Werelord Thal: A Renaissance Werewolf Tale

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Werelord Thal: A Renaissance Werewolf Tale Page 30

by Tracy Falbe


  “I wish to take my friends out. We’ve hardly begun to explore Prague since arriving. Can you recommend a place to get a good meal?” Thal said.

  Valentino said, “In the Little Quarter the Magic Flag offers good food at a fair price that still keeps out riffraff.”

  “We shall look for it,” Thal said.

  “Do you think that werewolf will emerge again tonight?” Valentino said.

  “It may,” Thal answered, expecting that the moon was still sufficiently full to trigger Rainer’s beast magic.

  “Do come back as you said you would,” Carmelita said.

  Vulnerability had replaced her bossiness, and Thal reminded himself that he had promised Patercek to look after his sister’s well being. Growing worried that Rainer might come looking for him, he said, “I will be here.”

  His sincerity relaxed her. “You may go,” she said and gestured to the door.

  Carmelita watched his cloak swing from strong shoulders with each confident stride he took away from her. When she turned, Valentino’s glower confronted her.

  “Oh, I can’t help liking him,” she admitted.

  “You’re a more honest widow than wife,” Valentino remarked.

  “He’s far too common for me to seduce so you can stop being jealous,” she said.

  “I don’t think he’s common at all,” Valentino murmured.

  “To be honest, I think everyone likes him,” she added.

  “He does have charisma,” he agreed.

  “See, you like him too,” Carmelita said. She got up and slid into his lap. His strong hands that commanded men and pleased women squeezed her hips.

  “I like you more,” he said.

  “I should hope so,” she said playfully and kissed him.

  ******

  Thal found his friends predictably in the kitchen. A gaggle of servants flocked to him when he entered and battered him with questions. The gossip sweeping the city had them in a rare dither.

  Pistol scampered to Thal’s heels and yipped. Thal held up his hands and called for quiet. The servants obediently hushed themselves as if he were about to reveal a divine message. Even Thal was surprised by the response.

  Regis said, “I told them you would have all the answers about the beast.”

  “I have some,” Thal said and then shared the same details he had spoken to Carmelita. A cook asked him if would hunt down the beast. Thal told him it was their Ladyship’s wish that he guard the house and he would. This news pleased the servants who beamed as if they now enjoyed a special privilege.

  Trying to discourage their interest Thal slid onto the bench next to Carlo.

  “Get him food,” Carlo said.

  The crowd dispersed to their duties and someone brought Thal a bowl of oat gruel and boiled eggs. He gobbled the eggs but picked at his gruel.

  “Let me take you out today,” he said.

  The musicians naturally agreed.

  Regis drained his cup of watered wine and said, “I just remembered you wanted advice about a girl.”

  Raphael and Carlo exclaimed happily and in unison asked who it was.

  “I saw her in Old Town,” Thal said. The sudden heaviness of his mood made his friends think he was especially smitten.

  Carlo presumed to touch Thal’s face. “We should trim you up before you go. Make you pretty,” he said.

  After glancing among his shaggy companions Thal decided they would find a barber. “And Carmelita should be sending you a tailor soon. I got her to agree to get you new clothes,” he added.

  The news pleased his friends who thanked him for taking such good care of them.

  Eager for the day the men left the house. The streets were busy and chatter about the murders was easy to overhear. When they saw a red and white barber pole, they entered the shop. A man having a tooth drawn was yowling piteously beneath the strong hands of the barber’s burly assistant.

  Regis blanched at the sight and declared he felt little need for a shave. Carlo put him in a seat and told him to toughen up. The wretched customer was soon finished and sent away with bloody rags stuffed in his mouth. The barber washed his hands and appeared pleased to perform a more pleasant task.

  Thal got a haircut first. As the man’s fingers moved through his hair and the scissors snipped, he said, “What interesting hair you have. Each strand has more than one color. What stars were you born under?”

  “I could not say,” Thal said.

