The Dracula Chronicles: Bound By Blood - Volume 2

by Shane KP O'Neill

  The guard nodded to two others. They carried the box while the man in charge walked with Ponti. Clement was quite receptive when he saw Ponti enter.

  “Marco,” he smiled, holding out his hand.

  Ponti dropped to one knee and bowed. He kissed the ring on the Pope’s outstretched hand. “Thank you for seeing me, Holy Father,” he said. “I know this is a difficult time for you. I will try and keep this meeting as brief as I can. But this is a matter of the utmost urgency and it could not wait.”

  “It is good to see you,” Clement said. “I have not seen many old friends of late.”

  “Yes I can see that. The Imperial troops still have a very strong presence nearby. But it is not a German army at least.”

  “The Emperor says they are for my protection. In truth I fear it is to keep me here as a prisoner.”

  “Surely he would not dare?”

  “Well, I am as good as that. What is it you have brought me? I am intrigued.”

  “Documents belonging to Niccolo Machiavelli.”

  “What? That man is a lunatic and a troublemaker.”

  “You should read them, Holy Father. Indeed, it is very important that you do. He has knowledge of a shocking development of which the Holy See must know.”

  “Very well,” Clement nodded. “I will read these documents.”

  “I will leave them in your care, Holy Father. My sons are waiting for me.”

  After he left Pucci joined him. “Are you going to read them, Holy Father?”

  “I certainly am not,” Clement growled. “That man Machiavelli is insane. I have enough to worry about without being drawn into his fantasy world.”

  “But Marco Ponti is a man of fine standing. He believes it.”

  “Signor Ponti is a good friend to Machiavelli. But I have no time for this.”

  “Then what will you have me do with the box, Holy Father?”

  “Put it with the other documents in the castle. Throw it in the river if you wish. But I do not want to see it.”

  England. Greenwich Palace in London.

  August 1527.

  Dracula finally made his move as the summer neared its end. Henry had just held another banquet at the palace. Many of his guests remained. They lay about the reception rooms sleeping off the effects of the large amounts of mead consumed.

  Henry bedded one of the kitchen maids. When he was done he sent her on her way. The usual spies lurked about the halls and corridors. They noted the comings and goings in each of the rooms. It was always valuable to know who was sleeping with whom.

  The girl who had slept with the king could hardly believe her luck. She had spent several hours in his bed. He had a ravenous appetite for her. She sloped off back to her own bed feeling she had gone a long way in securing his favour.

  Dracula watched her tiptoe along the corridor. Her thoughts amused him, but he pitied her. Both for the way the king had just used her and for the way she deluded herself that it would amount to anything. The two spies watching the king’s door turned their attention to the half naked girl. Dracula used it as his cue to enter Henry’s room unnoticed.

  He found the king dozing on the top of the bed. Henry was naked and snored loudly. He was exhausted from his sexual exploits and the consuming of much mead and wine.

  Dracula eyed him with a mixture of emotions. He took a moment to study his form. Henry had begun to display the early signs of excess. Indeed Dracula realised this was a man given to avarice. It showed.

  He respected Henry’s status and admired the way he dealt with insurrection. Henry could certainly exert his authority. But Dracula sensed he was not a likeable man. Those who surrounded him, he thought, pandered to his whims more out of fear than love. They were alike in that respect.

  Dracula sat there for close on an hour. Soon he grew tired of waiting. Henry could have slept all night. He followed his dreams for a time. But they often grew jumbled and confused.

  The face of a woman appeared regularly. A woman whom he called Anne. He saw that the king held her in high esteem yet she seemed out of his reach. Dracula grew tired of it. Henry showed signs of an erection. He obviously had designs on the woman. Finally, Dracula gave him a prod with his foot to stir him.

  At once Henry was on his guard. But, still half asleep, he looked confused and even a little frightened. He strained his eyes to see who had woken him. Dracula came into view. Embarrassed by his nakedness, he pulled hard at his blankets to cover himself.

  Dracula had expected him to be brash and even abusive. But the king showed no signs of any such bravado. The first impression he gave Dracula was that he did not possess the same resolve as Charles.

  When Henry was fully awake his confidence returned. “Who the Hell are you? What are you doing in my private chamber?”

  Dracula smiled. He wondered how or if Henry could deal with the truth. Certainly he did not look as though he would be as receptive to it as Charles had been. It would be interesting to see how he might react.

  His lack of a response angered the king. “Did you not hear me?” Henry growled at him. “I will have your head if you do not answer me.”

  “You need not threaten me, Majesty,” Dracula said, with real calm. “My head will not be resting on any of your chopping blocks.”

  Henry could not believe his ears. “You have a real cheek about you.”

  Dracula shrugged. The insult did not bother him.

  “And you certainly have no business in the King’s bedchamber.”

  “On the contrary,” Dracula said, turning away from the bed. He began to pace about the room. “I have business that will interest you.”

  Henry did not care. “How dare you turn your back on me! One word and my guards will swarm in here.”

  Dracula lifted Henry from the bed. In one swift motion he pinned the king to the ceiling and held him there. His movement was much too quick for Henry’s eye. “I think not, Majesty,” he snarled.

