Werelord Thal: A Renaissance Werewolf Tale

by Tracy Falbe

  “Isn’t that presumptuous,” the woman huffed impatiently.

  “Eat woman. I know you like to,” her husband said as he happily received his plate of pork. She scowled.

  A plate was set in front of Thal. The slow roasted pork yielded beneath his knife without any more resistance than applesauce. He savored every bite, which was an ability of his man body that he was growing to appreciate.

  The man who had hushed his wife struck up a conversation. Easing back in his chair with a fresh beer, he introduced himself to Thal as Hubert the Miller. He had a thriving operation on the river.

  “You are a fortunate man to have so much,” Thal said.

  “Well, my family has worked hard at it,” Hubert pointed out, but he had gossip on his mind. “I’ve heard an extraordinary tale this spring and thought you might be able to confirm it since you’ve been traveling.”

  “What have you heard?” Thal said absently as he pulled a shred of pork off his knife.

  “Some imperial couriers coming up the south road told of a werewolf in the region of Rosenberg Castle. Did you pass that way?” Hubert said.

  Thal smiled. He set down his knife and glanced around the table, silently inviting everyone to listen. “I have heard that story,” he announced.

  A couple ladies gasped and all eyes widened.

  He continued, “The Rosenberg guard captain and his men were supposedly overcome by a beast on the night of a full moon.”

  “Were they butchered?” the Miller’s wife asked.

  “No,” Thal said. “They were robbed. When I was in Budweis, I heard that it was just a wild story the captain made up to cover his embarrassment about being overcome by bandits.”

  Everyone laughed.

  “So that’s how these stories get started,” Hubert commented and drank some beer. Foam clung to his mustache. His wife tried to dab at it with a napkin but he fended her off.

  Thal returned his attention to his food while the dinner conversation recalled historical werewolf sightings. He was pleased with himself for how he had deflected the story of Captain Jan.

  Later when Regis did sing, he opened with cheerful songs. Then he sang a ballad about Adriatic pirates that would be new to the Bohemians and they were riveted by the exciting yet sad story.

  As the dinner party dwindled into drinking and nibbling, couples approached the dance floor, and the musicians switched to dance tunes. Thal accepted a refill of beer and strolled outside. The party in the courtyard was getting rather rollicking. Pipers and drummers were playing for a line of male dancers who kicked their feet high and competed for attention from the crowd with their rapid steps. Then the men came back together and locked arms and danced in a circle while everyone laughed and clapped. Women took hands and formed their own circle and joined the men.

  The cheerful energy put a smile on Thal’s face. To be among people and feel welcome and safe were good things.

  “Thal the huntsman,” a woman said. Francesca slipped an arm around his waist.

  “Hello,” he said.

  “Will you dance with me?” she said.

  He hesitated to reply.

  Emboldened by the festive atmosphere, she poked him in the ribs playfully. “I’m not going to let you ignore me today,” she said.

  “I don’t ignore you,” he said.

  Francesca tugged him toward the dancing area where laughing men and women cavorted in alternating circles.

  “Dance with me,” she said.

  Thal was surprised by his lack of confidence in this situation.

  “I don’t know how to dance,” he said.

  Francesca faced him. Her skirt hem swished against his boots. “Does not Thal the great huntsman slay the beast and then dance around his fire in the forest like the pagans of old?” she said.

  “Is that what all this is?” Thal said and gestured around the courtyard where Patercek had set loose his little Bacchanal.

  Francesca nodded. She took his beer stein and put it on a table. Then she grabbed his hand firmly and pulled him into the dancing.

  “Just watch what the men do and do it,” she said. “And make sure you get me when it’s time to pair.”

  Thal yielded to the situation. He was awkward at first, but the men in the circle encouraged him and laughed when they messed him up by changing direction. Quickly he adapted and sensed in the music and the mood of his fellows when it was time to change direction. The women dancing on the inner circle were mirroring their movements and calling flirtatiously to the men. As the music quickened the men sped up but then someone would slow down the progress. The circling women were becoming more erratic in their movements too. When Francesca popped up across from Thal he realized that the men and women were trying to line up with or avoid certain partners.

