Werelord Thal: A Renaissance Werewolf Tale

by Tracy Falbe

  “I should not have come,” he said.

  “But you did,” she said and smiled with a delighted lack of regret.

  “I did,” he agreed.

  “It would’ve killed me if you didn’t come,” she said and hugged him tight and pressed a cheek against his collar bone. So this is what it feels like to be held, she thought, appalled by the emptiness of her existence before this day. Nothing compared to this intimate acceptance.

  “Altea, do you understand what I am?” he said with heavy seriousness.

  Her passion ebbed a little. She touched his goatee and imagined the hairs on the snout of a werewolf. “Do you really change into a beast?” she said. Her tone was curious, not disapproving.

  “I do.”

  “What is it like?” she asked.

  Encouraged by her calm curiosity, Thal smiled. “Magnificent,” he admitted.

  “Take me away from here,” she said.

  “I have no shelter to offer. Only my love,” he said against his better judgment. This impulsive woman would only be encouraged to more madness by this proclamation, but he had not been able to stop himself. He wanted her for his own.

  They resumed kissing. Their urgency built rapidly. They pressed their bodies together and touched each other through their clothes. The contours of their flesh rubbed insistently, determined to overcome the barriers of fabric. Altea stumbled back against the fence and Thal loomed over her. His hands hauled up her skirt and she rubbed the inside of her thigh against his leg.

  “No,” he gasped and eased the swelling mass in his pants away from her body. He did not want to take her in some smelly alley. This spirited woman who deserved glory but lived in a cage would get no coarse treatment from him.

  Still moaning, Altea gasped for her breath. She had not known that passion could progress so quickly and she had been going too fast. The pulsing pleasure between her legs slowly eased. She felt like she had a whole new body that required new things.

  Thal took her hand and led her away. Pistol followed, perky with happiness for his master. They emerged onto an empty street. He slipped his cloak around her and kept her close, almost concealing her.

  “Do you always walk the streets at night?” she asked.

  “Not always,” he answered.

  “Did you kill those men and horses?” she asked.

  He chuckled. “Would you really be here if you thought I had?” he said.

  “No. There’s another beast. I can hear the difference in the howls,” she said.

  Her astute judgment impressed Thal. He gave her an appreciative squeeze and wondered what his mother had thought of this young woman.

  “I’m trying to gain the trust of the other werewolf. If he’d accept my guidance I could keep him from hurting people, but I worry he can’t get past his madness,” Thal explained.

  “How did you?” she wondered.

  “I am different. My power is not madness. I’m in control,” he said. He meant to explain more but footsteps made him go quiet.

  A trio of men confronted them. Clubs were in their hands. Pistol growled, confirming their nefarious intentions.

  “Stay behind me,” Thal said. The dog stood by Altea’s feet and yapped courageously.

  Thal drew his pistols. “I’m armed,” he warned.

  A man charged at him swinging a club. Thal fired. The flash of igniting powder revealed a bearded dirty face. The return of darkness hid the explosion of blood but Altea heard the crunching splat when he hit the street. Thal charged the next man and hit him over the head with his pistol. He yelled in pain and staggered against a building. The third desperado fled.

  Thal grabbed Altea’s hand and rushed her away from the scene. They reached a wharf where docked boats bobbed in the water.

  Reloading his pistol, he said, “They didn’t figure on me having a gun.” He shook his head at their misjudgment. A solitary figure was not always vulnerable, and he knew how to tell the difference.

  Altea had her hand on her chest. Her heart was thumping after the terrible fright and the run. His swift strength had protected them, and she wished that he could save her from everything.

  “This is why I’m supposed to stay in at night,” she said, trying to be as casual about the incident as Thal seemed.

  He grinned. “It’s barely safe during the day,” he said.

  “That body in the street will be found,” Altea worried, perplexed by his lack of concern.

  “It matters not. No one will lament a thief with his face blown off,” Thal said.

