by Dan Davis
“For your crimes against Christ, the Church, and the King of Hungarians,” Vlad said. “I sentence you to be executed.”
Guards stepped up, ready to stop any violence, as the crusaders raged in shock and dismay at the sentence. I assumed the Wallachian boyars would come to blows with the outraged crusaders. And yet, to my great surprise, the boyars did not argue with the Hungarians. Instead, the boyars sided with them against Vlad and they protested the sentence with almost as much vigour as did Hunyadi’s allies. It seemed the boyars did not wish to anger the entire Kingdom of Hungary over such an extreme act.
I could not quite follow what was said but it was clear that Vlad Dracul and his son Mircea were also shocked by the resistance to the voivode’s order.
And no matter how he raged and threatened, the boyars stood as one and defied their prince. Their stance could not be overcome and so, infuriated, Vlad cursed them and strode from the hall with his son on his heels.
The boyars muttered to each other when he had gone, not at all pleased by their victory. Instead, they seemed disturbed by the implications. And when Hunyadi and his men sought to thank them, the boyars were grim in their acceptance of that thanks. Hunyadi was cautioned to remember what the boyars had done for him and then we were ordered to be removed from the hall.
When I was escorted back to my quarters, my men stood and waited, pained looks on their faces as they tried to read my expression.
“What is it?” Rob asked.
“Are we to be put to death?” Stephen asked, aghast. “We are sentenced to death, aren’t we. I knew it. What are we to do, Richard?”
“Had to happen sooner or later,” Walt said, with a shrug. “Would have been nice to see old England one last time.”
“Be silent,” Eva snapped at them. “Speak, Richard.”
“We are to be freed and sent on to Hungary,” I said. “Along with Hunyadi and all his men.”
***
A week later, we were sent from Târgoviște along with a large escort of boyars and their loyal men, heading north into the mountains of Transylvania. The passes were clear of snow but the mountains were heavy with it and the thick forest was dense with shadow.
“I do not understand how they could defy their lord,” I said to Stephen as we trekked through a vale with jagged rocks jutting up into mountains on either side. “Why is the prince so weak in his own kingdom?”
“It is a mountain land and they are a mountain people,” Stephen said, wiping his nose and looking miserable. “Precisely the same as mountain folk everywhere. Every valley has its lord and every lord is king of his valley. A hundred valleys, a hundred tribes and a hundred petty kings. Their feuds go back who knows how long and are so complicated that no outsider can ever hope to understand.”
“Same as the Welsh,” Walt observed.
“You would know,” Rob said, quickly, a grin on his stubbly face.
Eva rolled her eyes and kept her own counsel.
The cold was astonishing and for the most part we kept to ourselves until we descended on the Transylvanian side of the mountains. Here, Hunyadi visibly relaxed and our Wallachian escort left us, to head back once they had rested and recuperated. For us, the journey continued, and I found myself invited to dine with Hunyadi in a large and fine town named Brasov at the foot of the hills.
“What will you do now?” Hunyadi asked me, once the wine was flowing. His look was at once penetrating and easy to return. There was no doubt he was a remarkably intelligent man and he had turned all his wits to mastering the art of war. But he had suffered a great defeat on the field and for some men who experience such a thing it defeats their spirit. Whether Hunyadi had been broken by it, I could not yet tell.
“I came here to wage a crusade against the Turk,” I said. “I shall continue to do so.”
His face did not change and yet I could tell that my answer pleased him.
“What of your men?”
“Most shall follow me for a while yet, as long as we have a master willing to pay for our services. Even then, there are some who I suspect would rather wage war elsewhere. Italy is far more civilised, as far as these things go.”
He nodded. “And if I do continue to pay for your services, how will you wage this war, Richard, with such a reduced company?”
I drank the wine. It was rather good, if sweet for my taste. “That depends on what happens now, my lord. You were in command of the crusade. That has ended in practice but to my mind, you are the moral leader of the crusade still. If this crusade is considered to be ended, perhaps the Pope might consider calling another?”
Hunyadi took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “The king is dead. His own vanity cost him his life, and cost the crusade victory in the field, but he must be properly mourned. More to the point, however, is that Hungary needs a new king.”
I watched him closely, for the men often muttered that Hunyadi should be made king, despite his relatively low birth into the knightly class rather than the upper nobility. It would certainly be unprecedented but they could not find a more able king to lead them in war, of that I was certain. He did have healthy sons, but the crown was not a hereditary one. Surely, if the lords had any sense they would see he would be the strong arm that Hungary needed if it was to resist the Turkish menace. For all his bluster, Vlad Dracul had been right enough about the danger.
“And who will be that king?” I asked.
He smiled. “Not I, if that is your meaning.” He waved away my half-hearted protests. “I have the hearts of the minor nobles of Hungary but the truly powerful there shall never vote for me to be made king. No, they will make another wear the crown but it is my wish and my expectation that we shall continue the war. It is my wish also that another crusade be called, for this very year, if there is the will for it. But Hungary comes first. A king must be crowned and soon and then the war may continue.”
