His words were filled with hate and spite as he shouted. The air grew cold and my breath hastened when I saw what I knew to be an abomination, an affront to all that is holy; a red mist that crept through the room as though possessed by the devil himself. Yet it was not the devil I saw. It was what even he fears.
The mist swirled about Vladimir, calming his rage, soothing him, whispering to him the way a lover does when they are embraced. Her gown, flowing red, danced around him like water as her vision appeared.
“I can give you vengeance, Vladimir Dracul, and offer you a life without death, a life where love and pain know no bounds.”
I was so mortified at her appearance I could not speak at first as she drew her finger across his face. His eyes closed at her touch.
“Can you bring her back to me?” He whispered.
“I cannot give life where none lives. I can give only a life without death,” she said.
Her beauty even I found to be astounding as I averted my eyes. Her skin was like fine alabaster; her lips shone like rubies, and her eyes - those hauntingly beautiful eyes, were as rich as any mountain violet. Her scent was alluring, soft, and sensuous. I closed my eyes, clutching my rosary tightly as it hung at my side.
“This choice you must make, Vladimir. Place your hand in mine, and I shall grant your vengeance.”
When I opened my eyes, the infernal red mist had vanished along with my Vladimir. I had failed him. My faith had not been strong enough to save him.
“What was that abomination?” The Priest who stood alongside me asked.
I did not answer him. I could not, though I knew the answer. For if my suspicions were correct, my beloved Vladimir faced the greatest peril of his lifetime, and I knew not if he had the continence within him following Elisabeta’s death to resist what only she could offer.
Mihnea Rau I have taken to Mordecai and bid he finds safekeeping for the child until Vladimir has come to his senses.
Only war matters now and their blood shall fall like rain…
Chapter Ten
Vladimir Dracul’s Journal
1 January 1453
Deep in the Carpathians
The pain of her death is not lessened. My anger has not diminished. I ponder at length if I will continue to record my thoughts, the events of my life, as it seems now that they are merely the motions of a day without meaning or substance without her. Then, upon further consideration, I have decided certain events I shall continue to record so that should this history of one man’s life ever be discovered, they shall know what the true depth of my character was, how it was betrayed by the one who was sent to save me, and that it was all because of what was denied to my beloved upon her death. In the shadows I remain, watching them move about the castle as though her death has no meaning, from my perch high above our once beloved home.
12 January 1453
The castle I found empty upon my return, all but Ahbrim who did not abandon me despite my rash decision and hurtful words. He did not speak to me as I passed him. I went directly to the cathedral and boarded it shut. Never again would worship take place in Poenari Castle.
For hours I sat outside in the snow as it fell, wondering what torment she faced in Purgatory. Was she in pain? Could it be true the words whispered to me, that my beloved would one day come back to me and our love would be reunited? How could such things as this be without witchery?
The Guard had moved to the stables and took refuge there during my absence, but did not abandon me. How well they know their Viovode and that war would next be waged upon my return. Two servants remained with them, Orislov and Loki as well as the Nasady Boyars. I am pleased greatly at their loyalty.
The Turks will, no doubt, move siege now toward the Danube, believing they have delivered a devastating blow to the Viovode of Wallachia. How sad they will be to discover my determination now is stronger than ever to see their blood run beneath my feet. I will ensure the name they have given me of Tepes is with good reason.
I spoke at length with Nicolai about our next campaign. Word shall be sent to Corvinus to seek passage through his country. A new and fearsome tactic shall be employed this time in battle. Troops shall be sent far ahead to burn all that the Turks would find valuable. For this, I must have the blessing of Corvinus beforehand. For I would not trespass against him or his land without first having his consent. The path Radu shall take is an easy one to predict. It will be an easy pursuit. I intend to watch him slowly die for what he has done.
Ahbrim has sent our child away, fearful of what I have become and could inflict. I would never hurt my son, yet in some strange manner there is reasoning in his judgment. Mihnea will no doubt grow to be a fine ruler. Perhaps it is best if he never knows me, for I am no longer the man I once was; now I am something else.
In my darkness, I am forsaken…
Chapter Eleven
Vladimir Dracul’s Journal
1 May 1460
Brasov
This morning my army is dispatched to rid the world of the Saxon scourge that infiltrates this great nation and spreads the same as the Ottoman plague. We cut them into pieces like heads of cabbage with sword, saber, and dagger. Not one was given mercy. 28,334 of them we did slaughter, impale, and torture. Their goods are tainted, not worthy of being returned to Targoviste. The village was set ablaze while I dined amongst the dead on a feast of freshly slaughtered cattle and bread. I watched them writhe against the spikes, imploring that I show mercy and end their suffering. Why would I offer them peace and deliver them from death so that they might ascend to Heaven when Elisabeta was not offered the same? My son now resides in the House of Nasady and knows not the truth about his father. All that I have done has not stopped the sadness within my heart. With each life I have taken from those incestuous dogs that my brother Radu has taken to be his kin, I had hoped to fill the void left by her death. Now, in this state I exist, there is no rest for me or for her. In darkness we shall live, never together, always apart, for all eternity. What punishment is this? How could God turn from a creature so pious as my beloved in her darkest hour? How could he not fill her with the truth and allow her to know I lived, that it was a devilish lie? Why did Ahbrim not give her last rites as I employed him to do? How long must I suffer her death and the loneliness of a life without her before peace is given?