  The onrush of experiences overwhelmed Altea. She had lived more since the sun set than she had in all her years.

  “What would they have done to us?” she whispered.

  “Kill me, rob me, rape you, maybe kill you too,” Thal said dispassionately.

  His unflustered acceptance of brutal realities bothered Altea. Was all the supposed orderliness of society just peeling paint upon a foundation of unrepentant rapacious violence?

  “Is all the world like this?” she asked him.

  “There is much beauty and kindness too,” he said. Sliding his gun back into his belt, he drew her close again. “When I look at you I imagine a life of good things.”

  “I want to be with you,” she said.

  “How can you know that?” he wondered.

  “I just know,” she said. She remembered his howling and how the song had connected with all the feelings of her heart, but she could not explain it to him.

  Thal believed her anyway. Her presence proved her passion for him.

  “What must a man have to be worthy of you?” he asked.

  “You are worthy.”

  “No, not in a man’s world. In the forest I knew how to provide for my family, but here everything is complicated and out of reach,” he lamented.

  “In the forest?” she said, puzzled by his words.

  Thal tensed, worried that he had spoken too candidly. Perhaps Altea accepted the concept that he was a werewolf but did not truly understand.

  Determined to be honest, he explained, “I forsook the life of a man many years ago, before you were born. Magic changed me to a wolf. I chose that life, but unlike the other wolves I never aged and died. Then in her time of terrible need, my mother somehow called me back. But I am not just a man. The wolf is part of me and I can summon that power when I need it.”

  Altea contemplated his incredible explanation. She could not deny his story. Prague had been up in arms about werewolves ever since she had first seen him.

  Thal continued, “So maybe you can see how this is difficult for me. I want to have a life with you, but I know that would be wrong for you. I’m sure you want to live a normal life like a normal woman.”

  Altea hugged him. Her arms slipped around his back beneath the fur under his cloak. The heat of his body was trapped there and he was very warm.

  “And what of you, Thal? What will you do with your life?” she said.

  “Some want me to use my power in their wars,” he said. “I wanted no part of that, but now I think that it might be a way to earn enough to give you a home if you would have me.”

  She looked up into his face. “Are you proposing marriage?” she said.

  Thal sighed. “I suppose I’m being more ridiculous than you are. I’ll take you home. I should not have lured you out. I was wrong…”

  Her kiss cut him off and urged him to stop thinking about their situation. They indulged again in a heavy petting embrace until they pulled apart.

  “I want to see you again,” Altea said, and Thal smiled at her forthrightness.

  “Look for me at the Knights of the Cross square tomorrow afternoon,” she instructed.

  “I will,” he said, unable to resist continuing the game he had started. He kissed her and tugged at the top of her gown until he exposed a breast. His lips tickled lower down her neck until he was nuzzling the firm swell of flesh. His tongue swirled around her nipple and she gasped and pulled away. He righted her clothing
while she recovered. They still had so much territory to cover in the exploration of their bodies. Their mutual need to mate was readily apparent, but Thal wondered how he was ever going to get her alone in a proper setting or if he even should.

  Pistol growled and trotted down the wharf. On alert now, Thal sniffed the stinking cocktail of fish and sewage and the mashy grain of brewing beer. Within the odors he detected what had worried Pistol. One of Vito’s sellswords was near.

  “We must go,” he whispered.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “We must be silent,” he insisted and took her hand.

  Altea had a little trouble hustling alongside him at his fast tireless pace. He often looked back, and she feared what was be spooking him.

  When they reached her alley, he stopped and kissed her with fierce hunger. Their connection still blazed with lust.

  “I don’t want to go home,” Altea whispered into his mouth.

  He did not seem to hear her and looked away. “Go home through the alley. I can’t linger here. I’ll see you in the square,” he said.

  “Thal?” she said.

