The Dracula Chronicles: Bound By Blood

by Shane KP O'Neill

  Andrei continued to gaze into his eyes.

  “Who are you? I know you are compelled to tell me.”

  “I am your twin soul,” was the solemn reply.

  The horses in the camp grew restless. They pulled hard on their restraints in an attempt to break free. Andrei’s sons ignored them, remaining close to their father’s side. The women and children in the tents grew frightened. They knew something bad was in the air. Andrei kept his calm. He sat and waited, giving his brother time to ponder over an answer.

  When it did not come, he stood up. “You and I were born in the same breath. We came from the same seed.”

  “You are speaking in riddles,” Ilona said in a low growl.

  “We are the sons of Vlad Dracul,” he said. “We breathed life for the first time in the very same moment.”

  Dracula’s confusion was apparent to all. “How is that so?”

  Varkal grinned for the first time in a while. He looked at the one whose wife he had his eye on. “That would make you and I cousins.”

  “It is so,” Andrei said over him.

  He stood up and joined hands with his six sons. They formed a circle away from the fire near to the tents. The women huddled with their children inside them, watching their men join hands close by.

  “It had to be so,” Andrei went on. “In the great scheme of things, there has to be a balance to you. That is what I am.”

  Dracula stood up with Ilona at his side. He met Andrei’s eye again.

  “You are the living dead,” Andrei said. “And I am your opposite. I shall enter this world time and time again, till the day I destroy you. And I shall destroy you.”

  Andrei closed his eyes and bowed his head. The children began to cry one after another. They feared the dark and the cold. The women broke into prayer.

  The wind picked up strongly around the gypsies and threatened to pull them down. The skies opened above and rained down on the camp. Despite this, they stood firm. The women held their children tight and crouched down.

  The rain dowsed the fire and plunged the camp into darkness. Plumes of smoke rose into the air where the ashes hissed and spat. The three vampires stood together, a little unsure of themselves for the first time. Their thirst grew ever stronger with so much untouched blood to feast on.

  Dracula burned inside with hatred and anger. “Kill them all,” he said to the others. “Spare no one.”

  His words filtered through to Andrei. The elder gripped hard on the hands of his sons to either side. They did the same until all seven men formed a solid chain. The seven cleared their minds and thought as one. This they did just as the vampires set upon them.

  The force with which Dracula pounced on Andrei was enough to crush the spine of any man. This time, it did not happen. An invisible force repelled him and threw him back violently through the air. He hit a tree behind him so hard that it almost knocked him out cold.

  The same force drove Ilona and Varkal back too. They ended up tangled in the undergrowth at the edge of the clearing.

  The wind grew stronger still and rose up into a whirlwind around the tribe. Dracula eyed it with fear as he dusted himself down and gathered his senses. He attempted a second assault on Andrei without success. Dazed and confused, he sat on his rear and glared at the gypsies. They remained steadfast with their eyes closed.

  The rain pounded down all around them. Dracula got to his feet again. He felt both angry and bewildered. None of it made any sense to him.

  “Yes, Brother,” Andrei said, his voice amplified over the noise of the wind. “You are here for one reason alone this night. That is to know that I exist. Know your air of invincibility is with you no more. For I shall destroy you.”

  Dracula felt his heart pound. The one who called him brother could read his mind. He turned away to leave. Andrei called after him. His voice he could not escape.

  “I am the Keeper of the Seven Keys,” he told him. “I am to be reborn, as shall my children who stand around me. Our time shall come again, Vlad Dracula, when I shall seek you out. But for the now, get thee from my sight.”

  WALLACHIA. THE MAGLAK VILLAGE AT THE

  FOOT OF THE CARPATHIAN MOUNTAINS.

  JANUARY 1, 1500.

  The fierce men of the Maglak tribe were legends in battle. They had served as Dracula’s bodyguard from early in his reign. Their descent was a mix of the Szeklers of Hungary and Rom gypsies from India. This reflected in their dark skin.

  Those who survived Snagov retired from service. Dracula was dead. With him gone, they had no purpose. He was their master and through their loyalty to him, they would serve no other. They settled with their loved ones on the lands he had given them. These were set near to the foothills below his castle.

  The castle had been derelict for some time and no one had lived in it since Radu sacked it in 1462. Its outline still loomed high on the mountain. There to guard the mountain passes, it stood as a grim reminder of the tyrant who had built it.

  Many of them remembered the events of that night at Snagov. However, a lot of time had passed since then. Few of them were truly certain as to what had happened. No Maglak entered the chapel before he had emerged from it. Over time, the numbers of those who had been there diminished. It meant the story of Dracula’s death became more and more a legend.

  They heard, too, the story of Ilona Szilágy. Many said she walked with her husband by night. They thought the two were together in death to prey on the living. This saw the couple blamed for thousands of deaths across the country. Other stories spoke of a third. The Maglaks knew it to be true. The legends called them vampyr, or Nosferatu. That meant creature of the night.