  The music stopped and Francesca jumped close to Thal.

  “Ow!” she cried as another woman banged into her.

  Francesca grabbed Thal and fended off the other female with a look that any animal would understand.

  She placed her palms against his palms and they danced together until the music changed tempo again and the circles reformed. Thal was smiling when Francesca paired with him again. She put her body closer than before, and his body tingled with a deep response. The sensation was both pleasing and confusing. There was a wildness to it. Francesca was making her desires abundantly clear, and his increasingly bothered body urged him to toss aside caution.

  Their hands came together again. Her hips brushed against him, and he was suddenly certain of the pleasures that women had to offer. The promise of the coming dusk whispered to Thal of activities to be done in the dark.

  When he rejoined the men’s dancing circle again, he understood why some people slowed or sped up to avoid individuals. The cravings set loose by the dance could lead to regrettable actions. Although tempted by his inner cravings, Thal began to resist his manly needs. He had no intention of staying at Castle Patercek very long. Should he really mate with that girl and leave her? He knew what Regis would say to that question. Such behavior was the musician’s lifestyle.

  But Thal had a darker reason to belay his passion. Should he really inflict himself on a woman? He was not altogether a man.

  Thal did not have the heart to avoid partnering with her again. It seemed too publicly rude, but he danced her out of the crowd. His firm insistence thrilled her. She had never touched a man who projected such palpable power.

  Beyond the ring of clapping spectators, she slid her arms around his lean torso. She felt the fluffy fur stuffed inside his loose shirt and wondered why he had it there.

  Thal gently took her arms off him.

  “Francesca, you’ve been kind to me and I appreciate that,” he said.

  She was still catching her breath from the dance and did not get out a response before he continued, “I’m just a wandering rogue. You don’t know anything about me. Don’t throw yourself at me.” He was proud of himself for rejecting her. It was for the best even if his body disagreed strenuously.

  “I’m not throwing myself at you,” she said and jerked away from him.

  He was not sure what to say to her incredulous denial. His gaping silence only offended her more.

  “No wonder Patercek likes you so much!” she snarled and pushed him out of her way as she stomped back to the dancing.

  Thal was not quite sure what she meant, but he regretted hurting her feelings. Perhaps he should have discouraged her more gently. But he feared that if he had not been blunt, then he might have succumbed. His arousal had been edging toward a state of abandon.

  Thal looked around for his beer stein but he could not spot it. A boy rushed down the steps from the hall yelling for him.

  “What is it?” Thal said.

  “Regis says come. He has a song for you,” the boy said.

  “I hope he’s made some improvements,” Thal muttered as he went inside. At least it gave him a good excuse to leave Francesca’s vicinity. He meant to avoid anymore da
ncing.

  The better dressed guests of Patercek were gathered tightly around the musicians and the dance floor. Thal had expected as much. His friends’ talents never disappointed.

  Patercek cried, “There he is!” His face had gotten rosy from the influence of wine. “You can go ahead with your new song, Regis,” Patercek said, and everyone agreed heartily.

  Regis flexed his fingers that had been working hard at his harp. “We have compose a new song. Our travels from Venice have been good and bad. Good because so many people love to listen to us, but sometimes the roads are dangerous. Lucky for poor us we have our friend Thal to protect us from bandits.”

  Heads turned to Thal. Men looked at him quizzically as if seeing a man like no other although they could not quite mentally accept it. And women’s eyes swept over him with a measuring curiosity, as if he possessed something they had never experienced but subconsciously wanted.

  Thal nodded modestly. His friends began to play. Regis took to the deeper notes on his harp and crafted a rhythm that the zink and lute beautified with melody.

