by Tracy Falbe
Thal dove into his dinner enthusiastically. The beef was succulent. Its meaty chewiness with a lingering bloodiness briefly drove all else from his mind. Pistol put his front paws on the bench and placed his chin on Thal’s thigh. His brown eyes gazed upon his master with piteous need. Thal pulled off the darker fire-kissed edges of each meat slice and dropped them to the floor for his dog.
While the men ate, Valentino kept the conversation casual. He spoke mostly Italian with the musicians. They talked of home villages and the convoluted quarrels of various states on their complicated peninsula.
When they were done eating the woman came by and refilled their mugs.
“Condottiere, I suppose you would know a good place for me to get another pistol. I’d rather have two,” Thal said.
“Two are better than one,” Valentino agreed and patted the pair of pistols in his belt. “Tell me, Thal, how are you at riding horses?”
Carlo chuckled. “Horses no like him,” he said. His friends shared a smile.
“I just have not met the right horse yet,” Thal said.
Valentino frowned. “I’ll have to teach you,” he muttered.
“I did not ask about horses,” Thal said.
“Oh, yes, a pistol. I have connections with good gunsmiths in Prague, but you’ll have to forgive me if I don’t name names right now. My main fellow’s shop is under exclusive contract to the crown, but he knows how to discreetly make side deals. Like servants in the master’s pantry so to speak. I’ll take you there tomorrow if you like,” Valentino explained.
“Can I get armor too?” Thal said.
Valentino looked down his nose. “You can’t possibly have money for that. Men who win battles earn such things,” he said.
“And you have won battles,” Thal surmised.
“Many,” Valentino bragged. “Stick with me and you can win battles too.”
“War is not my business,” Thal said.
“That’s right, you are the huntsman who plays nursemaid to musicians. No offense,” Valentino added to the Venetians at the table.
“We would be prisoners or worse if not for Thal,” Raphael defended.
“We need him,” Regis said, not wishing to see Thal shackled to the Condottiere’s dark duties.
“I’m not rushing off to fight in any wars,” Thal assured them. “I simply asked for some help buying another gun.”
“There’s money to be made in war,” Valentino said.
“Then why do soldiers always want for pay?” Thal asked.
“Commanders get paid far more often,” Valentino said. “You could be a commander. I can see that men will follow you.”
Thal did not doubt that assessment, but knowing he could control men, and perhaps even inspire them to violent deeds if need be, was not the same as wishing to do so.
“I want no part in killing for no reason,” Thal said.
“Oh someone has a reason every time, and he’s the one paying to put men in the field,” Valentino said to alleviate Thal’s ignorance.
“My killing is done for my own reasons,” Thal specified.
“So the huntsman does kill more than just animals in the forest, as I’ve heard,” Valentino said.
“Thal stood in our defense against bandits. We employ him as our bodyguard,” Regis said, quite possessively.
“And there’s no competing with what a musician can pay,” Valentino joked.
Regis did not like the direction of this conversation at all. He would have to keep reinforcing his message of peace with Thal.
“I think my friend is clear about not wanting to be in your war business,” Regis said.
Valentino stirred the horseradish left on his plate, making it pink with bloody juice. “Perhaps he has not considered the opportunities that soldiering provides criminals. Serving a good cause has spared many a man the gallows,” he said.
“Don’t let him threaten you,” Regis said hotly.
“We’re just talking,” Thal said, and his friend reluctantly shut his mouth. “What cause have you to call me a criminal?” Thal wondered with faux innocence.
Valentino smiled. His full lips framed good teeth. “I’m the sort of man who also knows bounty hunters,” he said.
“Is there some bounty offered for me?” Thal said.
“Letters are circulating Bohemia offering twenty gold florins for your capture on charges of Devil worship and shape changing, among other things,” Valentino said. He had just learned these details that afternoon after engaging in some strategic gossip.
“Is twenty gold florins a lot?” Thal said.
