Mihai and the Ottoman army parted. Mihai had seen the madness spread before. He had made a pact with the devils – us…but he knew better than to let it spread among his own force.
We were terrible on that day. Our wounds healed as we drank the blood of the army.
They pushed forward, their entire force concentrated on our small army of a mere thousand, but we were a rock that stood firm against the crashing waves of men that charged against us. We were immovable, standing back to back, slashing and hewing limbs from the enemy as they fell against us time and time again.
The battle raged for three hours, but in my hunger it seemed like it was only minutes. They came with pike and spear and sword and pierced our bodies and hacked our arms but we healed in the spraying blood and only a few of our thousand fell when their heads were lopped off. The rest of us fought on, until, surrounding us, their survivors turned to snarling beasts and the Ottoman could fight us no longer. They were pushed back against a growing tide of madness.
Three hours was all it took. What must have been tens of thousands of soldiers quit the battlefield and fled in terror.
It took us until nightfall to finish the survivors. By then Mihai and his force had quit the field too. He never did have the stomach to watch his pet army feed. And we fed on the vanquished all night. Mihai must have heard their screams and their pitiful pleas all the way back to his capital.
We fed and we grew stronger. We made sure none were left alive, and that none became like us. We slaughtered and beheaded every single soldier, and when we were done we built a great pyre for the heads and burned them until the smell was overpowering and we had to move away.
I had a taste for battle now, and I knew why this army followed Radu. It was not for companionship, or leadership. It was not because they feared him, although that was true. It was for the love of battle. It was for the feast.
Nothing else has come close to that joy in all my years of life.
*
Chapter Twenty-Two
1595-1599
The war progressed for many years. We never slept. Few of us fell to the sword, but some did. Over the course of four years we became the most feared army ever to walk the earth. We were invincible. We rarely spoke to humans, but messengers came from time to time and we watched them walk on trembling legs to Radu’s tent. A thousand ears all listened to that most beautiful of music, a heartbeat pounding out its insistent rhythm in fear and panic. But each time they came they left unharmed.
The messengers told us where the next feast waited.
Time and time again we rode into battle. Our armour was dented and tarnished. We polished the blood from it at the end of each battle. The stench of the dried blood was both infuriating and nauseating. After tasting fresh blood we could not face that of the dead.
But as I have learned through all my long years, years without number, everything is fleeting but me. Others fall, nations come to pass, humans age and crumble while I remain strong and young. Even the seasons that pass by in the blink of an eye will one day cease to be, but I will still walk the earth.
Everything but a vampire is measured in a span of time.
The feast could not last.
Radu came to my tent one day as the autumn leaves began to fall. He sat cross legged upon a rug next to me. I had become his second-in-command, although there were no tactics ever discussed. I was just the most powerful next to Radu.
‘Foreigner,’ he began, for this was his only name for me. ‘We face the might of nations. Prepare yourself, for this next battle will be our last, I think.’
‘What do you mean, Radu?’ I asked. I had an idea, but I had not discussed it with him. He was cold and ruthless and kept his thoughts to himself. But I had seen the way the wind was blowing for us. I, too, did not think our grace would continue much longer.
‘Mihai has grown in power. That his rise is thanks to us he does not think. He knows we are not like him. He understands what we are, as do the other nations. They come against us in force.
‘Mihai marches in the east, with the Wallachians. He says he is marching against the Romanians, but the Austrian army comes to the battle, too, and the Ottomans from the south. There is an alliance between them, I think. And I think that they come for us.’
‘But they cannot defeat us.’
‘Do not be a fool, Foreigner. They know what we are. They have long known. They wear heavier armour in battle now. They have learned. They have learned well. And Mihai has grown to fear our power, our prowess in battle. There is rumour of a pact between the armies to destroy us. They say they come against the Romanians, but I do not believe it. When the four armies meet we will be caught between the anvil and the hammer.’
‘Then, what? The Cavalry fight. We always fight. Then we feed. That is the way of it. That is our nature.’
‘Have you learned nothing in all these years? We live to feed. But we cannot feed if we are dead. They know how to kill us. Against one army, maybe two, that were ignorant of how to fight the night kin? We would prevail. Against four armies? Armed with the knowledge that taking our heads will suffice? An army we cannot turn because they are encased in steel? No, foreigner. We cannot win. We must flee.’
My anger burst out without my thinking about it. I did not have time to check it.
‘We never flee! We kill and we feast. We are invincible! They are cattle!’
The slap was so powerful it broke my jaw. I snarled at him but he just laughed at me.
‘Will you always be a beast? Listen and learn, you idiot.’
I pushed my jaw back into place and stared at him. I remembered why I hated him. It was because he was different, and because of a vampire’s pride. He was so much stronger, smarter and quicker than the rest of the night kin. He was a threat, and no vampire likes that. They will only follow through fear, and only then if there is something in the pact that they want. Radu gave us the feast. Now it was to be taken away, would he still stand as our leader? I did not think he would, not for long. No matter how powerful he was, he could not stand against all of us.
