Vlad’s company I found to be delightful, as did those in each village we rested in until we reached Targsor at which his mannerisms became angered and dark. The condition in which we found the village existing is difficult to fathom. Vlad’s anger now with Hunyadi exceeded what it had before. His anger before that moment had been more tolerant being he understood the politics of war. Hunyadi had dispatched his armies against Vlad II for his betrayal of the oath he took as a knight in the Order of the Dracul by selling his sons into hostages of Royalty, a fact that did not lie well with Hunyadi, but punishing the peasants- the less fortunate that were now in Vladimir’s charge- angered him greatly. They had not made the choice; his father did and it should have been Vlad II who was punished, not those below him who were subjected to such degraded conditions.
Targsor stood in such a state of disrepair; I could scarcely believe my eyes. Roofs were in such need of re-thatching, large animals could enter. Peasants who did have the strength to venture from their homes were gaunt and clothes tattered and worn. There appeared sickly and underfed.
“How high the reserve in stock we have for the winter, Ahbrim, at both the Poenari ruins and Targoviste?” Vlad asked.
“I know not the exact amounts Vladimir. The Boyars, I am certain, have stored enough to sustain them through the winter.”
“Dispatch a courier to Sighisoara. All provisions in the Royal Commissary are to be brought to Targsor at once.”
“Your actions will bring about their wrath, Vladimir.”
He paused midstep. I had spoken to him out of turn and without thinking.
“I find it refreshing Ahbrim that you care for me and my well-being so greatly you care not if you anger me with your honesty. So I ask you to gaze upon my face and tell me if you see any cause that I might care how much my actions will anger the Boyars?”
The tone behind his words sent to me a stern message without me having to look at him. Vladimir cared only for those who stood before him starving. He chose a small inn in which we would spend the next several days to orchestrate what it was he was planning. I stood behind him as he spoke with the innkeeper.
“Have you, sir, a son of ample health who could ride my horse to the Snagov Monastery outside of Sighisoara as my courier? For if you do, I shall compensate you well if my conditions are abided.”
“I do, sire, have son who could act as your courier,” the innkeeper replied.
Vladimir motioned to me to bring him his writing papers and sealing wax. He wrote a letter quickly to Mordecai indicating his wishes, as I tempered the wax for the imprint of the Baserab Crest, which he bore upon his ring.
“The seal, good sir, must remain unbroken upon delivery. Your son must obtain upon his arrival a reply from Mordecai Vedesti, which he will deliver back to me. Should the seal remain unbroken at both deliveries, your family shall receive the sum of one year’s wages, two of my prized work horses, and six barrels of malt.”
The innkeeper hurriedly left to awaken his son. I thought as I watched it all unfold before me, Vladimir’s act to be overly generous and perhaps rash. His explanation to me was slightly surprising.
“This man in his life has toiled for the meagerness that surrounds us, yet to him it is a castle. His ability to provide remains, but he feels he is less than he is. Should I not rectify whatever actions have been taken against him that were no fault of his own? Is that not the path a man of God should walk? Should I, as Viovode, not lift those up under me who are deserving and Godly to a better stature in life who are willing? I shall do so and it shall be done without question. Am I understood?”
“Yes,” I said.
“Good, then let us dine and speak of it no more.”
He placed the paper in the innkeeper’s hand.
“Now, good sir, my men and I are ravenous from our journey and will require many nights lodging. Bring whatever you have left from your evening meal, bread, and ale and I shall compensate you well.”
I knew the words he spoke this night would be but the first of many we would share and many nights more we would spend here in Targsor. I also know that I will be at his side during the rebuilding. His last words to me this night perhaps were what pleased me most.
“Pray with me, Ahbrim,” he said. “Seek God’s blessing so that Targsor and Her people might once again fall under his bountiful grace.”
