Werewolf Castle

by Tracy Falbe

  Mileko brought out a cloth to hold against Sarputeen’s cut.

  Altea left and caught up with Thal. He glowered with dissatisfaction. She understood that his mother’s magic had driven him to vengeful acts in Prague, and now she wondered what folly his father might inspire him to commit just because of loyalty.

  Everyone hiked the woodland trail in silence. A heavily clouded sky bore down upon the mountains with the threat of snow. Discontented, Thal disliked the thought of spending a tedious night in the old castle. He considered that he would shift and patrol the forests. The open land would sweeten his temper and perhaps supply the inspiration that his father expected to strike him. He did believe his father’s warning about Tekax attacking them. He remembered the fext and the terrible yet futile wounds that he had inflicted on the foul flesh. That thing would come for him, and he resolved to guard his territory.

  Comforted somewhat by his small plan of action, Thal looked ahead on the trail as he emerged from the trees and was surprised to see a rider and a cart approaching the castle.

  He stopped so abruptly that Altea bumped into him. His father’s prediction about someone coming, that he had scorned so easily, suddenly shouted at him with triumphant certainty. Thal scolded himself for doubting his great father’s power and broke into a run.

  He met the visitors before they reached the castle gate. One man with long white hair rode the horse, and a younger fellow drove the cart. Slush and ice clogged its wheels that the straining horse had hauled faithfully up the long road from lower lands. Someone huddled in the back of the cart.

  “Who are you?” Thal asked. He spoke with authority but was not unfriendly for he sensed no hostility from the people.

  The person in the back hopped out of the cart. A dingy wool cloak swaddled her. She held the hood about her chin to keep back the chill. Long exposure outdoors had made her nose and cheeks miserably pink, and snot glistened at her nostrils.

  Her blue eyes struck Thal with some familiarity, but they seemed so utterly out of place upon the road-weary woman that he struggled to accept what he saw.

  “Thal! Oh, thank God, I’ve found you!” she declared and rushed up to him awkwardly on stiff legs. She clutched his hand and pressed her forehead against his knuckles.

  He remained dumbfounded until she straightened and pushed back the hood.

  “I know I must look a fright,” she said and smoothed down her thick dark hair.

  Her accent, crisp and sparkling with the sound of cosmopolitan Prague, granted Thal the ability to recognize her.

  “Lady Carmelita,” he said. “It cannot be.”

  “It is,” she whispered as if only marveling at the strangeness of her situation instead of experiencing its hardship directly.

  Questions stacked up quickly in Thal’s mind, but he could see that she was shivering, and he could not bear to ply her with questions while standing out in the wind.

  “Come in,” he invited and gave her his arm. She leaned on it heavily, and he knew that some tragedy weighed upon her. He assumed miserably that he had somehow been the cause of her trouble. She had harbored him in Prague, and that might have been her undoing.

  Altea caught up to them, and the sight of a woman hanging on her husband’s arm startled her.

  “It’s Lady Carmelita from Prague come to see us,” Thal said.

  Altea blinked as she took in the information and slowly accepted it. She had attended a ball given by the widow and been presented to Carmelita. Connecting the memory of the dazzling woman in the finest and most stylish clothing with the bedraggled refugee before her took some effort.

  But when Altea accepted what she saw, her heart gushed with compassion. She rushed to take the woman’s other arm.

  “Let us get you warmed up,” Altea said.

  Thal looked to his pack. They watched with open curiosity, and Thal imagined that they were rethinking Sarputeen’s words just as he had.

  “I know her,” he announced to them, and they brightened. He then asked Harvath and Johan to attend to Carmelita’s companions.

  Sarputeen had hung back on the trail. Like a sentinel wrapped in white fur, he watched Thal lead the woman into his castle. His utter stillness nearly concealed him, but his spirit quivered with excitement.

  Chapter 20. A Disgraced Noble Lady

  Thal and Altea took the lady of Prague into the castle’s kitchen where the baking and roasting fires heated the thick stone walls.

