Werelord Thal: A Renaissance Werewolf Tale (61 page)

Martin finished his wine with a long gulp. He
found little consolation in being bait for Thal. He hoped the
monster went for Altea first.

“I can’t believe that girl was sneaking out
with a werewolf,” he said, still amazed. His knuckles hurt from the
beating he had given Elias, but eventually the foolish lad had
accepted that defending Altea would doom them all.

“It must have been Gretchen’s influence,”
Zussek said.

Martin shook his head, disappointed with
himself. He had been too dazzled by the loveliness of his late wife
to refuse her anything, even her midwife witch. But he could prove
his innocence by cleansing the city with the power of his
office.

He supposed it was best that Altea had been
accused and taken into custody. His lust for her had been becoming
unbearable, and he was grateful to be free of her wicked
temptations. He would condemn her in the morning and be done with
her forever. Brother Vito was right about them needing to act
quickly. Her swift execution would demonstrate his commitment to a
righteous and orderly society.

Martin recognized the light knock on the door
as his secretary.

“Yes.”

The secretary stuck his head in and said,
“Your children are safely off to your cousin’s estate.”

“Good,” Martin said and waved him away.

Zussek settled into a chair in front of
Martin’s desk. “You should leave the boys in the country for a
while. A few months at least. Give them time to get used to their
sister’s absence.”

“That would be good,” Martin agreed. He
understood that his sons were attached to Altea, but their hearts
would move on. She had only been their half sister after all, and
only on their mother’s side.

Relaxing back into his chair, he said, “Such
strange days. In all the tumult today someone even told me they
couldn’t find my gavel. God knows I’ll need it tomorrow.”

The odd detail puzzled Zussek. He imagined
that it was a clue that Thal had been looking for the Magistrate
during his murder spree.

The secretary returned and admitted Vito and
Miguel. The quiet Jesuit with the leather case handed papers to
Vito who set them on the Magistrate’s desk.

“Confessions from both witches,” he announced
triumphantly.

Martin scooted the paper bearing Altea’s name
aside with one finger, and looked at the other sheet. “You got
another witch already?” he remarked.

Vito said, “There will be more.”

“By God I really thought we got them all this
spring,” Martin said.

“Bohemia has long been a den of heretics,”
Vito said with a warning tone that Martin did not miss.

Changing the subject, Martin said, “Do you
think you have enough men outside the jail to kill Thal when he
comes?” He patted the little silver box in its pocket.

“I do. We’ve brushed their weapons with holy
water to help against the beast,” Vito said. “I even spared three
to wait at your house. Any chance to kill this thing must be
taken.”

“So you’ve given up the hope of catching
him?” Zussek asked. He had rather looked forward to the opportunity
to examine such a prisoner and testify against him in a public
trial.

“I can still hope,” Vito said.

“Wine?” Martin offered tiredly, not really
looking forward to his night of waiting in fear.

“Yes thank you,” Miguel accepted before Vito
had a chance to decline. He fetched the bottle and poured for
everyone.

A commotion down the hall and a voice
demanding to see Brother Vito disturbed their drinking. Vito
hurried out of the office, greedy for good news from Rainer and his
sellswords. They had returned but their bloody and bruised
condition was immediately obvious as was the absence of one man and
Rainer.

“Did you get him?” Vito asked urgently,
ushering the men into a waiting room for privacy.

“NO!” one of the men said as if the thought
of success were absurd. “One is dead, and your crazy monk jumped
off the bridge we are told.”

Nonplussed, Vito gaped at the bizarre news
while the sellsword reported all the details.

“Did Thal push Rainer?” Vito asked.

“I don’t know. We were still picking our
teeth up out of the street, but people said your monk jumped. I
don’t think anyone would lie about a monk killing himself,” the man
said.

Vito clenched his fists and tried to manage
his anger. Rainer’s loss was a bad blow. Dominating the perilous
creature had added to his power, but he was not a man to focus on
his losses.

“Report to Tenzo at the jail. We’ll need you
on watch tonight,” Vito said.