  “Does your hair take after your father or mother?” the barber asked. He marveled at a lock of hair before tossing it into the pile of the floor.

  Because Thal could only remember his father with a shaven head it made him wonder what his father’s hair was actually like. “I take after my father,” he said for the sake of answering.

  After all four men were finished, Thal paid the barber. Pistol hopped up when the men came out. The dog stuck close to his master’s heels in the busy traffic.

  After asking several people, Thal located the Magic Flag. They went in and drank some beer. Thal learned that the joint of beef would not be ready for hours. The half raw hulk of meat just beginning to heat over the massive fire provoked his appetite. He knocked back his hunger with another beer. Planning to return for dinner, the men left after Regis cajoled Thal into taking them to Old Town.

  The mood across the river was more agitated than the Little Quarter. Groups of armed men, some with the royal livery, were on display in the square. One ragged man standing on a barrel was raving about the doom the Jews were bringing on the city. A small crowd was yelling in agreement until someone, presumably the owner of the contents of the barrel, knocked him down. He whacked the wretch with a stick and told him to be off.

  “Charms to ward back the werewolf! Get your werewolf charms!” a man barked.

  He began foisting a fistful of amulets into Raphael’s face. Blunt pebbles and wooden beads strung on leather cords dangled from the man’s arms and around his neck. They looked about as magical as horse apples.

  “No, no, I don’t want one,” Raphael said and tried to push him away.

  “Everybody in Old Town is buying one. Two for price of one because I care so much for my fellow man,” the hustler insisted.

  “Get away!” Raphael declared, reverting to his native language.

  “You need it to keep back the werewolf,” the man argued.

  Thal stepped in. With a firm hand he backed the man away from Raphael. “He said he does not want one,” he said.

  Unrelenting as a nasty rash, the man said, “Oh, fine Sir, your gun can’t save you. These are the finest werewolf banes crafted by the great magician Theodorni. It’s your only protection!”

  “I’m sure your magician is a drunk and a fraud,” Thal said. He seized one of the dangling charms. Its amulet was merely a glob of half dried clay. He ground it to dust in his hand.

  “I assure you these do not keep back werewolves,” he said and let his predatory spirit flash. The man quailed back, but even cowering, he squeaked, “You’ll have to pay for that.”

  Thal spun him around and pushed him away.

  “Thank you,” Raphael said, dusting off his sleeves. “Those saddest magic charms ever I see.” Everyone laughed, even Thal who had appreciated the silly diversion.

  They moved into the market stalls. Carlo and Raphael lagged behind browsing items and chatting with vendors. Regis wandered ahead, more interested in people watching. He finally stopped at a juggler. Thal trailed behind him but still kept an eye on Carlo and Raphael farther back.

  Regis tossed a copper into the juggler’s cup and turned to Thal. “Show me where this girl lives,” he said.

  “I don’t know that there’s much point standing outside her house,” Thal said.

  Regis could tell that inexperience was frustrating his friend.

  “You have to let her see you. If she likes you she’ll come out,” Regis said.

  Thal pointed to Karlova Street. “She lives down there,” he said.

/>   “Nice houses,” Regis said, beginning to understand Thal’s difficulty. He was not trying to woo some common girl who could flirt in the streets.

  “What’s her name?” Regis asked.

  Thal sighed. “The sign on her home said Fridrich,” he said.

  Regis groaned. A first name would have been helpful. “Let us go by the house. Maybe we get lucky and run into her,” he said.

  They told Carlo and Raphael where they were going. The two men stayed behind to keep shopping.

  As Thal and Regis walked down Karlova Street, he explained his first encounter with the woman and that she had known his mother.

  “She told me how she died,” Thal concluded sadly.

  “Again I’m sorry for your loss,” Regis said. He had heard of witches being put down his whole life but never thought about those people having grieving family members.

  “I’m glad you have not done anything terrible because of what happened,” Regis said, hoping to keep Thal on a peaceful course.

  “Your advice is hard to follow,” Thal admitted.

