Werelord Thal: A Renaissance Werewolf Tale (28 page)

Vito had Miguel ask a pedestrian for
directions to the Jesuit Academy at the Clementinum. The local man
easily pointed down the correct street. The old monastery at Saint
Clement’s chapel was a well known spot. When Vito reached the
place, he found disheveled buildings and much activity. Servants
were scrubbing the steps and a pair of men was repairing a hinge on
one of the priory doors.

Inside, cloths were draped over benches and
tables, and workers were polishing freshly installed wood panels.
Farther in, the monks entered a long hall. Artists were working on
a mural and a scaffold filled half the room as men installed a new
ceiling.

Vito scanned the bustling mess and spotted
the dark clean robe of a monk. He had trouble getting the man’s
attention. The man was complaining to the workers on the scaffold.
A white-haired tradesman of some sort was at his heels toting rolls
of paper.

They argued briefly and then consulted the
plans until finally the monk was satisfied that the directions were
being followed.

The monk looked back at Vito and Miguel. His
visible disappointment showed that he had been hoping the two new
monks would have found their own way by now.

“My apologies. You can see I’m quite busy.
Who are you?” the monk said.

Vito introduced himself and Miguel.

“There’s only the two of you?” the monk
said.

“I’ve recruited a dozen new brothers plus I
have sellswords in my company,” Vito said.

A little more satisfied, the monk said, “A
decent start. The more men to defend against the accursed
Protestants the better. Where are you from?”

“Rome. I have letters of introduction. The
Papacy has condoned my mission,” Vito said.

“Very good. We’re expecting more brothers
from Rome. It’s so pleasing to see Prague a priority. The Emperor
has done the right thing in drawing a line against those German
heretics. God knows Bohemians have had their lapses in faith,” the
monk said, shaking his head at the locally libertine attitude.

Irritated that the man had not introduced
himself, Vito pointedly asked for his name.

“I am Brother Alanse.”

“Can you direct me to Abbott Krunek?” Vito
pressed, recalling the name of the local administrator on
record.

“I serve as his secretary. I doubt he needs
to be bothered with your arrival. His hands are quite full with the
academy and helping prepare the city for the arrival of the new
archbishop. We hear he’ll be underway from Vienna any time now,”
Alanse said. “Here, show me your letter.”

Frowning, Vito opened his leather sack and
retrieved the small bundle of folded and sealed parchment. With the
lovely Papal seal showing brightly on the top, he extended the
letter but did not let go when the man took it.

“We intend to actively reinforce love of
Mother Church among the good people of Prague,” Vito explained.

Alanse tugged the letter free. Every new man
from Rome thought he was going to personally lead the battle
against heresy. Alanse worked to make sure the influx of new
brothers understood that the Jesuits in Prague already had
leaders.

He held the wax seal to the dusty light
streaming from a high window to confirm its Papal origin.
Satisfied, he cracked the wax and read the letter carefully. The
monks shifted on their feet impatiently.

“This seems to be in order,” Alanse said.
Folding the letter sloppily he shoved it back to Vito. “Find the
steward. His name is Otto. He’ll get you the lodging you require,”
Alanse said. When he turned away, Vito intervened. He disliked the
man’s dismissive attitude.

“Brother Alanse, I would appreciate it if you
showed us the way,” Vito said.

Alanse glanced around the hectic scene and
decided his temper would benefit from leaving it for a while. “Very
well. Come this way,” he said.

Once they were out of the noisy work area,
Alanse asked, “What talents do you have to offer the academy?”

“My mission is to focus on recruitment.
Brother Miguel hopes to earn a teaching position. My new brothers
are not scholarly but can serve well preaching and attracting the
young to our school. Over time that will reinforce the people’s
love of the Church. Let not the next generation be guided into
literacy by the rantings of those Devil-begotten Protestants,” Vito
said.

“Your help is badly needed,” Alanse said.
“People seem willing to believe anything these days. All sense of
right or wrong is being lost. We had to burn a dozen witches
earlier this spring,” Alanse said.

“Really?” Miguel said.

