After a long moment, Sergiu spoke softly, as if he were afraid of Vlad’s reaction. “You do realize that she is not the Lady Vallachia?”
“What are you talking about? Of course I know that!”
“You called Ilona Vallachia ... twice.”
“I did not ... Did I?”
Sergiu gave a solemn nod.
Vlad studied Ilona’s face. Now that it was motionless, the resemblance to Vallachia was almost gone. Vlad shook his head to clear it. “I destroyed her. I should have let her go a long time ago. She is dead because the one thing she wanted more than anything was the one thing I could not give her.”
“It is time you end this charade. You should go to the one you truly love. She may still wait for you in the North. That is the only way you will find happiness.”
Vlad was hollow. Ilona had filled a void and now that she was gone it was as if half of him was missing. What replaced the emptiness was anger. It consumed him — making him whole again. He gently laid Ilona’s body on the riverbank. A furious yell escaped from him as he stood, taking flight for the Ottoman Camp. Vlad imagined the disapproving look on Sergiu’s face. Though Vlad did not turn to see it for himself, he knew it was there. Yes, let us end this charade.
With his human pretenses gone, Vlad landed at Abdullah’s side at the head of the army. “We end this now.”
Abdullah nodded.
Vlad addressed his men. “Janissaries, it is time to finish this!” He spread his wings to their full extent and took flight for the enemy’s camp, with his men close behind.
With no irritating sun in their eyes, Vlad’s army of vampires laid waste to the sultan’s men. Vlad searched everywhere for Mustapha but he was nowhere to be found. Soon the overextended Ottomans retreated in terror, even as their leaders yelled at them to continue fighting. After all, they were only humans. They had been fighting all day and their human bodies were beyond needing to rest.
As for Vlad and his men, well, the night belonged to them. Now filled with rage, Vlad slaughtered more men than could be counted. This seemed to drive his soldiers as well. They rallied around him and fought better than they had earlier that day.
Cosmin and Costel killed two more of the sultan’s vampires, yet that still left three and they were nowhere to be found. Vlad’s men, as well as the few human soldiers who could still stand, pursued Mehmed and his men as they retreated. Vlad followed them as far as Targoviste but once it was clear that they would do no more harm to his people, he ordered them to push the enemy far back into their own land and then return to protect the border.
Vlad had a terrible feeling that he must return to Poienari at once. Perhaps his concubines were in trouble. Jusztina, little Vlad! He heard the screaming before he reached the castle. His wings could not carry him fast enough. Racing to the women’s chambers he found the two Janissary guards fighting off Mustapha’s men. Mustapha himself had recently broken through the large doors to the women’s quarters.
Mustapha’s upper body was well protected with armor so Vlad threw a dirk into the back of Mustapha’s upper leg. As he fell Vlad sped toward him and sent him flying across the room with a hard kick to the back. This caused more screams from the already terrified women as they moved away from the two blood-stained men.
“Get out!” Vlad yelled.
This they gladly did.
Mustapha lay on the floor against the adjacent wall. He slowly pulled the knife out of the back of his leg and moaned in pain. He smiled. “I wondered when you would show up. Since you prefer impaling so much, we left a gift for you on your front lawn.”
Sergiu! No! Vlad thought. Mustapha threw Vlad’s knife and Vlad quickly dodged it.
In no time Vlad was on him. With his knee pressed hard against Mustapha’s chest, Vlad used all his might to twist Mustapha’s head from his body. Vlad quickly returned to the men who had been fighting in the hall. One of Vlad’s guards lay dead and Mustapha’s two men were about to kill the last of his Janissary guards. Vlad threw another of the dirks from his belt into the throat of one of them. This distracted the other of his vampire enemies and he moved in quickly to cut off his head with his sword.
“Will you make it?” Vlad asked his wounded soldier.
He nodded.
“Where is Sergiu?”
The guard shook his head no, as he clutched his bleeding side and squeezed his eyes shut in pain.
“Wrap that up tight to slow the bleeding.” Vlad would have done it himself but he was frantic to find Sergiu.
