Men and Monsters (Nightfall, Book 2)

by Elena May

  A hum seemed to rise from the lone tree, low and enticing. Its branches were pale like bone, not black like the rest of the trees. Myra took a step closer, her feet drawn forward as if by an invisible magnet.

  The raven rose in the sky, cawing, and a lithe figure jumped from the high branches, landing soundlessly right in front of Myra. She did not flinch and stared at Armida.

  “What are you doing here?”

  Armida smiled. “I wanted to bring you news.”

  Myra’s heart froze. “And?”

  The vampire stepped closer. “The Prince lives. He is recovering from his wound and will be well soon. Though he will need more time to come to terms with Tristan’s death.”

  A lump formed in Myra’s throat. “You’re lying. Tristan isn’t dead.”

  Armida’s face was calm. “For all intents and purposes, he is.”

  Myra looked away. She had no desire to talk to this monster, but perhaps something good would come out of this visit. “Armida, I know you won’t let me see Vlad, but could you at least give him something from me?” She took her old notebook out of her pocket.

  Armida raised an eyebrow. “What is this?”

  “The end of his book.”

  Armida took it, smiling. “He will appreciate it. I will, of course, have to examine it first for any clues you might have left about what really happened.” She flipped through the pages. “I admit I also had another reason to visit you. I came to warn you of the Night that is to come. You showed me kindness once, and I will return the favor. If you stay out of my way, I will not hurt you. But if you try to stop me, you will be destroyed with the rest of your kind.”

  Myra frowned. Another villain monologue? “What are you talking about?”

  “You will know soon enough. But first tell me, after all you have seen of me, would you still choose my side over the Prince’s?”

  “What do you want me to say?” Myra’s voice shook.

  “I would have you tell me the truth. Come now, don’t be afraid.”

  “The truth? The truth is, I think you are more evil than Vlad.”

  Armida laughed. “Compliment taken. My kind and yours both called what happened fifty years ago the Nightfall. But back then, you had no idea what real night was, and you still don’t. I will show you. My beloved was a visionary, but he had a kind heart, and that was his downfall. I do not. You did not think the war was over, did you? It has not even begun. And when I emerge victorious, I will teach you all the meaning of real darkness.”

  Myra bit her lip. Why was Armida delivering her villain monologues to her and then leaving her alive? She is alone, Myra realized. If Vlad finds out the truth, she will lose him forever. And she doesn’t trust Yong, William, Anne, or even Indira. I want to kill her, and yet I am the closest thing she has to a friend.

  Armida turned around, her red hair waving like a banner behind her as she walked away among the dying trees. Soundlessly, Myra raised her crossbow and loaded it with a wooden bolt. She stared at Armida’s back and felt tears come unbidden to her eyes.

  She had seen goodness in Armida once. She had seen the trials the vampire had faced, the insecurities she had overcome, and the love that had driven her. But none of that mattered now. Armida’s words were perhaps nothing more than a big-bad-wannabe boast. And yet, in case it was more than that…

  Myra pulled the trigger.

  The wooden bolt flew, grazing the vampire’s shoulder. Armida turned around, a smile on her lips, as she clutched at her wound. “I saw potential in you,” she said. “I even considered turning you.”

  This was enough. In the past few months, the lure of darkness had intoxicated her mind, but now she saw everything clearly. At a long last, she knew what side she was fighting on. “I would have made a terrible vampire,” Myra said and reloaded her crossbow. But even before she fired, she knew the truth—Armida was too far away for an accurate shot.

  The first rays of the rising sun flickered amidst the rosy clouds, but it was too late. Armida waved at her before disappearing into the dark dead woods.

  Myra lowered her crossbow—she would need it for the fights to come. Vlad’s tale of the Nightfall was over, but a new chapter in the struggle between humans and vampires was about to begin. And this time, Myra was ready to write the story.

  Acknowledgements

  First of all, many thanks to all of you who read Kingdom of Ashes and took the time to write a review or just dropped me a few lines to share your thoughts. You are my greatest inspiration!

