The Dracula Chronicles: The Path To Decay

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The Dracula Chronicles: The Path To Decay Page 23

by Shane KP O'Neill


  “What is it?”

  “I worry for my mother. God only knows what fate might befall her. She has never been without my father. What shall she do without him? God, I do not even know if she is alive.”

  “There is nothing you can do for her in the now, except pray. If you go anywhere near Suceava, Petru would have you killed. Then I would have carved my hand open for no good reason.”

  Stephen tried not to laugh, but could not stop himself. “How can you make a jest about something so serious?”

  “It is better to laugh than cry.”

  “So what are we going to do? It is a fine pair of voivodes we are while we remain stuck in a cave.”

  “I think we should stay here awhile. It is safe.”

  “It shall soon be turning cold. I can already smell snow in the air.”

  “Yes, I smell it too. Still, I want to remain here until you have your strength fully restored. I shall continue to hunt for food and keep the fire going every day.”

  “That is not enough to keep us warm.”

  “Perhaps I might venture down into civilisation and find us better skins to wear.”

  “What do you propose we do once I have my strength back?”

  “I am not certain. There are not many options open to us if we remain together.”

  “It would hardly be wise for us to separate.”

  “No, it would not be. But I have more enemies than you.”

  “You are my brother. Your enemies are mine.”

  “That is good to know. We cannot go home, either of us, unless we wish to die. The same would happen if we set foot in Anatolia. Mehmed loathes me with a passion, and shall you too. The only other option open to us is Transylvania.”

  “Are you losing your mind? Hunyadi would know of it the moment we arrive.”

  “There are many boyars there loyal to my father.”

  “Your father has been dead four whole years, Vlad. Memories fade fast and loyalties fade even faster. You and I both know that.”

  “On occasion I would agree, but not in this case. There were those who loved my father dearly. They shall protect us from Hunyadi ‘til we are in a position to stand alone.”

  “I hope you are right,” Stephen said. “Transylvania, you had best prepare, for here we come.”

  THE ROMANIAS.

  THE BORGO PASS BETWEEN

  TRANSYLVANIA AND MOLDAVIA.

  JANUARY, 1452.

  The two cousins spent the winter safe in the mountains. They moved to a new location every couple of weeks. Dracula had purchased skins in one of the villages at the foot of the mountains. He feared, after that, his enemies would come hunting for them, but without the skins they could not have survived the cold.

  Petru received word of Dracula’s re-appearance and sent groups out for weeks to search for him and Stephen. Dracula often saw them in the distance and made sure to cover his tracks. He would kill their fire and wait for their pursuers to move on. In time, the heavy rains and then the snows made these occasions far fewer. Each time the cousins changed their location, they moved to a cave higher and deeper into the mountains.

  At some point, they lost track of time. When the New Year came and went they did not know it. The snow in the mountains got heavier and forced them to move further down. Stephen got his strength back after a few weeks. But for his cousin, he had not seen a soul in over three months. Dracula was glad of the quiet. It allowed him the time to think and plan ahead. He knew they would have to move on again soon.

  That very thought occupied his mind when, one day, Stephen asked, “Are we going to remain up here forever?”

  Dracula looked at him from the stag he had just skinned. He was a sight in his sheepskins and heavy beard. “I like it here. Why, do you want to move on?”

  “I would like us to move on, yes.” Then he grinned. “As much as I love you, cousin, I like the company of many people. That of a woman would be good too, especially on these long cold nights. I do not wish you for a bed companion.”

  “If you wish, we can leave on the morrow. It has been in my mind to do so. When the snows have gone, they shall look for us again.”

  Stephen did not want to think of them. “Yes, that would please me. Where do you think we should go?”

  “Hunyadi’s estates and real power lies in the west. So we should stay to the east.”

  “Where then do you think is best? Sibiu? Or even Brasov?”

  “Yes, I would imagine so. But bear it in mind that many of the boyars who rose up against my father have estates in or around these cities.”

  “All the more reason to go there. We can kill a few while they sleep.”

  Dracula laughed. “We might well do that. But I fear my presence and their demise would be far too much of a coincidence.”

  Stephen laughed with him. “Yes, it would, but a grand notion all the same.”

  “Well, we would be in the public eye. That is for certain. There is no way we can venture into Transylvania and not be noticed.”

  “We are brothers. And together we can meet any challenge.”

  “If you wish. I would be as happy to remain here away from prying eyes.”

  “We can never win back our kingdoms by hiding in the mountains.”

  “Yes, but I care little for my kingdom in the now.”

  “What spirit has invaded your body? Those are not the words of my cousin.”

  “I have changed. They say nature can change a man. I see it is true.”

  Stephen felt sure his cousin was teasing him. “Well, I hate to argue with you, mountain man. Even if you lose the desire to rule Wallachia, you swore an oath. I shall need your support to win back the throne that is mine. We cannot do it by hiding in the mountains. We must establish a power base.”

  “Very well. On the morrow we return to civilisation.”

  The next day, the two of them rode out from their isolated camp in the mountains. They entered the Borgo Pass to the west of Bistrita that linked Transylvania with Moldavia. Dracula thought it the best time to travel as the snows in the pass would keep traffic to a minimum.