Valentino laughed, recognizing a man who possessed no remorse for his crimes. “It’s not bad,” he judged.
“It matters not. I won’t be caught,” Thal said.
“Be reasonable, man! You have to sleep. Someone will get to you, but I can protect you. We’ll give you a new name and I’ll set you up as one of my commanders. With a little training you’ll be magnificent. Wars are brewing, more than usual, and the powers that be won’t be scrutinizing who’s making things happen for them on the ground,” Valentino said.
An outburst of loud voices in the main dining room erupted into a shouting match between two men. Regis leaned out of the alcove to look. A big woman smacked the fighters, but the argument still intensified. The men were dragged outside.
Thal paid little heed to the action. He stared at the table, deep in thought.
“Do you believe the charges against me?” he asked quietly under the noise.
Valentino shrugged. “I don’t care. The way the world is going I’m going to be called a heretic or worse no matter which side I work for.”
“I don’t worship the Devil,” Thal insisted. His lack of denial about shape changing implied admission of it. Valentino looked to the musicians to see if they were shocked, but apparently Thal’s unholy habits were not news to them. The Condottiere suddenly wondered if he was grabbing a tiger by its tail, as the silk traders would say. But he was a man accustomed to living an exciting life, and the qualities he saw in Thal were too tempting. Good men with bright minds, daring hearts, and bounties on their heads were precious.
“What say you to my offer?” Valentino pressed.
“Going to war has little appeal,” Thal said.
Valentino rolled his eyes. “Yes, I admit it’s hard nasty work, but when we do things right it doesn’t take too long and then we’re back enjoying the comforts the world has to offer. We could do well together. I’m in need of good men. Rewards will be handsome,” the Condottiere said.
Regis said, “Thal, don’t make a hasty decision.”
“And you can stop acting like you have anything to offer him,” Valentino said, wishing he had gotten Thal alone first.
“I value his friendship,” Thal said.
“My apologies. I was cross and should not have been,” Valentino said. “But you need new friends. I’m sure even your old friends can see this. And by my honor, my friendship is not lightly given.”
Thal believed the man was being honest, but the prospect of serving him had no appeal. Even so the hard facts of Thal’s reality pressed against his stubborn pride from all sides like an iron maiden. Valentino was offering him protection and a place in the world where merit could find reward.
Probing for a reaction, Thal said, “If I refuse you, I suppose you’ll turn me in for the reward.” He expected the straight question to reveal Valentino’s true character.
“No, I will not,” he said, shaking his head. “It would bring bad attention onto Lady Carmelita and I would not do that.”
Judging the man to be sincere, Thal said, “She’s important to you.”
“She’s important to many people,” Valentino said cryptically. His brown eyes scanned the musicians, advertising his unwillingness to give out more details with so large an audience.
Aching with curiosity, Thal asked his friends if they could give him some time alone with Valentino. Regis frowned, but he supposed he
knew enough dangerous secrets. Some of the conversations he had overheard at Carmelita’s party had been politically brash.
Once they were alone, Thal asked, “Who are these associates Carmelita wanted me to meet?”
Valentino lifted his beer. “Her in-laws are Protestant agitators. She’s involved with a group of nobles plotting to drive out the Church,” he said and took a drink. He wiped his mustache and shook his head at their folly. But it did not matter. A lot of money was going to be on the table sooner or later, and the highest bidder would have the best cause in Valentino’s view.
“Why does she want me to meet them?” Thal said.
“They’re building a network of men they can rely on to take up arms. Carmelita puts a frivolous front on their meetings. She’s just a merry widow throwing parties. It’s good cover too. Protestants can be such a dour bunch, but she makes the risk of excommunication and damnation look fun,” Valentino joked.
“Is she in any immediate danger because of this?” Thal said.
“Hard to say. Anything could happen. These Protestant plotters mostly just talk, but one of these days they’ll take action. But it’s a dangerous game they play. The Church is sick of losing followers. The Emperor is firmly with the Church, and the new archbishop heading here makes a statement to me that Bohemia is a priority,” Valentino said.