‘We live to feed, but humans can kill us. Why do you think I keep our numbers small? It is so that they fear us, but not too much. Should they rise against us they could destroy us utterly. In time, I think, we will still have to hide, be careful not to turn anyone into us. People understand what we are now. They name us vampire and they have learned that silver can hurt a vampire, and fire, and taking our heads. Do you think vampires can stand against the whole of the human race? I have been alive for many years, and the age of vampires is coming to an end. Already they hunt us. Soon it will be more dangerous for us than for them. This battle will be our last as a group, I think. I do not think many of us will survive at its end. Mihai is smarter, smarter than I, perhaps. Our time is come.
‘Think of what you have learned, Foreigner. This is my last lesson to you. Think not of your power, or your long life. Cherish that too much and it will end. Think not with your sword but with guile and cunning. Above all, intelligence will reign. You have been given a gift, Foreigner. Waste it not. Learn, grow, and live. If you fail to learn you will die, no matter how long you live. This is why we live. But I am probably wasting my breath. Sometimes the simplest lessons are the hardest to learn.’
He pushed himself to his feet and without further word left my tent.
I sat cross legged as I always did and waited for the morning. I spent the night thinking, hating Radu the whole time. I wasted much time over the years hating the man who taught me how to live as a vampire, not as a beast to be hunted by humans but as the one who stalked them.
Life is the gift we have been given. Back then I thought it was power. It took many years to realise it was not about the hunger, or the strength, or the anger that boiled slowly within that I was made this way.
The gift of life. Some things are so huge that unless we stand back we cannot see them clearly.
In the morning shouts came from the outskirts of our ca
mp.
I rose slowly and buckled on my breastplate. I belted my sword and veiled my face, ready for the battle, but not for death.
*
Chapter Twenty-Three
1599 A.D.
Battle of Selimbar
I had barely stepped out of the tent when the first of the soldiers rode into our camp. The soldiers behind him were screaming in a language I had heard before but did not understand. It did not matter what they were saying. Just that they were wearing full armour, helms and gauntlets. There was no place to thrust a sword, nowhere to sink teeth. I charged at them nonetheless and swung hard enough at one to crumple his helm and knock him insensible. All around me the Cavalry of Night fought like demons to reach horse. Some had no time to don armour but that did not stop them hacking and slashing. Their powerful blows sometimes rent the steel armour of the attacking army, but more often they glanced aside, doing little damage.
Our swordsmanship had improved over the last five years, and these men had been fighting longer than me, but still we often relied on our blood changing the course of a battle as the infection spread among our enemies, turning them to berserk warriors who would attack their brothers. That tactic was no longer available to us.
I fought my way to the horses and took one bareback. Others had managed to gain their horses and we wheeled, around thirty of us, and charged into the thick of battle. Our brothers were fighting a rear guard action, drawing back toward the horses. We had no fear, so the retreat was orderly.
But then disaster struck.
From the west another army appeared, charging through the forest there toward the clearing where our camp – now our battleground – was. Half our force turned to face this new enemy. I began to feel uneasy, then. This was no battle that we could win.
But we could not flee. I looked to the north and saw Mihai’s forces there, the might of the Wallachian army. There was no escape for us. They intended to slaughter us like dogs. Like the beasts we were to them.
My anger blossomed against Mihai. We had fought for him, won him many battles. Now he was going to destroy the army that had brought him such power.
I gave a shout and those remaining standing turned to join me. I saw Radu standing tall and seemingly invincible, surrounded by his men fighting to protect him and those trying to kill him.
There was nothing I could do to aid him. But we could have our revenge. I would not die without taking Mihai with me.
We charged into the advancing Wallachian army, ignoring the destruction of our brothers behind at the camp.
We drove forward against the weight and shields of the enemy, slashing and taking terrible wounds ourselves. But our arms were strong, cleaving shields and breaking arms and legs and heads with the power of our blows.
We hit them with every ounce of strength we could muster. They began to buckle and give under our fury. I could feel the vampires’ rage at my back. I spearheaded the counter attack. Soon I was left alone, my sword swinging down at the foot soldiers surrounding my horse. I spared a glance at the army and I saw in that instant Mihai’s raised hand, then heard the thunder as the reserves of his army charged. Then he turned and heeled his horse away.
There were thousands upon thousands of soldiers surrounding us and the target for my towering hatred did not even have the stomach to face our slaughter.
I was sure I was going to die. I cried tears of anger behind my veil as I slashed heavy blows down on each man to come before me. I took a terrible wound in my back. I had no blood to feed the healing and I bled. The wound was robbing me of my strength. Another blow caught my head, blinding me in one eye.
Was I sure I was going to die? Was I really? I think now that I had come to terms with it. I was without hope.