Chapter Four
Vladimir Dracul’s Journal
Targsor
10 February 1448
The son of the innkeeper, Loki Morelastai, is delayed in his return. I fear the Boyars have intercepted him. I have no doubt in the faith I have placed in Vedesti; for a man so long devoted to God such as he would not betray his Viovode. The Boyars, however, I have little trust or faith in their behavior especially given the manner, in which they betrayed my father and my brother. Should Vedesti, unbeknownst to him, with misguidedly placed trust in one of those merciless dogs, I fear the young Loki dead. I pray to God this not be what I suspect.
Many men have been secured to begin clearing the forest. I have ordered construction of a larger mill to be put in place. The small mill which supports Targsor is insufficient. I have also sent word to Hunyadi of my re-instatement as Viovode and my intention to hold the Ottomans at bay. I hope to gain with him an allegiance as Hungary and Wallachia once had. If I cannot persuade him then perhaps his son Matthias will lend his ear to my cause. I have informed him in my correspondence of my intention to reinstate trade with outside countries to three cities only through which they may import goods.
Easter soon will be upon us. I find that in the coming celebration of the resurrection of our Lord and Savior a great dinner should be held. I will return at this time to Poenari to begin the arrangements. The celebration, I will hold at Targoviste, and will invite all the Boyars who are now in places of position and their families to celebrate my placement as their Prince and Viovode. I will charge Ahbrim with having the Nuns at the Snagov Convent and Monastery begin the work of creating the invitations for delivery. There are many Boyars. It will no doubt be a time-consuming task.
Near Dark
Praise God, Loki has arrived, letter in hand with the seal intact and unharmed. His health I fear poor but his spirits are high. He says the Archbishop sends twenty wagons filled with grain and provisions. Now the true testament of my people will be revealed for should they be lazy, unwilling to work hard, should they lie, should they harbor deceit, should they steal, or should their women be unclean and behave as whores then they shall be punished, for I will tolerate no such behaviors in my kingdom. The moral code will be enforced with a stern hand and so shall the will of God.
11 February 1448
The rebuilding of Targsor moves at a greater pace than even I anticipated. I find those in my charge more ample in their skills than I could have prayed. They are hard-working, determined, and Godly in their reserve, which pleases me greatly. Most of the Saxons have fled the village, for which I am grateful; they are leftover remnants of invaders and the heathen offspring they left behind.
Orislov and his son, Loki, have proved to be dedicated and loyal servants who wish to remain in my service. Loki is much improved in his condition. I sent for my personal physician to come from Targoviste to tend to him and his ailing health upon his return from Sighisoara. I fear he slept little and ate even less for fear of being captured by the Boyars. He is a fine example of what a Wallachian should strive to be. He exemplifies strength and courage in the face of adversity. He shall be well rewarded for his loyalty as will his father.
It will be perhaps another two weeks before the completion of the mill. Then the men will increase the pace at which they work, and Targsor will rival any small village en route to Buda-Pesth.
In the Spring, I shall begin recruiting men from the surrounding villages to restore work in the mines to bring ore and silver from the mountain. New Ducats must be commissioned. I will resume the undertaking of Mircea and fortify the treasury.
I have entru
sted Mordecai Vedesti with the task of overseeing the Boyars. With him, they are more likely to be less guarded than in my presence. It is a two-fold deception on my part, for while Mordecai occupies them, I began rebuilding Wallachia’s army. I will not rely on that which is now in existence, for they cannot be trusted. Their loyalty lies not with their Viovode, as it should, but with the Boyars. I have, after many hours of contemplation and asking God for guidance, come to an enlightened decision. I shall do what no Viovode before me has done. I will comprise an army entirely of Mercenaries. Men well paid who will place their loyalty where it rightfully belongs: in hands of the one who pays them well. The wages of a soldier are meager when in the care of the court. The wages of the Mercenary are nearly thrice. What man of sensible disposition would turn down a proposition such as this? By doing so I also afford myself and Wallachia the best soldiers in all the land. My Soldiers of God shall be undefeatable.
