Werelord Thal: A Renaissance Werewolf Tale

by Tracy Falbe

  Lanterns in the streets and the flicker of candles in windows began to twinkle across the city, mimicking imperfectly the rippling reflections of moonlight upon the river. Thal recalled the party of his hostess. Lady Carmelita was expecting him. Being hungry and needy for the company of his friends, he prepared his mood for the affair.

  Chapter 21. Kill Without Sin

  “Shut the door,” Vito said.

  Rainer pulled on the door a couple times but it did not entirely fit into its sagging frame.

  “That will suffice,” Vito said, setting aside his annoyance with the dilapidated building.

  Rainer’s knuckles were scraped and scabbed. Circles were under his dull eyes. Vito pitied Rainer when he was like this. Every full moon was so hard on him. Then the days would pass, and Rainer would heal a little before descending back into his accursed misery.

  Vito gestured to the chair. Rainer slumped into it and clasped his face.

  “I’m not going to lock you up tonight,” Vito said quietly.

  Rainer looked up, bright with gratitude, but then his conscience dragged him back to despair. “I’ll leave the city. Head for the hills,” he said.

  “No. We shall find another way, Brother Rainer,” Vito said.

  Rainer wanted to believe in his guidance. “How?” he said.

  Vito had already planned his next words. “If God will not cleanse your curse, then I have come to believe that God wishes for your curse to have a purpose,” he said.

  Rainer’s silent confusion encouraged Vito. He continued, “You possess a frightening power. If applied correctly you can advance the mission of the Jesuits, the whole Church even. I’m going to let you loose in the city tonight.”

  “No, no, Master, you mustn’t!” Rainer cried.

  “Quiet,” Vito said, not wishing to be overheard by the other monks.

  Rainer shook his head.

  “Listen to me. Brave men have fought for centuries for the Church. You will just be fighting for God in a different way,” Vito said.

  “How can what happens to me serve God?” Rainer argued timidly.

  Vito only needed to provide Rainer with a convincing answer. The man’s need for redemption made him easy to manipulate.

  “You have to make your presence known. We both heard the beast last night. The real werewolf. Not some victim like you but a true follower of a devilish sorcerer. We have to find him and send him back to Hell. If he knows you’re in Prague he’ll come to you. Stay with him until he returns to his man form and then lead him back here so my men can trap him. We must deal out God’s justice. Christians cannot suffer one so corrupted as him to walk among them,” Vito said.

  Rainer recalled his encounter with Thal. That man had been in complete command of the werewolf transformation. Easily Rainer envied his power, but his sense of kinship with Thal made it difficult to see him as an enemy. But if he had voluntarily taken on the power, then he was an abomination most vile, as Vito said. Rainer could not imagine willingly taking on the beast power that forever separated the soul from God.

  “When you’re loose tonight, you’ll hunt and kill. Howl for him. He will hear you and come,” Vito explained.

  “I don’t want to kill anyone,” Rainer whispered painfully. He knew he would do it though. He had done it before.

  “Go to the Jewish Quarter. If you slaughter some Jew, it won’t really be like murder,” Vito said.

  Rainer winced. “They’re still people,” he whispered.

  Vito put his palm on his forehead. He was continually amazed that sweet-hearted sheepish Rainer had survived a werewolf attack.

  “Then pick some squalid drunk in a gutter. Do society a favor and remove useless scum. Remember it is to serve your brothers. Put the fear of God into Prague so that I can offer them guidance. You must flush out the real werewolf. Such sorcery must be stomped out,” Vito insisted and smacked his table. “Would you have all good Christians suffer as you do? If sorcerers and heretics are not put down, then how many Devil beasts like the one that bit you will roam the land? Turn your curse into a holy power, Rainer. Have faith that we are following God’s plan and do as I tell you. Your ultimate redemption relies upon it.”

  “Are you sure I can serve God with my curse?” Rainer asked.

  “Yes! Reveal your power and it will draw out the magic workers. They’ll seek you as one of their own and then you will lure them into God’s justice. Together we’ll purify Prague and show the holy might of Mother Church. Save people from the Devil-begotten lies of the vile Protestants that encourage all this madness,” Vito said.