Vlad Dracul’s Journal
1 April 1462
Corvinus Castle
I find myself a prisoner of my own actions. It is not a true prison, for I come and I go as I please. It is the way of Matthias and his family to ensure my safety and protect me from the Turks and to put his own son on the throne. Such is the way of war. His favor shall be easily won once more given he has endorsed the marriage of Iiona Szilágyi, his cousin to be my wife. She is not Elisabeta and is far removed from her stature, yet she will make a dutiful wife and provide me sons; which is all that any man can ask for in this life. It is my hope that Matthias will see his way to release me and allow me to take my rightful place once more. Ahbrim has agreed to oversee the marriage ceremony despite his aversion to my current state on the fourteenth of this month. It has been nearly a year since I last looked upon him, and I cannot say the hatred within has lessened a drop since that moment. Rome, to me, is dead. Now I can only pray the strength can once again be found to be a dutiful and loving husband.
Vlad Dracul’s Journal
1 April 1463
Corvinus Castle
It is with the gladness of man both proud and humbled Iiona has given me a son, a fine son whom we have named Mircea after my beloved brother. What man could not find happiness in the eyes of his own child?
My heart longs for Wallachia and for the sport of war. Radu now reins as Prince Supreme at Merced’s side, spreading their lies and deceit across the Wallachian countryside, and tortures those who refuse to bend to his will. Why Matthias has not gone to their aid cannot be said.
Vlad Dracul’s Journal
18 July 1463
C
orvinus Castle
Iiona is once more with child, a son she says and is certain. She wishes to name him Vladimir to carry on the tradition of the name being handed down from Viovode to Viovode yet I am not certain this is the life both of my children should choose. Just as the decision was made for Belcor, it shall be made for one of my sons to reside with the Bishop at Oradea, not because I desire for one of my sons to serve God, but because the Baserab family must continue. Arrangements have been secured for the marriage of Mircea to Hungarian nobility, once he is of marrying age. I must know that my sons will continue to hold the title of Baserab and marry prominently into nobility. The Florescu family holds the Baserab in high regard.
Once our marriage was complete, my confines became more hospitable, though it cannot be said they were ever disagreeable. I have the freedom to travel anywhere within the King’s land and have found Matthias to be a beneficial captor unlike the Ottoman Horde.
It is for appearances, to appease the masses, yet this is a measure in which I find little understanding as to why it is chosen for a King should rule as a King and not succumb to those beneath him or his will. He should rule with an iron hand and a loving heart. Though many may speak of ill of my choices and what was done for my country, it was done to secure our borders, to return Wallachia to the shining jewel of the Carpathians, to protect those in my charge from harm. Never was it done with malice and not a single judgment was lain upon them that I myself would not have faced had my behavior been the same. Those who harbored those dogs of my brother, they were put to death in means that intended to deliver a distinct and immediate message.
During my rule, women were chaste until marriage. No man or woman coveted what his neighbor owned or possessed. Rape was not tolerated and hunger was eradicated. Thievery did not exist, and any noble or King could leave his gold in any street without worry or troubles. Perhaps, it can be said those methods were harsh. Perhaps, it can be said I agree, to a point, but what transpired, it happened before God and was done as a Servant of God to protect his Kingdom of Heaven and Earth and yet for this I was forsaken.
Chapter Twelve
Vlad Dracul’s Journal
9 June 1467
Corvinus Castle
I sat long this day, staring at the wall of my prison cell wondering how long this internment will last, if in the actions I have chosen, I have signed my own death warrant. The last six years are but a blur to me. My memories are filled with death and the blood of those who took her from me. Not a single day would I call back to me, nor is there regret or sorrow for the actions taken. My sons have survived and I am assured Iiona will be cared for after my death. Ahbrim’s presence only aggravates the irritation growing within me.
“How long your intention, Matthias Corvinus, of keeping me imprisoned? Have I not served your will as well as mine?” I asked.
“A formality in disguise to serve the will of others, cousin, as you know just as well as I the politics of war and kingship; a period of confinement to soothe the savage beast, a false execution, and you shall slip away into the darkness. Have I not provided all that is comfortable for your stay, including your bride and your sons?” Matthias replied.
“Have I not endured enough, Matthias? My own brother turned against his family, murdered his own father, showed no mercy in the execution of Mircea, and sides with those incestuous dogs. He murdered my wife. Did I not return the way of God to the region and instill his will upon the people? Was I not his soldier until even he turned against me? Now even you stand against me, you who were my staunchest loyalist,” I said in disgust.
“Is it not I who aids you now in your escape and hides you from the religious zealots of Ahbrim? Is it not I who will conceal that it is another whose headless body will lie in the grave and not yours? Do not forget in your anger who your true ally is, Vladimir.”
In my disgust, I threw the table across the room, smashing it into pieces. Matthias laughed at me and said, “Rash until the end.”
