by Elena May
“Roxana gasped, and my grip around the torch tightened. There she was, far ahead, under a high oak, dressed all in white. My mysterious forest spirit. My samodiva.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
Responsibility
“‘My love,’ Roxana whispered. ‘It’s her. The Greek noblewoman I told you about. She was the one who asked about our family.’
“‘I did indeed,’ the creature said, and I shuddered. There was no way a human could have heard Roxana’s whisper at this distance.
“I moved to stand in front of Roxana. ‘Are you a samodiva?’
“She laughed, her voice clear as a bell. ‘A samodiva? Not at all, although I do know them. Or at least I know the women who gave rise to the legend. It is my sire who made them, so in a way we are sisters.’
“Her words made no sense to me, but I felt a strange terror burning in my heart. ‘Who are you?’
“She approached me, moving so fast that she seemed to glide over the forest floor, until she stood before me. ‘I am one who wishes you well. And I have come to warn you: stay out of this. Christianity is coming to your lands, as it came to mine and many others, and you cannot stop it. You will only die trying.’
“I shuddered but held her gaze. Was she of this world? She looked like a woman like any other—only heartrendingly beautiful. But what was she doing alone in the woods?
“‘You don’t know what you are talking about,’ I said.
“She smiled sadly. ‘Oh, but I do. I’ve seen it before—this religion, spreading like wildfire, consuming all in its wake.’
“‘Like a plague,’ I said.
“She laughed. ‘Plague is not the word I would have used. Surely, you see Christianity has done much good. It has brought peace and taught people to love one another. It teaches humans to be good.’
“‘You cannot teach a person to love another,’ I said. ‘Love comes from within, or it doesn’t. And religion cannot make people good or bad. People are good or bad. Religion only gives those who are bad an excuse to commit atrocities in the name of their faith.’
“‘But it also gives those who are good a means to do better,’ she said. ‘Churches help the poor and everyone else in need.’
“I looked at this strange woman, whose arguments were more convincing than the Khan’s had ever been. She was right—the Church could use its considerable power to do good. I had seen it in Byzantium, just as I had seen the other side of this coin.
“‘The Christian God doesn’t belong here,’ I said. ‘He belongs in the sands of Egypt and the stony deserts of the Promised Land, not in these lush, green woods and rocky mountains, reaching to the blue sky.’
“‘And Tangra belongs here?’ she asked. ‘He came from the vast open grasslands in Asia. Your people brought him to Europe merely two centuries ago.’
“‘It is different,’ I said. ‘We brought our faith with us as we came here. We never imposed it on anyone. We would have welcomed Christians to our lands. We would have welcomed our people converting to Christianity if they wished so. But to take it as a state religion and force everyone to convert? This terrifies me.’
“‘Faith scares you, then?’
“Why was she interrogating me? I looked back to Roxana, who nodded at me. This woman was the sign she had seen in the flames, and whether we liked it or not, she had a message for us.
“‘Organized faith scares me,’ I admitted. ‘The power to manipulate people, to send them to wars that are not theirs to fight.’
“‘And yet, it gives some people solace and meaning,’ the strange woman said. ‘Who are we to judge? This is the future of this world. You cannot stand in the way of change. You must adapt or perish.’
“‘But who are you, truly?’ Roxana asked. ‘When I first saw you, I thought you were Greek, but now I’m not so certain.’
“‘I am Greek, in a way,’ she said. ‘Though perhaps not in the way you imagine.’
“‘You seem to know all about us,’ Roxana said, ‘and we know nothing about you. What is your name?’
“The stranger smiled and turned to the side, her white skirts flowing in the night. ‘Callisto.’
“I frowned. ‘You claim to be Greek, but this is no Christian name.’
“She laughed. ‘I am no Christian.’
“‘What gods do you worship, then?’ I asked.
“Her dark eyes sparkled under the torchlight, and a grin bloomed on her lips. ‘I worship no one but myself.’ She stepped in front of me and put her palm on my chest. ‘Though I would worship you too, if you would allow me.’
