by Tracy Falbe
He took a deep breath to calm himself. The men did not move as if they expected a confrontation, and Thal chose to play the card of surprise.
As soon as the men passed through the entrance below his feet, Thal climbed over the rail and dropped down to the threshold. He landed just as two men exited. Thal begged their pardon and then shouldered his way between them through the door.
Standing inside the front door, he had a clear view of the back of Krengar. The knight had stopped abruptly and was looking directly at the musicians. Perhaps it was only Thal’s fondness of heart that made it seem that every lantern hanging from the ceiling illuminated Altea’s face like an angel, but she had surely seized Krengar’s attention as soon as he heard her voice. She and Regis were looking at each other as they sang, and she had not noticed who had come through the door.
Thal drew both pistols and bounded up behind Krengar. He pressed a gun barrel to the back of the man’s head and said, “Go up the stairs.”
“What?” Krengar cried and turned. His eyes blazed with fury to see Thal standing behind him.
One of the knight’s companions lunged at Thal, who dodged his fist easily, and then clubbed the fellow hard on the ear with his other pistol. He stumbled away clutching his bloody torn ear.
Krengar gnashed his teeth and momentarily cared nothing for his mortality. He spun and bashed the pistol away from his head and swung hard with his other hand. It landed on Thal’s chin, and Krengar tackled him. They fell back in a tussle and knocked over several people who had been listening to music. They sprawled across a table, scattering a card game, and rolled off the end without pausing in their fight. From all directions, Thal’s pack descended on the altercation. Harvath seized the second man in Krengar’s company when he pulled a dirk to help his master. The wiry man shoved him in the middle of the back and sent him into a wall.
Within the alcove where Sarputeen chatted with Missy, he raised a hand to halt her pleasant prattle. He leaned over the table to get a better view of his son apparently wrestling for his life with Duke Thurzo’s champion.
“Impulsive youth,” Sarputeen grumbled. “Is this what he does in town?”
Missy shrugged but watched excitedly as a boorish brawl overtook the high class establishment. She saw fellows in fleece ponchos seize two men and pin them to the floor.
“Where were we?” Sarputeen said, and she turned back to him.
“Should you help your companion?” she asked.
Sarputeen took another glance at the fighting men and shook his head. He held his palms up, and she returned to her interpretations of his fortunes. “You have a very long life line,” she commented.
“You’ll find that I am long in many ways,” he said, and she tittered almost shyly.
“And I’ve been at the monastery a long time,” he added.
A shout and a crash distracted them briefly as Thal and Krengar bashed through the doors into the street.
Thal spun as soon as the cold air hit his face and pushed Krengar down the steps. The knight held on to him fiercely, and Thal tumbled after him. Thal rolled off the man and popped to his feet with his pistols aimed at the knight. He did not want to shoot him, but, if the man drew his sword, he might have to put down the Duke’s surly servant.
Even as killing presented itself as a viable choice, Thal tried to think of an alternative. If he fired a gun, more people would notice him, and Krengar’s dead body in the street would make his exit from town even more complicated.
Pistol shot out of the tavern and bounded barking down the steps. Behind him followed Altea, and she swooped over Krengar just as he got to his feet. His hard fist was wrapped around the handle of his sword, and the dire look on his face left no doubts about his murderous mood.
“Sir Krengar, there’s no need to fight over me. I was waiting for you,” Altea declared as she wrapped her arms him and thwarted his attack.
Her splendid affection distracted his appetite for vengeance. Only weakly did he try to push her away, but his manhood could not quite allow himself to break their connection. His fondness for her flooded back like a bad habit.
Thal chuckled and put his guns away. “I can see that the better man has won the maid’s heart,” he said.
The spectators who had spilled out of the tavern to witness the fight wilted with some disappointment to see the men’s furor subside.
Johan tried to take charge. “Nothing but a squabble over a girl,” he announced disdainfully. Mileko hovered behind him, expecting to be needed, but the people began losing interest quickly due to the biting night air.