  The rhythm suggested the plodding hike of the open road, and the melody spoke of fair weather. Then Regis began to sing, using the Czech language. Oddly he had less of an accent when he sang. Something Thal always wondered at.

  Long roads, good people and beer

  In Bohemia are always near.

  The troubadour’s voice

  Brings girls of his choice.

  Bohemian forests green and sweet

  Cast shade for our weary feet.

  All was well in village and farm.

  We players never thought of harm.

  Then one night the fire went out.

  We musicians awoke with a shout.

  A plague of men so foul

  Came to make players howl.

  Hands on the throat to strangle,

  With bandits we did wrangle.

  I begged for an Angel to save us

  But got the Devil instead.

  He hit the bandits on the head.

  I begged for an Angel to save us

  But got the Devil instead.

  With his sword they were fed.

  I begged for an Angel to save us

  But got the Devil instead.

  Their souls are in Hell

  We players sing on well.

  I begged for an Angel to save us.

  But got the Devil instead.

  The applause was uproarious because of the excellent music and the scandalous lyrics. People liked to think about the forces of evil helping them even if such thoughts were wrong.

  Patercek praised the song effusively, and he received many compliments from his friends for the quality of his players. Thal eased himself away from the crowd. He did not want to field any questions about his role in inspiring the song. It was no secret that he had killed some local lurkers but he hardly wished to brag about it.

  He ventured to the buffet where the bones of the boar lay in juice and a few leftover vegetables. He picked out the tail and tossed it to Pistol who retreated happily under a table with his prize.

  ******

  Thal folded his cards. His luck had been solid all evening and he figured he had taken enough coin from Patercek’s guests. His two opponents in this hand of primero appeared quite relieved that he had relented and they focused on each other.

  One man was an aging knight with a limp and crooked fingers. Thal had seen him borrow money from his companions twice. The other man was a lord who Thal had learned owned a quarry. They placed a few more bets, and the knight actually won a hand. Thal was happy for him. The man had been making terrible plays all night.

  Thal had not started at this table in Patercek’s private game room. He had been betting with the tradesmen and farmers and horse breeders until they tired of his winning streak. They had all been as easy to read as typeset words. He would have been content with his modest winnings, but as the party wound down, Patercek had invited him into the game with his upper class guests. Thal was pretty sure Patercek did it to show him off and tell the story of the hunt again. Their shinier coin had added up nicely, and Thal was feeling quite confident about his finances. He would be able to finish his journey to Prague and not have to rely so much on his friends for dinner.

  “More wine?” Patercek said. He tilted the decanter over Thal’s crystal glass.

  “Thank you,” Thal said.

  Patercek clunked the decanter against the crystal but it survived the impact. He was getting bleary now that it was late.

  “Well I’m not going to let Gregor win back any more tonight,” the man who had just lost the hand announced. He pushed the cards sloppily into the center of the table, refusing his deal.

  “How about you, Patercek?” the old knight asked.

  Patercek looked at Thal. “Do we really want to give our friendly traveler any more money?” he asked.

  Thal glanced down and sipped his wine. “My luck could sour,” he murmured.

  “Oh, to Hell with it. I’m going to bed,” Gregor decided. “This will have to do. A fine game gentlemen.”

  “Orsh can show you to rooms. I do so hope you rest well,” Patercek said.

  After Patercek bid the two men good night, Thal stood from the table. “I’ll be retiring as well. You were kind to include me in your game,” he said.

  Patercek chuckled. “That’s a mistake we shan’t make again,” he said.

  “If it consoles you at all, my Lord, I do rather need the money,” Thal said.

  Patercek plucked his wine glass off the table. Being a little drunk, he swept his eyes wistfully up and down Thal’s body. “Tell me, Thal, you could have won that last hand couldn’t you?”

  “Perhaps.”

  “So you were just being merciful,” Patercek said.

  “I did not wish to upset your guests, as a courtesy to you, Sir,” Thal said.