  The story wouldn’t have been the same without my beta readers and editors. Cady and Anaiya had a huge impact on the very early draft, and RaeAnne and Eliza helped so much with the fine tuning!

  As always, thanks to Nadica for the fabulous cover art!

  Author’s Notes

  on Historical Accuracy

  Unlike Kingdom of Ashes, where most of the story takes place in the future, a large part of Men and Monsters is practically historical fiction. I’ve tried to keep Prince Vladimir’s story as historically accurate as possible, but sometimes I had to make assumptions or even take liberties with known timelines, and I feel I should clarify these.

  I’m dividing my notes into three parts—timelines, people, and history vs. mythology. In the next section, you’ll also find a Glossary of potentially unfamiliar terms appearing in the book.

  Timelines

  I’ve slightly played with the historical timeline at a couple of points, namely:

  Prince Vladimir’s human life: The story opens with the death of Khan Presian—852 AD. Then we jump to the Christianization—864-866. In particular, the rebellion of the fifty-two noblemen that results in the execution of their entire families happens in real life in the summer of 865. The gap is thirteen years, but I’ve referred to the passage of time as “a decade” since I wanted Erniké to be four in the first scene and fourteen at the time of the uprising. I’ve also taken some liberties with Vladimir-Rasate’s age—while his year of birth is unknown, there is evidence that he was already leading a military campaign around 853-854, which suggests he was probably at least ten years older than in my story.

  Prince Vladimir’s early vampire years: A more major change here. Vlad becomes a vampire in 865. After that, he spends a few decades mourning his family and only travels to Constantinople after Vladimir-Rasate’s fall from power and imprisonment—893. Then he travels to Scandinavia to join the Great Heathen Army and the invasions on the Anglo-Saxon kingdoms… which in real life start in 865. I considered making him join the Vikings right after he becomes a vampire (that would have matched exactly!), but it didn’t seem right to me that he’d jump straight into adventure right after he loses everyone.

  People

  Vlad interacts with a mixture of historical figures and fictional characters. For the fictional characters, I have tried to use names that are accurate for the specific time and place. The biggest challenge was finding proto-Bulgar female names. Finally, I found all I needed and more thanks to the brilliant Ph.D thesis “Zeugnisse der Kunst und Kultur der Protobulgaren aus der heidnischen Periode des Ersten Bulgarischen Reiches (7 bis 9 Jh.) Wesen. Ursprung. Parallelen” by Dr. Velina Dimitrova. Thanks to the University Library of Freie Universität Berlin for making it publicly available! Most of the names I ended up using—Roxana, Asmara, Kalina, Bisera, Savera—are accurate, with one possible exception: Erniké.

  You have probably noticed that Erniké’s name seems different. It follows a pattern very common in several languages in the Turkic family: a female name ending in a stressed “e” (pronounced like the e in “let.”) The name might or might not be accurate—I couldn’t find strong evidence either way. I named Erniké after a character in the novel Foretold by Pagane by Vera Mutafchieva, which is also the source material for the movie 681 AD: The Glory of the Khan. I read it as a kid, and it’s been one of my inspirations when writing Vlad’s story, so I wanted to make this small nod to the book.

  When it comes to the historical figur
es, not everything is known, and I had to make a few assumptions:

  Ivar the Boneless: It is unclear what kind of disability he had, or if he had a disability at all. Some sagas mention he was born with no bones as a punishment for Ragnar disregarding Aslaug’s prophecy, but the descriptions of his condition contradict each other across sources, and some sources mention nothing unusual at all. The one single element all stories have in common is Ivar’s wisdom and cunning. Here, I have assumed he suffers from a severe form of arthrochalasia Ehlers–Danlos syndrome.