“Come inside, upstairs,” Altea invited teasingly. She wound an arm through Krengar’s arm and pressed close. She loved how strong she felt compared to the robust man.
Thal took off his hat. “My apologies, Sir. Clearly, I’m no prize compared to you.”
The crowd dispersed as Altea led Krengar back inside. Despite her distracting touch, he kept his eyes on Thal as he felt drawn helplessly along in the current of her insistence.
Inside, Harvath, Mitri, Ansel, and Lenki had paired up to the restrain the other men. Lenki had a dagger out and was menacing one man’s throat as Ansel held him firmly.
Thal caught her eye and motioned discreetly for her to put away the blade. She obeyed, but her blood lust was left unsatisfied.
Thal handed a coin to Johan and told him to keep Krengar’s men occupied with a drink.
Altea continued toward the stairs with Krengar, and Thal followed at their heels.
The knight balked about half way up the stairs, and Thal pulled a pistol again.
“You can’t get away with shooting me,” Krengar growled.
“I agree that getting away might be a problem, but shooting you won’t,” Thal said.
“Sir Krengar, please, we must talk,” Altea said and tugged on his arm.
He shook off her hand, determined to deny the uncanny grip that she had on him.
“You must tell me what happened at that village,” Thal said.
“You know what you did,” Krengar snarled, restrained only by the prospect of hot lead exploding in his skull.
“It was not my doing,” Thal said.
“Come,” Altea urged gently, and Krengar relented.
She plucked a candle from a sconce in the hallway so that they could have light in their room. Thal closed the doors of the balcony to block the cold wind. Krengar stood in the middle of the room with his arms crossed, and Altea took her place next to Thal.
“Thank you for giving us a chance to speak,” she said.
“Giving at gunpoint,” he remarked.
Thal said, “Krengar, I suspect that my enemy made the attack look like it was me.”
“I’ve no intention of believing what you say,” Krengar said.
“Why are you so certain it was me?” Thal asked.
“The villagers saw wolfmen and many of the wounds were clearly from animals,” Krengar said firmly.
“Many? Not all?” Thal asked.
Krengar refused to answer instead of admitting that he did not know.
“Take me to this place so that I might track the thing that did these awful deeds,” Thal said.
“The trail is cold. We already tracked the attackers with dogs as far as a ford,” Krengar revealed.
“Dogs never track me,” Thal said.
“So you say,” Krengar mumbled although he was starting to lose his certainty, mostly because the Duke had told him to not assume anything.
Overcome with a sense of urgency, Thal stepped closer to the knight. “We must hunt what did this. You’ll never stop him without my help. I fear it’s the fext sent by Tekax to torment your land for harboring me,” he said.
“All the more reason you should be put down,” Krengar flared.
Alarmed by Thal’s astute guess at the cause of the horrible crime, Altea said, “We’ll draw the monster away from here so your people will be safe.”
“The fext will hunt me above all others,�
�� Thal explained. “I’m your only defense against it.”
“It’s here because of you,” Krengar argued.
“And if you destroy me, then it shall have a free rein to spread terror. It’s a servant of an Eastern sorcerer,” Thal said.
Altea added, “Sir Krengar, you’ve spent time in our company. We’ve been guests in your Duke’s house. Surely you must see that Thal would never engage in such a brutal attack.”
“I’ve read at length about his brutal attacks,” Krengar said.
“Those were not aimed at innocent people going about their lives. I only acted against those who wronged me and mine,” Thal said.
The full weight of his earnestness impressed Krengar. When he looked at Thal, he could see the beast in his eyes, but he could not convince himself that he saw a liar.
“Sorcery,” he whispered and turned away, wishing his role did not require him to confront the dark legacy of his Thurzo masters.
“Take me to Strecno and I’ll find the one who killed your people,” Thal said.
