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Of Princes and Dragons: Book 2 (Lords and Commoners)

Page 22

by Lynne Hill-Clark


  When Vlad turned back to find Mustapha, he was gone. Vlad searched the multitudes of dying humans as his men easily walked through them. The men in the back had retreated with vampires quickly hunting them down. Yet, there was no sign of Mustapha. Vlad scanned the sky and in the far distance a large bat-like figure could be seen fleeing. He had an uneasy feeling he needed to stop Mustapha now or he would be trouble in the spring. Vlad leapt to take flight when a sword cut deep across the back of his lower leg. He landed on the ground with a thud and ran his sword into the chest of the remaining brave soldier who had managed to slash his leg. Vlad had to fight off more men before he could turn his attention back to Mustapha, who was now out of sight. Not even Vlad’s vampire eyes could spot him.

  By the time Vlad’s men slayed or bled-out the remaining soldiers, Mustapha was most likely halfway back to Mehmed. Vlad would not be able to catch him before he reached Istanbul. Hopefully the sultan would have Mustapha’s head for his great loss that night. Very few disappointed the sultan and lived to tell about it. Yet Vlad was concerned. He had a terrible feeling that Mustapha would survive and be back in full force at winter’s end.

  “He was one of us, wasn’t he?” Abdullah asked, as they both stared to the south where Mustapha had disappeared.

  “Aye,” Vlad said.

  “Should we go after him?”

  “It is too late, he will be back to Constant — I mean, Istanbul in no time. It would not be wise to attack him on his own land. Besides, haven’t you had enough blood for one night?” With a smile Vlad smacked Abdullah on the shoulder.

  There were no humans left. More bodies were impaled along the road. But there were too many. The rest of the bodies were put in a large pile to be burned. Vlad did not want them rotting on the main road. They were also careful not to leave any signs that vampires had been responsible for this massacre. Bodies with bite marks on the neck were burned. The putrid smell was hard to ignore as they took flight for Targoviste. Abdullah, as well as a handful of the other Janissaries, stayed behind in order to ensure all remained secure at the border crossing.

  Upon Vlad’s return he and Sergiu decided that Mustapha must have been either a lone vampire who was able to easily prove himself to the sultan, or a Janissary who had been turned into a vampire. Either way he was most likely pretending to be human. They speculated that the sultan did not know of Mustapha’s true nature.

  “I wish we had a spy in Mehmed’s court,” Sergiu pondered when Vlad returned with the news of the battle. Sergiu usually remained behind to keep an eye on things while Vlad was away. Sergiu was granted full governing powers in Vlad’s absence.

  “Now that we know the sultan has at least one vampire fighting for him, we must be extra vigilant.” Vlad paced. It helped him to think. “It is imperative that my people are able to quickly fortify themselves in the government compounds in Targoviste and Bucharest. We must have more sentries on watch at all times to ensure that the people can get to safety in time. These extra precautions must be made in case the Ottomans were to get through our front lines or in case they were able to catch us unaware.”

  Vlad had not been concerned about a surprise attack before; the Ottomans always announced their arrival with loud war bands. But a vampire enemy who could stealthily fly through the night could easily catch them off guard.

  “Yet, it is not overly concerning if the sultan has only one vampire amongst his ranks,” Vlad added.

  “If they are smart and they most likely are, the sultan would send this one ‘extraordinary’ soldier to kill you in the night. They know that without you the threat in Wallachia would most likely dissipate. You should be better guarded,” Sergiu said.

  Vlad had never needed personal bodyguards before. The idea seemed ridiculous. “Who could possibly protect me better than myself?”

  “You must sleep at some point.”

  Vlad pondered this for a moment. “Very well. Perhaps sentries should be placed outside my chambers while I rest.”

