I am still trying to find people in camp who have at least known someone who’d witnessed one of these demons, if they exist beyond the common imagination—which I am skeptical about. We do have some Wallachians among the mercenaries of Mátyás, and some of the better-armed locals have also joined our fight since we started our northward march, but my questions mostly result in confusion. Indeed, it is hard to explain my sudden interest without disclosing yours—the things I do for a good friend!
Pray for me,
Galeotto
P.S.—I do not understand your query about the bedding.
Letter from Jakab Mendel the Elder to Rabbi Izsák the Scribe
With the Aid of the Heavens
The 28th of Elul, the year 5236 since Creation
September 17, 1476
Esteemed Rabbi Izsák,
I wish you to be written and stamped for a good year in the Book of Life, and a blessed High Holy Days season—I know that with your age and your difficulty walking, the complications of this busy time amplify a hundredfold. I do beg you not to try to stand for all the Yom Kippur prayers, like you did three years ago.
I am growing concerned I have not heard from you, but G-d willing my news will soon be in front of your eyes.
My informers in Vlad’s army are reporting great victories in battle, and odd events—yet no one has connected these to the legends of the Gentile nations about blood-drinking creatures. No one thinks Vlad’s cruelty is out of the ordinary, for the reason that it is not—he is likely no better or worse than other Christian leaders across Europe waging war on the Turks. He has a reputation as a great warrior, they see him in camp and draw courage from his heroic deeds; even if he is mostly out after dusk and before dawn. If on occasion a corpse is found, sucked dry of blood, that can be attributed to any number of malevolent beings that lurk in the Carpathian woods, or even wild animals that still present a danger.
Yet in the letters Majsi has intercepted, some copies of which I am sending, there is an amount of consternation—Vlad seems to be preparing to stage his death, as far as I can tell, and also creating for himself a kind of fictitious family with a widow and heirs. All the footsoldiers would attest that he has had no family with him on the march, but history is not written by the common folk, and Gentile historians will continue to claim what is expedient, as we know all too well. I have no inkling as to what Vlad is planning after he regains his rightful domain, for he seems not to be preparing to govern it again.
In the meanwhile, Mátyás is getting ready to wed Beatrix of Aragon, and I dearly wish Galeotto could still tell me his many courtly tales from the heart of events. The stories reaching me from Italian lands are contradictory and none too positive. I had told the King myself that he ought to marry again, so I should be glad he had finally taken my advice; but I had not expected he would choose such a bride as Beatrix, rumoured to have killed at least one of her previous lovers. The King has been favourably disposed toward Jews, but who knows if that will continue, were Beatrix to sway his heart in the direction of hatred? Or could one say that one creature of the Other Side is drawn to another? I wonder if Beatrix is also an estrie, and these beings are getting ready for a general congress in Magyar lands.
The King has been gloomy, but not hostile to me or our people in the slightest. He has personally asked his majordomo to coordinate with me in great detail about the upcoming festivities, and the Jewish community has been invited to the great marriage parade to present our gifts and blessings.
I am arming all my young men chosen for the wedding march—I had trustworthy weaponsmiths make them swords carrying the blessings you specified. My son Jakab Mendel the Younger will also join the march as a trumpet-player—please pray for his soul as well as all of ours.
With peace,
Jakab Mendel the Elder
The following letters were enclosed with the above:
October 23, 1476
Dear Mátyás,
I try to restrain myself in these letters. I miss you, and yet.
Wallachia will fall again without me. I understand what you ask and why, but this is too large a sacrifice. Do you simply need me close, or do you truly want me close? We have an eternity ahead of us, but what kind of eternity will it be?
Why is it that my death must be staged first? Will you let go of the Crown of Hungary later? We cannot show ourselves in the open forever. People will talk. They already talk—I have exercised the utmost caution, and yet there is word of monsters in camp. That oaf Galeotto seems especially fascinated by these tales. He used to be friendly with me, even after that conflict with Janus; but I feel he is eyeing me with suspicion. The friendliness is gone, and in its place a cautious respect. I cannot say I prefer this. I build up my myth, the legend of the bloodthirsty Vlad, the impaler lord. I have good foundation to build it on, thanks to the tales of terror people have been spreading—as far away as Provence!—while I was held in arrest. The legend makes people fear me, but they draw away from me—all draw away from me, save you. And I can’t help finding the merciless conveniencein this.
I understand we cannot let go of our lands at the same time—the region would be weakened, ripe for invasion. And I know you want me to rule with you, as much as possible—even if under a different name, a different face. I understand you want me to learn the ways of our kind from you.
I just need to know if you ever considered me an equal.
Yours,
Vlad
October 25, 1476
My dear friend Galeotto,
These are the notes I promised during our last discussion, to help you in your work.