  “We shall have to avoid the town when we reach the other side,” Stephen said. “Hunyadi has control of it with his mercenaries.”

  “Yes, let us give it a wide berth then.”

  “I went there many times with my father. The town is overrun with them. I would say it is his main power base in the east.”

  “Hush,” Dracula cautioned, his head cocked as if listening out for something.

  “What is it?”

  Dracula did not answer. He remained as he was with his head cocked to the side. Then they appeared, a dozen riders coming up the pass. “That is what I was listening for. I knew I heard them.”

  “Let us flee again to the mountains.”

  “No, we must not. They would only give chase. It is better that we ride on. Perhaps then they might leave us be.”

  “Very well. If they stop us, what do we say?”

  Dracula had to think fast. Should he have to explain who they were, he would have to make it sound good. “It is true that Basarab was giving his support to Petru Aaron? We can believe that?”

  “If my father said it is so you can be sure it is true.”

  “Very well then. We are on our way west to Hunedoara after helping Petru Aaron seize the throne. That is our story.”

  They rode on at a canter. The distance between them and the other riders shortened. They struck up a conversation in the hope it would avert contact with the oncoming soldiers. When they passed, the two of them raised their hands in salute and kept going. Moments later, they stopped when the head of the group shouted back at them. “Wait!”

  “Shall we bolt for it?” Stephen whispered low enough so that only his cousin could hear.

  “No, let us keep to our story.” He turned his horse to face the group. His gaze fell on the bearded head of the men. “Is something wrong?”

  “Who are you men?”

  “Why? We are
soldiers going about our way. Who are you?”

  The man could see from their swords that they were fighting men. “I am not familiar with your faces. To whom do you give your allegiance?”

  “That is a question I have no cause to answer. Are you looking to engage us?”

  The man laughed, as did the others with him. “We are twelve to your two. You are hardly in a position to be so bold.”

  Dracula prodded his horse to walk towards the man. As they drew closer he offered him a cold, hard stare. “Twelve to two. The odds are well stacked against you, I would say.”

  The comment removed the smile from the man’s face. “You are pretty sure of yourself, soldier.”

  Dracula did not falter from his gaze. “Oh yes, that I am.”

  “You are in the vicinity of Bistrita,” the man reminded him. “As Captain of the Guard at the garrison there I am obliged to ask you who you are.”

  Dracula looked at the other men. “It is a small garrison then that you have.”

  The man glared at him, his hand touching against the hilt of his sword. “You are a brazen cur. I grant you that.”

  Dracula kept his nerve and smiled back. He shifted his sheepskin to show that his sword was even longer. “Rest easy, Captain. Where is your sense of humour?”

  “I do not have one,” he scowled. “To whom do you give your allegiance? If I have to ask again, we shall engage you.”

  “As you wish. My master is John Hunyadi.”

  “You are a long way from home, soldier. I have never seen you in this area. From where have you come?”

  “We have been camping out in the mountains for a few weeks. My comrade suffered an injury while we were out hunting. We had no choice but to remain there until he was healed and well enough to ride again.”

  “And before that?”

  “We assisted Petru Aaron in gaining the throne. Our work is done there.”

  “So, to where are you riding?”

  “We are on our way back to Hunedoara. That is our home garrison.”

  “I was not aware that the Governor had sent men to assist Petru Aaron.”

  “Then you are not best informed.”

  The Captain gave him an icy stare. “I am aware of all that happens within fifty miles of my town.”

  “Then that is no longer the case.”

  “What is your name, soldier?”

  “The last I knew, only my master had the right to ask that of me. You look nothing like him.”

  Dracula could see the he was losing his patience. He would have to remain calm if he were going to see this charade through. “Captain,” he said, “if you doubt my word, then we can settle this in the here and now as men. I only wonder how I am going to explain to Hunyadi that we killed a dozen of his finest soldiers. He would not be amused.”

  “Forget this, Antoni,” one of the other men urged. “It is nonsense. We have pressing business elsewhere. Let them go on their way.”

  He looked back at his man and then to Dracula again.

  “It is the best choice, Antoni,” Dracula said to him. “We can go our own way, and you on yours.”

  “Come,” he said to his men. “We have wasted enough time here.”

  Dracula waited until they were gone. “Come, dear cousin. We need to get off this road.”

  They made it to the end of the pass and rode south for days until they came to Sighisoara. No one paid them any heed as they moved through the streets. When they passed the garrison buildings, Dracula stopped to look at them. “I was born here,” he said.

  He looked up at the battlements and at the courtyard through the gates. “This is where my father had his first commission as commander of the southern frontier.”

  “So you are Transylvanian by right?”

  “No, I am Wallachian and always shall be. But my mother birthed me here.”

  “Move on,” one of the guards at the gate warned them. “There can be no loitering around the gates.”

  “Come,” he said to Stephen. “Let us find a nice warm bed for the night. God knows, but I need it.”

  They remained in the city for two days before taking to the road again. Their destination was Brasov and on arrival they went straight to the mayor of the city.