But sometimes I believe there are forces greater than man and vampire at work in the world.
Mihai had long left the field and there were only a hundred or so of the men who had joined me on the charge still standing. Most had lost their horses, many had wounds that would not heal unless they fed. But just when our hour was darkest the Romanian army came through the forest and fell on the traitorous Wallachians from behind.
The battle shifted, only for minutes, but for long enough. A space opened up between the two fronts of the Wallachians, those at the fore fighting the night kin, those at the rear turning to meet the new threat.
I knew I would have one chance and one chance only. I drove my horse toward that calm valley and held on tight.
Charging, half blind, I did not see the soldier who lopped my unprotected foot from my leg, but the pain was incredible. I screamed in headlong flight toward temporary safety, bursting through the rear ranks of soldiers and into the gulley.
There was no time to stop to try to aid my kin. In truth, even had I wanted to, there was nothing I could do. I was at the limits of my endurance. I pulled the horse around and turned my back on my kin. Then I charged into the forest.
Battle had been fought here, too, between the Wallachian’s rear guard and the Romanians. Many bodies were strewn about the forest floor. They were armoured, but as the sound of battle faded behind me I picked out the glorious sound of a still beating heart, irregular but powerful in my hunger. I could have heard it from a mile away, so great was my need for blood.
I fell on the source of the beating, tore his helm from his head and bit deep into his neck. I drank until his heart failed.
My missing foot began to itch. I watched, fascinated, as the nub of my foot began, slowly, to grow back.
I would be healed. The pain in my back was already receding, and I could see the difference between light and dark already through my ruined eye.
With great difficulty I mounted my horse, which was bleeding but still hale enough to ride, and turned into the forest.
*
Chapter Twenty-Four
That day always stayed strong in my memory. I remembered the pain of betrayal and the hatred that I felt so strongly for Mihai Viteazu, known as Michael the Brave. I healed soon after, almost as good as new but with pale white flesh where I had been healed. I vowed to take my revenge when I could. I dreamed of ways to sneak into the capital that Mihai ruled from and take his head between my powerful hands, crush the life from him and suck his bones dry of marrow.
There was no longer a place for my kind in what for a short time became Romania, for the first time in history. We were hunted without mercy, destroyed by fire and sword, chained with silver or buried for all time.
I wondered if Radu faced that fate, but this, too, I would never know. All I know is that I never heard of him again.
I had known hunger, but that no longer drove me with its unforgiving lash. I had known fear, but it was not fear that drove me then.
I left Romania because I was weary. So weary.
I went into the forest and did not come back for many, many years. It was there that I would meet Mihaela and learn that the world is not ruled by hate.
Hate fades. It is fleeting, destroyed by death. But love lingers. Love is everlasting. It lives on in me.
*
Chapter Twenty-Five
Year 0046
Fallon Corp Research Facility
When Tom was a boy he had been sent to boarding school, one of the best England had to offer. His father, John Fallon, had been old, even then. Tom remembered his father telling him that he had to go away. It was a better environment. He would learn to love it.
It wasn’t the first lie his father had ever told, but it was the first one Tom had recognised. In truth, John Fallon had no time for his son. Tom had been born when the elder Fallon was already an old man. 65 years of age was too old to be fathering children, even in the 21st century. Medical advances meant that life expectancy had rocketed in the years before the fall, but living longer didn’t make it any easier for the old to relate to the young. John hadn’t understood his son. The young boy had been a foreign country to the old man.
All of which was true, but the only inescapab
le fact was that John Fallon had never cared for his son. So he had sent the child to live and learn somewhere else. Somewhere he wouldn’t have to deal with the unreasoning love of a child for his father.
John Fallon could not afford the distractions. Science filled his heart. There was no room for any other love.
Tom’s sixtieth birthday had come and gone without celebration but he still remembered that first betrayal. The pain may have passed, but the insult had lurked in Tom’s heart for many years. It had coloured his early life in shades of bile.
The younger Fallon’s education had been excellent. He had studied at Oxford University, and obtained a dual honours degree in Chemistry and Biology. When he finally graduated and completed his post-graduate studies he returned to work for Fallon Corp. His father had found a good place for Tom, working in the very institution that now protected him from a world in the last twists of a spiral into oblivion.
As Tom searched the vast complex he remembered his father, aloof and cold for all the years he had known him. That betrayal was a fresh wound again. There was so much he had never known about his father. Because his father had never taken him into his confidence he had no idea of the extent of the research that was carried out in the bowels of the research facility. His lack of knowledge could cost him his life, and the lives of those people he had come to care about.
These people sat on something the vampires wanted. There was no doubt in Tom’s mind. It wasn’t their blood the creatures hungered for. There were no doubt many living above ground that they could feed on. Attacking them here was like trying to eat a turtle when there were fish for the taking.
Could it really be a particle accelerator, like the Large Hadron Collider at the CERN institute? Were the rumours really true?
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