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

Werelord Thal: A Renaissance Werewolf Tale (11 page)

“And your powder horn,” Thal said. His calm
further infuriated Jan.

“I’ll put it up your ass!” Jan yelled.

Andreli grabbed the captain’s arm in a firm
grip. “It was a fair game and you know it.”

The powerful man shook off Andreli with a
fierce sweep of his arm. Andreli fell back against his wagon. Jan
stalked toward Thal who stood his ground. The captain swung his
fist and Thal dodged it without moving his feet. Jan recovered his
balance and swung at Thal again and missed.

Jan’s companions jumped into the tussle and
Thal had to move back.

“The powder horn too please,” Thal said
calmly. He was hoping to diffuse the situation. He even sympathized
a little. If he had lost the fur, he probably would have gone crazy
despite his plan.

Jan yanked the horn off his body, breaking
the strap, and hurled it at Thal, who dodged the projectile.

All the dogs in the camp rushed into the fray
and circled Thal’s feet, barking with unhesitating defense. Jan
kicked the little dog that charged him and it flew aside with a
yipe.

The sound triggered Thal’s temper and
reddened his vision. He barely restrained himself from
counterattacking. The half dozen camp mongrels kept Jan’s men back.
People were rushing up and forming a circle around the scuffle.
With more men at his back, Andreli bravely attempted to seize
control, but Jan’s fury was beyond reach.

“You think that’s the only gun I have? Plenty
more arms at the castle, but we’ll hardly need them to burn out you
tinkering tricksters. You should have left when I warned you the
first time. Try and run now!” Jan yelled. He pushed through the
crowd toward his horses with his companions in tow. They mounted up
and lashed their horses into a run through the camp to scatter the
Gypsies and their guests.

Thal picked up the powder horn. Happily the
cap had stayed on. The short dog that had earned a kick looked at
him, and Thal patted his head and murmured praise.

He held his pistol up to a hanging lantern
and admired his new prize, oblivious to the alarm around him. The
villagers were leaving quickly. The Gypsies were shrill as they
yelled to each other.

Andreli stomped up to Thal and shoved
him.

The hostility took Thal aback.

“Why?” Andreli demanded.

A confused frown was Thal’s first response
until he managed, “Did you want me to lose?”

“That would have kept my life easy,” Andreli
said.

“But all the money you need is right here,”
Thal said and gestured toward the abandoned game. Petro was already
sorting the coins.

Andreli clasped his forehead. After composing
himself, he patted Thal’s shoulder. “I’m sorry I yelled. Of course
you had to try and win with that hand. What luck!” He smiled
wistfully and accepted that the wheel of fortune was spinning
tonight.

Thal tossed his fur over a shoulder. “That
man wanted my fur. I think he must know something about it,” he
said.

“Know something about it?” Andreli fretted.
“What is that thing?”

“I don’t know how to explain,” Thal said.

Andreli shook his head. “Mother Mary help us.
We have to leave now or we’ll lose everything.”

“What do you mean?” Thal said, finally
registering the panic around him.

“He’ll be back with men-at-arms this very
night. He’ll set our wagons on fire. Take our livestock. Maybe even
kill us. He can do whatever he wants!”

Pleas from several people at once tore
Andreli away. He moved off into the crowd, yelling orders.

Thal looked down at the gun in his hand. He
was very glad to have it, and apparently he was going to have an
education in its use very soon. Resolutely, he tightened his grip
on it. He knew how to kill. Countless times he had felt the final
throes of life kicking while his jaws crushed the pulsing flow.

As if hopeful for divine guidance, Thal
looked up at the moon. Its gentle light illuminated new memories.
He had to defend these people who had been kind to him, and he
believed he had a way.

 

 

Chapter 8. True
Nature

Within an hour the bells were raising the
alarm at the monastery. Their clangs carried through the clear
night. The Gypsies scurried in the moonlight bundling their
possessions and harnessing their horses or donkeys. Babies cried
and children chattered questions that their parents were too
overwrought to answer. Most people hurriedly rolled up their tents
and canopies with resigned faces. The task was too inevitable.

Guilt needled Thal like thistles stuck in his
shirt. He had not been thinking about the consequences of his
actions for the other people.