Krengar clenched his fists. He wanted to lash out at Thal and rid his world of this beast, but the allure of being a hero was tempered by the fear of being wrong. If another creature of sorcery did walk the land, Krengar did not want to face it on his own.
“I will take you,” he said.
Chapter 23. The Sniper
Crowing roosters shattered the dawn in the stable yard. Church bells marked the lauds, but few others in Zilina had roused themselves as early as the keepers of holy time, except for Thal and his company.
They assembled in the kitchen of the tavern. A little nudging from Sir Krengar had made the innkeeper amenable to their desire for discretion and food supplies. Thal advised his pack to eat well because he was not sure when next they would have shelter.
He sat in a corner cleaning his guns while the others ate. His certainty that Janfelter had been responsible for the false attack by wolfmen grew with each moment. He wondered if this certainty was the knowing that his father had referred to.
Thal expected to find the hateful thing’s trail and confront him again with his father and the pack. He glanced often at the door, wondering when his father would arrive. Even the musicians, who were notoriously averse to early mornings, sat blearily at the table with Altea. Thal supposed that his father had a right to distract himself with female company, but it was not the sort of thing that a son liked to envision.
More worrisome was the trust that he had placed in Krengar. The knight had gone off to prepare for their departure but could just as easily be planning a treacherous attack. Prudently, Mileko had shared in his suspicion and was keeping watch for trouble from their second-story room.
When Johan finished eating, he approached Thal. “My Lord does not follow his order to eat well,” he observed.
Thal appreciated the genuine concern that he heard in the man’s voice. Johan was a natural nurturer.
“Hunger makes the mind sharp for the hunt,” Thal said.
“So you expect to find this fext soon?” Johan wondered.
“I hope to,” Thal said.
Johan wrung his hands before consciously suppressing the fretful fidgeting. “How shall we help you when we cannot change? The full moon is weeks away,” he said.
“You helped last night,” Thal said.
Johan recalled laying hands on one of Krengar’s men. His new strength had surprised him, and the experience had bolstered his confidence for rough encounters. But his modesty persisted, and he said, “Harvath did more than me.”
“And you knew how to speak to the people and deflect their curiosity,” Thal said.“I suppose I did, my Lord,” Johan said, encouraged that his master valued what talents that he had.
Sarputeen sauntered into the kitchen and took a hot sausage out of the pan. He hissed as he bit into the warm meat and walked over to his son.
“I’d say you didn’t quite stay out of trouble last night,” he said.
Thal continued to check the wheel lock on his pistol to make sure that it sparked properly. “For the most part I did,” he said. “Are you ready to travel? Krengar will take us to Strecno.”
“Mileko has informed me of everything,” Sarputeen said and finished his sausage.
“I expect to pick up the trail of the fext,” Thal said.
“What of your plan to rescue your warrior friend?” Sarputeen asked.
“I think we can do both. We’ll not want to engage Janfelter at first but look for an opportunity to set a trap. We’ll reveal ourselves and then draw him toward us as we continue to Pressburg,” Thal said.
“You’re sure he’ll follow you?” his father asked.
“He’ll want to observe me. He fears me and will be looking for weaknesses in me before he attacks me again,” Thal predicted.
“I see,” Sarputeen murmured, satisfied by his son’s reasoning.
Thal heard horses approaching. He stood up and brushed by his father on his way to the back door.
Fearful of betrayal, Altea and the others hastened to finish packing their bags. The musicians hoisted their instrument cases.
Thal eased the door open a little and watched Krengar canter on his horse alley into the stable yard. Six men in the Duke’s uniforms rode behind him, and Thal tensed with concern.
As Krengar rode by, Thal burst out the door. Standing on the stoop, he was almost level with Krengar on his horse. The animal shied from Thal, and the knight used a firm hand to control the horse.
“Blessed Virgin!” Krengar swore. “I thought you were jumping on me.”
“Did you bring the gunpowder?” Thal asked impatiently.