  After leaving his meeting with Sergiu, Vlad bathed away the evidence of the battle. He was in a hurry to find Ilona. He rarely entered the women’s chambers, as it was designated a safe haven for the women of the household. No men were allowed, including Vlad. Of course, eunuchs were the exception but they were arguably no longer men. As the voivode of the household Vlad could break the rules as he saw fit — or at least bend them on occasion.

  Ilona sat outside in the secluded atrium for the women. No doubt she was enjoying the last of the temperate fall days before winter drove her inside for months on end. A maid tended to her hair. Vlad watched them silently for quite some time. Ilona was solemn. Her eyes were open but unseeing.

  It was taking entirely too long to braid her hair. “That is quite enough. You look lovely, my dear.” Her hair did not need to be braided anyway, as it was Vlad’s intent to mess it up.

  The maid started and Ilona’s face brightened into a wide smile. She held up the front of her silk brocade so she could run to him. Her hair fell around her face as the maid’s hard work came unraveled. The maid let out a frustrated moan, as she would have to start all over.

  Ilona threw her arms around Vlad’s neck. “You are alive!”

  Vlad was glad his long chlamys covered the fresh scar that had formed across his calf.

  “I told you not to worry.”

  “You are back so soon. Oh, thank God! I was worried sick.”

  “We made quick work of the sultan’s men. They will not be back for some time, I imagine.” It was good to see her smile. “Gule Gule.” Vlad whispered.

  Ilona cocked her head to the side and furrowed her brow.

  “It is a Turkish saying, which directly translates to something like, go smiling ... with goodbyes.”

  It was a bad translation but she understood. “Never leave on bad terms.”

  Vlad smiled and kissed her gently. “We have some unfinished business. Will you visit my chambers?”

  She smiled playfully and took his hand to lead him out.

  The maid was relieved that the two lovers were leaving. They were making her uncomfortable. She did not like his presence in the women’s quarters, though she would never tell Vlad so. This place was the only sanctuary women could have from men. Vlad was an intruder.

  Ilona gave Vlad a concerned glance as they approached his chambers. “What are they doing here?” she asked.

  Sergiu had already stationed two Janissaries at the door.

  “We are simply taking extra precautions. The sultan will not take last night’s defeat lightly,” Vlad said.

  Ilona frowned. Once inside, Vlad swept her off her feet, cradling her in his arms.

  “But they will hear us,” she whispered.

  They were vampires so she had no idea how well they would hear everything that went on in this room. Vlad’s smile was full of mischief. “Then we will make their shift more entertaining for them.” He easily tossed her onto the large plush bed.

  Ilona laughed with delight, temporarily forgetting about her worries of the sultan and an impending war.

  Chapter 55 Holy Roman Empire 1458 A.D

  Ramdasha sped through the streets with only his two most trusted advisors and a small satchel that held his most prized possessions. Ramdasha had become an expert in hiding and in running. He continuously drifted between remote areas and bustling cities, mostly in Southern Europe. This region was safest for him, as he had the most allies in the south. When he was not on the move he was preparing to move. The Court’s scouts were never far behind. The most he had been able to stay in one place, since his attack on Prince Elijah and that whore of his, was about one year. Granted, after a decade or so he could return to previous places of residence; or rather, previous places of hiding.

  An inconspicuous row of adjoining peasant homes provided good cover. In one of these homes, near the center, were two of Ramdasha’s guards pretending to live there. They dressed as commoners, leisurely drinking and playing games. A rug covered a thick
wooden door in the dirt floor. This door led to a narrow passageway. A smooth earthen floor spiraled gradually downward. At the end of the passage were the living quarters for Ramdasha and his most trusted men.

  His men had dug these tunnels and shored up the walls with wooden beams. They had built the long row of tiny homes as well, starting with the one over the top of the entrance. These homes were meant to house humans. It was more difficult to catch the scent of vampires when masked by the strong smell of humans. Thus, this arrangement provided an extra layer of protection against discovery by Lord Chastellain’s men.

  Ramdasha felt more secure when he was underground. He was always on edge when they lived in one of his above ground homes.