Mustapha’s last vampire soldier pulled the knife out of his throat, choking on his own blood. Vlad finished him with his long sword and the slightest flick of the wrist.
“Serg!” Vlad called as he ran toward the front entrance. “Pasha!”
There was no answer. As promised, on the front lawn there was Sergiu’s head impaled on a spear. Vlad’s entire world came out from under him. He fell to his knees. Ilona was right, this life was not worth living. If he could have died right then and there he would have. He prayed for the first time since becoming a monster. He prayed for God to end his life. But God refused to listen. Vlad did not blame Him, as he did not deserve the mercy that death would bring.
Chapter 59 Wallachia 1462 A.D
It was unclear to Vlad how much time had passed before he was capable of moving. He had to take Sergiu’s head down. Sergiu required a proper burial. Numbly, Vlad dug two graves, one for Sergiu and one for Ilona. They would be buried next to each other in front of the castle Poienari. Vlad almost had the graves complete when a vampire landed in front him. Vlad did not look up; he knew it was Cosmin by his scent.
Cosmin surveyed the two large holes. “Abdullah sent us to check on you. He did not feel he could leave the troops unattended. What are you —”
Costel’s cries rang out. “Pasha! No! Pasha!”
Cosmin ran to his brother’s side and knelt down beside Sergiu’s body and detached head, which Vlad had laid on the ground by the fresh graves. Their wails of grief were too much. Vlad left to retrieve Ilona from the riverbank and laid her in her final resting place.
Vlad’s only surviving castle guard joined them. He was mostly healed.
“Are the women safe?” Vlad’s voice was flat.
“Yes, Master.”
“Go to Abdullah. Tell him to bring my Janissaries. Leave only a few to stand guard. Inform him that it is time to mourn for our pasha.” Vlad wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible. He did not know how much longer he could stand this grief without falling apart entirely. Informing his men of the loss had to be done and he wanted it over. Sergiu meant so much to all of them. He had been a kind and loving father to them all.
Vlad thought Abdullah was going to come unhinged when he saw Sergiu’s body. He lifted Sergiu’s body into his arms as he knelt on the bloodstained ground. Vlad had never seen so much as a drop of moisture in Abdullah’s eyes but tears ran down his cheeks and fell on Sergiu’s headless body. Vlad could take no more. He could not bear his own grief, let alone theirs. Leaving them to finish burying the bodies, Vlad took flight without knowing where he would go — it did not matter — nothing mattered.
Vlad ended up at Sergiu’s cave. There he would sleep for as long as possible. He prayed he would never wake.
Yet, he did. He started out of the cave entrance hoping beyond all hope to find Sergiu there — making his special brew. But Vlad was alone. Slowly he moved to sit outside the cave. He gazed at the mountaintops without seeing them. This was where he would stay forever, unmoving. If only there was a way to gain a moment’s relief from the pain. He would have done anything to escape his own thoughts but he was trapped. There was no reprieve in sight. Perhaps once he petrified he would not feel any more. Surely this would end the unbearable torture. He didn’t know how many days he sat perfectly still before he heard distant voices.
Vlad was barely conscious of Cosmin. “The cave is around here somewhere, I know it.”
“This way. I have his s
cent,” Abdullah said.
They landed in front of Vlad. He did not move or even blink.
“Master!” Costel moved toward Vlad.
But Abdullah stopped him. “Please, Master, we are all mourning the loss of our beloved pasha but you are the leader of Wallachia and our people need you now more than ever.”
Vlad stared into space. His voice was hoarse when he finally spoke. “I will not move from this spot.”
“For how long do you plan to stay here?” Costel asked.
“Forever.”
Cosmin put his head down in sorrow.
Abdullah stepped closer. “We beg of you, Master, our pasha is gone, we cannot lose you as well.”
These words breathed some life back into Vlad. It slowly pulled him out of the deep chasm he had fallen into in an unsuccessful attempt to escape the pain. Vlad had not thought of anyone but Sergiu and his own suffering. Yet there were others who needed him. There were others he cared about.
