by Tracy Falbe
She smiled, surprised by her urge to believe him. Flush with sudden trust, she added, “My husband is away in Munich, so you can understand that I was frightened alone in my chambers.”
Thal tried to ignore the image of her in a bed. “The wolf you hear sing in the night is far less dangerous than one creeping close in silence,” he said.
“That’s sensible,” she said. “You’re so very knowledgeable. And it seems Carmelita has taken in a hunter just as soon as Prague needs one.”
“I’m just here with the musicians. Nothing more,” Thal said.
“That’s not what the Condottiere is thinking,” Joana said. She leaned closer and steered his attention toward Carmelita and her dance partner. “He’s obviously trying to woo her. I daresay that she just might take him for a lover.”
“That would be her business,” Thal said.
“You’re not jealous?” Joana said.
Suspecting that the girlfriend was spying, Thal considered how to answer. “A man can only be jealous of what he can’t have,” he said.
“Oh,” Joana said, titillated by his presumption.
A servant rushed in waving his arms. “It’s happening again! There’s a beast howling!” he cried.
Everyone exclaimed with surprise. The room started to empty as people rushed outside to hear the howling.
Joana and Thal stared at each other. Each was equally alarmed for different reasons.
Joana saw Carmelita and her closest friends heading for the staircase. “Come with me,” she said. Thal followed her up to the balcony that overlooked the street frontage.
Guests had spilled down the front steps. More people were coming out of other buildings. The moonlit edges of the dark city were bisected by the graceful curves of the Vltava. When people hushed themselves they could hear coarse and vicious howling.
“Thal!” Carmelita called.
He worked his way over to her.
“Tell us hunter, where is it?” she asked.
Thal waited for the next howl to rise and fall. His own shock at what he was hearing distracted him. Was it Rainer? Was it an unknown werewolf?
“Can’t you tell where it is?” Valentino said impatiently.
Finding his tongue, Thal said, “It’s in Old Town. Maybe the Jewish Quarter.”
“Are you sure? I thought you said it was on an island in the river,” Valentino said.
Because of his shock Thal had briefly forgotten his previous story. “It’s in the city proper tonight,” he added.
“Shall you hunt it?” Valentino said.
“Yes,” Thal said. His unhesitating conviction surprised Valentino.
When Thal turned to leave, Carmelita tugged on his sleeve. “I wanted you to meet my associates after the party,” she said.
“My apologies. I must go, my Lady,” he said and rushed away, deeply distracted.
Carmelita frowned but did not make a big fuss lest she embarrass herself. Thal’s elusive nature enticed her as much as it peeved her.
“You want him to meet our associates?” Valentino asked soberly.
“My brother recommended him. Thal’s a man of courage,” she said.
******
Regis caught up to Thal at the front door. People buffeted them as they moved in and out of the house. Some of them were howling for a joke.
“Thal!” Regis called and nabbed his cloak. When the fabric was pulled aside, Regis glimpsed the fur hanging down his back.
When Thal turned the glint in his eyes startled Regis.
“Don’t try to stop me,” Thal said.
“Be careful,” Regis said.
“Do NOT follow me,” Thal said.
“Keep your clothes on,” Regis suggested hopefully.
Thal set a hand on his pistol and considered his options. He offered Regis no promises and rushed off into the crowded street. Pistol hurried after him.
Regis stayed on the steps. Another distant howl pierced the night and he shuddered. The voice of this beast lacked the sad beauty of the previous night’s song.
Raphael came up behind him and set a hand on his shoulder. “He’ll come back,” he said.
“I worry he’ll get hurt,” Regis said.
“Then we will help him,” Raphael said.
Regis sighed.
“Sing Thal’s song to bring him luck,” Raphael said and nudged his colleague back to the party.
******
Thal ran across the Little Quarter. Curious people kept spilling out into the street or hanging out their windows. Dogs were barking and baying. Horses squealed in their stables. People watched Thal’s dark form dart down the streets and wondered at his solitary mission.