“Roxana laughed. ‘Fair lady, surely, you know you are speaking to a married man.’
“Callisto winked at her. ‘You misunderstand me, dear. I have no desire to steal your glorious husband from you. I would have worshipped you both, but, sadly for me, this is not to be your fate.’”
Myra cleared her throat. “Vlad… did she actually say ‘your glorious husband’? Or are you embellishing this story?”
The Prince gave her an innocent look. “Myra, you are well aware that I am a vampire and can no longer create fiction. I can merely recount the objective facts.”
“You might be unable to create fiction from scratch,” Myra said, “But I’ve seen you play with stories pretty well.”
“She mentioned your fate,” Sissi said. “Could she see the future?”
“That was not what she meant,” the Prince said. “Callisto had considered making both Roxana and me her companions, and she had approached my wife to learn more about our lives and determine whether we were meant to be vampires. Of course, she didn’t say it back then, but I could put it all together later on.”
Sissi gasped. “And she thought you were unfit to be a vampire?”
The Prince smiled. “I really was, at the time. I was happy as a man. I had wonderful children, and I loved my family. To be fit to become a vampire, you must first be truly detached from the human world. Most vampires become so by unfortunate circumstances. A rare few, like Tristan, are truly born for it, but I never was. If you turn a vampire at the wrong time, things can go terribly wrong. This was what happened to Ila.”
“During the Nightfall you turned many, without giving it much thought,” said Myra. “I guess the new vampires had all recently lost all their loved ones, but that was because you and your people had just killed them.”
He sighed. “And this is why Ila has so many followers now. But this is good for us—they will fight on our side.”
“So, you listened to Callisto?” Sissi asked.
The Prince fell quiet. He stared at the fire, as if looking beyond it, seeing entire worlds inside the hungry flames. The light played on his face, orange and golden, as snowflakes fell softly on his hair and cloak in a slow, forlorn dance. Pure darkness stretched behind him, thick and heavy.
“I wish I had,” he said at last. “After all, Roxana saw it in the flames that we would get a sign that night, but I ignored it. Callisto’s warning frightened me, but Roxana’s visions frightened me more. Our people, turned Christian and suffering as a result. But, most of all, I was terrified of this monster who would destroy the world. The monster who had horrified Roxana beyond imagination. I couldn’t let fate run its course. I had to fight it.
“And so, when I returned home, my first task was to speak to Terimer. I told him of Roxana’s visions, and he was glad that I wished to fight—he believed Vladimir-Rasate’s plan to wait was folly. He himself had been busy recruiting allies and told me he had found fifty more boílas who would join our cause. We decided to keep the Khan’s son out of this. If worse came to worst and we were defeated and executed, he would be our only chance of one day restoring our faith.
“My mother disagreed. Even after I told her what the Khan meant to do, she insisted I should seek peace. No good would come out of a civil war, she said. Boris was a great khan, a khan of Krum’s dynasty, and I had to follow his lead. I had a family to care for. She begged me to reconsider, but there was on
ly one person in the world who could change my mind.
“‘I need to speak to Father,’ I told her.
“Her face grew sad as she gazed at me. ‘My son, why torture yourself? He can give you no advice.’
“‘I have to,’ I insisted. Was I trying to avoid responsibility? Was I trying to make him choose instead of me? But, in spite of it all, he was still one of the great boílas, and this was his choice as much as it was mine.
“My mother nodded and stepped aside, so I could walk to my father’s bedroom. I opened the door and stepped inside.
“The air was stuffy with a heavy smell. My father lay in the bed. In his hands was a wooden toy horse Asmara had once played with. Its once-smooth surface was now rough and ragged, and covered by teeth marks, as if a small child had chewed on it. Only, instead of a child, it had been chewed on by an old man.
“He didn’t look at me. ‘Father,’ I said. ‘I’ve come to seek your advice.’