“Yes,” Krengar said. He gestured for his men to wait in their saddles and then bounded up the steps to the kitchen door. “I believe you didn’t attack Strecno,” he announced.
“You believed me last night,” Thal said.
“I gave you the benefit of the doubt. This morning, I am sure,” Krengar said and drew Thal inside. “I’ve been brought news of an attack on the western road. Two imperial couriers were found dead, badly bitten by animals. Their horses were killed too.”
Thal appeared outwardly calm, but the roots of his hair fluttered with excitement. “Take me there now,” he said.
“Yes,” Krengar said, and he scanned the others in the room. Confusion crossed his features when he saw the monk. He had not noticed him last night, and now suddenly recognized him.
“Your father is among us?” he whispered.
“He has come forth to protect your people. Tell your Duke that,” Thal said.
Krengar looked down, and the meek gesture conflicted with his tall stature. “I did not know he was here,” he whispered.
Thal glanced at his father, who observed with inscrutable disinterest. The man inflicted some sense of superstitious discomfort upon Krengar, and Thal felt a twinge of jealousy.
Sarputeen wended through the crowd toward the knight and his son. Mileko had rushed downstairs and walked behind him.
“Mileko will ride with you. The rest of us will catch up on foot,” Sarputeen announced.
“Very well,” Krengar said. He ducked out the door, thankful that the sorcerer had nothing more to say to him.
After they left, Thal asked, “Do you think Janfelter saw us enter Zilina and did this to lure us into a trap?”
“Perhaps, but it does not matter. We’ll soon strike him hard. I know it,” Sarputeen said.
******
Once the werewolves and musicians had hiked far enough from town to reach the cover of woodlands, Thal and Sarputeen shifted. Altea strapped the fighting blades onto Thal’s body. He brushed her shoulder gently with his shaggy cheek as she worked, but his affection could not allay her worry.
“They could have guns,” she warned.
Thal dropped to all fours, and she set a hand on his handsome head. His dense fur warmed her cold fingers, and she longed to join him in his bestial state. The full moon felt an eternity away. Would every cycle pas
s so slowly?
And with this thought, his body slid away beneath her fingers.
With Thal and his father gone, Altea gestured to Regis to give her the bag that held Thal’s clothing and weapons.
“I can carry it,” he said.
“Really, it’s no trouble,” she insisted and grabbed it from him. Her friend eyed her suspiciously. He had grown accustomed to treating her gently when she had been recovering from her injuries, but her skin glowed with new vitality, and she seemed unaware of the cold that was already sinking unpleasantly into his feet. She stepped forward with a vigor that he had never seen in her before. She was much changed since last they were companions, but he hesitated to inquire about the reason.
******
Thal and Sarputeen slipped across the land almost invisibly, even in the bright morning sunshine, by moving along narrow tree shadows. They kept just off the road but paused near a group of travelers. They overheard the group speaking uncomfortably about the grisly slaughter that they had just passed.
When father and son drew closer to the place of killing, the wind brought them the smell of blood. They ascended a hill to study the land. The narrow road bisected the rolling woodlands. Krengar had already reached the dead men and horses. His men were wrapping the bodies while Mileko observed. Even at a distance, his nervous posture was apparent.
An unnatural hush silenced the land. Thal scanned the area suspiciously.
From their vantage point, they saw Altea and her companions come around a bend. As Thal watched them, tension tightened his brawny neck. They looked vulnerable. He and his father started downhill. They approached the scene of murder by stealth, not wishing to alarm the men in Krengar’s company. The men loaded the bodies onto their extra horses and turned for town.
Thal took his opportunity to advance when their backs were turned. He sniffed the area of mayhem. The splashes of pink gore on the thin snow had not soaked into the frosty ground. The attackers had made no effort to obscure their tracks. Thal confirmed the use of attack dogs, and then went cold when he hit a track left by Janfelter.
