Read Online Werelord Thal: A Renaissance Werewolf Tale by Tracy Falbe - Free Book Online Page A

naked across a cold
slab of stone. The moonlight twisted down the trees like frosted
lightning. He had been given something to drink. Some nasty potion
of his father’s brewing, but he had taken it willingly. Thal’s
father lifted the fur over him on the secret altar. The fresh blood
ink still glistened. His father’s chanting became more strident
until he was only howling. Then the howls of many wolves erupted.
The fluffy beasts filled the spaces between the trees. Their
shining eyes encircled the altar like a swarm of fireflies.
    A raven screeched and Thal gasped. His
awareness returned to the sunny spot beside the Gypsy camp. The
raven cawed again and hopped around the bare weathered branches of
the dead tree.
    Thal touched his chest. His heart was
hammering. The memories had been terrifying.
    “Thank you friend raven,” he said to the
bird, grateful that it had snapped him out of the intense
flashback.
    It cawed modestly and flapped down to the
ground near his feet.
    “I’ve nothing for you,” Thal said.
    The bird’s piercing black eyes regarded him
seriously.
    Thal gestured to the lettering on the wolf
skin. “What do you think? Should I rid myself of this like the man
of God suggested?” he said.
    The bird stayed silent.
    Thal ran a hand over the fur. He was certain
now that it was crucial to transforming him into a wolf. It was the
only explanation for why it had been at his side after he had
returned to his man-form. But why had his father changed him? HOW
had his father changed him? Did Thal want to change back? That
question was at the heart of the matter. He was growing to like his
new body. He especially liked his hands. Being around people
excited him. There was so much to learn and do. He had mastered
life in the forest and perhaps it was time that he did new
things.
    “But I’m not just a man am I?” he said.
    The raven cackled and flew back into the
tree.
    Thal went back to studying the words his
father had written. He still could not recall where his father had
lived, but he distinctly remembered living with his mother near
Prague. Thal resolved to ask Andreli how to get there. He must go
look for her. She might have answers.
    “Thal? Thal?”
    Andreli was calling him. Thal liked being
wanted. He waved to the raven and left his hiding spot.
    Andreli spotted him when he emerged into the
worn ground of the camp.
    “There you are. I have a question for you. Do
you know anything of playing cards?” he said.
    Thal’s blank look did not surprise him.
“Worry not. We’ll teach you primero,” he said and gestured for Thal
to follow. They settled on a thick rug with exotic patterns with
Petro and another man named Sal.
    Andreli said, “I’ve got an important way for
you to help us.”
    “Good,” Thal said. He watched Sal slide a
stack of rigid decorated papers out of a cloth sack.
    Andreli continued, “The roads will be busier
with the warmer weather. Once the moon starts filling up we can
expect more visitors at night. We’ll teach you to play primero
because sometimes we need an extra man to get a game going. And
well, to be honest, some of the local fellows are getting wary of
playing with us, but a new face will get them playing again because
that’s what they really want to do anyway.”
    “But you asked me to stay out of the way,”
Thal reminded.
    Andreli shrugged, dismissing his cautious
attitude. “Where’s the profit in that? All hands on deck to lift
the sails as a Venetian sailor would say, right?”
    “As you wish,” Thal said.
    Sal spread all the cards out face up on the
rug and explained them. Thal scanned the pictures stenciled in
bright colors. He easily memorized the look of the kings, queens,
jacks, and aces. The others were simply numbers two through seven.
He understood the symbols for the suits readily, but once Sal dealt
out the cards and they played a hand, the game became quite
mystifying. Andreli shared Thal’s hand and explained to him what to
do. He placed