  For the lord of a growing vampire army he lived modestly. He had left many luxuries behind. This was a sacrifice he was willing to make in order to defy the Court. He lived as if he were a peasant himself. Of course, this was for the benefit of his kind. Someday the world would belong to vampires. Then he would have it all. But until then, he lived underground — only a shadow in the night — unseen by most and concealed from the Court.

  Ramdasha and his closest comrades always had a strategy for a quick retreat. It was vital that Ramdasha had a flawless plan for his next move. When the Court’s men grew too near, he and his cohorts would disappear and regroup quickly without being discovered.

  This time the Court had almost found him. They had been close — too close. Usually Ramdasha’s sentries would spot the Court’s men well in advance, giving Ramdasha plenty of time to flee. But this time one of the scouts managed to find the entrance of the small house that led to Ramdasha’s current underground hideout.

  The scout had gotten by Ramdasha’s sentry quite by accident. From atop a nearby rooftop, the sentry’s attention had been drawn away by two drunken humans fighting in the street —something about a woman was all the sentry could gather.

  The Court’s scout past by unnoticed on the street below. The scout caught the scent of vampires outside the nondescript home. As soon as Ramdasha’s guards inside the home spotted the Chastellain “C” on the scout’s breastplate they drew their swords and the scout was killed. The guards alerted Ramdasha and they barely made it out a secret exit before the scout’s companions flooded into the underground tunnels.

  Ramdasha and his men separated, as always, to make it harder for the enemy to know which vampire scent to follow. Ramdasha knew he needed to get to water quickly so that he could no longer be tracked. When the smell of the Mediterranean filled Ramdasha’s nose, relief flooded through him — another narrow escape. It was a rush that he rather enjoyed. At least these moments of excitement broke up the monotony of hiding. They also gave him confidence and made him feel powerful. No one had been able to elude Lord Chastellain for as long as he had.

  Once safely in their new hideout, Ramdasha and his men regrouped. They settled into a modest home in an isolated region of the French Alps. No humans and hopefully no vampires would find them for quite some time. In fact, they would have only one sentry keep watch until spring. For now the vast amounts of snow would keep most anyone away.

  “That was close, My Lord. Thankfully, no one saw you,” Sebastian said. Sebastian had taken Riddick’s place and was Ramdasha’s best warrior and most trusted servant.

  “Must we keep running, My Lord? Why can’t we stay and fight the Court’s scouts?” one of Ramdasha’s men complained.

  “You know why,” Ramdasha snapped. “The scouts never travel alone — not after we killed many of them in the beginning. The Court sends them out in small battalions and I only allow the five of you at my side at all times. I don’t fully trust anyone else. Not after Riddick’s betrayal ... over a stupid woman.”

  “Surely if we were to call all our allies together we could stand up to the Court. Mendoza and Belleaire have succeeded in growing their forces, as well as your sympathizers in the East. We are many,” Sebastian said.

  “Even with all my sympathizers, we do not outnumber Lord Chastellain’s armies,” Ramdasha said. “He controls all of the North. I can’t seem to win any of them over. Which is surprising, to say the least, because this world is all wrong and it is the Court’s fault — no, I don’t like to give it an abstract name — this is all Lord Chastellain’s doing. Why can’t any of his allies see him for what he truly is? He and he alone is to blame for this backward world vampires are forced to endure. In his barbaric mind he believes that the weak should rule this earth. Well let me tell you, in my experience it is always the strong who survive. In the human world, the sick of body and mind do not live long prosperous lives. The healthiest and strongest of humans are the ones who survive and then go on to thrive. Why should it be any different for vampires? We are far superior to humans, yet we have to remain underground, hidden away, like bats in a cave, never seen by the light. We are the strongest, oldest, most intelligent creatures on earth and yet we are not allowed to flourish. We, the superior beings, must remain out of sight. I will not rest until we are free! It is the vampire’s right to rule this world.”