  Ragnar Lodbrok: Sometimes transliterated as Lothbrok. He is a prominent character in the sagas and Old Norse poetry, but it is unknown if he ever really existed. Characters who appear in the sagas as the sons of Ragnar—Björn, Ivar, Halfdan, etc.—are well-documented historical figures, but Ragnar himself could be an amalgamation of different people, a historical figure with fictional deeds attributed to him, or a completely fictional character. According to the sagas, he dies when King Ælla throws him into a pit of snakes, and the Great Heathen Army assembles to avenge his death. While the invasion of the Great Heathen Army is a real event, there is no historical proof it happened as a reaction to Ragnar’s death.

  Lagertha: She appears in the sagas as a legendary shieldmaiden and the first wife of Ragnar. Historians are debating whether she really existed or not, and while many believe she is purely fictional, there is some evidence she might have been based on a woman named Thorgerd, who appears in chronicles from the sixth century. Even if that’s the case, the timelines wouldn’t match, and Lagertha probably never existed in the way she appears in the sagas. Still, in this book I have assumed she is a real person, just like Ragnar. And while she herself might be fictional, there is historical evidence outside of the sagas that shieldmaidens like her did exist.

  History vs. Mythology

  While the events around Prince Vladimir’s human life are reasonably well-documented, once he joins the Vikings, fact and fiction become blurry. A lot of information comes from the sagas, and I had to make some assumptions about what is historically accurate.

  Blood Eagle: There is a debate among historians whether this execution method was practiced in real life. It appears twice in the sagas: the second time is when Ivar captures King Ælla after the battle of York, and the sons of Ragnar perform the ritual as a punishment for Ælla killing their father. In the “Tale of Ragnar's Sons” the scene is described as follows: “They caused the bloody eagle to be carved on the back of Ælla, and they cut away all of the ribs from the spine, and then they ripped out his lungs.” Some historians believe the ritual was indeed practiced and was not only a method of execution, but also a sacrifice to Odin at the same time. Others, however, argue that the practice is fictional, or that early versions of the sagas were misunderstood or mistranslated. Some even believe it was Christian propaganda, designed to demonize the Vikings. Naturally, I’ve gone with the most dramatic theory and assumed it’s real.

  Ivar and the cow skin: This one is obviously not historically accurate, but it’s a fun little story, and I’ve decided to include a modified version. One of the sagas claims that Ivar initially wants to make peace with King Ælla and promises to leave him alone if the King gives him as much land as an ox’s hide can cover. Ivar cuts the hide into very thin strips, so that it’s enough to encircle a large fortress. In spite of the promise of peace, Ivar returns a couple of years later and proceeds with the whole Blood Eagle business.

  As you’ve seen in the book, I’ve made two major changes to the story. First, it didn’t make sense to me that Ivar would have civil interactions with Ælla and then return for the Blood Eagle. The Blood Eagle comes from a desire for revenge and makes sense to be executed while Ivar’s anger is still hot. Thus, I made Ivar have the ox’s hide exchange with Björn instead. Second, asking for land as big as a single ox’s hide seems a bit cartoonish outside of legends, so I had Ivar ask for fifty cows’ hides.

  Glossary

  boíla—A nobleman’s title, used by Bulgar aristocracy between the 7th and 10th centuries. The aristocracy was split into great boílas, small boílas, and bagains—military commanders who held less power than the boílas. A great boíla was the highest title after the khan. Later, all these noblemen become known as boyars. Note that the word is usually transliterated as “boila” without the acute accent on the “i”—I’ve added the accent to give a hint that “i” is the stressed syllable.

  boyar—A Slavic nobleman’s title, possibly originally derived from boíla. Other forms include bolyar or bolyarin.

  jötnar—Plural form of jötunn. Entities in Norse mythology, distinct from gods, elves, or dwarfs, but possibly including other creatures, such as trolls. While many are described as hideous giants, they are not all large, and some can be exceedingly beautiful. Odin is believed to have descended from the jötnar.

  jötunheimr—One of the nine worlds in Norse mythology that are held in the branches and roots of the world tree Yggdrasil. Home of the Jötnar, this world is covered in rocks, dense forests and snow, with no fertile land. Because of this, its inhabitants survive only on the fish in the rivers and the animals in the forests.

