Werelord Thal: A Renaissance Werewolf Tale

Chapter 14. The Castle of Lord Patercek

By morning flies were gathering in the pine grove, and everyone was eager to be off. Thal found his spent lead ball in the dirt and salvaged it. He rolled the sticky hunk of metal in his fingers and contemplated how he had delivered death with it. He felt no remorse about slaying the nasty human refuse that had come to kill in the night. They surely had darker deeds than he upon their souls. He doubted anyone would charge him with murder for this, if the bodies were ever found.

He tugged his cloak across his chest to hide the blood soaking his shirt. Vultures wheeled in the sky behind them as Thal led them straight north. They crossed a clear stream and quenched their thirst. Regis washed his hair, appalled by the cruor stuck to his golden locks.

Plucked berries and greens eased their hunger. Despite the horridness of the men that had assaulted them, the wild area was lovely and lush. The rugged land with its outcroppings of granite made traveling hard work, but the cloudy day kept the air cool.

The musicians were noticeably quiet as they followed Thal mile after mile. Normally the men grumbled good naturedly about slight hardships, but not today. The performance of their bodyguard the night before weighed on their minds. Thal felt their eyes upon his back. Despite his pain and mounting fatigue, he kept his head up and broke a trail. He did not want to fail those who relied on him.

Upon reaching an especially tough-looking incline, Thal paused to study the rocky tree-studded slope so he could judge the best way to ascend. The other men were puffing closer with their loads. Regis reached him first. He scanned the rugged slope with dramatic dislike.

"We must rest," he declared.

"I want to keep going," Thal said.

"We're taking a break," Regis insisted. He set down his harp case and flopped onto his butt. Carlo and Raphael plodded up and joined their friend on the ground.

Thal frowned at their little rebellion, but taking a break before a tough climb was prudent. He worried mostly about himself. When a wounded animal finally stopped, it did not always get up.

Staying apart from his companions to lessen their chance of seeing his blood, he sat down too. As he expected, his body wanted to collapse, but he rigidly commanded himself to persevere.

Pistol whined quietly and nudged his legs. "I know. Don't worry," he whispered.

The break gave him a chance to examine the incline more carefully, and when they resumed their hike, he had a good plan. In a criss-crossing fashion, he made a trail that was not too strenuous. Regis even commented that the going was not as bad as he had imagined, and Thal smiled at the compliment.

When they were almost to the top, Thal looked back. A wondrous view surrounded the little wilderness he had dragged his party into. Rolling hills and forests nurtured the glistening serpent of the distant Vltava.

Gesturing across the green horizon, Thal said, "Was this not worth the walk?"

"Inspirado," Regis muttered.

Carlo made some joke in his language and the three men chuckled.

Even without their enthusiasm, Thal still appreciated the natural beauty that had made him forget his discomfort for a moment. For a long time his thoughts had existed only on this plane of Earthly contentment.

"Let's go," he said.

The ridge was steepest at the top and they had to grab jutting rocks and roots to haul themselves over the edge. The musicians groaned when they finally crested the ridge because another higher wrinkle in the land confronted them.