  They ushered the woman into a chair near the hearth. Carmelita used her shaking hands to pull out a handkerchief and wipe her nose. Thal fetched a crockery mug and poured some hot water from the kettle. She wrapped her hands around the hot drink and slurped warming sips.

  Altea peeled off the woman’s cloak, now dotted with melted snowflakes. A servant scooped some coals into two pans. She wrapped a wool blanket around one and set the other by Carmelita’s feet. Altea removed her guest’s shoes and scooted the pan closer. Carmelita sighed gratefully as she pressed her stocking feet against the hot metal.

  “Give me your shawl so we can wrap you in a warm blanket,” Altea said.

  Clutching the mug with one hand, Carmelita stiffly pulled off her shawl. Altea wrapped the heated blanket tenderly around her body.

  “That feels better,” Carmelita said. Her blue lips smiled bravely as she snuggled into the coarse wool. “It’s so very good to see both of you doing well,” she commented.

  “But what of you?” Thal said.

  Carmelita whimpered as if the feat of finding him had sapped the last of her strength.

  “I can wait for answers,” he said.

  Carmelita lifted her chin. “No, too much time has passed already. I have come because only you can save Valentino.”

  “Ah,” Thal said, not really surprised that the Condottiere had been the reason for the woman’s quest because he owed the man an immense favor.

  “Why has he sent you?” he asked, bothered that this charming hostess of many parties had been put through such hardship to fetch him.

  “Oh no. He does not know,” Carmelita answered quickly. “In happier days he told me where you were going upon your escape from Prague. He spoke also of your obligation to him.”

  “Where is he?” Thal said, growing much concerned.

  “He languishes in a dungeon in Pressburg, and I’m to blame for it,” Carmelita confessed and wilted with misery.

  “How has this befallen him?” Thal said although he felt some relief that he was not the cause of the imprisonment.

  Carmelita shook her head as if she still could not believe the turn that her life had taken. “I should not have listened to him,” she murmured and finished her hot water.

  Altea refilled her mug and sat next to the woman. “Tell us from the start,” she urged.

  Carmelita parted the blanket around her torso. She used a hand to smooth her clothing over her round belly.

  “I carry Valentino’s child,” she said and bit her lip as she thought of the baby with no father. She had already watched one son lose a father, and now another faced the prospect of never knowing one at all.

  “I had a plan. I told him I would stay with my brother at his castle in the country. He and my mother would harbor me until I gave birth and then they would help me raise the child secretly and spare me disgrace before every noble in Prague, but Valentino would not have it. He insisted that I must marry him. He who had suffered the ignominy of being a noble’s bastard would not see his son born as such. I knew it was foolish, but I wanted to believe that his love and devotion would be enough.

  “Of course, they weren’t, but I never suspected how very harsh the consequences would be. My late husband’s family was furious that I married a ‘bastard mercenary’ and they exposed me as a Lutheran plotter against the crown. Since the new archbishop arrived in Prague, the Roman Church has become aggressive about reasserting its position. Of course many nobles in Prague prefer Protestant, but I think I provided a handy sacrifice. My former allies u
sed me to deflect attention from themselves. I barely escaped charges of spying, but I’ve lost everything, even my son. His father’s family took custody of him and seized my palace in Prague.

  “But Valentino fared worse. He was charged with conspiring with Protestant rebels. He awaits trial in Pressburg. I tried to broker his release. I contacted his father in Italy and begged him to pay a ransom that I had bargained with Duke Osmount in Pressburg. For the right price, he would arrange to have the charges dropped against Valentino and let him go.”

  “And you trust him to do this?” Thal asked.

  “I had to try, but it doesn’t matter. Valentino’s father won’t pay anything to save his son because he married a Protestant.” Carmelita collapsed into sobbing, and Altea put an arm around her shoulders.

  While holding the defeated woman, Altea looked into Thal’s eyes. She wondered what he might do to help. The woman’s plight seemed not to fit in with Sarputeen’s prediction that someone Thal knew would bring answers. If anything, Carmelita would only distract them from their conflict with Tekax.

