table were enthralled by their dice game. One roll made a man shout with delight, but then they all looked over their shoulders and closed ranks around their dice cup. He assumed some widely ignored local edict barred dicing.

  When the serving wench came to refill his stein of beer, another woman accompanied her. She was skinny and had a sassy gleam in her eye. Her brown hair was curled and a little disorderly.

  Thal’s eyes widened a little when she presumed to slide onto the bench next to him.

  “Welcome to Zilina,” she said. Thal was certain her friendly smile intended to suggest something.

  “Enjoying your meal?” she asked.

  “Yes,” he said, choosing to be guarded with his words. He had not taken much notice of women since falling in love with Altea, but he was now recalling that women took much notice of him.

  “I haven’t seen you before. Do you have business at the palace?” the woman said.

  “Yes.”

  His monosyllabic game amused her. She glanced at the pistols and studied his armor.

  “Oh, look at that,” she said and touched the lead ball embedded in the plate metal over his chest. “Do you get shot at often?”

  He pondered his response and admitted, “Yes.”

  This time she laughed and used her mirth as a pretense for leaning on him. Her dainty breasts rubbed his arm. “We have nice rooms upstairs,” she said.

  He saw Regis enter the tavern with his musical mates. Pistol trotted happily among their familiar feet, proud of his achievement. Regis spotted Thal instantly and grinned at his friend’s situation.

  Approaching the table with Raphael and Carlo in tow, Regis said, “Does she have a friend for me?”

  Thal shifted away from the woman and cast a disapproving look upon his hostess. “She has business elsewhere,” he said.

  His rejection seemed to disappoint her, and Thal actually felt a twinge of sympathy for her feelings.

  Regis stood aside as she left the bench. He graced her with a his charming smile. “You’re new here,” he commented. After a curt nod, she departed, and Regis sat next to Thal. The men embraced happily in the Venetian fashion.

  “E bello vederti!” Regis exclaimed.

  Thal stood and embraced Raphael and Carlo across the table before they took seats. His dog nosed his knee, and Thal gave him a piece of pork under the table.

  “You look well,” Regis said.

  “My father healed me,” Thal said. An unspoken memory of despair passed among his friends because he had been afflicted by poison when last they saw him.

  “So all is well with your father?” Carlo asked.

  Admiration lit Thal’s face. “We are very glad to be together,” he said.

  “Where is Altea?” Regis asked.

  “She stayed in Vlkbohveza to continue recuperating,” Thal answered.

  “And you’re here discovering how friendly Zilina can be,” Regis teased and tossed a glance toward the curly-haired woman who was talking to another man.

  “I had nothing to do with that woman,” Thal said.

  Regis patted his arm. “I’m sure, my friend. If it was not for sweet Altea, you’d still be blind to women,” he said.

  Thal rolled his eyes. During their many travels, Regis had often commented on Thal’s lack of talent for debauchery.

  “Perhaps it’s best you don’t encourage women because they are drawn to you so strongly. Such a thing can be a tiresome curse,” Regis said and swept back his golden hair.

  Raphael laughed. “I’ve not noticed you overtaxed by your curse,” he said.

  “Women want Thal more than me,” Regis said.

  “Women want most what they can’t have, just like men,” Thal interjected.

  “Well said,” Raphael agreed. “What brings you to Zilina?”

  “To check on you fools, of course,” Thal said, and they all laughed.

  “That Duchess treats you well I hope,” Thal said.

  “Indeed, she’s one of the best,” Regis praised.

  Thal took a sip of his beer and said, “I’m glad you found me because I need a favor.”

  “Anything, Thal,” Regis said. His friends nodded sincerely.

  “I need you to get me into the palace,” Thal said.

  “Did they stop you at the gate?” Carlo wondered.

  “No, but I thought it best if I didn’t use the front door,” Thal explained.“Then, we’ll take you through the back door,” Carlo said.

  “Let’s wait until dark,” Regis suggested.

  “Good, let’s share a drink until then,” Thal said and hailed the maid.

  “You only need us to get you in the palace?” Regis asked.

  “Is that too little?” Thal said.

  The singer waved a hand and searched for a response. “I thought there might be more for us to know about this. Will someone want to cut my tongue out?” he said.

  “Not that I know of,” Thal said.

  After glancing around, Regis leaned close to Thal and whispered, “Once we get you inside, are you going to…”

  “Do you think I’ll need to?” Thal said playfully.

  “Be serious,” Regis complained. “What’s going on? Are you going to kill somebody?”

  “That’s not my intention at all. In fact, the Duke asked to speak with me, so here I am,” Thal said.

  “What does he want to talk to you about?” Regis asked.

  “To be honest, my friend, this could be a trap. That’s why I need to arrive discreetly,” Thal explained.

  “Aha! I knew there must be some element of danger,” Regis said triumphantly.

  The men quieted as the maid distributed beer. Raphael raised his mug. “Let’s toast to Thal’s health,” he said, and they cheerfully drank.

  While dusk gathered over the town, the friends caught up on personal news. Thal described Vlkbohveza, and the musicians said that they were pleased with the patronage of Duchess Agatha. They were content with their lot, but Regis did not rule out the possibility of wanderlust striking again, but certainly not with winter coming in.

