Free Werelord Thal: A Renaissance Werewolf Tale by Tracy Falbe

Jan Bradcek guard captain at the
castle,” Andreli introduced.
    “Pleased to meet you. I am Thal Lesky of
Prague.” Thal said.
    Jan raised an eyebrow. “Prague? What brings
you so far from home?” he asked.
    “A pilgrimage to Rome,” Thal said.
    Andreli twinkled with amusement. Thal
impressed him more each day.
    Jan chuckled and looked at his friend. “On a
pilgrimage by yourself?” he asked, finding the statement boldly
incredulous.
    “You may join me if you please,” Thal
said.
    “I don’t get paid enough to visit the holy
city,” Jan grumped.
    “I myself have only a small inheritance to
squander and thought I would see a bit of the world with it,” Thal
explained.
    Andreli loved it.
    “Well, I suppose you’ve seen a bit of Bohemia
at least,” Jan commented.
    Andreli cleared his throat so he could finish
the introductions. “And with our esteemed captain is Lucas
Gardenzy.”
    The two men nodded to each other.
    “Thal only just joined us. I thought you’d be
entertained to see a new face. I’m so glad you came back. I’d
feared you’d decided we were boring,” Andreli said.
    “A man’s face is not what I came to see,” Jan
said, but to Thal he added, “Not that I’m saying you’re not nice
looking.”
    Lucas chuckled like it was an inside
joke.
    Andreli called for music. A drummer and two
pipers emerged from the shadows. The three men from the village
cheered their arrival.
    Andreli spread a nice rug by his fire for the
captain and his companion, and everyone sat down, except the
uninvited serf lads. After a look from Jan, Lucas flipped open his
sack and drew out two crockery bottles.
    “A little birdie told me you’re thirsty,
Andreli,” Jan said.
    “Parched, truly,” the Gypsy lord agreed
readily. “But I’ll venture that the little birdie was flightless as
a farmer’s goose and sings at the monastery.”
    Jan unstoppered a bottle as a boy scurried
forth with cups. “Why that monk is so charitable toward you I can’t
imagine,” Jan said. He poured for everyone.
    Andreli raised his drink in sincere
appreciation. “I thank you Captain for your most kind delivery, and
let me remind you why you enjoy our hospitality,” Andreli said.
    One his cue the music changed tempo and three
dancing girls slinked out. Tambourines jingled in their hands.
Their arms and shoulders were bare. Bright cloth bound their torsos
and bright beads sewn into their bodices reflected the
firelight.
    Thal saw Medina. A loose wispy skirt
fluttered around her thighs and she swayed beautifully with the
music like a flag on a balmy breeze.
    She did not meet Thal’s intense gaze. She
focused on the guard captain. Her eyes flashed at him after every
spin. Her long wavy hair spun around her shoulders. She stayed
perfectly in step with her dancing partners, and they created a
fascinating female synergy.
    The men drank to Andreli’s toast. Thal looked
at his beer. It was foamy and smelled grainy. He drank and
reflected on the flavor.
    “What think you of our local brew, Lesky?”
Jan said.
    “Very good,” Thal said and drank some more.
As it dispersed through his stomach, he felt a little more relaxed.
Liking the feeling, he drank some more. The effect surprisingly
helped him not mind that Medina was not looking at him.
    The women circled close to the men around the
fire and then moved back. In and out they came and went as the men
emptied their cups and conquered the second bottle.
    Flushed from their opening act, the dancers
took a break. One of the musicians started singing a ballad, and
many in the camp gathered to listen.
    At Andreli’s fire, a few ribald jokes were
exchanged and the laughter was pleasant. Feeling the ice to be well
broken, Jan said, “Lesky, our friend Brother Ondrej said he met you
today.”
    Alarm scampered along Thal’s dulled nerves.
The monk might have blabbed all kinds of startling stories. Thal
resisted his urge to touch his fine fur.
    Jan continued, “He didn’t mention