  Similar thoughts passed through Thal’s mind, but he reached a different conclusion. He took one of Carmelita’s hands and said, “Gladly I will repay my debt to Valentino. I have never been more powerful, and I shall arrange his rescue.”

  Carmelita whimpered gratefully and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “I knew I could find you,” she said.

  “How did you get here?” Altea wondered.

  “The two men in my company are my brother’s retainers. I could not have made it without them although the most difficult part of the journey was convincing my brother to let them go with me. I think he only relented because he believed I’d hire strangers if I could not have his trusted men,” Carmelita answered.

  “Your servants shall be taken care of here,” Thal assured her. “And you must eat and rest.”

  “Thal, when you get to Pressburg, look for Valentino’s lawyer, Tobias Dorn,” she said. “He’s a toady to the court and only pretends to defend the accused, but he was the only one who’d represent Valentino, for a price of course,” she said and shook her head at the memory of her hard bargaining with a stone-hearted pawnbroker.

  “I’m sure this lawyer shall prove useful to me,” Thal said a bit ominously.

  Nervous light flashed in Carmelita’s blue eyes because she knew that she had called upon a monstrous force.

  Altea said, “I’ll prepare a room for you and get you a hot meal.” Carmelita took her arm and followed her out of the kitchen.

  Johan, Mitri, Harvath, Lenki, Ansel, Emil, and Mileko had been observing the meeting from the hall. They made way for Altea and the female guest.

  Mileko caught Thal’s arm before he could go with them. “Your father awaits you,” he said.

  “Very well,” Thal said and went with him to his father’s study.

  Sarputeen was wiping his hands dry over a basin. “Is this woman someone you know?” he said playfully without looking up from his towel.

  “Indeed, and she has brought me news upon which I can act,” Thal said.

  The men settled into chairs and leaned forward with conspiratorial intimacy.

  Thal explained the plight of the woman who had sheltered him in Prague.

  When he was done, Sarputeen said, “And you intend to rescue this Condottiere?”

  “I’ll not leave him to rot in a dungeon and face execution, and to be honest my pack needs this quest. We need time to develop our rapport before going against our real enemies. They must be trained,” Thal said.

  Sarputeen nodded solemnly, proud of his son’s wisdom. “You are right,” he agreed.

  “And Valentino has knowledge of warfare. He’ll know how to conquer a castle in Hungary,” Thal predicted.

  “He will?” Sarputeen said.

  “His knowledge of such things will be far greater than ours. It’s his business to fight battles for others,” Thal said.

  “So he has soldiers he can call upon?” Sarputeen said.

  “He buys mercenaries,” Thal explained.

  “And will this man plucked from prison have a treasure hidden away?” his father wondered.

  “No,” Thal admitted. “But he might know how to recruit a few more fighters. Used in league with my pack, the results could be decisive. But these things cannot be decided from here. I must have Valentino’s opinions on the matter.”

  Sarputeen fingered the edge of his lustrous white fur. He exchanged a look with Mileko and saw that the man did not oppose Thal’s plan.

  “Then we shall all go to Pressburg. Too long have I hidden in this quiet place. We’ll travel once the weather clears and reach Pressburg by the next full moon,” he decided.

  ******

  Altea took Carmelita to a private room. A servant was unrolling a blanket in a sleeping alcove built into the stone wall. A cow hide over straw served as mattress. Some furs offered themselves as pillows. Altea told the servant to fetch a hot dinner.

  “I’m sorry this is so coarse,” Altea apologized because she remembered the luxurious home where Carmelita had once been the mistress.

  She fluffed the furs and added, “Lord Sarputeen has lived here alone with only his servants for many years until Thal and I came. And now we have new followers to serve us, so the castle is suddenly crowded. We’ve been taking stock of what furnishings are present and been coming up short. I’ll bring down some better linens from my room as soon as I can.”

  Carmelita sat down wearily on the bed. Although her refuge seemed rather stern, she felt that the castle that she had been warned not to approach was truly a sanctuary.

  “I’m sure to sleep well tonight,” she said.

  “I hope so. Getting here must have been such an ordeal,” Altea said.