  Regis frowned. “Best to move on Thal. This interest in a girl will be good for you. The sooner you get a girl the better,” he said.

  “Are girls how you keep peace in your heart?” Thal asked.

  “They help,” Regis said, laughing.

  Thal supposed that Regis was right. There were more songs about love than war, but he knew that this woman would bring him no peace. She possessed information that he needed so he could fulfill the violent duty to which he had pledged his heart.

  Broken bottles started to litter the street, and they encountered four men-at-arms in front of a white washed stone home with yellow shutters and a red tile roof.

  Thal boldly stopped in front of the door. The Fridrich house sign was askew on the wall. “This is it,” he said.

  “Move along you two,” commanded one of the guards.

  Thal ignored him and scanned the windows. His heart thumped with anticipation.

  Pistol ran up the steps.

  “Get your cur out of here!” the guard yelled.

  “What happened?” Regis asked and gestured at the dirty hand prints on the walls alongside the front door.

  “There’ll be no more hangers on at the Magistrate’s house,” the guard insisted and swung his spear out meaningfully.

  Regis stepped back and tugged on Thal’s cloak, but his friend did not budge. From an upstairs window a woman with blonde braids was looking down at Thal. Their gazes met like they had the whole world to themselves. Her mouth hung open as if fear and delight fought over her lips. Thal saw her as an irresistible gateway to the other half of life that he could not experience alone. As the unicorn is drawn to the maid under a pear tree, his wildness became tame and he wished only for one gentle stroke of her hand.

  “Be gone,” the guard said and stuck his spear under Thal’s chin.

  The intrusive point broke the spell upon Thal, and he snatched the spear from the man’s grip. He tossed it like a toy down the street. The spear clattered and spun across the cobbles. One pedestrian had to hop over its passing shaft. He yelled.

  Thal pulled his pistol and aimed it into the guard’s face. The stunned man stepped back. His three comrades pointed their weapons at Thal. Regis hovered in anxious shock.

  “Don’t take a spear to a gun fight,” Thal advised.

  “We’ll have you charged and flogged!” one of the other guards cried.

  Thal swung his pistol barrel toward him and said, “Touch me and I’ll feed your hands to my dog.”

  Pistol barked appropriately.

  “Thal!” Regis said sharply.

  Out of consideration for his friend’s need to not be arrested or killed, Thal took a step back and pointed his pistol up. “Excuse my temper,” he said.

  “Come!” Regis urged and started down the street.

  Thal looked up for the woman again. She still stood in the window, amazed by his behavior.

  Regis pulled Thal along by the elbow. “Christ save us. That’s the Magistrate’s house. Why must you be in love with his daughter? I thought you said you were wanted,” Regis babbled.

  “I’m not in love with her,” Thal said, annoyed by the remark.

  With the attitude of an accomplished Latin lover, Regis regarded Thal skeptically. “I saw how you looked at her,” he said.

  Thal put his pistol back into his belt. “Love is not my business with her,” he said.

  “No man looks at that one and does not think of some type of love business,” Regis declared.

  “I have nothing to offer a woman,” Thal muttered to remind himself of the fact.

  “We need to get back to the Little Quarter,” Regis decided after another look back. “That dinner you wanted to buy us should be ready.”

  Fully intending to satisfy that appetite, Thal agreed. In the square they reunited with Raphael and Carlo.

  “Did you find Thal’s lady?” Raphael asked.

  Regis rolled his eyes and declared that Thal was determined to add to his list of crimes because of the woman.

  “She very pretty then?” Raphael said, eager for details.

  “She will inspire my next song,” Regis said.

  Thal was ignoring their conversation. He had spotted one of the town men-at-arms emerging into the square from Karlova Street. He hailed a patrol of royal guards and was likely describing his encounter with Thal.

  “Let us keep going,” Thal advised and hurried his friends toward the bridge.

  They crossed unmolested, and Regis became happier with Old Town behind him.

  “Thal, you really should not have attacked that city guard,” he said.

  “I did not attack him. I disarmed him,” Thal corrected.

