Werelord Thal: A Renaissance Werewolf Tale (37 page)

Read Werelord Thal: A Renaissance Werewolf Tale Online

Authors: Tracy Falbe

Tags: #witches, #werewolves, #shapeshifter, #renaissance, #romance historical, #historical paranormal, #paranormal action adventure, #pagan fantasy, #historical 1500s, #witches and sorcerers

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.

Altea only dozed fitfully the rest of the
night. At dawn pounding on the back door got her up. Martin was
already dressed and coming out of his room.

“That’s probably Bekcek,” he said.

Her stomach tensed. Only a serious problem
would prompt his Constable to come get him. Something horrible must
have happened.

The governess came down from the attic,
rubbing her eyes and wondering what all the commotion was about.
She had slept through everything.

“Take care of them,” Altea said and followed
her stepfather.

At the back door Hynek had let in Constable
Bekcek. His brassy medallion was bright against his black clothes.
He glanced with his narrow eyes at Altea who was only in a
nightgown. She disliked his leering gaze and ducked into the
kitchen. Cynthia and Esther crowded behind her as she peeked into
the hall.

“Magistrate,” Bekcek said and took off his
hat.

“What’s happened?” Martin demanded.

Bekcek shook his head. No soft heart beat in
his chest, but he had been bothered by what he had seen. “Horses
were slain in their stables last night. Folk said it was a giant
hairy beast took ’em out like a dog killing rats. It was more
demonesque than a normal beast. Devil sent for certain. Then two
street men got butchered near the Jewish Quarter. Ugly scene that
was, even in the dark. Folk also say there was two beasts, but you
know how stories get. There’ll be twenty of them before the sun
sets,” he said.

“Two of them?” Martin muttered. He hoped that
would make them easier to find. One night of howling could be
dismissed, but a second night coupled with terrible killings was
going to demand an official response.

“I’m ready,” he said and left with his
Constable.

His willingness to forgo breakfast informed
Altea of how seriously her stepfather was taking the situation.

Elias came downstairs just as the door
slammed behind his father. Altea told him what had happened.

“A killing spree?” he said, quite shocked.
“And people said it was huge?”

“That’s what Bekcek told him. And there’s two
of them,” she said.

“They’ll need to be hunted down,” Elias
said.

Altea supposed the monsters would be found
and killed although part of her wished they would just run away and
leave the city. She disliked calls for blood, especially when she
imagined the majesty of the creature whose songs touched her so
tenderly. How could something that produced such a lovely sound
spread slaughter and terror?

She helped the governess get the boys dressed
and commanded everyone to have a normal breakfast. They were
halfway into the meal when excessive noise in the street
interrupted them. The front door knocker clanged like it was being
struck with a hammer. Hynek plodded off to answer it.

From down the hall he soon called, “Young
Master Elias, I think you should come.”

The tremor in his old voice was worse than
usual. Elias bounded up from his chair and banged against the edge
of the table. All the dishes were jostled. Altea followed him.

Hynek had not opened the door. It was still
latched from the night. Elias looked out a window and gasped. He
yanked the curtains over it.

“There’s a crowd out there!” he cried.

The door knocker kept clanging and another
fist banged on the wood.

Altea hurried up to the window and peeked
out. The street was thronged with men.

“Don’t open the door,” Hynek advised.

“I have to,” Elias said and unlatched it.

For once Altea was inclined to agree with the
valet and caught her brother’s hand on the latch.

“At least let me go with you,” she said.

“It’s not safe,” Elias argued.

“All the more reason you should not step out
there alone,” she said.

“I’ll take Hynek,” he said.

“Why not get one of my old ragdolls to
protect you?” she scoffed, not caring if the valet heard her.

“Stay here,” Elias said and unbolted the
door.

Altea ignored him and followed him out. Elias
shoved back the two men beating on his door. The agitated babble of
the crowd erupted into fierce shouting.

“We want protection!”

“Find the monster!”

“He didn’t get all the witches!”

“Who’s going to hunt that damn beast?”

“We want to see Magistrate Fridrich!”

Elias waved his arms and yelled, “He’s not
here! He’s gone to the Court!”

Deaf to his cries, the crowd kept clamoring
for the Magistrate.

Altea smacked the knuckles of a man hanging
on the iron railing. Her sharp whack made him let go and drop back
to the street.

“He’s not here! You’re frightening his
children! Go away!” she yelled.

“What about my children?!” a man yelled.

Altea scanned the faces, uncertain of who had
spoken. “Go home!” she cried.

Elias grabbed her and pulled her inside. He
slammed the door and shoved its bolt into place. The thick wood
muffled the irrational demands that continued to froth out of the
mob like eggs from coupling frogs.

“It’s useless. They won’t listen,” he
said.

“I suppose they’ll go away eventually,” she
said, miserable at the thought of being besieged all day.

The other boys ran down the hall and clung to
their brother and sister.

“Papa must be told these people are here,”
Patrik said.

“I think Patrik is right,” Altea said. “Your
father would send men to break up this crowd if he knew about
it.”

Elias frowned thoughtfully and looked like a
skinny version of his father. Altea had never seen her half brother
look so serious and mature before.

“Let’s go to Father. I can’t stand this. We
need armed guards,” he decided. “What is wrong with people? Can’t
they think at all?”

“Leave the house?” Altea said.

“We can still get out the back alley if we go
quickly,” Elias said, rushing down the hall.

His brothers looked to Altea, sharing in her
fear. She waffled on the rough ground of her anxiety for only a
heartbeat. They needed to get away. If they could not reach
Martin’s office, she decided to take her brothers to a friend’s
house.