We will need stories and detailed descriptions of my wife—Mátyás has a cousin who assented to this. Her name is Jusztina and she will be at your service once you return from this campaign. (Do stay alive; we need a storyteller, and a merchant of rumours.) Please discuss all the details with her about our family life. I would rather not leave her at the mercy of your galloping imagination.
You also need to invent my children, two at least, three is also good. I leave the details to you. It would be good if you could find at least two capable young men who can lay claim to Wallachia after I’m gone. I would prefer if they retook it by force, to prove their ability to hold onto it.
Any further children can be entirely fictitious.
I would like my family name passed on also in Hungary. You can produce some more distant relatives, but make sure they do not come across my actual relatives in Wallachia, especially my brother Radu. A larger Hungarian town beyond the Danube would be preferable, maybe Pécs or Győr? Though I’ve never been to Győr.
All this would serve our purposes splendidly. I will convey your regards to the King.
Wishing you good work,
Your grateful friend Vlad
Letter from Majsi son of József to Jakab Mendel the Elder
The 12th of Kislev, the year 5237 since Creation (I did it right this time!)
To the Prefect,
Happy new Year and happy Chanukah in advance! I am sorry I haven’t been in touch, but we had such a triumph!! Vlad has reclaimed Wallachia! He chased away that Ottoman-backed pretender and all is well. There was all sorts of jubilant marching and a coronation and all that good stuff! I would love to make it back in time for the new Queen’s coronation because to have two events like this one after the other, that would be great! There was also a separate celebration of the alliance with István the Third the Moldavian. I am totally not eating pork! …But it is tempting.
Vlad has been asking me if I could reach you. No I don’t know what he wants or why he wants to talk to you! I’m a bit scared. I think he wants your help. Or my help? My help in getting your help, I think. He said “Fret not, I’m going to write the letter” because I still don’t think he realizes I can read and write. But I do think he likes me for some reason.
I will just send the letter once I have it!
I am missing home.
I have been s
neakily looking at his bedding and I can report he has a giant sack of something underneath it. It looks like a bag of manure that people spread on their fields for a better harvest, but it does not smell as bad. Though perhaps I am losing my sense of smell in all this military campaigning.
If you are worried, he is not noticing me. I am quite sure of this!
With peace and blessings (I am getting better at this!) Majsi.
Letter from Jakab Mendel the Elder to Majsi son of József
With the aid of the Heavens.
The 24th of Kislev, the year 5237 since Creation
December 10, 1476
My dear Majsi,
I have not received any further letters from you, and I pray every day for your safety. I hope you are doing well, and G-d willing will be among us soon, in time for the royal wedding. The King has asked me and the Jews of Buda to lead the entire wedding march. I am afraid this honour will have a corresponding price.
Have you read Vlad’s message before passing it on? I only received your words. Do you know what he was planning on asking me?
Wishing you all the best, with great worry,
Jakab Mendel the Elder.
Letter from Jakab Mendel the Elder to King Mátyás of Hungary
With the aid of the Heavens
The 25th of Kislev, the year 5237 since Creation
December 11, 1476
To the King,
I hereby petition your Royal Personage to allow me to leave my duties in Buda Castle for a fortnight—I have an urgent need to travel in order to pursue some extremely pressing family matters. My secretary has been appraised of the ongoing financial issues and my brief leave should entail no disruption, if the Heavens so desire.
I beseech you to look upon me with favour,
Jakab Mendel the Elder, Prefect of All Jews in the Hungarian Kingdom
Letter from Jakab Mendel the Elder to Rabbi Izsák the Scribe
With the aid of the Heavens
The 26th of Kislev, the year 5237 since Creation
December 12, 1476
Esteemed Rabbi Izsák, my dear friend,
I am wishing you a blessed Chanukah, though by the time this letter reaches you, the festivities will be over. Every time I light a candle, I think of you and the light you continue to bring to the world; a light that is sorely needed.
I hope your health is improving; please find with this letter salts from the Istrian salt ponds and use them for your benefit. Access to the South has been haphazard at best, but I made use of my connections—your wellbeing is of utmost concern.
I have not been able to reach Majsi and I fear the worst. This morning I have finally obtained a travel permit from the Court and I will try to join the returning armies, which are in disarray.
Vlad has allegedly been murdered by Turkish assassins in murky circumstances, but I believe he will return to the Court in hiding and disguise. I need to make certain that amidst all the confusion, my nephew arrives back in Buda Castle safe and sound. If I need to use some of the discretionary funds, so be it. We learned much about the Court already, though this has not been a knowledge that is pleasing to the soul, unlike your own learning.