“Then why do you support Carmelita?” Thal wondered.
Valentino smiled. “She’s a pleasant client, and her plotters have been financing things for me. I need to keep all my connections. When this Protestant movement flares up in Bohemia, and it will, it could take off. Then I’ll be in a good position. Look at what’s happening in the German States. Who would have ever thought a whole different church could rise so quickly?” he said.
Thal had never really thought too much about religious politics but he could easily guess what a dangerous game Valentino was playing. “What if the Catholics prevail?” he asked.
“Then I’m a good Catholic,” Valentino said and took another drink.
“Is Carmelita this flexible?” Thal asked.
“Probably. She’s just involved because her in-laws are Protestants. She’s keeping them happy so she can stay in charge of her son and the fortune he inherited,” Valentino explained.
Thal was bothered that he had not guessed at the dicey motivations beneath Carmelita’s festive almost silly exterior. Perhaps he could not read every person as well as he thought.
“Patercek told me that he worried about his sister’s politics. He wanted me to watch out for her,” Thal divulged.
“And you can do that best by joining my company,” Valentino said.
“I’m still thinking that through,” Thal said.
“Don’t think too long. You don’t have any other choice except to flee. I don’t say this to trap you. Think of me as the helping hand that you need,” Valentino said.
Thal believed that Valentino meant him no harm, except the possibility of getting blown to bloody chunks in a battle. His desire to exploit his value was motivated by ambition and not malice, but this did not really ease Thal’s distaste for accepting a master.
He finished his beer. “I need to get some rest before I guard the house tonight,” he said and slid out of the bench.
“I’ll see you tonight,” Valentino said and saluted him with his stein.
Pistol padded after Thal across the tavern and they left. In the street a man was propped against a building with a bloody rag to his head. A woman stood over him, still yelling at him for his shortcomings. Thal looked away from the pitiful scene that reminded him that there were more losers in the world than winners. More every day.
Chapter 27. Twice Cursed
Thal sat on a bench on the balcony of Carmelita’s house. The moon hovered the city like a glowing ship perilously close to a jagged coast. The city’s towers, roofs, chimneys, and hard-edged jumbled chaos against the night sky were in marked contrast to the countless times he had admired the moon from the curvaceous serenity of the forest. Thal missed the forest, but civilization enticed his appetites with a stimulating cornucopia of food, music, tools, and complicated companions.
When he thought about his friends, he acknowledged that his ability to protect them gave him purpose. But could he honestly keep them from harm forever? As Bradcek had threatened, Thal had been made a wanted man. He must be careful not to get his friends condemned by their association with him.
Tonight another pressing problem demanded his attention. The whole household of Lady Carmelita was likely in danger because Rainer might track him to this place.
Thal sniffed the gentle breeze coming from the east. It smelled of the river – fishy, muddy, and soured by the city’s gutters. His thumb ran down the cool iron of the pistol barrel in his lap. Thal wondered if he should put Rainer out of his misery. Perhaps it was the proper mercy. That man was in the thrall of Brother Vito, who was not a proper guide in Thal’s opinion.
I can’t just kill him, Thal decided. Rainer was deeply troubled, perhaps irretrievably so, but Thal’s heart insisted that he give the man a chance. He hoped to woo the unfortunate man with friendship and save him from the unsavory mastery of Vito.
Steps on the stairs interrupted his thinking. A manly odor spiced with a musky touch of Carmelita’s perfume told Thal that Valentino approached. The big man emerged onto the moonlit balcony. He carried no lantern and was only a dark form moving across the pale tiles of the patio.
“Her Ladyship is pleased that you’re watching over her family,” Valentino said. He sat next to Thal and took a deep breath of the night air. “Splendid evening. It’s going to be a nice summer,” he said.
When Thal did not comment, Valentino attempted conversation again. “Can I have a look at your pistol?” he said. Thal handed it to him and walked to the railing. His dog peeked between the thick posts. His tail went up. Thal smelled it too.