He loaded up Emerald’s rugs, pots and pans,
and canopy because she had no husband to help her. She tucked
little items among the big bundles he lifted into her wagon and
told him where to put what and not to crush this or that.

Concern clouded her face that was usually
confident and jovial.

“I’m sorry,” Thal offered.

She paused in her packing. “Don’t blame
yourself. Things like this happen. We’ll get away. It’ll take a
while for that bully to get men up and armed from the castle,” she
said.

“But the villagers could be coming right
now,” Thal worried. He was confused by the contradiction of the
locals. They liked to play at the Gypsy camp, but the Gypsies’
presence was barely tolerated.

“Oh, those fools will fuss and yell but won’t
march up here until Jan gets back with some real men,” Emerald
said.

“I still regret causing this,” he said.

His concern was endearing to Emerald. “Oh,
Thal, I’m more worried about you. You’re the one he’s coming
after,” she said.

She had expected that dire fact to fill him
with dread, but instead resolution to face mortal danger hardened
his youthful features.

“He’ll find me waiting for him,” Thal
said.

“By yourself?” she criticized. “Stop your
foolishness. Flee with us. We’ll get away and be laughing about the
story around the fire soon enough,” Emerald said.

“I have to delay him so you can get away,”
Thal said.

“One pistol won’t be enough for that,” she
argued.

“I shall see,” Thal said thoughtfully as his
mind strayed down a path toward the far off forgotten magic of
hunters long long ago.

Andreli rushed up to Emerald. “I need you to
get the families moving now. Take the old road straight south.
We’ll make for Austria,” he said.

Emerald nodded and hollered to two lads to
get her sagging old draft horse harnessed. The beast looked ready
to spend its final years at pasture, but instead would haul a wagon
into mountains.

Catching Andreli’s arm, Emerald said, “Our
friend here thinks he’ll stay to fight off the castle guards.”

Andreli rolled his eyes at Thal’s juvenile
chivalry. His nod to Emerald told her that he would take care of
her precious guest. She gave Thal a hug and told him not to be
stupid. Then she got her wagon going so she could start the
procession away.

Proud of his people for their swift reaction,
Andreli had some hope that they would get away unscathed.
Experience had taught him to camp a certain distance away from
local authorities.

Sternly to Thal he said, “So you think that
you’re going to shoot your new pistol?”

“I think I’ll have to,” Thal said.

“You’ve got three lead balls and no
experience. How is that going to stop Jan and twenty of his
henchmen? Be reasonable. I know it’s hard for a young man, but you
must flee,” he advised.

“I must make sure you’re not pursued,” Thal
said.

Admittedly Thal’s bravery impressed him, but
Andreli still said, “Thal, you can’t kill any of them. You’ll be
condemned by the Rosenbergs. They could send word near and far of
your crime and make you a fugitive. If they catch you, they’ll hang
you. Don’t try to fight. It’s not worth it.”

“But he can threaten to burn your things? Why
doesn’t the law protect you too?” Thal challenged.

“Laws do not apply to Gypsies in positive
ways,” Andreli said. The injustice of it was dull to him. Coping
with reality was the concern.

Thal considered the potential of being
declared a murderer and understood that he would have to be
careful. “He’s coming for me to take the pistol and probably my
fur. If I go with your people, he might keep chasing. If I stay to
defend your retreat, he’ll have little motive to follow you,” he
said.

“You may be right,” Andreli murmured as he
watched wagons and carts lurch away surrounded by men and women
bent beneath heavy packs. Medina trotted by leading a milk cow with
bags tied across its bony back and a bawling calf in tow. He had to
think about the welfare of the group, but guilt on Thal’s behalf
nagged at him.

“Don’t blame yourself. I got you into
gambling with that ass. I should’ve stopped that nonsense about the
fur and pistol,” Andreli admitted.

Thal drew his new pistol. “Give me another
lesson on loading this and then go,” he said.

Andreli sighed as if he were disappointed in
himself. “Come let’s get my pistol. I can’t leave you here alone.
You haven’t any more sense than a tree. Now that I think about it,
we could shoot a few balls over their heads and scare them back.
Jan won’t be expecting it, I promise you that,” he said.

Thal grinned. He welcomed a companion in the
face of danger.

