Werelord Thal: A Renaissance Werewolf Tale by Tracy Falbe Page B

questions about it. His people
already talked of Thal ceaselessly and they would want to know what
had happened at the monastery.
    Andreli looked at the clear sky. “The moon
will be a little brighter tonight. We’ll have visitors,” he
said.
    “Visitors?” Thal said.
    “People from the village or even the castle
like to visit us, especially on nice nights. And the curious might
come to see you now. Ondrej will be wagging his tongue about you no
doubt,” the Gypsy said.
    “I can hide in the woods if it will help
you,” Thal offered.
    “No, no,” Andreli insisted. “I either take a
man in or I don’t. You don’t need to hide but don’t give anyone a
reason to think you’re bewitched.”
    “I won’t,” Thal promised. Although nervous
about causing his host a problem, he was excited to see more people
and learn why they visited the Gypsies when they seemed to not even
want them around.
     
     

Chapter 6. From the
Forest
    Thal kept busy when he returned to the Gypsy
camp. He helped Petro mend holes in a fish net and then gathered
firewood. While hauling back a load of dry driftwood from upriver,
he encountered the girl that served Emerald.
    White cloth wrapped her head and a patched up
smock hung around her body, but her graceful neck and shiny olive
skin revealed the lithe young girl within. Her glass beads caught
the sunshine filtered by the green leaves overhead. Their sparkle
matched the twinkle in her dark eyes.
    “Thal,” she said with a big smile.
    “Hello.”
    She shifted her load of sticks off her back
and plopped down on an old log to take a break.
    Thal stayed in place still holding his load
across his shoulders. He was uncertain of what the social situation
required of him, but he knew that he liked looking at the girl in
the privacy of the riverside trail.
    “I’m Medina,” she said.
    She grabbed a small canteen that hung over
her shoulder and took a drink.
    “Thirsty?” she asked.
    He nodded. He set his firewood down and wiped
the sweat from his brow. Medina handed her canteen to him. Thal
took a small drink because he did not want to empty her
canteen.
    “I could use one of these,” he commented and
returned it.
    “You aren’t a man of many possessions,” she
commented. “Except that nice fur. It’s so beautiful.”
    She petted the fur over his shoulder. Her
fingers moved through the lovely luxury of the dense coat. The
slight pressure of her fingers made him hold his breath.
    “Is it really wolf?” she asked.
    “Yes.”
    “Did you kill it yourself?” she said.
    “I don’t think so.”
    “You can’t remember,” she said.
    “I remember more every day,” he said but had
little wish to talk about himself. “I notice Emerald keeps you
busy.”
    Medina laughed. “No one would know what to do
without Emerald to tell them. She takes good care of me.”
    “Is she your mother?” he asked.
    “The most mother I’ve ever known. She says
she found me on the side of the road, but I don’t know if that’s
true,” Medina explained.
    “It seems Gypsies find lots of people,” Thal
said.
    “We’re not so quick to judge as village
folk,” she said.
    “I’m grateful for the help. You don’t have to
fetch things for me anymore, even if Emerald asks. I can see to
myself now,” he said.
    “I don’t mind,” Medina said.
    Thal believed her.
    She kicked off her shoes. Daintily she
trotted to the riverbank. Holding up her smock and skirt, she waded
into the water.
    “That cools me off,” she declared. “This is
the first truly warm day. Maybe it’ll be a hot summer.”
    She gathered up her skirt into one hand. Her
knees and bare thighs above the flowing water entranced Thal. She
bent over and washed her face with one hand and then flicked water
up at him. The drops hit the trail by his feet.
    “Come in. You wouldn’t be so warm if you
didn’t keep that fur on,” she said.
    Thal had not really thought about that. He
draped the fur over the firewood and came down the