“Dreadful scandal,” Alanse said, warming to
the gossip with the newcomers. “Many important households were
mixed up with those Hell brides, but they’re all acting like
nothing happened now.”

“This is exactly why His Holiness has made
Prague a priority,” Vito said. “The Jesuits will never tire in the
battle to save the people from wickedness.”

“You’ll need much fortitude. Our prayers
alone can’t wish away the sins released by that accursed Luther,”
Alanse said.

“Indeed action is needed,” Vito agreed,
pleased to be overcoming the monk’s initial annoyance with him.

Nodding absently, Alanse stopped at a door
and looked into a room. It was empty and he continued down the hall
and said, “You should look up Professor Zussek at Charles
University. Although that disgraced institution is still on
probation after the mess Huss made of things, Zussek is a scholar
with rare accomplishments. He trained in the law, and he’s our
local expert on witchcraft and Devil worshippers. He’d enjoy
telling you about our local issues.”

“My thanks for the recommendation,” Vito
said. He exchanged a look with Miguel who had noted the professor’s
name. A chance to meet with a scholar was always welcome.

Alanse turned down a narrow little hall. They
went down some steep steps and out a door into an alley alongside
the priory. A wagon was unloading barrels of supplies, and Alanse
found the steward counting bundles of firewood as workers stacked
the fuel.

He explained the lodging needs of the newly
arrived group and rushed back inside. Vito found Otto the steward
equally harried. Eventually the steward dispatched another servant
to show Vito where his men could stay. The Dominican monastery that
had been transferred to the Jesuits for the purpose of opening
their academy was in a borderline decrepit state. And the building
presented to Vito was perhaps the worst of the situation. The dank
and nearly windowless north-facing stone building looked like it
had been built before the Crusades. Moss was creeping inside at the
few windows. The front door did not latch. The rushes on the floor
were desiccated twigs, and the rooms in back smelled of cat
urine.

The servant departed swiftly. Vito and Miguel
looked around. Circling back to the front door, Vito put his hands
on his hips and tried to decide if the place showed any potential
as a base for his schemes.

“There is plenty of room for everybody,”
Miguel declared hopefully.

“That’s one good thing. Come now, Brother, we
must fetch the others and have them clean the place up,” Vito
said.

******

The monks that Vito had recruited complained
not at all about their accommodations. They understood that they
must focus on their spirits instead of physical comforts, but the
sellswords were much less enthused. After crossing a lively city
burgeoning with a variety of entertainments and stylish homes, they
had been hoping for something better.

Vito ignored their grumbling.

He claimed two private rooms at the end of
the building that had not been a den of cats. That night on a bed
of fresh straw he stared at candlelight flickering on the ceiling.
He was excited to finally be in Prague, closer to the front lines
of heresy. He whispered prayers thanking God for his safe arrival.
At some point he fell asleep, but a creaking old door and footsteps
on the upper story woke him.

Glancing at the blue moonlight glowing
through the little window, Vito guessed that Rainer was up.
Although babysitting the troubled man was often tiresome, he could
not neglect that duty.

His exhausted Brothers were all sleeping, and
Vito crept by them toward the attic ladder. In the attic the gaping
remnants of a rotting dormer window led to a broad stone ledge.
Poking his head outside, Vito saw Rainer standing on the edge. The
light from the fattening gibbous moon was entrancingly colorless
upon his light hair, but his troubled face harbored shadowed eyes.
The breeze toyed with the edges of Rainer’s ragged robe. The prayer
beads dangling from the man’s fingers trembled in his shaking grip.
Rainer’s furtive prayers whispered of miserable longing.

“Rainer,” Vito said and stepped out on the
ledge.

The monk snapped out of his prayers. When he
looked at his leader, a bestial gleam sparked inside his eyes. This
sign of Rainer’s power excited Vito.

“Brother Vito, I cannot stay in this place,”
Rainer said urgently.

Vito looked around. Distant watch fires
dotted the castle walls on the ridge overlooking the city.
Moonlight reflected off the waters of the Vltava, pierced and poked
by docks and bridges. Lanterns and torches winked in and out of
sight among the narrow streets. Dreamy sprays of clouds sculpted
like wind-blown snow surrounded the moon.