Andreli’s wagon was the last to leave with
Petro at the reins. Gerling had been willing to stay as well, but
Andreli wanted at least one firearm to stay with the group.

They followed the wagon until they reached a
quiet crossroads south of the river. Large trees stretched their
boughs over the narrow old road, making it a dark tunnel into the
hills. The last of the Gypsies slipped away and a pregnant quiet
overtook the two men who stayed behind. The moonlight brightened
the monastery on the hill overlooking the river. The straight lines
of the church tower confronted the soft infinity of the mystical
light. The bells had stopped ringing, but a line of torches was on
the road coming from the direction of Rosenberg castle.

Thal tracked the torchlight as it blinked in
and out from behind trees. Thal whirled when he heard the soft paws
of an animal pattering down the road behind him. Out of the shadows
emerged the short dog that had befriended him.

He bent to pet him. The soft short fur on its
brown and white head soothed his nerves. “Go on. Catch up to your
friends,” Thal said and gestured up the road.

“It seems Gerling’s dog prefers you now,”
Andreli remarked.

Thal scratched the dog’s ears. “You’re a good
boy, but go on.” After a gentle shove the dog retreated back up the
road.

Thal checked his pistol. He had been warned
that the wheel lock was notoriously unreliable. Andreli did the
same and then said, “We shouldn’t stand in the middle of the road.
Let’s get over by that thicket. We can fire from there and then
slip into the woods. If they keep going we can sneak along the road
and shoot at them again. But remember we’re just trying to scare
them. Don’t kill anybody.”

“Yes,” Thal agreed.

When they could hear the riders approaching,
Thal leaned out of the brambles. He could see the dark figures on
the road. His nostrils twitched to judge the situation.

“They have dogs,” he said.

To affirm his statement, their baying
began.

“Dogs!” Andreli cried, aghast. He had not
thought that Jan would break out the hunting dogs. Trying to spook
the castle guards from a hidden position was pure folly now.

Thal moved out of the thicket. Andreli
grabbed for his sleeve but the young man pulled away.

“What are you doing?” Andreli hissed.

“I’m about to get some practice that won’t be
a waste of powder,” Thal answered.

The barking intensified and the hounds
sprinted ahead of the horses. Thal’s keen eyes provided sharp
detail in the silvery light. The big fangs of the lead dog gleamed
with ivory malice. Its fat tongue flapped with spittle. Its claws
tore into the road. The thundering hulks of other hounds were close
behind.

Thal raised his pistol and set aside his
fear. This was not the first time he had joined in combat with a
fierce animal, and this domesticated beast was not going to be the
end of him.

The hound leaped at him like a stone hurled
by a catapult. Thal discharged his pistol. The powder flashed. The
bang vibrated at the end of his arm like a miniature thunderstorm.
The ball hit inside the dog’s open mouth and its head blew out the
back in a bloody spray of brains and fur. Its body skidded to a
stop at Thal’s feet.

The next dog, crazy with the hunt, leaped at
Thal. He bashed its head with a hard sweep of his smoking pistol.
The clubbing force of his steely arm crunched its skull.

When the third dog attacked, he ducked. The
dog sailed over him and he rose from his squat and caught it across
the stomach with his shoulder. Reaching up with his free hand, he
seized its throat and hurled it against the charging pack.

Flaring with savage intensity, Thal screamed
at his attackers. The dogs ceased their eager barking and lowered
their heads. Whimpering and confused, they retreated with the sharp
tang of their alpha’s spilled blood in their noses.

The riders arrived and the men were confused
by the wave of hunting dogs slinking behind their horses. They saw
Thal still standing in the road. Two dark heaps were spread upon
the threshold of his defiance.

Undeterred by the unexpected weirdness, Jan
moved forward on a fine destrier, its chest lathered from the long
run. His armor gleamed faintly beneath his bearded face, and his
rich voice was filled with victory.

“Having fun with my pistol?” he said.

Thal itched to reload, but he supposed it was
futile. Glancing among the men gathered behind Jan, he saw one
rider raise a pistol at him. Thal resisted glancing toward Andreli.
He had scared back the dogs so they would forget his hidden
companion. He hoped that Andreli was taking his chance to slip
away.

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