  “Thoughtful of you. Good thing they are better losers than most men,” Patercek said.

  “Indeed,” Thal agreed, knowing too well how tempers could flare over a lost pile of wagers.

  Patercek covered a yawn and then grabbed a candlestick off a side table. He yipped when drops of wax hit his wrist. “Shall we go find our musical friends?” he said.

  “If you wish,” Thal said.

  They found the musicians sitting with people around a fire in the courtyard. Crackling flames snapped orange cinders into the starry night framed by the walls. Drunken singing set the friendly mood. Regis had his arm around a young woman, but he excused himself from her soft company when Patercek beckoned.

  The men followed their host into the castle. Not much of an effort had been made to clean up after the banquet yet. Greasy dishes and empty cups and bowls were strewn across the tables. Someone was snoring in a dark corner. Brutus and Lucky and Pistol lolled lazily near the buffet having licked the floor.

  Patercek ignored the clutter and took the men back to his game room.

  Regarding them fondly, he said, “Such lovely music tonight gentlemen. I offer my utmost compliments.”

  The musicians thanked him politely. They had honestly made their best effort on his behalf.

  “I will admit that I’d love to keep you all to myself, but your talent deserves to reach Prague. That exuberant city will inspire your music. I admire the journey you fellows have undertaken for the sake of your craft, and I’d like to help you on your way,” Patercek said. He removed three letters and passed them out to Regis, Raphael, and Carlo. He patted Carlo’s hand as the young man received the letter.

  “I’m providing you with letters of introduction to my sister Carmelita Hrabe who resides in Prague. She’ll appreciate you as much as me and love showing you off to her friends,” he said.

  “Lord Patercek, thank you!” Carlo cried. His friends added their gratitude and clutched their precious letters lovingly.

  Patercek continued, “Carmelita is recently widowed and I gather that she is rather enjoying it. She’s likely throwing lot
s of affairs and can put musicians to good use.”

  Overjoyed, the musicians thanked Patercek again and again until Regis said, “What of Thal?”

  Thal appreciated his friend’s loyalty, but he did not want to make Patercek uncomfortable about the omission. Thal understood that he might not be the sort who ever got letters of recommendation from anyone.

  Patercek drew out his fourth letter. “I haven’t forgotten your beloved bodyguard,” he said.

  Thal was surprised by the happiness that swept away his disappointment. He had meant to take the rejection stoically and inclusion caught him off guard.

  “You’re so kind to me,” he murmured as he accepted the neatly folded and sealed letter. It seemed as if a token of civilization was passing into his hands. This was a little piece of strange magic that could not be found in the forest.

  “I’d have a word with Thal alone. Now shoo, shoo. Go back to that girl Regis,” Patercek said.

  He waved them away. Carlo bounded forward and kissed Patercek’s hand before departing.

  Thal turned the letter over in his hands. “Letters such as these are not lightly given are they?” he asked.

  “Not when I recommend someone to the household of my sister,” Patercek said.

  “I am flattered by your approval, Lord Patercek. You shan’t find it misplaced,” Thal said earnestly.

  “I’d like to have your promise on that,” Patercek said with great seriousness.

  “I’ll bring no harm to Lady Carmelita,” Thal pledged.

  “Thank you. When mother finds out what I’ve done, I’ll need that promise to placate her,” Patercek revealed.

  “Does Lady Zsazi not like me?” Thal said.

  “You bother her woman’s intuition,” Patercek said.

  “It’s not my intention,” Thal said regretfully.

  “I know, but I’m certain Carmelita will adore you. I decided to send you to her because she might be able to steer you toward some work that suits your talents. Her in-laws have radical ambitions. These are prickly times. Frankly I worry about her, but I’d take some comfort knowing a good man was watching out for her,” Patercek explained.

  Thal absorbed the information. He knew nothing of the intrigues of the upper social circles of Prague, but if Patercek asked him to support his sister, then he would.