  Rainer looked out a window. The daylight was so soothing and safe, but he could not escape the monstrous magic that would seize him again that night. The beast must hunt. It must kill. Rainer could not contain it, no matter how much he wished and prayed.

  “Thank you Brother Vito for showing me a new way forward in the service of God. I shall do as you say,” he whispered.

  Vito set a hand on his head and whispered loving prayers of praise for Rainer’s loyalty to God despite his affliction.

  “Amen,” they said together.

  As a last bit of encouragement, Vito said, “It is God’s will that the Reaper takes lives. Tonight you shall be the Reaper’s servant. That is all. Whoever you take, be safe in the knowledge that you are only the instrument of his fate,” Vito said.

  Rainer touched the cross on his chest and nodded vigorously. He would teach the beast within him to kill without sin.

  Chapter 22. Blood Scent

  The music coming from Lady Carmelita’s house was familiar to Thal. A servant opened one of the double doors for him. He brushed his fingers across the scene carved into the wood. An ancient warrior was confronting a horse with wings. Thal wondered where flying horses lived.

  The foyer was resplendent with dozens of candles on silver candlesticks. The conspicuous wealth of Carmelita’s new home was still dazzling to Thal. Every handle and knob was a finely crafted object. Rosettes and leaves were carved into the woodwork. Two fresh bouquets of flowers stood on stone pedestals flanking the broad doorway to the lady’s main hall.

  The fine voice of Regis was enthralling the guests. Only people at the periphery of the crowd were chatting. Thal slunk along a wall trying to avoid people. He filled a plate at the buffet and flung a treat to the floor that Pistol snatched up. He stood in a corner eating. A servant was kind enough to come by with a tray of drinks and he grabbed a wine.

  While attending to his hunger, he observed the room. Men wore finely woven leggings and tunics or poufy breeches. Because of the warm night most of them had taken off their heavier doublets or cloaks. Bright white linen sleeves flounced along their arms and velvety vests with shiny buttons contrasted smartly with their shirts. Some wore extravagant collars of layers of lace that ruffled up high on their throats. Swords and daggers hung from men’s belts.

  Layers of delicate fabric hugged the women with precise tailoring. Beads were stitched on bodices. Rows of ribbons ran down their sleeves. Tiny bundles of fragrant and festive nosegays fluttered on wrists. Their rustling skirts surrounded their feet that tapped in shoes with high heels and square toes.

  Thal spotted Carmelita holding court on a bright red couch. A white silk headdress was wound around her dark hair. A big man with long and curly brown hair and a trim beard sat beside her. Shiny armor covered his chest and gold earrings accentuated his olive skin. Sitting on the couch had required him to shift his rapier across his lap. Carmelita smiled often at whatever he was saying and playfully batted him with a fan.

  When Regis finished his song, everyone applauded. Thal was happy for his friends as they bowed to their admirers. They found true joy in performance.

  Regis announced that they would take a break and then play dance tunes. “Don’t take too long!” Carmelita admonished.

  Regis pleaded for a chance to wet his throat, and she graciously obliged. The crowd dispersed into conversational groups and the musicians headed for
the buffet.

  While singing, Regis had noticed Thal’s entrance. After nabbing two glasses of wine, he joined his friend in the corner.

  “I hear you were shooting your gun today,” Regis snickered.

  “Just a bit of fun with the young ones,” Thal said.

  Regis tossed back a glass of wine and sighed. “Our Ladyship was rather stinky faced about you not being here earlier. Are you trying to get us put out?” Regis asked.

  Judging from Regis’s concern, Thal guessed that she had been genuinely annoyed with him. “Patercek told me not to let her push me around,” Thal said. “Don’t worry.”

  “Oh yes, I forgot. You are an expert with women,” Regis said.

  “She hasn’t even noticed I’m here yet,” Thal said.

  Carmelita was talking to a lady. They both took turns lifting their skirts to show off their shoes to each other. The armored man leaned over and apparently commented on the splendor of their ankles. Both women smiled flirtatiously.