“‘Ah, Elmir,’ he said. I froze. Elmir was my brother’s name. My brother who had died of fever at the age of thirteen. ‘You’ve returned. Did you help your mother?’
“‘Father, do you know me?’ I asked.
“‘Your mother and Savera have roasted a lamb for the spring equinox,’ he said. Savera was my sister, who had died giving birth to her second son. ‘Can you smell it? A wondrous feast awaits us.’
“The mention of Savera awoke another wound inside my heart—her husband had refused to join our rebellion, worried about his children’s well-being in case they lost the only parent they had left. He had promised not to betray our secret, but this did little to soothe my disappointment. But right now, I had a more pressing concern.
“I stepped closer to my father’s bed and took the wooden horse out of his grip. His hand, which had once been so much stronger than mine, could offer no resistance. ‘Father, I need you. The Khan wants to accept Christianity from Byzantium. I cannot allow it to happen. I need your advice.’ I knelt by his bed. ‘Please. I know you are in there somewhere.’
“‘It’s chilly here,’ he said. ‘Hasn’t Savera finished knitting that woolen sweater?’
“I was suffocating. I stood up and ran out of the room, closing the door behind me. I slid down to the floor, heaving for breath, trying to get some air to pass around the lump in my throat. I felt the taste of tears but swallowed them down before they had surfaced. My mother was right—my father could give me no advice. The decision was mine alone, and so was the responsibility.”
“It was with great difficulty that I convinced Roxana to stay out of this, but if the rebellion ended badly, someone needed to take care of the children. I was on my way to meet Terimer and the other boílas to coordinate our troops when someone barred my way in the corridor.
“Erniké stood in front of me, dressed in riding clothes made of boiled leather. Her hair fell down her back in two neat braids, and this time, miraculously, no strand escaped. A bow and a quiver were strapped to her back, and a blue stone necklace, for protection from the Evil Eye, hung around her neck.
“‘Father,’ she said, her eyes wide and her voice shaking, ‘you should have told me. How is it possible? The Khan wants to accept Christianity? And from Byzantium?’
“I froze. ‘How do you know this?’
“A small smile appeared on her lips. ‘I have my ways. Does that scare you?’
“I smiled back. ‘Not at all. It makes me proud. But I thought you would welcome this.’
“Her eyes widened. ‘Have you lost your mind?’
“I laughed. ‘Is that any way to speak to your father? The Christian God teaches you to respect your parents.’
“‘Good thing I’m not Christian, then,’ she said. ‘But this is madness. We will betray who we are, and we will become Byzantium’s dogs.’
“‘I thought you wished us to become as great as Byzantium,’ I said.
“‘Father, we may not be the same as Byzantium, but we are already great. Giving up who we are won’t make us greater. I cannot accept Christianity. It is not what I believe in, and the Khan cannot force me. I know you are rebelling, and I’ll join you.’
“All blood drained from my face. ‘What?’
“Her eyes were bright and her voice excited. ‘I can fight. Let me fight beside you.’
“‘Erniké, you have no idea what you are talking about. You are a child. We are facing the Khan’s army. Trained soldiers. Grown men, much stronger than you and twice your size.’
“‘I’m good with the bow,’ she said. ‘When your aim is true, it doesn’t matter how big and strong you are.’ Her speech was becoming faster and more excited. ‘Remember the stories you told me, of our people crossing the Great Steppe of Asia and coming here to face the formidable Byzantine army? And remember what you said, about the Byzantine soldiers, petrified in horror to see our women fight alongside the men? They dropped their weapons to make the sign of the cross, but the women warriors showed them no mercy and cut them down.’
“‘But you are no woman, are you?’ I said, my voice harsh. ‘You are a little girl, and you are acting like one. You say your aim is true? You’ve killed rabbits in the woods. Can you face a man and shoot him to death?’
“‘Yes,’ she said, her face unflinching.