“A sensible order of business, my lord. But what do you mean to do with Vlad Dracul?”
He raised an eyebrow. “Do? Whatever do you mean, sir?”
I glanced around and lowered my voice. “Surely, my lord, you have a great enemy in this man. His desire to have you executed will now have only grown and should he come into possession of your person once again, he will not hesitate to act, this time without consulting the lords who defied him.” I shook my head to myself.
Hunyadi seemed to find this amusing. “The boyars revolt against the voivode disturbs you?”
“Surprises me, somewhat. That they have such authority against their own prince.”
“You would have me believe that the King of England acts as a tyrant?” He smiled. “That he may go against the will of his lords without consequence?”
The thought of the useless, witless fool who was King Henry VI acting as a tyrant brought a smile from me, also. “Nevertheless, Dracul and his son have proved not only duplicitous but treacherous. How long before Vlad resumes his subjugation before the Turk? It is a vast land, the border of Christendom. We cannot afford to lose Wallachia.”
“It pleases me to hear you say we. But if you had the power to act, what would you do?”
“Whatever has to be done.”
“You would murder a prince?” he asked, his voice low and steady.
“What is one life compared to the lives of all of our people?”
“I wonder if I could ever truly trust a man who is so quick to jump to murder,” he said, as if speaking to himself. “Do you know why Vlad is called Dracul?”
Of course I do, I almost said but stopped myself. “He is a member of the Order of the Dragon. It is a chivalric order, established by Sigismund, King of Hungary, in order to fight against the Turk. He was another great man who led a crusade against the Turk that ended in defeat, at Nicopolis.”
“You were educated regarding it?” he asked.
I remember it, I wanted to say, and heard from those who were there how victory was snatched away by arrogant knights charging before they should have. Inste
ad I merely nodded.
“I was raised and trained by men who survived it,” he said. “A defeat that hung heavy over them, and so over me, all my life. I wonder if my defeat will echo through our sons.” He shook himself from his melancholy. “And yes, my lord Sigismund founded it. The Brotherhood of the Dragon, or the Order of the Dragon, or any one of a number of other names. It is a society with no official name, you see, and yet the members must each bear the symbol of the society on his person at all times. This sign or effigy is in the form of the dragon curved into a circle, its tail winding around its neck. The dragon sign also includes a red cross, in the same way that those who fight under the banner of the glorious martyr St George are accustomed to bear a red cross on a white field.”
“I have seen the emblem. And Vlad Dracul not only wears this sign on his person in the form of an amulet but he has made it his personal coat of arms. By doing so, he proclaims to the world his closeness to the Order and to the King of Hungary, whoever that shall be.”
Hunyadi smiled. “Precisely. His membership of the Order is no small thing. He cannot simply be murdered.”
“I never said he should be, merely that there should be no limits on actions that ultimately defend Christendom. But I suspect that he cannot be brought to heel. Not a man such as he. Can he be deposed? Would the boyars allow such a thing?”
“The position of Voivode of Wallachia has never been a stable one.” He inclined his head. “If there was a suitable candidate, ready to step in, once the current voivode is removed, certainly he could be replaced. There are a couple of leading families that tradition would allow, especially those of the Danesti, who are the great enemies of the Draculesti.”
“I assume you have a specific candidate in mind. How would you remove Vlad?”
“How would you?”
“I am a simple man. I would march an army to his gates and demand his surrender.”
“If I were to do so, would you and your men join me?”
I hesitated. It was dangerous for a mercenary such as I was to tie himself too closely to one lord over others and some of my men had joined specifically to wage war on the infidel, not other Christians, even Eastern ones. Despite all that, I did not hesitate for long. “He and his son have proved themselves to be treacherous. They cost us the battle and so the crusade. I would see them removed.”
“It will have to happen, in time.” Hunyadi nodded slowly to himself. “But first, Hungary.”
Our business concluded, I made to leave but Hunyadi leaned forward and placed a hand on my arm. “Richard. What is your interest in Zaganos Pasha?”
Slowly, I eased myself back into my seat. I considered denying it but it was obvious that men had told him of my enquiries. “I believe he was born a Christian but now he is a man who must be killed.”
“Why?” he fired the question at me.
“He means for all Christendom to be destroyed.”
“More than other Turks?”
“Yes.”
“How do you know this?”
“I know.”
“You know the man personally? How so?”
“He is an old enemy of mine.”
Hunyadi smiled to himself, no doubt amused by my apparent youth. “He has wronged you personally?”
I had an urge to explain everything to Hunyadi but there was a good chance he would believe me to be a madman. “He has, my lord.”
“At Varna, you took your men into an attack on the Sultan’s position. It was foolhardy and you lost many of your men and you suffered extensive wounds. After hearing of your interest in this man, it seems to me that you were not attempting to slay the Sultan but this Zaganos Pasha.” When I said nothing, he nodded once and continued. “I wonder if, should we come to battle with them again, you could be trusted to obey orders. Your passions may overcome you once more.”
