Werelord Thal: A Renaissance Werewolf Tale (67 page)

“He thinks it would be more dangerous to us
if he were with us,” Regis said quietly.

“Enough!” Valentino barked. “I don’t know how
such a magnificent creature puts up with you babies. Have you no
thought for his plight? He hides in the woods with an injured
woman.”

He waved a hand at Mileko and was happy to
actually startle him. “You! Take these musicians with you to
Thal.”

“No,” Mileko protested. His eyes darted among
the agitated men. Their emotions were stirred, and Mileko beheld
one of the situations his Master had warned him would be difficult.
To divert the mind of those not really paying attention was far
easier than influencing an upset group.

“I can’t have these men,” Mileko continued
while moving his hands into the inner pockets of his cloak.

Valentino grabbed him by the shoulders. He
grinned in Mileko’s face, knowing that he had thrown the sly one
off his game. “You must take them, and I know where you will take
them. There is a hunting cabin I know of. It is sometimes handy to
have a place where someone can disappear. Thal can take that girl
there to recuperate.” Gesturing broadly to the musicians, he added,
“You will go there too and Thal can take care of you himself.”

The three Venetians agreed readily and
thanked the Condottiere. Mileko rigidly endured the proposal and
resigned himself to the delay and the addition of three more
fugitives.

******

One comb had been among the handful of items
Thal had grabbed from Altea’s room, and he was combing her hair.
Her thumbs made the task impossible for her.

Patiently he combed out the snarls with
gentle tugs. Altea appreciated his kindness and his closeness. His
fingers working through her hair were soothing.

“I’m afraid to know what I look like,” she
said.

“You’re beautiful,” he said.

“I’ve lost chunks of hair. I must look
shocking,” she said.

“It will grow back. It’s not so noticeable,”
he said and moved some hair over a blank spot.

After all the snarls were out, he was able to
comb the hair through its whole length, which reached to the middle
of her back. He admired its soft luster and arranged it around her
shoulders. His hands massaged her shoulders and from there very
lightly moved down onto the cushiony swell of her bosom. She leaned
into him, and he put his chin on her shoulder and kissed her neck
and cheek. He wanted to embrace her fiercely and roll around and do
anything that his mind could imagine, but he dared not. She could
bear only the lightest touching.

Altea relaxed against his chest. She
remembered when his arms had been covered with fur and had thick
claws instead of fingers. She still had trouble reconciling what
she had seen with the loving man who was taking care of her. His
savage rage that she had witnessed in the torture chamber could
have undone even Hercules. But that beast had Thal’s heart, and she
told herself to never fear him. The werewolf was his special power.
It would always make him reviled of society and now she was outcast
too. She had dared to step into his world and learned she could
never come back. But after seeing her world for what it truly was,
she considered that the loss was not so tragic.

“I still can’t believe I’m here,” she
said.

“You’re in shock. Don’t try to think about it
too much yet,” Thal advised.

Altea decided to take his advice so she asked
him how he became a werewolf.

“My memories are few. I know that my father
did something to me to make me a wolf. But I was not just an
animal. I was undying. I lived and lived. I’m older than I look. I
can see the difference in Prague. There are many more buildings
than when I was a youth. And you said my mother was old. I don’t
remember her that way,” he said.

“Her hair was all white when I knew her,”
Altea said.

“I think when the witch hunters came for her
she cast a great spell. It made me change from a wolf to a man. I
was in the forest with only this fur with my father’s writing upon
it,” he said.

It was spread across Altea’s lap. She feared
to meet his sorcerer father who had made the weird blood writing,
but she supposed they had no choice but to go to him.

“Thal, if your mother had such great magic
why did she not kill the men who killed her?” Altea wondered.

“I don’t think she could use her magic to
directly cause harm. I was her instrument. I killed them,” he
said.

Altea remembered the kindly care Gretchen had
given to others. It was hard to imagine her hurting anyone.

“Why couldn’t she use her magic to save my
mother?” Altea said.

“I’m sure she tried,” Thal said.

“When my mother got very bad she asked
Gretchen for something to kill her,” Altea said tearfully. She had
never spoken the words aloud before. “How could your mother do
that? Is that not hurting someone?”