My anger lies not with Matthias, but with the foolish charade I am forced to embrace to soothe Radu and my betrayers. Matthias’ faithfulness and loyalty to the Order of the Dracul has not waivered, not once. He too, after all, is a Baserab.
My thoughts drift in my confinement toward Ahbrim, whether or not he has found solace in the arms of his faith, a faith I once embraced and can no longer turn toward. My grief is still too great and my being too filled with anger to consider absolution. I live without a wife and my son, Mihnea Rau knew not his mother.
I allow Matthias his belief he holds me captive. It is, of course, a lie I perpetuate. He knows just as well as I that if I wished to leave I would do so. It is for the best this way, the faking of my own death. For the vengeance I seek will taste so much sweeter, as will his blood upon my lips, when Radu sees his death in his own brother’s eyes as I look down upon him; a brother he believes to be dead.
There is sureness in knowing that Matthias will grant Ahbrim one last meeting. He must make his peace with God. Certainty will elude him if he cannot make one final attempt to save my soul, were it there for saving. No life beats within this body, a curse I willingly brought. Yet I have no remorse in what I have done. For was I not a Soldier of God? Did I not become the favored son of the Vatican leading the Crusade for Pope Pios? What was my reward? A penance that my Elisabeta should spend an eternity in Purgatory and damnation, that God would punish my beloved for taking her own life rather than fall into the hands of Godless men and be left unclean? My anger still precedes me as I write. I will never find forgiveness for myself, for I cannot find forgiveness for Ahbrim and his condemnation of her. I have no love left in my heart for him, nor for the God he serves. I know it is wrong and brings about my condemnation. I no longer care. I stopped caring the moment she left this world.
10 June 1467
Matthias visited early this morn. He was more nervous than usual in my presence, pacing about as though he wished to speak, but had not the courage.
“Say what it is you wish to say and stop pacing. The sound alone is deafening,” I screamed at him.
“Pope Pios sends Vedesti and Ahbrim for your last rites, Baserab.”
The anger welled in my face as I looked at him.
“How dare you allow him to be in my presence after what he has done? Until my last breath is taken, I am still the Viovode of Wallachia.”
My voice hissed from my body in despondent tones as though it were not my own. Matthias grew filled with fear, so deeply he could not breathe as he stood before me. The hair around his temples whitened as I laughed at him.
“It is the only way, Vladimir, for them to believe that all is as I have said.”
My laughter was wicked as I rolled my fingers at Matthias, beckoning him across the floor till he stood only inches from me.
“You think him so naïve he does not know? Ahbrim knows what I am, cousin. He has seen it firsthand. He comes to kill me. It is the manner in which he believes he can save my eternal soul. Make quick my replacement, Matthias, for I have grown weary of your company and my temper now grows.”
I sit here now as the light fades awaiting darkness. I will return to Poenari and wait for the moment my revenge shall be granted.
Ahbrim Baserab’s Journal
10 June 1467
The Road to Corvinus Castle
I have witnessed the horrors of Vladimir’s transformation, first at the hands of the Turks, then at his own hand. The darkness of his soul is deep, so deep I fear I may never be able to reach the light, which once resided there. My letters returned unopened; his refusal is adamant at my request to see him or consul him. Vladimir’s anger toward Elisabeta’s choice he holds against me and me alone, as though I am responsible. It was her actions alone that forbid her entrance to the Gates of Heaven, not mine, nor those of any other Priest in my charge at Poenari, yet he holds us responsible. I cannot open his heart to accept it is the will of God, not my own.
Mordecai has made many visits to Matthias, none
of which were well received. He is as disagreeable and willful as Vladimir, it would seem. Matthias is not pleased with the arrangement made between the Turks and the ruling Boyars. They wish to place an Ottoman on the throne as Viovode, the son of Radu. I fear he is not long for this world. Matthias will no doubt orchestrate an assassination that will not be able to be associated with his involvement. He is loyal to the Order to the end. I have no doubt he will arrange for Vladimir to escape.
Come first light, Mordecai and I shall travel to the House of Corvinus to offer last rights to Vladimir. I am sure I will be met with refusal, but still offer I must. He was my responsibility, and it was I alone that failed him.
14 June 1467
We arrived at the House of Corvinus late in the evening. Matthias was cold and unwavering in his greeting. He still believes the agreement Mordecai made to be against the will of the House of Baserab. I attempted at length to reason with him but he is most unreasonable. He feels Vladimir has been wronged. I cannot say I do not disagree, but given his choices and his willingness to turn away from God, he has chosen his own punishment.
Vladimir refused to speak to me upon our arrival. He said there were no words left between us. His was mood exceptionally foul as Mordecai read. I expected him to kill us both. Vladimir drove us from his room before we could finish. Even in death, he will have no rest.
Tomorrow at sunset, he is to be executed. I am astonished he continues to speak to Matthias given he is his captor. Perhaps it is his allegiance to the House of Baserab. In death may he find the peace he could not find in life. This is all that I can pray for, as his soul no longer can be saved. I must, in good judgment, do as has been done once before.
Memoirs of an Immortal Life Page 6