  In an instant he filled Henry with terror. The king fought for breath, the wind knocked out of him. His first thought was that the stranger would kill him. He pushed out with both hands against Dracula’s face. This only served to prompt the vampire into squeezing him harder against the ceiling.

  Henry turned blue around the mouth and so Dracula eased his grip. He threw him back down on the bed with a crash. Some of the wood beneath it splintered and cracked. He waited and watched while Henry coughed and choked. Finally the king sat up. He leaned over the edge of the bed and was sick.

  After a time Henry composed himself. With much of the alcohol out of his system he felt better. He eyed Dracula with a mixture of fear and contempt. His uninvited guest walked to the foot of the bed so he could look at him.

  “It is obvious you are no ordinary man.” He said it as though he had a bad taste in his mouth. “If you are a man at all.”

  “Quite,” Dracula said, not giving much away.

  “So who are you? What do you want with me?”

  “I want to see if you are capable of greatness.”

  “Of course I am. I am the King.”

  Dracula rolled his eyes. He wanted Henry to see his words did not impress him.

  “Or do you mean if I will do what you want me to do?”

  Dracula smiled. For the first time Henry showed him some quality. “That is not quite what I meant.”

  “Then what did you mean?”

  “A great man is one who can control his own destiny. And then fulfil it.”

  “And you think I cannot?”

  “You have shown nothing thus far.”

  Henry did not like the comment. Dracula could see as much from the look in his eyes. But he feared him. Otherwise he would have reacted.

  “You have used your status for one thing only.”

  “And that is?”

  “For a life of excess. Plenty of good food, wine and sex.”

  This time Henry did react. He clenched his fist and climbed from the bed.

  “Sit down. I do no
t want to have to hurt you.”

  Henry paused. With his fist still clenched he eased back down. “It is not right to afford me such disrespect. I am still the King.”

  “It is not my intention to offend you. But someone has to tell you a hard truth at some point in your life. Everyone around here seems too afraid to do so.”

  “But not you?”

  “No. I do not fear you.”

  “I can see that.”

  “But I will talk straight with you. You have achieved nothing.”

  “I defeated the Scots at Flodden. That is something.”

  Dracula sighed. “You leave yourself open to be wounded. It was your wife who defeated the Scots. I seem to recall you were fighting in France at the time, and losing.”

  Henry exhaled heavily. He looked as deflated as a man could. His face burned red with anger, but he eased back against his pillow and said nothing.

  Dracula turned again. He walked about the room for a few minutes.

  “It is not a good day when a man can be so insulted in his own home,” Henry moaned. “Who the Hell are you?”

  “Who I am is of little concern.”

  “It is to me! This is my house!”

  “Relax, Majesty.”

  “Do not tell me what to do!”

  Henry suffered another coughing fit. Dracula poured a cup of water and handed it to him. Henry drank it in one go. He held out the cup to his visitor. “More.”

  Dracula filled it a second time and Henry guzzled that down too. He seemed a little calmer now. Dracula paced about again. He wanted to tell Henry who he was, but was not sure if it was a good idea to do so.

  Henry followed him with his eyes. “You have entered my house and disturbed me in my bed. On another day a man would die for that. The very least you could do is identify yourself.”

  “I will tell you who I am. But I am not sure you can comprehend what I am.”

  “Try me.”

  “Yes,” Dracula mused. “You are quite the scholar.”

  Henry did not know if his visitor was being sarcastic. “It has been said, yes.”

  “I am Vlad Dracula of the House of Draculesti. Voivode of all Wallachia.”

  “The name is vaguely familiar to me. Should I know it?”

  “I held the same position in my homeland as you do in yours.”

  “I see. You were a king.”

  “Voivode.”

  “Well you are a long way from home. So why are you here? You are seeking help in regaining your throne?”

  “Hardly,” Dracula said. “I have not been a mortal man in fifty years.”

  Henry tried to stifle a laugh.

  “Do not mock me,” Dracula warned. “You have seen what I can do. Is there a man alive who could have done that?”

  “Then what are you? A ghost? A demon?”

  “Some would say I am a bit of the both.”

  “But what do you say?”

  “A bit of the both, but my heart still beats. It still pumps blood through my veins. Blood as blue as yours.”

  Henry struggled to recall what little he knew of east European history.

  “Do not worry over it,” Dracula said. “Know that I am who I say I am.”

  “You can read my thoughts?”

  “Yes.”

  “I do not know if I like that. A man’s thoughts should be his own.”

  “It is how it is. You might as well accept it.”

  “Very well,” Henry said. “What brings you to me?”

  “Curiosity mostly.”

  “You are here because you are curious?”

  “Yes and no.”

  “So what else is it then?”

  “Where I have spent the last seven years your name is often spoken.”

  “Oh?” Henry said, his own curiosity rearing its head. “And where was that?”

  “In Castile. With the young Emperor.”

  Henry’s face reddened. Dracula could see he envied his younger rival. He disliked him too. “What do they say about me? What does Charles say?”