  The mayor looked puzzled when he saw the two of them. His officials informed him they had come to see him. “Can I help you, gentlemen?”

  “Yes,” Dracula said. “We wanted to inform you we were in the city. And, of course, to ask your permission to remain. As a mark of respect.”

  “And you are?”

  “I am Vlad Dracula of Wallachia. The man with me is my cousin, Stephen Musatin of Moldavia.”

  The mayor’s expression changed at once. His heart raced, but he did not show it. “That is very noble of you, and appreciated. What brings you to my fair city?”

  “I am Transylvanian by birth and have the right to be here. And it is our only safe haven. You are no doubt aware of the current political climate. It seems we have enemies any way we turn.”

  “I have no objection to you being here. How safe it is for you I cannot say. I am sure there are others who would not be as accommodating.”

  “If our situation becomes untenable here we shall of course move on. We do not want to be the cause of any trouble.”

  “I hope you can appreciate that I am bound by my office. I shall have to mention your arrival to the City Council, but shall stress that your intentions are honourable.”

  “Thank you. We cannot ask for more.”

  “You do know your presence here should attract attention?”

  Dracula nodded. “Yes. That is why I came to you first, out of courtesy.”

  The mayor bowed and then left them. They returned to their horses outside.

  “How long do you think it might be before Hunyadi hears of this?” Stephen asked.

  “How fast can a messenger ride to Hunedoara?” Dracula said, climbing back into the saddle. “There is no use in worrying over it. So let us go. We have work to do.”

  “That can wait. I am heading for the nearest brothel.”

  In the next week, Dracula met with close to a dozen boyars. He had to exercise care with those he chose to approach. And then he only spoke to those he knew were friends or allies of his father. All but one of the houses he visited received him. In the others, the men he met with celebrated his return. It saw new alliances taking the place of the old.

  TRANSYLVANIA.

  JOHN HUNYADI’S PRIVATE ROOMS

  AT HUNEDOARA.

  FEBRUARY, 1452.

  The news, when he heard it, did not please Hunyadi. He was resting after dinner when his son, Laszlo, knocked his door. “I have a letter, father.”

  “Can it not wait? I have had my fill of politics for one day.”

  “It has come from Brasov. I think it needs your attention.”

  He knew his son would have read it before coming to him. If it were a matter he could have dealt with, he would have. He got up from his bed and took the letter.

  Laszlo took a seat close by and waited. The colour on his father’s face was enough to indicate what he thought of it. “I did not think you would be pleased.”

  “Can you believe this? He has the audacity to show his face in Brasov?”

  “He has balls the size of a horse. I grant him that.”

  “Then perhaps I should cut them off! Let us see how he would manage then.”

  “A man such as he would only grow another pair.”

  Hunyadi did not care for the remark and glared at his son. Laszlo did his very best to keep a straight face, but could not hold it and burst into laughter. A few moments later, his father did too.

  “You shall never change, boy. But this is no laughing matter. We do not want this man in our midst. I need to know what he is doing here.”

  “I cannot imagine he has many places left to go. Moldavia is no longer a safe haven for him.”

  “And neither is this territory.”

  “He had to a
ppear at some point. There are old scores to settle.”

  “I daresay he is not here for that. He has no money, no power and no army. I feel as though he is mocking me. Perhaps he thinks he faces little or no danger here since that night at Kosovo.”

  Since his defeat at Kosovo, Hunyadi had lost much of his influence. All he had escaped with was his life. He lost a lot of what else he had had. King Ladislas Posthumus and the Hungarian Diet stripped him of his titles in Hungary. He retained his vast estates in Transylvania and a few less prestigious titles there. His only comfort was that he still remained commander of the eastern front.

  “He knows better than that, Father. We have not had a good time of it since then, but he has had it worse. I am sure he poses no threat to us. As you said, he has nothing.”

  “All the same, I do not want him here. As if I do not have enough problems. But I do want my revenge for Kosovo and this could allow me the chance to have it.”

  “Yes, there is that. He should not be hard to seek out.”

  “For years, I have toiled to bring this family to where it is, or was. I was so close to putting you on the Hungarian throne. But he took all that away in one foul swoop.”

  “There shall be other campaigns, Father. There is always another war to fight. Mehmed should see to that. And when he does, the Diet shall come to you to save them. Who else do they have to turn to?”

  It was true and Hunyadi nodded to agree. “And he is going to bring war to us. It is clear to see he wants Constantinople. If it falls to him, then he would come west and target Belgrade. That is where we shall have to fight him.”

  “Yes, Mehmed wants it all. At least if Constantinople does fall, the Diet would give us the resources we need to secure Belgrade and the Danube. They know if Belgrade falls, then Hungary shall follow soon after.”

  “Do not be so sure of it. It is our money that is securing the fortress there. We pay for the soldiers there from our coffers. The nobles in Hungary refuse to give any support. They want our protection, but give us nothing in return. I curse them all. Perhaps I should give the city to Mehmed. It would be as much as they deserve.”

  “You know you would not do that. When the day comes that we have to fight Mehmed there, it is what could bring our family up once more.”

 

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