  “Acting like that will make you a more wanted man,” Regis said.

  “I’ll suffer no man to draw arms on me,” Thal said.

  Regis sighed. Although Thal’s nature was startling it was also admirable. If all men possessed such unflinching courage perhaps the world would be a fairer place.

  “At least you impress that fine girl. She did not mind seeing you at her door,” Regis said.

  A flicker of macho pride erased some of Thal’s surly mood. Of all the women who had wished to seduce him, only her interest flattered him.

  Regis continued, “I don’t know how I can help you, my friend. Guards on her door! The daughter of the Magistrate. Can’t you just go for some tavern maid?”

  “The huntsman takes no joy in the slaughter of chickens,” Thal said.

  Laughing, Regis said, “You take all the romance out. I best stick to singing and leave you to whatever it is you do.”

  “As you wish, but I appreciate your opinions. I guess I just wished for you to see her,” Thal said.

  “You love her,” Regis insisted again.

  Sadly Thal admitted, “I want to love her but my heart has other duties.”

  The ominous comment worried Regis, but they had reached the Magic Flag and he did not wish to belabor the subject. He could hope that Thal would move on from his impossible crush on an unreachable woman. At least it was a start toward some healthy wenching.

  The sunny day yielded to a dark interior of wood construction and furnishings. Each little adz mark upon the heavy beams told of the patient and skillful chipping of laborers years ago. Bundles of drying herbs hung from posts and men and women were filling the benches of the common tables. Thal and his party moved farther in. He had reserved a room in back where they could eat in more comfort.

  When they entered the private alcove, Valentino was seated at the center of the table. He raised a stein adorned with lions and snakes.

  “Welcome, Thal Lesky. I’m sure you don’t mind if I join you for dinner. I’ll buy a round of drinks of course,” Valentino said.

  Chapter 26. A Helping Hand

  The self invitation of the Condottiere perturbed Thal but he slid onto the bench along the wall and seated himself by Valentino. Following his l
ead, the musicians piled in around the table.

  “I would’ve thought you dined with more important people than me,” Thal said.

  Valentino took a drink. “Perhaps you are important,” he said.

  A tavern wench brought over four full steins and distributed them. Regis thanked her for the service. Thal noticed that his friend’s accent had suddenly become more pronounced.

  “How could I be important to you?” Thal asked. He felt Pistol settling in by his feet.

  “Oh, I’m always in the market for good men,” Valentino replied.

  “I didn’t think I was for sale,” Thal said.

  Valentino chuckled. “Every man has his price.” In Italian he asked the musicians if they agreed.

  “Yes, each man has a price but how often does he actually get paid?” Regis rejoined and everyone laughed.

  The serving woman returned with a basket of bread rolls. The men tore into them. Amid the quiet of full mouths, Thal studied Valentino. His shining earrings hinted of profitable adventures. And his good armor and weapons made clear that his business was a dangerous one. Delicately detailed designs were etched into the cuirass depicting horsemen with falcons. A square cross was at the center of the design.

  “Does your armor stop pistol balls?” Thal asked.

  Valentino ran a strong hand across his chest, obviously proud of his beautiful armor. “Are you thinking of shooting me?” he asked.

  “No. I’d like to get some armor. I worry I might get shot at,” Thal said.

  “You should be worried,” Valentino said mysteriously and drank some more beer.

  Regis, Raphael, and Carlo exchanged looks across their steins.

  “Will it stop a gun?” Thal pressed.

  “Sometimes, if one gets lucky,” Valentino said. “I try to make sure there are other people to shoot at instead of me.”

  “Is that how I can be important to you?” Thal said.

  “No,” Valentino said dramatically. “You’re much too good for cannon fodder and you know it. Ah, our dinner!”

  Two women arrived bearing trays. They passed out heavy pewter plates of steaming roast beef slices sloshing in au jus. They left a bowl of shredded horseradish along with eating knives and more bread. Valentino got out his own knife and cut into his meat.

 

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