  Dracula realised the extent of the vanity in Henry and knew he could use it to his advantage. For that reason he decided to play up to it.

  His mood soured while he awaited an answer. “Well? Is it good or bad?”

  “Your name commands respect,” Dracula lied. He enjoyed the smug grin that appeared on Henry’s face. “But there are some who do not compare you favourably with the young Emperor.”

  “Oh?” he said, as though shocked. “Why would they do that?”

  “Because Charles has defeated the mighty France in the Italian wars. And he controls the Pope.”

  “This is true,” Henry nodded. “But he has a mighty empire behind him.”

  “These people see a strange irony in it all.”

  “Oh?” he said again, keen to know more.

  “It amuses them that Charles has the Pope under his thumb. The same Pope you will be needing to seek a dispensation from to annul your marriage.”

  “They know about that?”

  “Of course they do. Charles is, after all, your nephew.”

  “Yes, indeed,” Henry said, thinking about what Dracula had said. “I could always ignore Rome.”

  “Yes you could. You are the King.”

  “Yes. I am the King,” Henry said, puffing out his chest. “I need answer to God and only to God.”

  “But it is because you are a king that you must keep your integrity. To act without the approval of the Pope could damage that. Perhaps fatally.”

  “You think Spain would go to war with me?”

  “There is a chance of that yes. It depends on what you do.”

  “Hmmm,” Henry grumbled, digesting what Dracula had said to him. “What do you suggest I do?”

  “The most important thing is to have your way in this matter. You are the King. You cannot let the world see you humbled or dictated to.”

  “Quite right,” Henry agreed.

  “Do things the right way. But show men like Charles and Francois that you are strong and forthright.”

  “They already know it. Have you seen them attacking my shores?”

  “They might think you weak though. You have not participated in any of the great conflicts in Europe.”

  “Those were not my business. Let them fight over the Italian states. Who cares?”

  “You still have to show them you are as strong as they.”

  “Yes. Well I am,” Henry said. He raised his voice as though he was seeking confirmation of it.

  “Yes,” Dracula smiled. “You are a great King. I will be proud to serve you.”

  “You wish to serve me?”

  “Why else would I be here?” Dracula said, looking him straight in the eye. “I served the Emperor well. I can do the same for you.”

  “What service did you give to Charles?”

  “I advised him from early in his reign. Then I led his armies at Pavia.”

  “You did?” Henry asked, his respect for Dracula increasing by the moment.

  “Yes I did. It was a crushing victory.”

  “So I heard.”

  “I helped make Charles the most powerful ruler in all of Europe.”

  “And you think you can do the same for me?”

  “Well, I do not envisage you engaging in any great conflicts.”

  “Is that such a bad thing?”

  “No. They are not always necessary. And they cost a lot of money.”

  “Indeed. But why would you want to help me?”

  “Why not? I need a fresh challenge. I can still help you to become a great King. And a wealthy one to boot.”

  Henry believed Dracula could deliver on his promises. “What do you propose we do then?” he asked, looking for guidance.

  “First I recommend that you write to the Pope and ask for an annulment. It is the correct course of action.”

  “I can tell you this. He will not grant it.”

  “Do it the right way. Then it would be exped
ient to separate from your wife.”

  Henry became lost in thought. “Poor, Catherine. She will not be happy.”

  “While she remains here in the palace it gives the Pope an excuse to deny you what you want.”

  Henry did not like to hurt his wife. Deep down he loved her still. But he wanted Anne Boleyn and he needed a male heir.

  “I know you do not want to hurt your wife.”

  “No I do not. She is a good woman. A great woman.”

  “But she is no longer in any position to give you an heir.”

  “I know,” Henry sighed. “I hardly need reminding of that.”

  “England needs a male heir. That has to come above all else.”

  Henry nodded. He saw Dracula knew what he was talking about.

  “I know the concerns of your father. You must adhere to them. He only wanted what was best for you and for England. If you do not produce a male heir then all his years of toil will have been in vain.”

  “I know,” Henry agreed. “You are right.”

  “Quote scripture in your application.”

  “You think it will help?”

  “I know it. The original dispensation you were granted to marry was illegal.”

  “What?”

  “Say the proof of it is in the Bible.”

  “Where does it say that?”

  Dracula half smiled. He had quoted this in the letter he concocted for Charles. “Leviticus. If a man shall take his brother’s wife it is an unclean thing…they shall be childless.”

  Henry thought he knew the Bible well. That verse had escaped his attention. “That is what it says?”

  “Yes. That is what it says. You can read it for yourself.”

  “I will.”

  “You know you can have sons. You have a bastard. Let that be your proof.”

  Henry gave him a sharp look. “Yes, yes. That is what I will do.”

  “Do that and send your wife away. If she resists apply pressure by granting vast estates to your son. Make it look as though you are going to declare him your heir.”

  “But he cannot succeed me. As you say, he is a bastard.”

  “Make them think that he can. You are the King. Your word is law.”

  “Yes. I am the law. But there will be opposition.”

  “Would any man dare oppose you?”

  “No. I imagine no man would.”