“Not a bad gun,” Valentino remarked. “How did you get it?”
“Some would say I stole it, but that’s not true,” Thal said. He walked back to Valentino and retrieved his gun.
“Ssshhh,” he said with a nod toward the street.
“Is it coming?” Valentino whispered. He crouched low as he followed Thal back to the rail. The supernatural threat excited him in a new way. He had faced human foes for years, but the thought of a werewolf made him feel like a boy. He drew one of his pistols.
Thal crouched behind the rail and Valentino peeped over the edge with him. The street was abnormally empty. The killings in Old Town had dampened the nocturnal frolics of the Little Quarter, at least for tonight.
“There’s been no howling,” Valentino said as if trying to convince himself that something was not coming.
Pistol’s low growl contradicted his flirtation with denial.
“He’s approaching quietly on purpose,” Thal explained.
“Why is he coming to you?” Valentino asked.
Thal faced him. His silence dared Valentino to accept the truth.
The Condottiere shook his head. “But you can’t be. Look at the moon. Why has it not provoked your magic if you have it?”
“Look!” Thal hissed.
“Santo Cristo!” Valentino cried.
Out of an alley emerged an upright figure with a shaggy head. When it looked up and down the street, a flickering street lantern silhouetted its long snout. Then it dropped to all fours and bounded across the street with a fluffy tail flying. It disappeared into shadows.
Thal gripped his gun. In his relatively fragile man form, he clung to the power of the weapon, but he could not bring himself to murder Rainer no matter the danger. But if he wanted them both to live, he dared not confront Rainer as a man tonight.
He ran to the bench and set down his gun. He whipped off his cloak and fur and pulled off his shirt.
“What are you doing?” Valentino demanded.
Thal yanked off his boots and slipped down his pants. “I don’t want to ruin my clothes,” he expl
ained.
“Are you getting naked?” Valentino said and stepped back, profoundly confused.
Pistol dashed under the bench and whined.
Free of clothing, Thal held his fur into the moonlight. It sparkled supernaturally. He wrapped the fur over his hips and trembled with anticipation. “Everybody wants me to serve them…I understand why now. Because I have power, but my power is my own. I’m not sure what to do with it, but I know I’m more powerful than the beast that approaches. Don’t shoot me, Valentino,” he said and began to chant the words of the spell.
Valentino fell back. Thal’s strange words made him shake. Dark magic drew down upon the balcony like an owl on a rabbit. It was almost silent yet loud with palpable intent. The force introduced Valentino to a new level of fear, but his terrified curiosity gave him the courage to witness a great thing that transcended proclamations of good and evil. Thal cried out his name and screamed. His body convulsed and he clenched his teeth against the wrenching pain.
Like the surreal moment when a child is born of woman, when one becomes two, Thal’s body stretched and revealed the beast. Fur burst out upon his heavily muscled body. His human face erupted into wolfen jaws and his eyes reflected the light of Heaven. He was magnificent in his predatory superiority. Valentino was paralyzed by awe. Not even the worst beating he had ever taken from his father could compare to this humbling experience that left him feeling like a water bug in a flood. Thal bounded up to him and rubbed his furry chin across Valentino’s armored shoulder. He slapped a thick paw on his other shoulder and gently ran his long claws through Valentino’s short beard. The delicate rustle of blunt claws against thick short hairs was a sound Valentino would never forget. Thal sniffed him with wide wet nostrils. Thick teeth that could crack bones glittered with magic, and then Thal bounded across the balcony and vaulted into the street.
Valentino drew a breath as if he had just been saved from drowning and was beginning a new second life.
His pistol barely clung to his limp fingers, but he drew his wits back together and tightened his grip. He hurried to the railing. Thal loped down the street. His powerful grace amazed Valentino. Even in his terror he envied Thal’s ability that the world called a curse but in him was a gift that united man with all that he had forsaken.