He quickened his pace when he reached the bridge. A lone rider galloped by him going the other way. Neither of them paused to investigate the other.
The howling had ceased for a while but then it resumed with manic savagery. Regis had been right to worry, and Thal accepted that he could not confront this thing in his man form.
When he reached the Knights of the Cross square, its eerie nighttime emptiness was disquieting. During the day the area was a hub of traffic and vibrant citizenry. But in the night, the moon shone on its stony emptiness like it was an abandoned ruin. People on this side of the river were not rushing outside to listen. They were barring their doors, knowing that a beast prowled their streets.
The bells in a church tower started ringing the hour. Thal sensed the dedicated soul in the tower pulling the rope. Nothing kept that man from his appointed duties.
Thal snuck alongside the church and found a dark crevice in the foundation to hide his things. Swiftly he stuffed in his weapons and his clothes.
The night air was cool against his sweaty bare skin. The silver blue moonlight beyond the ringing tower beckoned his spirit. As the eleventh hour finished striking, he held his enchanted fur to his hips and said the words. The world might condemn him as Devil begotten but the holy ground beneath his bare feet impeded his magic not at all.
Pistol cringed with his chin on his paws. His eyes gleamed with admiration. Thal threw wide his arms and trembled as the spell seized his flesh and connected him to a time when man was proud to be an animal and thought of nothing else.
The transformation tormented his body but it took his consciousness to another plane that gradually transcended the agony. The beast strength overtaking his body triggered a euphoric thrill. He tossed back his shaggy head, wanting to howl, but he silenced himself. He was hunting.
Thal stretched his arms and legs and lifted his tail. He gnashed his jaws, loving his teeth and their bone crushing power.
Dropping to all fours, he loped away from the church. The other werewolf howled again, and he turned toward the sound. When he smelled blood he slowed his pace. The moonlight made the shadows that much more black and he slunk within their borders. Guided by the blood scent, he soon found bloody footprints and detected the signature of Rainer. This comforted him a little. He did not really consider Rainer an enemy, but he accepted that in werewolf form the Jesuit might be dangerous.
Investigating the blood, Thal turned a corner and encountered a frantic knot of human activity. Several men were in the street with torches and pitchforks. One had a gun. They were shouting to their neighbors to stay inside. Two dogs were with them, but they did not follow the trail that Thal knew was obvious to them. Despite his size, he disappeared easily into the shadows and watched the men and dogs. When they went farther down the street, Thal moved in to see where they had come from.
He found broken stable doors and three horses with their throats torn out. The werewolf must have assaulted the confined animals in a vicious frenzy. He had fed very little. Only some choice organs had been ripped out in haste.
Terrible screams in the night drew him back into the street. The screaming ended abruptly. Thal raced toward the sound. Discarding caution he ran past the group of men with torches. Their dogs gave way in submissive silence. The men gaped in speechless horror, each one relieved that
the monster had spared him. It embodied all their primal fears of the forest and it had dashed down the street with its tail high.
When Pistol trotted after the werewolf, the men shook off their astonishment. As the little dog disappeared into the night, one man finally said, “Did you see it?”
“Yes.”
“God save us, what was it?”
“We need to get more men,” announced a very practical fellow, and the group fell back to reassess their chase.
Thal entered the Jewish Quarter and the unmistakable scent of human blood bit into his nostrils. He came upon the werewolf in the midst of his slaughter. He had torn into a camp of beggars. People were screaming and fleeing, and a big furry beast was mauling a limp body in its clutches.
Thal snarled deeply and jumped in front of the werewolf. Rainer dropped the body but stood over it defensively. His black lips pulled back from moonlit canines, and a growl like an avalanche rumbled in his thick throat. All his fur lifted and enhanced his size.
Thal bristled as well and confronted the werewolf with silent supremacy. He felt the nervous uncertainty within the beast, but admired the transformation of Rainer. The disturbed man was now powerful and beautiful and free of his human frailties.