“She must’ve seen it as a mercy,” Thal
offered.

“It was,” Altea whispered.

“Altea, magic is powerful, but I don’t think
it can hold back death forever. Even I shall age and die,” he
said.

“You know that?”

“I believe it,” he said. “At least I hope to
get the chance to age. I seem to live dangerously.”

Altea laughed and was surprised that she
could, but it made her ribs hurt.

He tensed behind her. “Riders,” he said.

“How many?” she asked as he carefully moved
her aside and propped her on the cart.

“Not many. It should be Mileko but he’s not
alone,” Thal said. He rushed off to his lookout. Pistol trotted at
his heels.

From his vantage point he spotted two riders
coming across a meadow.

“Valentino,” Thal said, very surprised, and
he rushed down the hill and out of the trees. He stopped and waved
before he got too close and annoyed their horses.

The men dismounted and Valentino rushed up to
Thal. They embraced. Mileko hung back to let them talk.

Valentino stuck a finger on the ball embedded
in Thal’s armor. “Ho! You got lucky. Don’t expect that to work
every time,” Valentino said.

“I’m planning to avoid battles from now on,”
Thal said.

Valentino’s expression showed his dubious
opinion about Thal succeeding with that. “Watch your back. You’ve
got a royal reward on you now. The ink is still drying but the
reward is 200 florins. Congratulations,” he said.

“So you’ve come to take me prisoner?” Thal
said.

“I know safer ways to risk my life making 200
florins,” Valentino said. “No, I’ve come to help, as usual. I hear
your lady is in a poor way. I have a cabin you can hide in. I’ve
already sent your musicians there. I’m remanding them to your
care.”

Thal was shocked by the generous gift of
shelter. “You are a true friend,” he said.

The Condottiere laughed. Thal was so
sentimental. “It’s my habit to befriend powerful people,” he
said.

Mileko cut in. “We don’t have much daylight
left and far to go this night,” he said.

Thal led them to camp. The arrival of another
man made Altea nervous. Armor and weapons on a stranger spiked her
trauma and she cringed a little until Thal kneeled beside her.

“Please meet Altea,” he said proudly as if
she were not a battered escaped witch in bandages.

Valentino removed a pack from his saddle
bags. He took a knee close to her and flashed Thal an approving
look. Valentino meant to kiss her hand, mostly to annoy Thal with
jealousy, but then he saw her thumbs. Concern furrowed his brow
because he recognized what had been done to her. The brown blood
all over her torn clothes and the extensive bruising upset him. The
poor girl could not have deserved it.

“Lady Carmelita has sent you clothing,” he
said and set down the bundle.

She was speechless. Her tears welled up with
gratitude.

“Can you stand?” Valentino asked.

“I think so,” she whispered.

“Good. You’ll ride with me,” he said.

“Where?” Altea asked and looked to Thal, who
told her about the cabin.

“You’re so kind,” she said, amazed.

Valentino smiled. “I’m often not kind, but
I’m no butcher of women,” he said.

Valentino and Mileko withdrew to water their
horses while Thal helped Altea dress. From beside the stream,
Valentino overheard her cry out in pain several times while she
moved. Sympathy lurched in his chest.

“The world is sick,” he remarked to
Mileko.

“A man of war would know that well,” Mileko
said.

“And does your sneaking and tricking have any
purpose?” Valentino asked.

“I seek knowledge,” Mileko said with a
prickly tone.

“So you can control others, right?” the
Condottiere said.

Mileko looked away. “I’m no crude warmonger
like you,” he said.

With a grin Valentino abandoned the
conversation. He considered himself rather artful with his crude
butchery but he saw no need to argue the fine point with Thal’s
weird new companion.

“I assume you know that if you do wrong by
Thal, he’ll rip you apart and feed you to dogs,” Valentino
said.

“I have no ill intentions toward him,” Mileko
said. He got on his horse to signal his impatience.

Valentino returned to camp. Thal had Altea on
her feet and she looked pleased with the accomplishment. A fresh
set of clothing had done much to renew her appearance. Valentino
suggested that Thal get her into the cart, so she could use it to
get on his horse. After Thal got her up on the cart, he hung back
while Valentino brought his horse alongside.