Beatrix will soon arrive from Italian lands. Once I safely return, together with Majsi if the Heavens will it so, I will make use of your advice and present sacred items among the gifts. I was thinking of a Torah scroll with an ornate cover. If she is likewise an agent of the Other Side, she will draw away from the scroll. I know the King well and he will be cautious enough to keep his distance, but Beatrix might not know as much about us Jews as he does.
If one can believe the paintings, the future Queen has long, flowing hair; though this is likely not a rarity among Italian Gentile women.
I shall do my best to keep you informed. I am growing concerned at not hearing from you.
In peace,
Jakab Mendel the Elder
Letter from Jakab Mendel the Elder to Rabbi Izsák the Scribe
With the aid of the Heavens
The [illegible], the year 5237 since Creation
December 20, 1476
Esteemed Rabbi Izsák, my dear friend,
I am writing this with fingers cramped from the cold. We have been on the march, and will soon reach Buda Castle—I might only be able to send this letter from there, but I need to write down all that I had experienced, so that none of it is lost to the vagaries of memory.
I have located Majsi. He, in turn, has lost Vlad—all he had for me was a handful of rich black earth, tied up in a handkerchief. I told the boy that his safety meant more to me than any kind of information he could gather, but he was inconsolable—he still thinks of all that transpired as his personal fault.
He saw the assassination.
Whether it was an assassination is open to interpretation, for it all happened late at night, illuminated only by lightning strikes in the storm raging above. I shall do my best to recount the events as accurately as I can, exactly as I heard them from my young nephew:
Majsi was sitting in the tent, wrapped in a rough blanket and shivering from the cold. Vlad of Wallachia was restless, unable to retire to sleep. Earlier he had let in Majsi so as to preserve him from the cold, and my nephew was wondering if his presence interrupted the bedtime rituals of the lord—rituals he could only speculate about.
The lord ventured outside and circled the tent like a hungry wolf. The lightning cast his silhouette plainly on the wall of the tent, and Majsi was terrified, for it had seemed to him that in this witching hour the lord had begun to change into something inhuman. Yet Majsi had trouble pinning down the details—Vlad retained his human form, by and large, but his limbs lengthened and his stride elongated. He also made a hacking sound as if he had been dying of consumption, when he had in fact been in the prime of his health.
Suddenly he roared—like a wolf, or perhaps even a lion. He lifted his arms against the night sky and his fingers were sharp as talons.
Majsi could see two more figures appear, and there was a consternation, and yelling in a tongue unfamiliar to him, [the rest of the paragraph is illegible]
A fight broke out. My nephew crawled to the far side of the tent and hid himself in a pile of garments and assorted pieces of military equipment. It occurred to him that perhaps he should have hidden himself in the bedding, maybe even in the curious sack underneath everything, but he did not do so—and this was truly the work of divine providence, for next the two men broke into the tent and struck the bed with polearms of some sort.
What had they been expecting to find? Whatever they had sought, they could not succeed in their [illegible], for Vlad himself returned at this moment, tearing the tent-flap wide open. He proceeded to slaughter the invaders with his bare hands, and as Majsi trembled in his hiding place, he became more and more certain that he was not witnessing something pre-planned, but rather something gone terribly awry.
Vlad wiped blood and gore off his forearms, reached into the beddings to open the sack, and took a deep breath. Then he closed it again, hoisted it on his shoulders, and vanished again into the frosty night outside.
Majsi crawled out and picked up a clump of earth where it had fallen after Vlad lifted the sack. He had expected some kind of treasure, a sack full of golden coins, but if there had been [illegible] inside, it had been carefully hidden under a thick layer of earth.
Majsi stole a kerchief and put the clump into it, then sneaked out—he could not spend a moment more amidst all the blood that had been shed, and he was too terrified to follow Vlad.
Since the events of that night, Vlad of Wallachia has not been seen again.
I am convinced Majsi reported what he saw accurately, but I am not certain what it is he witnessed. If this was Vlad’s staged assassination, something had gone wrong with it, leaving him to flee. He had meant to exit his own legend of a life, but surely not by such crude means.
Can you advise me on this? I shall do my hardest to comfort Majsi, who has been terribly shaken. I a
sked a scholar about the clump, a Catholic priest who is knowledgeable about farming, and he thought its consistency and colour was not characteristic of the Pest-Buda area. Wherever it had come from, it must have been transported from far off. Maybe you are aware of such mystical practices?
I am also concerned about Majsi’s anguish over losing the lord. He seems to have grown attached to him—even aware of the monster’s true nature. He tells me he’s only worried he let Vlad out of his sight, as it was his responsibility to keep an eye on the lord, but I feel there is more to it. If you could advise, I would be exceedingly grateful.
All the best,
Jakab Mendel the Elder
Letter from Galeotto Marzio to Jakab Mendel the Elder
Dracula Page 4