She gathered the three boys close to her and
said, “Have courage. The people aren’t mad at us. They just don’t
know what to do. We’ll get to Papa and he’ll keep us safe.”

******

Martin collapsed into his chair. It groaned
in greeting. His secretary brought him a cup of milk, which he
accepted gratefully. The cocks were still crowing and he already
felt like the day was long.

Constable Bekcek hovered on the other side of
his desk. His eyes were bloodshot but glittering. He liked the
excitement.

Martin waved a hand toward the door. “Well,
go on and gather up your tough fellows so I can announce we’re
hunting this thing. Maybe that’ll make that pissy pants mob go
away,” Martin said. He took a drink. The milk would soothe his
empty stomach. His nerves were quite disturbed after having to
force his way through the upset throng in the square. He honestly
sympathized with their terror, but the rabid demands of the common
horde only made things worse. The pointed questions he was
expecting from the Burgomeister later that day concerned him far
more.

“Magistrate, this hunt’ll take more time than
usual,” Bekcek said.

“Why?”

“It seems dogs won’t track it,” Bekcek
answered.

“Well, do your best,” Martin muttered, not
wishing to over think the uncanny news.

His constable nodded thoughtfully and
left.

Martin’s secretary came back in with a
leather bound folio full of parchments. It landed on the desk with
a hefty thud.

“What’s that?” Martin asked.

“The office of the archbishop sent it over
yesterday,” the secretary explained. “It’s the latest list of known
heretics in Bohemia.”

Looking like he had just been told to eat
worms, Martin undid the leather strap restraining the bundle of
notices. He thumbed the edges of the pages but did not read
anything.

“I’ll get to this at my soonest convenience,”
he grumbled sarcastically.

He then told his secretary to cancel his
entire Court schedule that day. The new situation with the
murderous beast was surely going to be demanding all of his
attention. After dismissing his secretary, he enjoyed the
peacefulness in his office. The noise from the square was
diminishing a little. He assumed the men-at-arms had finally shown
up and were clearing the area. He pondered how he was going to
shift around his budget to accommodate this emergency and schemed
how best to wheedle more funds out of the city fathers, maybe even
the crown if he got creative.

Familiar voices in the hall startled him. He
was out of his chair when the secretary opened the door and Elias
rushed in.

“Father, people are mobbing our house
demanding to see you,” he cried.

Alarmed to see all of his children trooping
into his office, Martin said, “Didn’t you tell them I was
here?”

“They won’t listen! We were frightened. I
decided to get us out of there,” Elias explained.

“Send men to make them go away,” Patrik
said.

Altea came in last and set down Erik who ran
to his father.

Martin told the secretary to arrange sending
some men to his house.

“Why would they come to our house?” Elias
asked.

Martin patted his eldest son on the shoulder.
He was proud of Elias for taking decisive action but he could tell
the boy was shocked by the irrationality of people.

“Men in important positions must sometimes
suffer the inappropriate attention of underlings,” Martin said.
“These attacks have people upset. They look to me to protect
them.”

“Can you Papa?” Yiri asked.

“I’ll get it sorted out,” Martin said.

“Can you show us where you sit in the Court?”
Yiri asked.

His swift change of subject bemused Martin,
but he supposed he could indulge the request. His children had been
frightened and perhaps it would reassure them.

“I’m very busy but why not squeeze in a
tour?” Martin said. He led his sons out of the office, but Altea
dallied. She did not feel the need to see where her stepfather sat
in official judgment of people.

After glancing out in the hall to confirm
Martin was actually going with his sons, she sauntered around his
desk and sat in his chair. It was big and overstuffed. A surprising
sensation of being magnificently important struck her as she
bounced on the seat. Looking over his desk with its papers and
books and selection of quills, she imagined what it must be like to
be officially respected.

She pulled the thick leather folio close. The
seal of the See of Prague was embossed on the cover. Flipping it
open, she skimmed the cover letter. It was in Latin and she could
not make much of it out. The next page bore the letterhead of the
House of Rosenberg and was written in the imperial German, which
she could read. She perked up when she realized it was a notice for
a wanted criminal.

The dastardly details of Martin’s world
tempted her curiosity.

“Be it declared that one Thal Lesky
purportedly of Prague is wanted for crimes against Church and
State.”

She covered her mouth. She had not told
anyone about him, not even when he snooped by her home. Her brief
interactions with the strange man were her secrets to savor, like
deviant daydreams that divert the crushing tedium of life’s
demanding routines.

She read onward.

“Hereby it is declared under an oathe to God
that Captain Jan Bradcek a loyal servant of House Rosenberg swore
that the guilty partie did worship the Devil and call upon unholy
magiks to achieve a bestial state known commonly among the folk as
a werewolf. In this corrupted form the changeling did assault
decent men and steal from them. Furthermore it was reported that
after his appearance new babes did sicken and die in villages
adjoining Rosenberg Castle where the werewolf did manifest itself.
Accused of crimes of heresy including but not limited to Devil
worship, spell casting, shape shifting, animal intercourse, and
thievery, he is to be captured and delivered to any authorities
sacred or secular for the safety of all Christian citizens. A
reward of twenty gold florins is offered by the House of Rosenberg
to be delivered upon his presentation living or deceased to
Rosenberg agents.”

Altea was trembling now. She had encountered
a werewolf. And he was hunting her! Although truly shocked by the
extent of his crimes, she believed that he did not hunt her with
brutal motivations. He likely only wanted to speak to her again
about his mother. These crimes attributed to Thal might be as
unfair as the accusations that had condemned his mother. Altea
still could not equate Gretchen with devilry, no matter how much
evidence was presented.

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