I must be strong … for them — but how? Vlad thought. He put his head down and shook it. His neck felt like grinding stones when it moved. He had been still too long; perhaps he had already begun to petrify. “I cannot do this. I can’t do any of it without him. Nothing matters anymore.”
“I know,” Abdullah said as he sat beside Vlad and placed his arm over Vlad’s shoulder. “But we must try to carry on — for Sergiu. He would not want you to waste away forever.”
Vlad looked at Abdullah for the first time since he had arrived. “That sounds like something Sergiu would say.”
“He taught us well. His wisdom lives on through us.”
The slightest smile crossed Vlad’s face. “And here I thought he was gone. But you sound just like him. Will I never be free of his annoying edification?”
Abdullah chuckled — his eyes full of moisture.
Vlad had to gather his wits. He had to go on — somehow.
Cosmin took Vlad’s hand and pulled him to his feet.
Vlad felt as if his body was breaking out of a stone mold.
“It is time to go home, Master,” Costel said.
Vlad found a river to bathe in. He was still covered in dried blood from the battle.
Soon they landed outside of Targoviste.
“Your people will be glad to see you,” Abdullah said.
“Don’t they know that I am not human?” Vlad asked.
“There are many rumors flying about but most humans cannot be sure of what they saw the night we ran the Ottomans from our lands. Most humans were hidden away and saw nothing. They do not care how you did it. They only know that you managed to defeat the world’s largest army with few casualties. You are a war hero of the greatest measure,” Abdullah said.
None of this was making Vlad feel any better, because none of it mattered.
Chapter 60 Wallachia 1462 A.D
People gathered as they spotted Vlad. They mumbled things such as, “There he is, Prince Vlad.” “He has returned!” “God bless you, Voivode!” Soon it seemed that everyone in town lined the streets and cheered. Vlad nodded as he passed but could not manage a smile.
“It is ironic; being their hero was never my intention.” Vlad spoke quietly and in Turkish.
“Yet you took extra precautions to protect them and you ran the enemy off of their land. You have made Wallachia a better place,” Abdullah said.
Once in the Great Hall, Vlad sent a servant to retrieve Jusztina and little Vlad. He had to see for himself that they were alive and well.
Vlad’s human chamberlain scurried in. “How wonderful that you have returned, Master. It is beyond all hope to see you alive — after your terrible fall off the Poienari tower ...” He waited for an explanation as to how Vlad could possibly be standing in front of him.
Vlad offered none.
Under Vlad’s hard stare the tiny fellow continued. “Yes, well — to business then. If I may advise, Your Majesty, now would be the time to march on Istanbul. The sultan’s forces are greatly damaged and the Mother of Cities is at its most vulnerable. With you leading our superior army I do not see how you could fail.”
“We will not march on Istanbul. That is no longer of importance.”
“But, Master, that was your plan — your desire all along. We must reclaim our land from the infidel. If anyone can accomplish this it is you.”
Has this chamberlain truly believed my rhetoric? Do my people honestly believe that we are fighting — no killing — for God? What God would actually want war? Vlad thought. He decided that the chamberlain was unable to see this for what it had been — simply Vlad’s own lust for power. All this death has occurred because I alone wanted more. Perhaps Voivode Dracul was right all along. Making peace with one’s neighbors is much more difficult than making war. If one wants a fight, they will surely find it — but peace. How does one obtain that? Impossible.
“It no longer matters.” Vlad finally said. In fact, it never mattered. How many times did Sergiu try to tell me this? I retake Istanbul and call myself Emperor. Then what? I still would not be satisfied. What would it take — to conquer the world? I could. But then what? Would I be happy then? No. Why didn't I listen to Sergiu? It took his death for me to finally see. I must put a stop to this madness.
The last words Sergiu spoke to Vlad rang through his mind. “It is time you end this charade. You should go to the one you truly love. She may still wait for you in the North. That is the only way you will find happiness.”
Until that moment Vlad had no idea what he would do next. He had not even given the future a second thought. This was because he had only hoped for no future at all — just death. But now he knew what he had to do. “No more blood,” he said to the chamberlain who was patiently waiting for his response. Blood, Vlad grabbed his throat as he became acutely aware that he was starving. “How long was I away?” he asked Abdullah in Turkish.