Ahbrim now expresses concerns that I should seek a wife. He says no Viovode should be without an heir. I have not yet secured the kingdom and he considers that I have not a yet a wife or a son. He is a curious creature. I tell him I have not the time while Wallachia is in such a state of disrepair. He responds that should a king fall in battle the line must continue and a wife should be considered, one who is pious who would provide good sons. A Viovode must have an heir. My kingdom shall not fall to the sons of Radu despite my focus and resolve to see Wallachia returned to its former glory, it is known in my heart that Ahbrim speaks the truth and seeks only to protect and care for my welfare as any trusted man of God would.
I have sent one emissary to Hunyadi and Matthias with no response. Another shall be sent in an act of good faith and again state my intentions to reunite the House of Dracul and House of Corvinus. Perhaps they can arrange a marriage that would again unite our families.
Ahbrim Baserab’s Journal
Targsor
11 February 1448
Vladimir is diligent in his quest to ensure those in his keep stay to the will of God and feels it is his responsibility as their Viovode to instill within them a strong faith. I praise God for the fortitude he gave Vladimir during his imprisonment to keep close to his heart his faith, to give him the strength and the courage he needed to face the dark days before him. His devotion has not waivered and has grown deeper since arriving at Targsor. His methods may be viewed as harsh, but are delivered with the word of God and scripture. He must learn temperance and kindness, but such manners will come in time so must I in turn exercise patience as I am quick to forget what it was he endured. My heart cries for him and prays for him as well.
Targsor is a village reborn under his guidance. Wallachia again shall return to the splendor once known under the rule of the Baserab when Mircea was Viovode.
I spoke at length with Vladimir this morn. He should consider a wife. It is perhaps the furthest most consideration from his thoughts. Vladimir believes it a preposterous undertaking with what he feels he must accomplish, but, should he fall in battle, there must be an heir. With no Viovode successor, an enemy could take the throne with great ease. I cannot, with clear devotion to Vladimir, avoid voicing my concerns to him. I, as well as Mordecai, will not allow our beloved home to fall to the hands of those Godless heathens. We have suffered greatly, fought and lost many, and given our lives freely to keep our home in the hands of the rightful heirs. Vladimir must marry, even if I must intercede and arrange the marriage myself.
His condition is a difficult one for even I to grasp. In one moment he behaves brashly, even horridly, and in another, his overwhelming concern for the condition of others he will put before himself. He is a man of complicated depths that I, myself, may never truly understand, no matter how deeply I try. In the time we awaited young Master Loki’s return, I scarcely believe he slept but a few hours. I could not discern if it was because he feared Loki had betrayed him or if some unforeseen ill had befallen him. When Loki returned ill and weakened, Vladimir left his side only once, orchestrated all that was to take place in Targsor from his bedside, and sent for his own personal childhood physician from Targoviste to care for the ailing Loki. It was not until Vladimir saw improvement in his condition that he returned to directly overseeing the rebuilding. Loyalty is a value he holds in very high regard.
He has requested that I remain at his side both day and night recording all that I see as a testament of his reign and as record for the Order to be secured in the Vatican at the time of his death. For reasons I have yet to understand, he believes his life will be one of short length but of glorious deeds.
13 February 1448
Word came early this morning to Vladimir of the condition of Poenari, his childhood home lying in ruins.
“My first vestige will be her reconstruction as soon as Targsor, Campulung, and Targoviste are complete. I anticipate Targsor to be finished by the spring thaw. What say you, Ahbrim?” He asked me.
I found his lack of anger about the condition of Poenari to be frightening. I was certain he would be enraged the Turks had destroyed the home of his youth yet he seemed at peace about the information given to him, which I found I could not understand.
“What do I have to say about which, Vladimir, the state in which Poenari lies or the spring thaw?”
He laughed. I found his spirits to be high.