  kanasubigi—A Great Khan. The title is used by some khans in Krum’s Dynasty.

  khaganate—A political entity ruled by a khan. An alternative form is khanate.

  khan—Originally, the title of rulers of tribal entities in multiple regions across the Eurasian Steppe. From around the 7th century on, it is used as a title of the ruler of a sovereign state, roughly equivalent to “king.”

  knyaz—A Slavic nobleman’s title, roughly equivalent to “prince,” but at different times and places could refer to anything from a village elder to a king. In the historical context here, it refers to a ruler of an independent state.

  kumis—A drink made of fermented mare’s milk that existed since at least the 5th century BC. Mare’s milk is extremely high in lactose, which makes it a very powerful laxative and nearly undrinkable in its natural state. After fermentation, the lactose is broken down, and the drink can be safely consumed even by the lactose intolerant. Alcohol levels can reach up to 2.5% but can be further increased through freeze distillation, which the nomads of Central Asia discovered early on.

  midgard—One of the nine worlds in Norse mythology and home of the humans. Literally translates as “middle earth” as it’s in the middle of the worlds, right underneath Asgard, the home of the gods. Midgard is in the middle of an unpassable ocean, surrounded by a huge serpent that encircles it completely and bites at its own tail. The world is connected to Asgard via the rainbow bridge Bifrost.

  nestinarki—Female form of nestinari. Ritual dancers who perform barefooted over smoldering embers. Versions of this custom are still performed nowadays in regions of Bulgaria and Greece. The Greek version of the ritual is called Anastenaria.

  niflheim—One of the nine worlds in Norse mythology and the coldest and darkest of them all. All cold rivers in the world come from a well called Hvergelmir, which is where all life starts and all living beings will return in the end.

  numismata—Latin plural of numisma. Currency in Medieval Byzantium. Transliterated from the Ancient Greek νόμισμα, literally “coin.”

  samodiva—Samodivas are nymph-like creatures in South Slavic folklore. Unearthly beautiful women, with long flowing hair and magical eyes that can enchant and even kill. Dressed in white, with a long cloak-like veil that holds their power. They live in the mountains, in huge old trees, abandoned huts or dark caves, close to rivers and wells. At night, they dance by the lakes, and no dance is more beautiful than theirs, but they hide at dawn as they fear the sunlight. They come to the human world only between spring and autumn, and in winter live in the mythical village Zmeikovo, at the end of the world. They love all music, especially all songs played on a kaval (a wooden, end-blown flute,) which is why they often kidnap shepherds and force them to play.

  Some believe samodivas are magical creatures, others—that they are dead
human women who were so sinful in life that neither heaven nor hell wanted them. Some stories claim they kidnap the maidens they like and turn them into samodivas. Humans can protect themselves with garlic, ash, bones of a dead woman, frankincense, or dry snakeskin. If a man steals a samodiva’s veil—also called her ‘shadow’—while she is bathing, she will turn into a mortal woman and marry him, but she will never be an obedient housewife and will keep trying to regain her freedom.

  sklábos—From the Byzantine Greek σκλάβος—slave. The word is identical to the old Byzantine word for “a Slav,” which is why in the Middle Ages many believed that was how the word sklábos was originally derived. The explanation made some sense at the time—Slavs, being non-Christian, were often enslaved by both the Holy Roman Empire and Byzantium. Vlad uses this as an argument to convince Erniké that large empires, such as Byzantium, always treat the native people badly. However, while the theory that the words for “slave” and “Slav” have the same root appears in German texts from the 9th and 10th century, nowadays this is regarded as pseudo-etymology and propaganda to justify the mass enslavements. Modern etymologists believe the Byzantine word for “slave” is actually derived from the verb skuleúō, “to get the spoils of war,” and the similarity to the word for “Slav” is completely coincidental. Thus, Vlad’s argument is partially inaccurate.