He sat on the ledge. Taking in the view, he
invited Rainer to sit. Reluctantly the monk joined him.

Shutting his eyes, he said, “Please take me
back into the country. I should’ve never agreed to come to
Prague.”

“But here we can root out the most heretics.
Only through good deeds can you redeem your soul,” Vito said.

Rainer sighed and gripped his beads. “But
when the moon is full, the beast will take me. There’s too many
people here. I’ll hurt someone,” he said. The excruciating guilt of
past deeds tightened his aching chest.

Since meeting Rainer in Austria when he had
enticed the bewitched man into his service with the promise of
salvation, Vito had made sure to be between towns during a full
moon. Then Rainer had run loose in the night and come back in the
morning. Now the problem of concealing Rainer’s werewolf power in
an urban setting confronted Vito. He must not lose his precious
servant just when he could exploit him the most.

Finally he said, “Rainer, we will secure you
in the cellar.”

Rainer clasped his face. The thought of being
an animal was made worse by the prospect of being a caged
animal.

“Do you think that will work?” he asked.

“Of course it will. I promised I would help
you get past your troubles and do God’s work,” Vito said.

Rainer rubbed his face and kissed the little
cross on his beads. “I’m not sure I can do this here. I thought I
could. I want to, but what if I break loose?” he worried.

“I won’t let it happen,” Vito said
firmly.

Rainer slumped. “Why did this happen to me?
My sins have been venal. I always tried to be good,” he
whispered.

“You’re a victim of evil magic. You did not
deserve this. I see what a good and pious man you are. That’s why
I’m trying to help you. Maybe if you do enough service in the cause
of Christ and Church, our prayers will be answered and you will be
released from this wicked magic. Also…” Vito paused and leaned
closer. He set a brotherly hand on Rainer’s back and continued, “As
we defeat the Devil-worshippers we shall learn of their secrets.
Perhaps we’ll learn a way to undo what was done to you. Just today
I learned the name of a scholar here in Prague whose expertise is
witchcraft. I will go to him. Mayhap he knows of something that can
help.”

Rainer perked up. He was so grateful for
Vito’s compassion. “Do you think he will have such knowledge?” he
asked eagerly.

“I don’t know, but I will never stop seeking
your redemption. But you must also never stop working toward it. By
defending the Church and saving the souls of Her children you can
earn God’s intervention with the Devil,” Vito said.

“I’ll do anything I can,” Rainer said
earnestly.

“I know you will,” Vito said. “Now go to your
rest. I order it.”

******

Vito brushed some dirt from his sleeve and
untwisted the crucifix chain on his chest. He had dispatched his
monks to wander the city in pairs to preach and hopefully attract
pupils to the academy. Miguel had gone first thing in the morning
to find Professor Zussek and had rushed back to announce they had
an open invitation. Charles University was close to the
Clementinum, and Vito saw no reason to delay. Getting to know
influential men around Prague was a priority.

With a book bag over his shoulder, Miguel
tapped on Vito’s door. “Are you ready?” he asked.

“Yes.”

As they crossed the monastery complex, they
met new brothers. Vito took note of their names and was invigorated
to be among so many with a shared purpose.

Leaving the Clementinum they entered the
secular world of citizens on the streets. Strolling groups of young
men were common near Charles University. Some were begging on the
busier intersections. Others sat in groups, talking and sharing
books. A row of booksellers had their doors open to the warm day.
The stacks of books visible inside beckoned Miguel. His steps
strayed toward a shop door.

“Later,” Vito said, and Miguel corrected his
course.

At the campus, a smattering of professors in
their dark and voluminous robes moved among the buildings, their
heads bent together in conversation. One man was giving an
impromptu lecture on the steps of a ponderous old stone building to
a half dozen men.

“If only the whole world could be like this
place,” Miguel said.

“Not everyone has the wit to learn of higher
things,” Vito said cynically.

He scanned the area with a purpose beyond
stimulating the mind. This seemed a ripe venue for recruiting.
Literate young men looking for a chance to lead influential lives
would make for useful brothers. The Jesuit Society would gain more
from them than the half literate landless sons he had managed to
ensnare to his program so far.