  “How are things between you and Mileko?” Carlo inquired.

  “The same as ever, I suppose,” Thal muttered. He had not spent much time with his father’s protege since reaching Vlkbohveza. Mileko had been sent off promptly to spy on Tekax, but Thal decided not to mention that.

  “I’m sure he’s glad to be rid of us,” Regis joked.

  “I think he’s happiest alone,” Thal said. “Anyway, let us go. If I buy you more drinks, I might never get you out of here.”

  His friends laughed and got up. They placed themselves around him as they walked down the street. They circled the palace and came to a small side door. Regis knocked.

  “Who is it?” The guard’s voice revealed his weariness.

  “Regis.”

  The little slot in the door slid open. A set of eyes squinted through. Next, the guard unbarred the door and hauled it open. A torch blazed on the sooty wall of the archway, and he recognized the Venetian players as they came through. The fact that an extra man was among them apparently escaped his attention.

  “Couldn’t you have used the front?” he complained. “I’d wish his lordship would brick up this damn door instead of making me let servants in and out.”

  “Do not be so selfish,” Raphael teased. “Just think how busy your comrades would be at the front gate if the household did not have this door to use.”
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  “Uhum,” the guard grunted. He barred the door and went back to his bench.

  Thal followed his friends across a small yard that adjoined the servants’ wing of the palace. “That was easy. Duke Thurzo must not be too concerned about hostile men getting in,” Thal said.

  “He wouldn’t last long in Venice,” Regis commented.

  “Which way to find the Duke?” Thal asked. The palace compound was only vaguely familiar to him. Fext poison had clouded his mind when last he had been in this place.

  Regis led him around the servants’ wing. The frosted grounds of the inner palace separated them from the official ducal wing. Two servants with torches were moving through the grounds and lighting braziers. The fiery light sprinkled the tips of evergreens that overlooked barren flower gardens. Most of the dead leaves had been swept away. At the edges of the darkness, Thal’s keen eyes detected the bare branches of plum and pear trees. Across the gardens was a long building of neatly cut stones. Sculptures of bears and wolves attended the eaves of the slate roof. On rainy days, their snarling stone mouths expelled the water.

  Regis counted three windows from the west end of the building and said, “That is the quarters of the Duke’s secretary.”

  “I see a candle,” Thal said. “I’ll start there. Thank you for your help.”

  “You need nothing else?” Carlo asked.

  “No. I only wish that I should have more time to spend with you. I’ve missed your company,” Thal said.

  Regis laughed. “Life has been a bit dull since you left us,” he said.

  “That was the goal,” Raphael recalled.

  “Truly, dull as in lacking in terror,” Regis amended.

  “I’m sure it won’t last,” Carlo grumbled.

  “Let me leave you in peace, my friends,” Thal said.

  Regis raised a hand. “Extend my salutations when you return to Altea,” he said.

  “I will,” Thal said. He crossed the garden. Pistol detoured on his own investigations but caught up to his master when Thal reached the secretary’s glazed window. He tapped on the glass.

  He heard some movement and spotted a figure advancing on the window. The glass distorted the candlelight as he approached, and Thal could not see the man’s face.

  “Who’s there?” the man within demanded.

  Thal gestured for the man to open the window. Reluctantly, he reached for the latch. He eased open the window very slightly and kept a firm hold on the handle.

  Thal leaned into the crack and whispered, “I’m looking for the Duke’s secretary.”

  “Who are you?” the man said with an entirely unsympathetic tone.

  “Thal of Vlkbohveza. His Lordship wishes to speak with me.”

  The window snapped shut, and the man retreated rapidly. Thal assumed that his name had aroused the man to action, and he waited for something to happen. Eventually, a pair of guards emerged from a door farther down the building. Thal lifted a hand in greeting, and the men rushed toward him with spears. Thal called off his little snarling dog, heaved a sigh, and put up both hands. One of the guards proceeded to disarm him and soon found himself fumbling with an armful of pistols, knives, and a falchion. The secretary came out toting a lantern.

  “Please inform the Duke that I’m here,” Thal instructed.

  “Lock him up,” the secretary said.

  Thal briefly considered putting up a fight. Even without his weapons, he was reasonably certain he could wrestle the guards, but he chose to wait.

  ******

  The valet settled the silk-lined felt robe over Duke Thurzo’s shoulders.

  “That’ll be all for this evening,” Thurzo said.

  “Very well, Lordship,” the man said.

  Thurzo sat in a comfortable chair. A trio of beeswax candles occupied the little table at his elbow where a small printed book awaited him.

  Just as he opened the cover, he heard his valet speak to his secretary at the door.

  “What is it?” the Duke called.

  The secretary rushed inside. He looked over his shoulder to make sure the valet could not overhear. Presuming to lean closer, he said, “My Duke, a man claiming to be Thal of Vlkbohveza is here.”

  “Here?” Thurzo said, coming to his feet.

  “We’ve captured him,” the secretary said.

  “Captured?” Thurzo repeated skeptically.