  “I’ve not suffered so much compared to what happened to you in Prague,” Carmelita said.

  “You sent me a dress when I went into hiding,” Altea recalled.

  “Valentino said you needed clothes. I wish I could have done more,” Carmelita said.

  “That dress was a great treasure in my hour of need. I can’t express how truly grateful I was to receive it. I still have it actually although it’s much worn,” Altea said.

  “I might need to ask for it back,” Carmelita joked.

  Altea admired the woman’s resilient attitude. She was either uniquely quick to accept her change in fortunes or not quite fully accepting of it at all.

  Carmelita relaxed against the furs, and Altea pulled the blanket over her.

  “You look well,” the disgraced noble lady commented.

  Altea touched her cheek. She was aware of her increase in vitality since embracing the werewolf magic.

  “I am recovered mostly,” she murmured because she doubted that her thumbs would ever be fully free of pain, and her soul still reeled from many cutting sorrows.

  She asked, “What was Prague like after I left? Did you hear anything of the Magistrate’s children?”

  “That’s right, you were the Magistrate’s stepdaughter. I’m sorry I don’t know what became of his children. I wouldn’t worry much. I’m sure they must have gone to live with relatives,” Carmelita said.

  “I suppose so,” Altea agreed glumly. “What did people say about what Thal did?”

  “As you’d expect. That he was a beast of the Devil. Some said the Protestants brought the attacks. Some the Catholics. I imagine now that we’re all to blame,” Carmelita said.

  “Don’t be so hard on yourself,” Altea said.

  Her charitable sentiment cheered Carmelita a bit. Everyone in her life had already judged her, and she did not disagree with their poor opinions. She had acted of her own free will, and she was the owner of the consequences.

  “I suppose I should not dwell on my mistakes. I must keep applying myself to saving Valentino,” Carmelita said.

  Altea patted the blanket. “You’re with child. You need to rest. We’ll take the burden from you,” she said.

  C
armelita touched her belly. “Thal did not hesitate to help,” she murmured.

  “He tends to make quick decisions. Impulsive might not be too strong a word,” Altea said.

  “Perhaps you wish to tame that part of his nature?” Carmelita wondered.

  Altea shook her head. “I would tame nothing about him.”

  Chapter 21. Departure From Vlkbohveza

  Thal kept his back to the cliff as he descended the narrow trail down to the river. He looked down at the progress that his father had already made. Sarputeen obviously knew every spot on the series of tiny ledges that provided access to the canyon.

  Pistol looked down from the cliff top. He had chosen to await his master’s return as long as Thal remained in sight.

  Thal caught up to his father near the bottom, where a perilous incline had been traded for an icy field of smooth rocks glazed by the spray of a half-frozen waterfall.

  “Are you testing my agility?” Thal quipped as he took pains not to fall.

  “I have no desire to test you my son,” Sarputeen said warmly.

  They continued toward the river and reached slightly less treacherous ground. Sarputeen surveyed the boulders as if looking for something.

  “Is your pack outfitted for our journey?” Sarputeen asked.

  “Yes,” Thal said.

  “We’ll depart in the morning,” Sarputeen said in a voice bright with anticipation.

  “What are you looking for?” Thal asked. He had other things to do than take an arduous hike and was impatient for his father to reveal his purpose.

  Sarputeen looked up at the cliff. “Mmm, this should be the place,” he murmured.

  Nodding, he bent over the rocks and studied the ground. He walked toward the trees crowding the edge of the canyon along the water.

  Thal followed.

  “Aha,” Sarputeen finally said and picked up a scrap of brown cloth. “I thought his body would be taken this way.”

  “You want the monk’s body?” Thal said, preferring to leave the man’s death unexamined.

  “I don’t expect to find much of his body,” Sarputeen said. He climbed over a log and squatted by a skull protruding from the snow. Skin remnants stretched over the frozen face, and hair sprayed in grotesque directions from the torn scalp. Thal noted the distribution of long bones in various areas nearby. Shattered chunks had been cleaned of marrow, and he recognized the deep scratches upon the bones left by relentless teeth.