“Targoviste shall be next. I should like for you to send word to my Uncle Bodgin in Moldavia as we await word from Hunyadi and Matthias. Their support is crucial to what we begin here. I pray they will see with the aid of God that a loyal Dracul has been returned as Viovode to Wallachia.”
“I am certain, Vladimir, that God will allow them to see the heart of the man who has returned to them.”
I attempted to reassure him. I knew as I looked at him he was greatly concerned in their lack of reply. Perhaps the second letter we had sent with the emissary requesting their aid in arranging a marriage would hasten the manner in which they replied.
Vladimir was pleased for most of the day until an act of thievery was discovered. A man unknown to the village came, poor and hungry, worn from the cold and desolate winter. He stole bread from Orislov, clothing from another villager, and then attempted to steal a horse. As what the man had done was told to Vladimir, I watched his mood darken to a level I had not witnessed before. He sent for the man then bade me to fetch his gold chalice and come to the center of Targsor with my records. He had told me I would record all that I saw with no detail left unwritten.
I watched as Vladimir called each villager from their home till he had gathered the entire village in the center square.
“Thievery I cannot abide. Taking an offense against God I will not tolerate. Not one among you is Godless. Not one among you is a heathen. A man must work in the eyes of God to be a man. He must not steal. He must not covet what is not his. If he is downtrodden, he must then ask for what he can do to lift himself from this place, but he must never take from another that which does not belong to him. What should become of a man who steals, who boldly commits an affront to God?” Vladimir asked.
Orislov was the first one and only one to speak, stepping forward next to Vladimir.
“He should be punished as such a man should, for when a man steals he not only breaks a commandment as set by God himself and takes from a man who worked hard to secure it, he also steals from the Viovode of the country. He steals from you Prince Vladimir. For what is ours is yours. Any man who steals breaks the written word of God.”
Orislov’s voice did not waiver as he spoke. He spoke with great clarity and conviction.
“Then Orislov, it shall be you who delivers his judgment; for it was from you he first stole.”
I watched as Vladimir drew his sword and placed it in Orislov’s hands. He then took the chalice from my hand and set it in the center of the square on a stool next to the kneeling thief. In a single swift movement, Orislov cut the man’s hands from his body. Vladimir hung the man’s hands above the chalice.
“Let his hands
bear warning to all who would consider such an act against God and against their Viovode as a silent witness that such acts will not be tolerated in Wallachia so long as a Solider of God reigns.”
My mouth, I know, was agape at what I witnessed. Never before such brutality had I seen unfold before me. Yet I could see he felt justified in his actions. In his heart, he felt his actions were and the ease at which he had influenced those in his presence left me in awe. Before me stood a man who would lead thousands of men to victory in the name of God, who would follow his actions without question, and I feared would leave a trail of blood never before witnessed in the name of God.
Chapter five
Ahbrim’s journal continued…
15 February 1448
How pleased I was when Mordecai arrived this day to witness our work here at Targsor. He appeared pleased at what Vladimir wished to accomplish and inquired at length about Targoviste and Campulung. The good Sisters have completed the invitations for the Easter Services and Dinner that Vladimir will hold at Targoviste Castle. His willingness to meet with the Boyars is pleasing to both the Archbishop and I. Perhaps the old anguishes can be laid to rest is what Mordecai hopes. I attempted to explain that it is a more complicated matter. The Boyars have nearly bled the treasury dry. It is not a matter with complications and deep seeded anger where Vladimir is concerned. The Boyars did not intercede, nor did they rally the army to counterattack after the death of Mircea or after the death of his father. Though Vladimir does not speak of it and I am unsure of whether or not he knows the complete details surrounding their deaths, the blood there is bad. I fear it will not end in their favor. Vladimir has shown his distaste for the ruling class of the Boyars. He has shown how deep his convictions. Between what he views an affront to God and disrespect against the Dracul, I am apprehensive about Mordecai’s falsely placed optimism.
Memoirs of an Immortal Life Page 3