“Almost six weeks, Master.”
It was as if it had taken Vlad’s body this long to fully wake from his long stillness. In one swift motion he stood from his throne, stepped close to the human chamberlain and sank his teeth into his neck. After draining him of life, Vlad held the man’s body up with one hand under his upper arm. He handed the body to Cosmin. “Get him out of here before Jusztina and the baby see him.” In reality, little Vlad was no longer a baby, he was going on five years old.
The twins quickly dragged the body out of the room.
Abdullah handed Vlad a cloth to wipe away the blood.
Vlad looked at the rag, which was stained dark red. “Yet we never truly get away from the blood, now do we?” He shook his head in despair. The little man had been an excellent chamberlain. At least I did not hurt little Vlad.
Loud human footsteps approached. Vlad handed the bloody cloth back to Abdullah who quickly hid it behind his back.
Little Vlad pulled his hand from his mother’s when he saw Vlad and ran toward the only father he knew. “Baba, baba,” he yelled.
Vlad picked him up and held him tight. His tiny arms around Vlad’s neck felt like Heaven. Vlad never wanted to let him go.
“I knew you would come back. I told Mama not to worry.”
Vlad nodded a greeting to Jusztina. “You were worried about me?”
“Yes, well — Wallachia would fall apart without you. I’m glad you returned.”
Vlad threw his son high up in the air and the boy laughed at the thrill.
“You must have grown an entire length since I last saw you. Perhaps you are ready to take over as voivode?” Vlad proclaimed.
“Yes, I’m ready! Can I, Mama?” His voice was soft and sweet.
Jusztina shook her head in disapproval. “You should not encourage him so.”
At first, Vlad had thought that little Vlad’s presence would allow him to remain in power for a couple of generations by disappearing for a time from the public’s eye while placing his “son” as figurehead. Vlad would continue to run the kingdom from behind the scenes. Then eventually he could come back as Vlad
V and so on. It would have been tricky but it might have worked. However, Vlad had a new plan but first he had to make a trip north.
“I have to go away on business but I will return as soon as I can,” Vlad said.
The boy wrapped his arms around his father’s neck. “Don’t leave us again.”
“I will not be gone for long.”
“Take me with you,” the boy pleaded.
“I’m afraid I can’t, son.”
“Why not?”
Vlad tapped his finger lightly on the child’s tiny chest. “Because you have to stay here and look after things in my absence. You are the man of the house while I am away. Besides who else will keep your mother out of trouble?”
“Oh, wonderful. Now he will be an insufferable boss while you are away.” Jusztina appeared truly concerned.
A servant burst through the Great Hall doors. “Master, Master! It is your chamberlain. He was murdered in the street. His body was found in front of the compound.”
Chapter 61 Wallachia 1462 A.D
Vlad looked to Abdullah in disbelief.
“Oh no,” Jusztina said. She sensed that it was time for her and her son to leave. She snatched little Vlad from his father. “Vlad, I am sorry for your losses.”
Vlad put his arm around her shoulder. “And I’m glad the two of you are safe.” He kissed her forehead and kissed the little boy’s cheek.
Little Vlad teared up as his mother took him away.
“Don’t cry, my little prince. You must be strong. I will see you soon, I promise.” Once they were gone, Vlad turned to Abdullah. “Those two imbeciles left the chamberlain to be found twenty lengths from here! What if little Vlad had found him? They cannot be entrusted with the simplest of tasks. One would think that the disposal of a body would be easy for vampires.” Vlad sighed. “I am going to have to strangle them.”
Abdullah chuckled and shook his head. “Unbelievable.”
After briefly pretending to be surprised and concerned at the chamberlain’s “mysterious death,” Vlad headed to the women’s quarters. There was one last order of business to attend to before he headed to Copenhagen. Many of his concubines were gathered in their common room. The mood in the room changed dramatically when Vlad entered. They had previously been at their leisure but grew tense and silent at his appearance.
Of Princes and Dragons: Book 2 (Lords and Commoners) Page 24