  The tread of his boots and the pad of his dog’s feet faded into the darkness. The blackness of the city pressed down on Altea savagely. In Thal’s company the world had been a place of adventure with him as its master, but his abrupt departure stripped her of safety. The wild realm of late night city streets exposed her naked inexperience. She tried to squelch her anger over his abandonment. He had to have a reason. Their brief conversations tonight had only begun to fulfill her need to know his mysteries.

  Looking back, she heard footsteps and grasped that Thal was trying to lead the danger away. Groping in the dark, she hastened down the alley. The sanctuary of her home offered only meager relief. A new terror invisible to the outer world stalked her here. Quietly she made it to her room and slipped out of her gown.

  With her night clothes on, she knelt beside her bed. The dawn was coming but after such a wild night, she had prayers to speak.

  Crossing herself as she had been taught, she whispered, “Dear God, please banish Martin’s impure advances. I’ve done nothing to deserve this. I swear. Please help me keep him away. Amen.”

  Chapter 34. A Rendezvous Observed

  Tenzo discouraged a beggar with a stern look. The long haired sellsword would have denied the panhandler alms on principle, and the fact that he did not have a single coin worsened his miniscule sense of charity. But at least Tenzo felt optimistic that he was on the verge of getting his back pay from the stingy Jesuit.

  After prowling the Little Quarter nightly for a fortnight, he had finally spotted the elusive Thal last night. The figure with a fast gait and a thick cloak had slipped onto the bridge, and he had followed him.

  Once in Old Town, Tenzo had lost track of him until the gun shot had renewed his chase. When he had overheard voices near the river and one had been female, Tenzo quickly put together why Thal had suddenly taken to shooting people in the street. The thief had threatened whatever woman he was with.

  Suspecting that the woman must be in Old Town somewhere, Tenzo had resumed his hunt today in Knights of the Cross square. He figured Thal would pass through the square if he came into Old Town again.

  While prowling around the busy market, Tenzo became thirsty as the hot day wore on. Napping at the Clementinum until someone came across with some food and drink was becoming much more desirable, but then he saw him. Tenzo had almost missed him because of his slipping concentration. Thal was already halfway across the square. An effortless airiness buoyed his steps as if he did not walk as hard upon the ground as others. A sign of his sinful magic Tenzo assumed.

  Controlling his excitement, he drifted toward Thal.

  Thal turned down a row of market stalls. Tenzo hurried into the next row. Thal moved with a false casualness. His roving eyes were looking for someone. Tenzo hid his lurking presence in a small crowd gathered to watch a ridiculous puppet show.

  As the puppeteers screeched dramatically about corrupt judges and gallant folk heroes, Tenzo glanced toward Thal. The wily criminal would have likely noticed the surveillance on another day, but his dreamy smile advertised the depth of his distraction.

  When the sellsword spotted the young woman, he was duly impressed. The Devil himself could not have seduced a maid more fine. She deserved to be a princess of Bohemia with her straight body and perky bosom. Her fair face and golden braids reflected the hot sun as divinely as a meadow in full bloom.

  Tenzo smirked as he observed the happy couple try to act like they did not know each other. They looked over wares at the same stall and feigned innocent conversation, but Tenzo noticed how they stood too close. Long ago during his brief youth Tenzo had once played such flirty games with girls in the market. He was past such silliness now. A harlot was much more efficient and required little talking.

  The happy couple continued their ruse of shopping. Tenzo carefully pursued. He had no delusions about a busy public place keeping Thal from acting viciously.

  Snuffling between shoppers’ feet, a little brown and white dog investigated rotted fruit and the pee puddles of other dogs. Tenzo ducked into a fruit stand. The werewolf’s dog must not get a whiff of him. The vendor soon became irritated with his loitering. Judging that the dog had moved on, he edged back into the open and spotted Thal and the woman within the crowd. Their hands were touching. The furtive contact made Tenzo ache as he imagined their lust, but knowing that he had discovered a weakness in this monster excited him more.