Rainer snarled and snapped but Thal did not flinch. With ears forward and tail up, Thal approached a little more, asserting their kinship and diminishing their potential conflict.
Gradually Rainer lowered his head and eased back from the sad body beneath his dripping jaws. The man’s clothes were rent. His scalp was torn open, and his crushed throat drew air no more.
The Rainer werewolf cringed lower and nudged the body with his nose, deferring to Thal in the presence of the kill. Thal snuffled the corpse. Still hot with freshly extinguished life, the meat beckoned him. He licked his lips as salivation revealed his hunger. The tender vitals of the man enticed him, and Thal remembered the long familiar joy of earning the first bite of a fresh kill. He struggled against the natural impulse to feed. His powerful werewolf body craved a massive delivery of nourishment.
His big sensitive nostrils explored the body. The meaty scent intoxicated him. His tongue licked across the torn scalp and the salty taste of blood dimmed his connection to his humanity. The simple joys of living, hunting, and feeding awaited him. There was nothing to stop him from descending into the blissful existence of a predator merely fulfilling its function in the circle of life.
But the face of the man troubled him. The smooth forehead and nose reminded him of how his face would be when he changed back to a man. And he would have to change back. Thal suddenly understood that he could not maintain his werewolf form all the time. He was not a wolf, like he had been. He was a man now. Great magic made him a unique man, but a man nonetheless.
As the stiff hairs of the dead man’s beard prickled Thal’s nose, he recalled the sensation of Carlo carefully trimming his goatee, and his connection to humanity flared back up and illuminated compassion. His basic hunger fell back into its proper place.
He stepped around the body and sniffed Rainer. The other werewolf growled and slunk away, but Thal stayed with him, gently maintaining light contact.
Very slowly the tension in Rainer eased and he sniffed Thal back. Shouting men down the street interrupted them. Bright torches cast shadows of men and pitchforks, hammers, and clubs. They yelled bravely and stayed in a tight group.
Thal decided to avoid a confrontation. He did not want to be in a position to hurt or kill people rightly defending themselves. And Rainer would obviously kill again if given any provocation.
Brushing his body against Rainer, Thal leaped away. He looked back and yelped once to tell Rainer to follow. The other werewolf hesitated, but the choice between an angry mob and the open heart of Thal was ultimately not difficult.
Thal led him to the river. He jumped into the water and started swimming toward an island. Rainer swam after Thal. Pistol stayed on land. When the men reached the water, the little dog slunk away and was not seen. Men yelled and waved their torches. The flowing water reflected the orange flames, but no one saw the dark heads crossing the water.
Thal sloshed up the muddy bank and shook the water from his fur. Rainer came up behind him shortly. Thal walked along the shore until he reached the pointy tip of the small island that bisected the flowing water. The moon was still high in the sky and he lifted his head and howled softly.
The long gentle note soothed Rainer. He had only known the raving difficulty of his transformed state that commanded him to hunt and kill. But the voice of Thal revealed his pure acceptance for his animal nature. Again Thal howled. When the note ended, he stared at Rainer expectantly. Water swished alongside the island and a fish jumped with a splash.
At last Rainer summoned a sound other than the murderous yowl that celebrated his killing. He mimicked the gentle sound that Thal had made. Its beauty vibrated through Rainer, and the werewolf glimpsed the possibility that one with lethal strength did not have to be ruled by savage passions.
Thal and Rainer howled together next. Their blended voices caressed their spirits. Both beasts were overcome by the companionship.
In time they reached a subconscious agreement and fell silent. The experience had been very intense for both of them. Rainer walked away from Thal and hid himself in the bushes growing around the trees. Thal remained on the bank with the moonlight glistening on his fur and the profile of Prague all around him against a starry sky.
The conflict within Rainer was easy for Thal to sense. The werewolf wanted companionship and guidance, yet something held back trust. Thal imagined how difficult life was for the poor man. He had not chosen the forest as Thal had. And he could not control his transformation.