“My passions did not overcome me. I am not some fragile king who cannot let better men win glory. I know how to read a battlefield. My charge into the Sultan’s position was only possible because Ladislaus acted like a mad fool. He threw away his life and that of his men but it almost worked, did it not? If only we had the Wallachians with us. Seven thousand horsemen would have overrun even the Janissaries and the Sultan and his son would be dead. And so would Zaganos Pasha.”
Hunyadi kept very still. He was not distracted by my clumsy attempt to change his focus back to the Wallachians. “Men say that you bleed your servants every day. Why do you do this?”
I shrugged, attempting nonchalance. “All men should be bled every few days, especially servants. It keeps them servile.”
“They say,” Hunyadi muttered, “that Zaganos Pasha has a taste for human blood. Have you heard this rumour?”
I smiled. “I could very well believe it.”
“There are tales in Transylvania, my homeland, of creatures who live by ingesting blood. Creatures who look like men. Who once were men but were turned into monsters by another. Have you heard of such tales, I wonder?”
Holding myself still, I attempted a smile. “There are many tales of monsters and the like amongst peasants. Even in England. There, they are called revenants.”
“We have many names also. In Serbia, I heard these monsters called vampir. Here in Transylvania, they are called strigoi. It is not only peasants who believe they walk amongst us but lords and priests and learned men also.”
“And you believe that I am a demon because I have my servants bled each week? Truly, my lord?”
Hunyadi said nothing but sipped from his wine. “My friends tell me that I should no longer associate with you. They tell me that you are unnatural. That many of your men are unnatural. One of your men is even a woman and yet she has the strength of ten knights.”
“How absurd.”
“But you do have a woman for a squire, Richard, do not deny that to my face when I have seen her with my own eyes. Who is she? Your wife? Your sister? Your whore?”
I flinched at the last word and fought down an urge to strike him. He was attempting to provoke me and knocking his teeth out would be satisfying for only a moment before his men attacked me. But what could I say about Eva? That I had known her for two hundred years? The truth was that we had been man and wife for decades while also fighting our way around Christendom and the East, as mercenaries and as crusaders and for our own purposes. Our love for each other had become friendship and our ardour had turned to tedium. After a mortal lifetime of companionship, she had needed to be apart from me and that was how we had lived for decades more. Many times since, we had found ourselves in each other’s arms and beds. It was inevitable. And ever since leaving England for Hungary, three years before, we had slipped once more into comfortable companionship, sharing our bed when one was available and lying curled together under the stars or in a tent when one was not. How could I explain to Hunyadi that there was no word for the nature of my relationship with Eva? She was not my wife, not really. She was my squire, she fought by my side and saved my life more often than I saved hers. More than anyone else, she understood my stomach, my heart, and my wits, and offered better advice than I could find anywhere in the world. Simply, I suppose, she was my friend but at the same time Eva was such a part of me that I could not imagine life without her in it.
“She is no one,” I said.
Hunyadi sighed, exasperated. “I must say that I feel inclined to agree with my friends about your nature. We have seen you and your men training. Seen how you fight in battle. I have seen you move as swiftly as an arrow and I have seen you throw a man, in full armour, clear over a horse. There is something utterly unnatural about you, Richard, and I do not like it.”
I nodded to myself, trying to understand what it was he wanted. Reassurance that he was wrong? Or confirmation that he was right. I tried for a middle path. “And yet in spite of my unnaturalness you wish to use me and my men to help you achieve freedom from the Turk?” I said.
He tilted his head. “You do not deny it?”
“Deny what? That I am stronger and faster than any living man? That I have turned the tide of battle more times than I can count? Janos, you have been content to let me fight for you all this time, what has changed?”
“We return to Buda and the court there is far more dangerous, for both of us, than the Sultan and his Turks. I must be above reproach and while you are an asset on the battlefield, you are a liability at court.”
I almost laughed, for I had heard that very thing many times before.
“You and I have the same enemy, my lord. Whatever else I may be, I seek to always be a good Christian and a good knight. Mistrust me if you will, I quite understand. I will find another way to defeat the Turks.”
He almost smiled again. “All of them?”
“If they stand between me and my enemy.”
His smile dropped and for the first time, he seemed uncertain. “I can protect you from rumours at court but you must keep yourself and your men on a tight leash.”
“I understand.”
“And so you will restrain yourself until I am ready to act?”
If he thought I was a vampir or a strigoi, then perhaps he was asking me to stop drinking blood. Or he may have been merely warning a foreign mercenary captain to know his place.
“My lord,” I said, “I am a courteous man, in full control of myself and my actions. If it does not take too long, I shall wait like a peaceful Christian for you to once more aim your lance at the Turk.”
“Oh, I shall take aim, sir.” Hunyadi pointed a finger at me. “And you shall be the point of the spear.”
***
A new king was raised to the throne of Hungary. A young boy of five years, named Ladislaus V, and Janos Hunyadi was named as the Regent. This young fellow was in the physical possession of the Habsburgs in the Holy Roman Empire and they would not let him return to Hungary, so while Hunyadi ruled the boy king remained in the care of his guardian, the Holy Roman Emperor Frederick III.