  “I guess her heart is not broken,” Regis admitted. “But I ask that you indulge her a little for all our sakes.”

  “What do you suggest?”

  “Show up when she says,” Regis said, a little exasperated.

  “I’m here,” Thal defended.

  Regis drank more wine. “I should stop wasting my voice on you,” he muttered.

  “I could use advice about another woman,” Thal said.

  Regis lowered his glass and his eyes popped with happy shock. “Have you finally got a girl?” he asked.

  “There’s a woman I need to speak with, but there’s no way for me to be introduced. I know where she lives,” Thal explained.

  “Ha, ha, the huntsman stalks this lucky girl,” Regis said with a chuckle at Thal’s sudden initiative. “Is she pretty?”

  More important matters than her looks were on Thal’s mind, but when he considered the question, he found his opinion intense on the matter. She was astonishing. Her spirit gilded her physical prettiness with a gorgeous shine.

  “She is,” Thal said softly.

  By his quiet tone, Regis guessed that Thal was quite intoxicated.

  “Tomorrow I will help. I’m glad you’ve come to me with this. It’ll be fun,” Regis said.

  Thal did not want to spoil his friend’s enthusiasm by telling him his business was rather more serious.

  “Tomorrow then. For now I suppose I should apply myself to charming Lady Carmelita,” Thal said.

  Regis laughed. “I’m glad you’re feeling better and thinking of women instead of killing people.”

  “I appreciate your advice on that matter last night,” Thal said.

  Regis waved over a servant and had him take away his empty glasses. He patted Thal on the back. “Look to the future. We can’t fix the past,” he said.

  “Is that a line from a song?” Thal asked.

  “Maybe someday,” Regis said, pleased with himself. He glanced between people to see if Lady Carmelita was getting impatient.

  “I’ll go distract her for a while. Have some dinner,” Thal said and moved across the room.

  When he reached Carmelita he bowed to her and flourished his hat. “At you service, my Lady,” he said.

  She was sitting between the man with the earrings and a girlfriend. They both regarded Thal with quiet wonder. Carmelita frowned and kicked at him, but her foot could not reach his leg.

  “You’re late!” she complained and stomped the floor.

  “You did not specify a time,” he said.

  “See how he talks back to me!” she exclaimed to her girlfriend.

  The man with the armor got up. He was a head taller than Thal and looked him up and down with critical curiosity. His weapons most definitely caught his eye.

  Thal admired the man’s armor. The sleek expanse of sturdy metal was easy to envy. The deep cut on Thal’s chest had only just finished healing.

  “Condottiere meet Thal Lesky, the newest addition to my household. Thal meet Condottiere Valentino Sangoro,” Carmelita said.

  The men shook hands. “What is it that you do?” Valentino asked while glancing suspiciously at Carmelita.

  “I’m a huntsman,” Thal replied.

  “My brother claims he’s the best hunter ever,” Carmelita interjected.

  “And he sent him straight away to Prague did he?” Valentino remarked.

  “They were done hunting for a while,” Carmelita improvised.

  “So you shoot rabbits with that pistol?’ the Condottiere said to Thal.

  “I’ve not yet had one put up enough of a fight to require that,” Thal said. He noticed that the Condottiere had an accent similar to his musician friends. By appearances the man possessed some significant rank if he was chatting up noble widows in Prague.

  “Huntsman Thal,” the woman next to Carmelita said. “Do you know what was howling last night?”

  Thal’s sorrow lurched inside him like loose cargo tossed in the hold of boat. His howling song had been the sound of his grief for a mother lost. To be asked so casually about it hurt.

  “A wolf of course,” he said confidently.

  “A wolf in Prague?” Valentino scoffed.

  “How would it get in the city?” Carmelita asked.

  “Wolves can’t get in a city,” Valentino said.

  Ignoring the Condottiere, Thal said, “In answer to your question, Lady Carmelita, I say that a wolf swam down the river to an island within the city and sang from there.”