The surviving sellswords shuffled their feet
and looked to their spokesman, who said, “We’re going back south to
fight in normal wars. Not going to see us crossing blades with
Devil beasts again.”

“You can’t leave,” Vito argued.

“While I still got two feet I can,” the
sellsword said, turning away with his mates.

“God needs good men to stand up,” Vito
said.

“God should’ve made more good men then,” the
man grumped and departed forthwith.

Left alone in the room, Vito assessed his
inability to capture Thal. His dream of possessing him as a
powerful servant was slipping away. At least killing the werewolf
would still provide him substantial prestige.

When he heard Tenzo yelling, he went out to
investigate. His new Constable was waving his hands with disgust in
the doorway. The slanting sunlight coming in from the square cast
his shadow into the hall. Looking rather disgruntled, he came in
with a big man behind him.

Vito intercepted them.

“Those laggards are walking off,” Tenzo
complained.

“They told me. It’s just as well. They failed
against Thal,” Vito said.

“Thal’s luck will run out soon,” interjected
the man beside Tenzo. He had a cut on his cheek and bloody bandage
tied around his throat and hand.

“This is Captain Jan Bradcek of House
Rosenberg,” Tenzo introduced. “He’s been tracking our werewolf from
Budweis.”

“I almost got him today but there are armed
forces defending him in the Little Quarter,” Jan complained.

“What?” Vito said, truly astounded.

“He’s got allies everywhere. This whole
city’s protecting him,” Jan said. “I’ve come looking to see if
anyone in Prague is on the side of the law.”

“Law and Heaven,” Vito said and introduced
himself. “We’re expecting him to come here tonight. We’ve captured
his lover and my men lie in wait for his appearance.”

Jan approved of the plan. “I’ll stay and
help. My Baron has put a reward on him after he molested his folk
this spring.”

“I welcome your help and am interested in
hearing your tale. And recording it if you don’t mind. A scholar of
such beasts is here too. I’m sure he would be fascinated by your
accounts of Thal,” Vito said.

“I’ve seen him shift into the beast with my
own eyes,” Jan boasted.

The three men joined Martin and Zussek. The
Magistrate ordered his secretary to send for food so they could
settle in and wait.

Pistol stretched his legs, front and then
back. Wagging his tail, he went to his master. Thal was peeking
through the chapel door. Dull lavender light faintly lit the
stained glass windows. He scanned the garden, confirmed that it was
still empty, and slipped out into the dusk.

After wrapping his cloak tightly and tugging
his hat low, he emerged onto a street and went to the Condottiere’s
house. Without acknowledging the proprietor or servants, he hurried
up the stairs to his friend’s suite.

Valentino answered the door with his
manservant.

“Are my friends safe?” Thal asked without
delay.

Before answering, Valentino told his
manservant to go downstairs. The man shrugged and happily abandoned
his chores.

Bolting the door, Valentino told Thal that
the musicians were recuperating at Carmelita’s. “I was worried that
you were caught,” Valentino added.

“An attempt was made,” Thal said. He sat down
while Pistol sniffed around the room to see if anything had changed
since that morning.

Valentino faced a mirror hanging over a table
with a water basin. He returned to combing his hair and admiring
the progress of his grooming. “I was waiting here as long as I
could, hoping you would come back,” he said.

Pistol stopped next to a cuirass leaning
against the wall. Thal recognized the rose design on the armor and
said, “Did you slay Jan Bradcek?”

Valentino set down his comb and fiddled with
his earrings. “No, I just took his armor and gun,” he said.

Despite his many upsetting concerns Thal
could not resist laughing. “I’ll have to kill him later,” he
said.

“I told him to get out of the city. He’ll
go,” Valentino said.

“No, not him. Not after he’s come this far,”
Thal argued.

Valentino shrugged. He inspected himself in
the mirror again and said, “Perhaps you’re right. Men are stupid
that way.”

Noting the Condottiere’s clean clothes and
fresh face, Thal said, “Meeting her Ladyship?”

“Yes. She has a message for you. She can’t
extend hospitality to you anymore. She is sorry,” Valentino
said.

“I know.”

“I told her as much. And damn you Thal, but I
think she would have it otherwise,” Valentino said.