“‘If you say this, you are either a monster or a fool.’
“Her eyes filled with tears. ‘Why don’t you trust me? Why won’t you give me a chance to prove myself?’
“‘You are being irresponsible,’ I said. ‘You are my firstborn and my heir. Who will take care of our family if I do not return?’
“She gasped, and the tears slid down her face. Her eyes widened. ‘But you will return? Right?’
“My heart broke. She was a child. I had said it to make her hesitate, but it was the truth. It had never occurred to her that I could die in this fight, or that she could die too if she joined me. She was seeking a game, an adventure, and I wished with all my heart I could give it to her. I wished that I could keep her a child forever, but it was not to be.
“I knelt in front of her and took her hands in mine. ‘Erniké, I need you to be a woman, and no longer a little girl. I need you to protect this home and to take care of your mother and sister, of your grandparents, of our servants. Can you do that for me?’
“The tears were flowing freely down her face now. ‘I will,’ she said. ‘While you are gone. But you must return, you must promise me that.’
“‘I promise,’ I said.
“I stood up, and she wrapped her arms around me. ‘And, Father,’ she sobbed, her face buried in my chest, ‘I still want to become a priestess of Tangra.’”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Last Heartbeat
“The rebellion ended quickly. We never stood a chance against the Khan’s troops. I watched all my men and all my allies fall, and I nearly died with them. I still remember lying wounded on the battlefield, among all the corpses. Perhaps I could have stood up then and fought until my last breath, but I had made a promise to Erniké to come back. And so, I lay down, pretending to be dead and waiting for the battlefield to quiet down.
“Once the Khan’s troops left, I made my way to the woods and bandaged my wounds with patches I tore off my clothes. I was a fugitive now, an enemy of the state. I couldn’t immediately return home and draw the enemy to my family. I had to lie low until things quieted down. Perhaps the Khan would one day pardon me. If not, I would have to live in hiding. Perhaps my family and I could leave these lands and look for a home elsewhere. After all, this new Christian state would no longer be my home.
“I found a small river in the woods and drank the cool water. I had no food except for berries—I had no strength to hunt, and I feared lighting a fire to cook the meat. I needed to find shelter if I wished to recover from my wounds.
“A thought occurred to me—Sinion, my late sister Savera’s husband, could give me shelter. His refusal to join our rebellion had angered me, but now it turned out to be a blessing. He had
remained loyal to the Khan, so he would be out of suspicion and his house would provide a safe hiding place.
“I made my way back to Pliska, taking the small, hidden paths once I entered the city. The streets were busy, soldiers patrolling up and down. A terrible cry sounded from one of the houses. Had the troops caught a fugitive from the battle?
“The sun was going down, and the light was growing dimmer, and so I stayed out of sight until I reached my brother-in-law’s large house. The front gate was ajar, and, silently, I made my way inside.
“My throat twisted in a silent scream, and I fell to my hands and knees, landing in a pond of blood.
“Sinion’s servants—men, women, and children—lay on the stone floor, their clothes soaked in blood, their eyes open and unseeing. Dead, every single one.
“A choke threatened to escape my lips, and I pressed a hand against my mouth. There, close to the wall, I had spotted Savera’s two sons, my nephews, both dead. And not far from them lay their father, with a terrible gaping wound in his heart.
“I choked, unable to draw breath. Anger and grief warred inside me. Who would do such a thing? And how could this have happened in the middle of the day, with no soldier coming to aid the victims? Unless…
“No. There was no way the army itself had done this. Sinion had been loyal to the Khan. He had stayed out of the rebellion. But if not the army, who could commit a murder so massive, so ghastly?
“An ugly scream tore me out of my thoughts, and at first I thought someone else had stumbled into the house to see the blood-chilling sight. But the scream was coming from far away, and was soon joined by another. The entire city was crying, drowning in terror and pain.
“Horror gripped my heart. I had to go back home. I had to find my family and take them away.