“Lean across the saddle and I’ll help you get
a leg over,” he instructed softly. He knew his good horse would
keep still for her. He grabbed her hips and boosted her on the
horse. She swayed and clung pitifully to the edge of the saddle
with her elbows and thighs. Valentino got on behind her.

“Lean against me,” he said and she did.

He put an arm around her for support. She
gasped and moaned but did not complain.

“Ready?” he said.

“Yes.” Her reply was a tiny gasp.

Valentino started riding. Altea shifted a few
times until she found the least painful position, but he could tell
that every swing of the horse’s frame wrenched on her.

Mileko and Thal followed. It was almost dark
by the time they came out on a road. Valentino led them north of
Prague on increasingly narrow paths. The nearly full moon
illuminated their travel and even when they entered a dark woods
they could still see the path.

A light up ahead revealed their destination.
Thal’s friends had put a candle in the window expecting his
nocturnal arrival. Regis, Raphael, and Carlo spilled out into the
night and greeted Thal happily. But they had to subdue themselves
upon seeing Altea. She groaned as Valentino got her off his horse
and then Thal carried her inside. A little bed made of split logs
with a mattress stuffed with leaves received her. She was grateful
to have it.

Thal stroked her hair. “Rest,” he whispered.
She shut her eyes and he went outside. Pistol gave the cabin a
thorough inspection and then jumped in the bed to curl up at
Altea’s feet. He licked her bare foot.

Thal’s friends plied him with many questions.
He explained that he was going to see his father once Altea was
well.

“We’ll travel with you. Just like old times,”
Regis said.

“It shan’t be Paris,” Thal warned.

“But there will be new songs,” Regis
said.

“Then let that suffice,” Thal said.

“It’s all we’ve ever had,” Regis said. “And
thank Heaven but it’s good to see you again and have no more talk
of goodbyes. We get attacked if you’re not with us.”

Raphael and Carlo agreed laughingly and Thal
considered that he must not live always as if driven from the
pack.

Valentino took Thal aside. “I must bid you
farewell,” he said.

“Stay till morning. You’re tired,” Thal
said.

“Breakfast will be better in Prague,”
Valentino said.

Thal put out his hand and Valentino took it.
“I must go to my father. Mileko says he has a castle in the Tatras
Mountains,” he said.

“Sounds promising,” Valentino said.

“I shall see,” Thal said warily. “I’m in your
debt for what you’ve done today.”

“I’ve learned that you’re a man who pays his
debts,” Valentino said.

“I am, and that’s why I wanted you to know
where I’m going. My father’s name is Sarputeen. If you should have
need of me, send word, my friend. I will come. You have my
promise,” Thal said and set his other hand upon their joined hands.
Valentino did the same.

“Until then may I suggest you work on your
planning skills. Wolves do a poor job of taking bullets into
account,” Valentino said and tapped the bullet in Thal’s armor.

“I will.”

“If I start a war I can’t finish, I’ll send
for you,” Valentino said.

“If that is what you need,” Thal said.

Valentino knew it was not an easy commitment
for Thal to make. Despite all the bodies that had bloodied the
streets of Prague, it had not been done for Thal’s pleasure or
profit.

Valentino handed him a bag with some extra
powder and shot. He rode off alone into the night, but Thal was not
worried about him.

Everyone was exhausted. Thal slid into the
bed with Altea and the others fell asleep on the floor. Their
presence made him feel very content as he fell asleep.

Altea’s days at the cabin were a blur of pain
and fitful sleep. Thal stayed at her side. When nightmares
inevitably came, he whispered soothing words into her ear and his
strong hands kept her from thrashing in half awake distress.

Her mind needed to recuperate as much as her
body, and Thal made her stay in bed except when she needed to
relieve herself. He washed her and fed her and changed her bandages
as necessary. Carlo helped him change the dressing on the thumbs
because he had a light touch and could stomach the task. When Altea
peeked at the ragged skin and muscle, vivid images from her torture
made her shake and cry.