  It was a tirade that Sebastian had heard many times, yet he never tired of it. “Of course, My Lord, with you as our supreme leader.”

  “It is taking us far too long to rebuild.” Ramdasha tapped his fingernails impatiently on the wooden armrest. “We lost many in the vampire plagues. Creating a more disciplined army is much more difficult than simply turning large numbers of humans into vampires and setting them loose in the streets. Although that was an exciting time.” Ramdasha smiled at the fond memory. “It is difficult to see why Chastellain has numerous supporters. How can so many of our kind not see that he works to keep us suppressed? It is as if we are nothing but animals. We are less than humans in his eyes. He allows pathetic humans to prosper while his own people languish. That is why we must resist him at any cost.” Ramdasha’s eyes burned with anger. This topic would forever impel him.

  “Any rational vampires in the North must be too afraid of Chastellain to cross him,” Sebastian offered. “Or they love the prince and that tramp of his.”

  “No!” Ramdasha glared at Sebastian. “No one loves them and I’ve warned you, do not mention her in front of me. I refuse to acknowledge her existence. She is dead to me and she would be dead if I had not been betrayed.” Vallachia was forever the one who had escaped him. She had cost him dearly. For Ramdasha this was still a fresh wound. In his mind it was as if her treachery happened only yesterday.

  “But, My Lord, I hear that in the North they call her the Great Snow Queen and they all but worship —”

  “Enough! I said, do not discuss her in my presence. Is that clear?”

  “Yes, of course, My Lord. Those miserable human-loving vampires must be stopped. Humans are nothing more than food — like sheep.” Sebastian wisely changed the subject.

  “No, humans are lower than sheep. At least sheep provide wool, as well as food,” one of Ramdasha’s men said.

  “That is correct. Humans are not even as useful as sheep,” Sebastian said.

  This brought about a round of laughter.

  “Humans should be rounded up and controlled by their masters — us,” Ramdasha said.

  “Out with the old and in with the new!” This was their mantra and it brought about a round of toasting.

  This helped to lighten the mood and calm Ramdasha. He studied his men with approval. “There is one hope. Our informants have come across a new coven of vampires in the East. Well, perhaps an army is a better description. They are large in number and well trained in the art of combat. They do not appear to be in league with the Court. As far as my emissary can tell, they are ruled by one. He goes by the name Prince Vladislav Dracula.”

  Sebastian lit up. “Then we must go to him at once. Surely he can be persuaded to join our worthy cause.”

  “Let us hope so. With his numbers we could easily defeat Chastellain. We would finally be ready to attack and we could come out of hiding forever,” Ramdasha declared.


  Sebastian jumped to his feet. “Then what are we waiting for?”

  “Patience, my dear comrade. We must be smart at all times. Acting in haste is what gets people killed. Prince Dracula may be dangerous, should he choose not to side with us. I have already sent word to our allies in Bulgaria. We are to meet in two days’ time. They will accompany us. I need more guards to protect me — in case this Dracula is hostile.”

  Chapter 56 Wallachia 1458 A.D

  Ramdasha and his entourage made their way to the Poienari Castle — Vlad’s display of wealth and power. The splendor of the castle alone worked to convince Ramdasha that Vlad was exactly the man he needed as an ally.

  Vlad looked forward to the meeting as well; even though Sergiu did not like the idea. Sergiu wanted nothing to do with Ramdasha. Yet, Vlad was curious about this elusive vampire.

  Ramdasha smiled when Vlad entered the room. Vlad returned the gesture with his confident and sarcastic smirk.

  “So you are the great vampire prince my informant told me about?” Ramdasha spoke first.

  “Aye and you are ... ?”

  “Lord Ramdasha.”

  “Ah yes. I have heard very little of you. In fact, I have heard nothing of you since your time during the great plagues of Europe. What was that? A hundred years ago. I thought you had given up or perhaps you were dead.”

 

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