  The Maglaks fell victim to them too. Many a member of the tribe had met death by the vampire bite. A lone vampire had preyed on them for a few years. He left their broken corpses to rot in the same spot where he had fed on them. The attacks had grown in number in recent months. They decided it was time to fight back.

  It all gave way to much fear and superstition. They resorted to varying means to protect themselves. Some of them hung crucifixes from their doors. Others did the same with cloves of garlic over their windows. They believed it the only way to ward off evil entities. When any of them went out after dark, they travelled in numbers and armed themselves. They ate holy bread and had a blessing with holy water.

  More legends rose up about the vampyr. People feared their victims would come back from the grave. The Maglaks had seen this happen with their own, some of their dead returning as the most hideous of beasts. For this reason, they cut the heads off the dead. They stuffed the mouths with garlic and buried them on holy ground.

  The people stayed well away from the castle. They believed the vampyr used it as a lair, for its remote location. These superstitions spread far and wide. In time, the whole of the Balkans adopted it as part of its folklore.

  The Maglaks retained their strong military traditions. The men laboured hard to pass on their skills. New infant males learned these from the time they could walk.

  Some others left the tribe. They gave their services to boyars in different areas of the country. More of them went farther afield to ply their trade.

  On the whole, they turned to agriculture as a means to survive. They built farms in the area where they had settled and tilled the land.

  The most senior one of them in Dracula’s regime led the tribe. He took on the role of vataf. It was an old gypsy word that meant tribal chief or leader. The vataf set up a Council as soon as he was in control. The Council was comprised of the five adult male members in his family. They met on the first day of each lunar month. The six of them decided any new laws and discussed the business of the tribe. It was they who agreed to a marriage between any two of their people. Despite this, the vataf remained the true authority. His word was final. It was this rigid format and ongoing military tradition that ensured they survived.

  The people led a humble life, and the vataf allowed them few luxuries. They kept their faith and
lived by their strict religious codes. He did allow them to celebrate each of the religious feasts. Today was the New Year. More important than that, it was the first day of the new century.

  The soothsayers far and wide had preached their usual omens of doom. The Maglaks paid them no heed. They found life tough enough as it was. Today, the vataf allowed his people to relax and celebrate. He thought it would be good for them. The festivities carried on well after sunset. It was the first sound to greet Dracula’s ears when he awoke.

  The vataf smiled as he watched his people make merry. He knew he should allow it more often. They needed a release like this from time to time. The darkness was a concern for him, though. For that reason, all men who could bear arms, did so.

  Karul, the eldest man in the tribe, advised it was the son of Dracula who haunted them. The vataf knew Karul had a gift for seeing things. That was why he listened to him. The elder was rarely, if ever, wrong. Then he heard it, a scream that rang out in the hills above. The music stopped and, with it, his people stopped dancing.

  “Did you hear that, Vataf?” one of the men asked.

  “Yes, I heard it.”

  “What should we do?”

  “Move the women and children into the communal hall. They can resume there.”

  The man saw to it. He and the others herded the women and children inside. Just as the last one went in, the heavens opened. Rain like they had not seen in years fell in a deluge upon them.

  The vataf and many of the other men took cover, but remained outside. They looked up to the hills, knowing something was not right. A storm had erupted higher up in the forest. It was like nothing they had ever seen. A tornado-like funnel rose up from the trees to the night sky. It uprooted dozens of the pines and tossed them through the air. The men feared it, but stood firm. Karul joined them outside.

  “You have woken, then?”

  “Yes, Vataf,” Karul answered, his face serious.

  “Look at that,” the vataf said, pointing to the swirling mass.

  Karul gave his leader a knowing look. “Yes, it is to be a night of surprises.”

  “You had a dream?”

  The elder nodded that he had.

  “Then speak to me.”

  “There is an army only a few days away.”

  “To whom does it belong?”

  “A boyar named Caliu.”

  “Who is he?”

  “He is a friend of the voivode, Radu cel Mare.”

  “The son of Calugarul?”

  “Yes, Vataf.”

  “Are they coming here?”

  “Yes, to kill us one and all.”

  “Do you know the reason?”

  “It is no secret that we once served Dracula. They want to purge us for that. For that, and for the colour of our skin.”

  “That was a long time past. Our people serve no master.”

  “It matters not, Vataf. They are coming to kill us all.”

  “Do you know how many men?”

  “Five times our number.”

  “Then we need to prepare. We must take the women and children to safety.”

  “We have one other option, Vataf.”

  “You have my attention. What is it?”

  “Dracula.”

  The vataf screwed his face into a scowl. “Are you mad? What option does he give us?”

  “He shall soon be here.”

  “You have seen him?”

  “Only in my dreams. He wants a return to the old days.”

  “I am confused. He is dead.”

  “Vataf, you know he walks among us again. He passed over and came back.”

  “He has designs on the throne?”

  “No, but he wants the closeness with our people restored.”

  “After all his kin have done to us?”

  “Yes, we have little choice.”

  “It is not good for our people.”

  “It might be all that saves us.”