Giving the werewolf space, Thal lapped at the river water and then settled on the ground. Separated by a short distance, they waited through the night in silence. As the moon sank, Thal wondered when Rainer would shift back to his man form. Thal longed to talk to him, but he dared not shift, especially without his weapons handy. The ambivalence within Rainer toward him was worrisome.
Without warning, Rainer dashed from his hiding spot and jumped into the water. He swam toward Old Town. Thal followed. When he came out of the water, Rainer turned on him with a snarl. Thal hung back briefly before catching up to Rainer in the Knights of the Cross square. He turned on Thal again with a discouraging snarl, and Thal accepted that Rainer did not want him to follow. Dawn was coming and he reluctantly decided to use the remaining darkness to retrieve his clothing and return to being a man.
Rainer disappeared across the square. Pistol caught up to Thal next to the church while he was putting his clothes back on. Exhausted and ravenously hungry, Thal plodded toward the bridge. He was disappointed by Rainer’s rejection. He had expected to win over the other werewolf. Thal believed he could help the man come to terms with his altered existence. And selfishly Thal longed for an ally truly capable of hunting at his side.
Chapter 23. An Unmapped Kingdom
Erik’s crying jolted Altea from her slumber. Yiri’s cries soon joined those of his bedmate, and Patrik told them to be quiet.
Shaking off her sleep, Altea sat up and heard what had awoken her brothers. A monstrous yowl told of a creature in the night.
She jumped out of bed. Her bare feet did not bother to find her slippers as she ran out the door. She bumped into Elias in the dark hall. They rushed into their brothers’ room.
“The monster! Monster!” Erik wailed. Altea gathered him into her arms. His wet sobs dampened her gown. Yiri rushed to Elias who picked him up.
“I told them there’s no monster,” Patrik complained.
“Hush!” Elias said.
The howling filled the sudden quiet. Altea immediately realized that it was not the same creature whose howls had embraced her feelings the night before. All warmth left her skin as she shared in the terror of the little boy clinging to her.
“How can there be a wolf in the city?” Elias wondered.
/> Yiri cried louder and his big brother patted his back. “It can’t get us. Our house is strong,” he said.
Patrik moved over to his older brother now that he heard the howling. Their father’s footsteps creaked in the hall and his candle battled back the fearful dark.
“Like your brother said our house will protect us,” Martin said.
His linen nightshirt billowed around his padded physique, and his hair was comically messy.
A spurt of shrieks and snarls chopped at the night and the children cringed. Martin went around upstairs and made sure all the shutters were secure.
“Stay with the young ones,” Martin said to Altea. “Elias, let’s check the doors.”
Altea’s three brothers piled into one bed with her, and she soothed them despite her gnawing worry. The nasty predatory sounds triggered instinctive fears and promised bloody death.
Then the howling stopped and the boys calmed down. Altea tucked Patrik back into his own bed and then settled Yiri and Erik under their covers again.
She was about to tell them that the scare was all over, but the monstrous cries suddenly started again. Somewhere in the city a life and death frenzy was underway.
“It’s farther away,” she told her trembling brothers. They agreed but remained wide awake with terror.
When the quiet returned, she sang them lullabies and told them their mother’s spirit watched over them.
Martin and Elias came back upstairs. Martin told everyone to go back to bed. “Tomorrow will be one for the books,” he muttered as he went to his room.
Tired, Altea snuggled up to her brothers. Everyone tensed when the howling started again, but she soon relaxed. The sound was different. The beauty had returned. The beast sang of life instead of killing.
Her brothers heard the difference as well. They were not as afraid and could have faith in the walls of their home. After they finally fell back asleep, Altea tiptoed to her room and very quietly cracked open the shutter. The howling remained peaceful and she let its spiritual energy massage her fears. Looking up at the moon, she listened and almost understood.
She believed there were two wolves. This disturbed her, but at least the one that spoke directly to her soul had come back, perhaps to tame the other. She hoped so.