“She’s not the woman in my heart,” Thal said
to ease his friend’s jealousy.

“Ah yes, your complication,” Valentino said.
He pulled a chair up next to Thal and continued, “Now, Thal, I know
you don’t want to be part of my business but please heed my advice.
You need to get out of the city. I can help you with that. We’ll go
tomorrow. I’ll set you up with a little command in Pilsen and you
can hide out. I know we could go far together with your special
powers. I know powerful people who appreciate powerful
friends.”

When Thal did not immediately dismiss the
proposal, Valentino added gently, “You need a place to take that
woman you want.”

Thal had only been half listening. Valentino
wanted access to his power, but Thal understood that powers acted
upon him. The vengeance for his mother was not complete. Her spell
would nag at him until the Magistrate was gone. Or perhaps it was
his angry heart that demanded action. Thal decided there was little
difference between the two.

He brought out his purse and spilled some
coins into his hand. The gold florins sparkled with a greedy gleam.
“I’d like to buy that extra set of armor,” he said.

Valentino extended a hand. “You can have it
as a token of partnership between us,” he offered.

Instead of shaking hands, Thal stood up and
gave a florin to Valentino.

Valentino closed his fingers over the coin
but frowned with frustration. “The armor’s worth more than that,”
he complained, disappointed not to have struck the deal he
wanted.

“You also get my pledge of friendship,
Valentino,” Thal said.

The Condottiere understood the distinction
and was content. He pocketed the coin. “Stay here tonight. I’ll get
you out of the city tomorrow, my friend,” he said.

Thal tossed off his cloak and fur and picked
up the armor.

“What are you doing?” Valentino asked
suspiciously.

“I intend to finish my business in Old Town
tonight. It’ll be dangerous but this armor should help,” Thal said.
He looked over the armor, trying to judge how roomy a fit it could
offer him.

“Do you need help?” Valentino asked.

Thal shook his head. “You mustn’t involve
yourself with me tonight. I will act alone,” he said.

Valentino hesitated to argue. He guessed that
Thal was going after a more important person tonight than a
constable and some grungy gaolers. Valentino knew to pick his
battles wisely – a skill he hoped to impart to Thal someday.

Thal put on the armor. Jan’s scent on it
reminded him of his hatred of the man, but his punishment could
wait. Thal needed to move against the Magistrate. His hesitation
had already increased the danger. The attack that afternoon by men
employed by Vito warned him that the Jesuit had more trouble
planned for him too.

“How will I find you again?” Valentino asked
as Thal finished getting the armor on.

“I’ll find you,” Thal said evasively.

“Well I suppose you’ve had no trouble
darkening my door so far,” Valentino remarked.

Thal arranged his fur inside his cloak as he
usually did, but paused after swinging the fabric across his chest.
His eyes lost focus as he heeded senses other than his eyes. Pistol
growled very quietly. Valentino noticed the twitch of Thal’s
nostrils.

Despite his unsettled feeling, Thal’s senses
delivered no tangible details. He listened to the world outside for
a moment longer but heard nothing out of the ordinary. Unhappily he
recognized the bothersome sense of being hunted. He had observed
many animals in the same state, but having the feeling creep across
his nerves was very disquieting.

“I must go,” he whispered and rushed to the
window. He lowered himself out and dropped to the ground and ran
away. Pistol scratched at the door until Valentino let him out.

Pushing the bolt back in place, Valentino
went to the window. “Good luck, my friend,” he whispered.

Accepting that Thal needed to be left to his
dark deeds tonight, Valentino got his cape and riding gloves. He
anticipated recounting his adventures to Carmelita. The Condottiere
held up a candle and checked his appearance in the mirror one more
time, but a sudden chill across his back made him forget to look at
himself. He whirled and saw the bolt on his door moving on its own
accord. The gentle grind of its mechanical motion roared in his
ears.

He dropped the candle. It went out and hot
wax splashed across the floor boards. He whipped out his rapier as
the door swung open. Lunging forward, he meant to attack, but his
rapier started shaking. Startled by the inexplicable vibration, he
almost dropped his sword.