  Keeping his distance, he watched them continue to sneak little touches. Sometimes they appeared to exchange sweet words but other times they looked sad. Tenzo supposed they were having trouble arranging their next tryst.

  The little rendezvous ended when a servant woman intercepted the young woman. Thal drifted into the crowd after exchanging a frustrated look with the woman he was wooing. With less spring in his step, he left the square by a different street than the woman. Tenzo followed the woman. Her location was crucial.

  As he trailed the woman he recognized the street. He had been on Karlova before when he had helped Brother Miguel stir up some mobs.

  When the woman went up the steps of Magistrate Fridrich’s house, Tenzo gaped with surprise. A man behind him muttered irritably because he had to go around the motionless sellsword. Finally accepting what he had seen, Tenzo rushed to the Clementinum.

  Vito was meeting with Miguel. He had obtained a new desk and the two men were pouring over lists of names while Miguel made notes.

  “Not now,” Vito said, not looking up when Tenzo knocked.

  Tenzo presumed to open the door. Vito greeted the intrusion with an acidic gaze.

  “I saw Thal,” Tenzo said, and Vito’s hot words died on the vine of his temper.

  Miguel jerked with surprise and knocked over an ink bottle. He cussed before he caught his wicked tongue and righted the bottle. A couple lucky names were covered by a black puddle.

  Vito met the sellsword at the door. “Are you sure?” he hissed.

  “I am,” Tenzo said.

  Vito ushered him inside and yanked the sticking door shut.

  “Where?” he demanded.

  Tenzo rested a thick hand on his sword. His belly growled a little beneath his chainmaille shirt.

  “Me and my men need some pay, Brother Vito,” he said.

  “This is no time to quibble. That Devil spawn stalks the streets and all you think of is coin for gambling and whoring,” Vito said.

  “The preaching and praying of your lot has not accomplished much. If you want to hear what I know, and I promise by God you’ll like it, then settle up accounts or me and my fellows are done with you,” Tenzo said. He spun out the door. “I’ll be in the dining hall,” he said.

  Planning some eloquent threats, Vito meant to stalk after his rebellious sellsword, but Miguel restrained him. The touch shocked Vito, and Miguel quickly removed his hand.

  “Just pay them,” he advised.
“Our rewards are in Heaven but his are on Earth. There’s no changing that.”

  Vito gritted his teeth, still resisting.

  Miguel added, “We just got our funding from the Abbott.”

  “But if I give into this bullying I’ll never have the control of him I need,” Vito confided.

  “His pay is what controls him,” Miguel said and his friendly face urged practicality.

  The outer door banged as the surly sellsword departed.

  “We’re not the only ones who can benefit from this knowledge of Thal,” Miguel said.

  “All right,” Vito relented. “You go get him.”

  Miguel hustled after Tenzo and turned him around with placating words. Back in the office, Vito was writing a note to the Clementinum’s treasurer specifying the amount of pay to be given to his hired men.

  Tenzo stood over his desk impatiently. Vito signed, blew on the wet ink, and handed the slip over. The sellsword looked it over, but Vito knew he could not read it.

  “Take that to the treasurer and you’ll be paid,” Vito said. “Now where is Thal?”

  Tenzo tucked the precious note into his purse and took the chair Miguel had been using. He relaxed back, savoring his victory.

  “He hides in the Little Quarter. Finding people who say they’ve seen him isn’t hard, but no one seems to know where he stays. Almost makes me think everyone’s hiding him,” he said.

  “I’m waiting to hear something useful,” Vito prompted.

  Amused with the irritation he caused his grouchy master, Tenzo explained, “But he visits Old Town because there’s a woman he desires here. This I have seen myself. They were just wooing in the Knights of the Cross market.”

  Vito leaned over his desk and steepled his fingers in front of his mouth. He was very interested.

  Tenzo continued, “I followed this fair maid to her home. She lives in the Magistrate’s house.”

  The news fell with a thud upon Vito’s ears. Finally collecting himself, he said, “A servant of the Magistrate?”