  Dracula’s mind was a haze. The weather forced him and the others to remain at ground level as they moved down the valley. Should they rise above the level of the trees then they risked the force of the winds sweeping them away. Thoughts of the old gypsy filled his mind. Even now, he could not drown out the voice of the elder.

  Why did Lucifer not tell me of this? He should have prepared me for it. Anger replaced his fear for a moment. It soon gave way to reason. Perhaps Lucifer did not know. He thought of this for a moment and then back to the elder. There was no resemblance between them that he could see. Yet he knew the elder had spoken the truth. He knows me. He had expected me to come.

  It worried him. For sure, it had put a whole new perspective on things. There was one who could challenge his supremacy over man. This one was going to be born over and over again.

  He mulled over the conversation. How could the elder read my mind when I could not read his? Are the powers that be redressing an imbalance? It was the only reason he could think of. He had powers that no man could match. It was certain that the elder’s powers were more of the mind than the body. He had received them from the other side, though. From God. And that worried him.

  He moved at a breakneck pace through the trees. The other two struggled to match it, and Varkal took more care now to avoid a repeat of his earlier misfortune. They sensed his thoughts and fears, and felt them too. The turn of events had equally troubled them. Dracula consoled himself with the fact that the elder was still a mortal. He could kill him. As he entered the Maglak village, he vowed he would one day destroy his new foe.

  The Maglak men stood out in the rain with swords poised. It continued to hammer down, and the winds from higher up the valley drove it into their faces. They stood firm, though, expecting the imminent arrival of the three vampires. It still startled them, to a man, when the vampires touched down close by. They moved into battle stance. These monsters were not claiming any of their loved ones without a fight.

  The vataf motioned to them to hold. Dracula scanned them all as he approached. He saw they were prepared to die to deny him. They had not changed. Even after twenty or more years, they remained the same brave and noble warriors who had served him so well.

  In spite of their courage, their fear of him filtered through. It touched his every nerve and sinew. He found it intoxicating as always, but he put it out of his mind and turned to the vataf. Hurting them was not his reason to be here. He gestured to the vataf with his hand as the tribal chieftain met his gaze through the rain.

  The vataf glared at him, defiant to the last. In spite of what Karul had said, he did not intend to make it easy for the vampire. “You are not welcome in this place. What is it that you want?”

  “We mean you no harm,” Dracula assured him. “I have come only to talk.”

  The vataf looked beyond him, to the others. His focus fell on Varkal. “That is true of him, too?” When Dracula nodded, he said, “Then talk.”

  “Our past and future are entwined. It gives us much to discuss.”

  “I cannot see that we have much to say to each other.”

  “That is where you are mistaken.”

  “My people served you loyally for so long. Yet you have brought us only death.”

  “This I cannot deny.”

  “So why should I believe anything you have to say?”

  “It is your choice. We can leave, if you prefer?”

  “No, say what you have come to say.”

  “It has been hard for me, too, to understand what I have become. That aside, from this day forward, I make a solemn vow. No person who carries Maglak blood shall suffer at the hands of any of my kind.”

  “You know it is hard for me to trust you.”

  “I would not expect you to feel any other way.”

  “I cannot risk the lives of my people.”

  “I know this, but my word stands.”

  “Promises count for so little in these troubled times. Your promises, most of all, do not carry much weight.”

  “Your fat
her knew me well. He knew I was a man of my word.”

  “I know this. He spoke of you often, but you are no longer a man.”

  “This is true, though I retain my honour. That has not changed; nor shall it ever.”

  “Only time shall tell.”

  “Your days of living in fear of us are at an end. What we agree or do not agree on this night does not alter that. That is my word.”

  The vataf nodded. “That one over there has brought much misery to my people. We have seen him. He comes like a wolf in the night.”

  He turned to glance at his son. “He shall not trouble you anymore. From this day forward, it is his task to protect you.”

  “You spoke of the future?”

  “Yes,” Dracula said, smiling for the first time.

  The vataf did not follow suit. “No one can see to the future.”

  “The elder there can. I see he has the eye.”

  Dracula scanned him. He saw the old man’s vision of an invading army.

  “What of the future?” Karul asked him.

  “Our paths are destined to run side by side,” Dracula said. “I shall give recompense. For your losses, and the loyal service your people have given me.”

  “How can you compensate us for that?”

  “I can save those of you who remain. Many of the boyars spit on your existence. Even when I ruled, there were those with prejudice.”

  “Do you know something that I do not?”

  “An army is on its way here to destroy you, but I am sure you know of it.”

  “And you believe you can stop it?”

  “Side by side, we shall kill every last one of them.”

  “They number five to our one.”

  “I shall observe them later. On the morrow, we can plan our strategy for battle.”

  The vataf agreed. There was no other way his men could take on and defeat such a number. “You must want something from us in return?”

  Dracula nodded. “I do not ask for much, but I ask it all the same.”

  “What is it you want from us?”

  “On the occasion I need you to watch over us by day, you must do so. That is it.”

  The vataf agreed the terms. “You shall keep us safe, if we do the same for you?”