  Both women nodded, impressed with his clever explanation.

  “Bah! Who’s ever seen wolves swimming in the Vltava?” Valentino said.

  “And what is it you do? Monitor the river?” Thal challenged.

  “I am a Condottiere!” Valentino said. He tapped his armored chest and flourished his hand.

  Carmelita popped to her little feet and fanned her guests. “Mind your tempers. There’s no war in here,” she said.

  Thal ignored her intervention and kept his gaze locked with the tall man. “Do you know all the habits of wolves?” Thal said.

  Valentino gently moved aside the fan that was annoying him. “And you can make that claim?” he said.

  “The habits of all forest creatures are known to me,” Thal said.

  “And is howling in Prague an odd thing for a wolf to do?” Valentino said.

  “I will admit it is strange,” Thal said.

  “If you two are finished jousting perhaps we can have a pleasant conversation,” Carmelita said. She gestured for a servant to fetch a chair for Thal.

  Sitting back down with his hostess, Valentino patted Carmelita’s knee. “Forgive me for making a fuss. Your huntsman is a saucy fellow and I thought I might have to turn him out,” he said.

  Thal resisted the bait. “I am her Ladyship’s guest. A mere word from her would suffice if she wishes me to leave,” he said.

  “Of course you can stay,” Carmelita said. The jealousy Thal was arousing in the Condottiere was too intriguing to cut short.

  “And how is it you decided you needed a huntsman?” Valentino asked of her.

  Thal responded, “I am a bodyguard for her musicians.”

  “A bodyguard for musicians?” Valentino said.

  “They are very talented,” Thal said, as if that explained everything.

  Puzzled, Valentino relaxed back into the cushions. He decided to study Thal in silence.

  Carmelita turned to her girlfriend. “My new musicians have traveled here from Venice and met with many dangers on the road. Thal is their guardian.”

  “Oh, they are just perfectly lovely. I’ve never heard anyone like them,” her girlfriend said.

  “My friends live to please their listeners,” Thal said. “I only wish that Lady Carmelita had not rushed them into performing for you. I’m sure she has plans to outfit them as they deserve.”

  “What do you mean?” Carmelita said.

  “My Lady you should be embarrassed by their poor travel worn clothes. It would be but a trifle
for you to provide them with new ones,” Thal said.

  Valentino chuckled.

  Carmelita turned to him. “What’s funny?” she said.

  “Nothing,” he murmured mysteriously but Thal sensed a small shift in the man’s attitude toward him.

  Thal said, “You would delight them if you provided new clothes. Regis would probably write a song just for you.”

  “Would he?” Carmelita said, brightly interested.

  “If Carlo has to darn his socks one more time he’ll have to use fairy dust to cover the holes,” Thal added.

  “Oh stop it!” Carmelita huffed and swatted his knee with her fan. “Of course they need new clothes. My steward will arrange it.”

  Thal thanked her for the generosity. He was pleased with himself. Perhaps Regis would no longer doubt his ability to manage their new patroness.

  Carmelita clapped her hands and called her musicians. They returned to their places for an eager audience. Valentino led his hostess to the floor to lead the first dance.

  Thal noticed Carmelita’s girlfriend looking at him. He stood up and extended a hand. “I’m not an experienced dancer, but I shall try if you’re willing to join me,” he said.

  With a smile she accepted. “I’m Joana,” she said.

  The dancers engaged in a more formal routine than the flirtatious folk dance at Patercek Castle. He watched the other men and followed the directions Joana whispered to him.

  When he faced his partner again, Joana giggled, “You really don’t know how to dance.”

  “Most of my days have been spent in the forest,” Thal said.

  “Such freedom must be nice,” she said.

  “It is,” he agreed wistfully.

  “Why do you think a wolf came into the city?” she asked.

  “Why does the city care about the wolf?” he said.

  His impertinence surprised her. “It was frightening,” she said.

  Thal regretted that his song had frightened the innocent among the guilty. He reminded himself to limit his fearsome anger to those who deserved it.

  “The beast will not get you, Lady Joana,” he said.