  “He surrendered to us,” the secretary corrected.

  Thurzo considered the surprising news. He could gain much favor with the Church and not a small measure of notoriety with his people if he prosecuted the werewolf, but he was not in great need of such things. Private sources of power appealed to him more than that doled out by other entities or the whim of the mob.

  “Bring him here. Tell no one his name. Speak not of this at all,” he instructed.

  “To your private chambers, my Duke?” the secretary asked.

  “Yes.” His terse tone warned the man not to question him again.

  After the secretary left, Thurzo picked out a dagger from a wall rack and put it in his robe pocket. He was settled back into his chair when two men arrived with Thal. A small dog was at his heels.

  Thurzo recognized the confidence of the individual between the guards. His presence silently overwhelmed the men at his elbows. Thurzo had no doubt that Thal could thrash them in a trice if provoked. The Duke felt an instinctive uncertainty when he looked at him, like when one is confronted by a big dog that has no master.

  “Leave us,” Thurzo instructed.

  After a brief hesitation, the guards left. Thal shut his dog out in the hall and then approached the Duke.

  With a deep bow, he said, “You demanded a conversation with me, my Duke.”

  “I had expected to set the time and place of our meeting,” Thurzo said.

  “You should have sent instructions,” Thal said.

  The impertinent comment reminded the Duke that he was not the only one with power in this room.

  Thal added, “My Duke, I thought it right to respond to your call with haste. Really, I’m intervening on your behalf. My father was much provoked when you imposed a condition upon him, but I wanted to meet you and express my gratitude for the hospitality you showed me when I was in a poor way. You treated my wife kindly, as well, and I thank you for extending her such courtesy.”

  “Ah, yes, your wife. Her candor surprised me. Usually a woman uses lies to get her way,” Thurzo said.

  “I would have there be honesty between us,” Thal said.

  “And a rare thing that is,” Thurzo said. He shifted in his chair and discreetly made sure that his dagger remained handy. “And what is your truth? Are you the Thal that has committed so many crimes in Prague?”

  “I am.”

  “Did you kill those you are accused of killing?” Thurzo asked.

  “Does my Duke not believe what is written in the many official notices concerning me?” Thal wondered.

  “I believe in confirming things for myself,” he explained.

  “Very well, then, yes, it’s true. I slew many in Prague, but I assure you that they deserved their fate,” Thal said. He contained the wave of grief that pushed on his chest as he recalled the vengeance that his mother’s magic had driven him to exact.

  “Do you change into a wolf as they say?” Thurzo asked.

  Thal threw open his cloak and drew out the wolf hide that he had concealed beneath it. He advanced slowly with the heavy fur draped across his arms. Candlelight twinkled on the fur. It shone with vitality, as if living muscle rippled beneath it.

  “I could show you if you like,” Thal proposed.

  Despite his usual ability to hide his feelings, Thurzo’s eyes widened. Terrible curiosity gnawed at him. He wanted to see the forbidden and yet believed that he should keep his chambers free of such frightening sorcery.

  While he considered his answer, Thal turned the fur over and revealed the dark runes. “I speak this incantation with the fur upon my body and I become the wol
f inside me,” he explained.

  “You are a wolf inside?” the Duke said.

  “Always.”

  Now that Thal was farther into the candlelight, Thurzo could see his face more fully. A short beard framed his mouth of noticeably white and straight teeth. His handsome face appeared normal at first glance, but his eyes jarred the Duke. Indescribable in color, they looked back at him with startling intensity and unknown intentions.

  “I do not need to see. Not here,” Thurzo decided.

  “As you wish. I only thought it polite to offer,” Thal said.

  “Polite?” Thurzo chuckled. “You mean rather that you wished to intimidate me.”

  “Perhaps,” Thal admitted.

  “It’s not necessary. The reputation of your father remains significantly intimidating, especially to my people,” Thurzo said.

  “He is a great man,” Thal said.

  “And what of you? Shall you be great like him?” Thurzo said.

  “My powers are new to me. I’m only beginning to find my way in this world. I have long been separate from the concerns of men,” Thal explained.

  Thurzo did not quite grasp what Thal meant, but he supposed it referred to some magical experience that he was not likely to understand. He moved on to what concerned him.

  “Thal, we are both men bound to our fathers. I’ve been saddled with the obligations of my father to your father. He answered the call of my family in our darkest hour. He was well rewarded, and now wishes to claim his final payment,” he said.

  “And this troubles you,” Thal surmised.

  “It is much to ask.”

  “I do not ask it easily,” Thal said.

  “So, you ask it of me?” Thurzo said.

  “I do. Those you send shall be my servants,” Thal said.

  Thurzo heard resignation in Thal’s voice and judged that the creature before him made his demands because of need and not desire.

  Thal continued, “My Duke, I promise that we shall not hurt you or yours. We have an enemy, who has long served the Turks, and we intend to move against him as soon as possible.”

  “Where?”

  “He occupies a fortress in the Highlands of Hungary,” Thal answered.

  “And what shall you do with these volunteers I will send you?” Thurzo pressed. He observed the subtle discomfort that crept through Thal’s body.

 

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