The new mill is completed. Targsor will be a bustling route of trade by the spring thaw as Vladimir predicted. Now we await response from Hunyadi and Matthias. Mordecai agrees Vladimir should focus on the undertaking of marriage. He has made arrangements for the daughter of Urisevi Batishiaiori Bas to attend the Viovode Ritual of the Dracul announcing Vladimir’s return as the rightful heir two weeks following Easter. Mordecai says that her name is Elisabeta Bes - a striking beauty whose pious nature will be a compliment to Vladimir’s devout character. I pray he will find her a suitable woman to court. Such a match would be pleasing in the eyes of God and would unite the Romanian and Wallachian courts, strengthening our nation not only in the eyes of God, but also as a country.
Ahbrim Baserab’s Journal
Targoviste
Easter 1448
The repairs at Targoviste, Vladimir hastened in preparation for the feast this day. Mordecai arrived two days past to begin preparing the Cathedral for the services at sunrise. I must attest to the fact the Boyars appeared surprised at the reception they received upon their arrival. Vladimir himself greeted each one and bid them welcome to his temporary home. He says he will make his announcement of the betrothal of his hand to Elisabeta Bes of Romania. Never have I before seen a man so taken with a woman. Certainly, it is as God intends.
Vladimir will host the wedding here in the summer. He says he wishes to have the splendor of God surround her so that even the heavens may look down upon her beauty the day he weds her. “No expense is to be spared,” he said, smiling. An expression I so rarely have the pleasure of seeing. Vladimir loves her deeply. It is a greater gift than even I could have hoped God would have bestowed upon him.
Her father placed Mordecai as her guardian while she resided at Targoviste until the nuptials. Mordecai then placed Elisabeta in my charge.
He said, “What better a man to care for her soul than the man who also cares for her husband.”
She is a very pious woman, shy, and rarely raises her eyes to gaze upon another, even when she is spoken to, with the exception of Vladimir, whom she looks directly in the eye, but only if I am at her side. She is a virtuous woman, which I believe to be one of the reasons that she is so endearing to him. In his absences, I have no doubt her faithfulness will never be questioned.
The Pope has sent his own tailors to suit the couple for their wedding. Vladimir is to lead a Crusade against the Ottomans for the Pope, beginning only days after their marriage, as gratitude for his continued blessing and support. His blessing he also lends to their wedding. Mordecai says it is rumored Pios himself might attend their nuptials and bless their marriage bed so that it might be fruitful. How glorious that day shall be for them both.
There is much yet to prepare for this night’s dinner for the Boyars. Elisabeta will not be attending, at Vladimir’s request, as it for the Boyars and their Knights. He had requested that Mordecai and I attend along with the Wallachian Guard. An announcement of great importance this night is to be made, he has said, one that will change Wallachia forever.
Evening-tide
“Come Ahbrim, sit next to me,” he said as dinner began.
His mood appeared somber as the Boyars gathered, taking their places around the large table in the dining hall. Their numbers were nearly one hundred as they gathered with their sons. Vladimir spoke little throughout the course of the meal. He appeared to grow more agitated as the evening progressed while he observed their every action, angered by their lack of manners and greed as they continuously served themselves again and again without first asking their host. He stroked his moustache as he glared slightly, a silent indicator of his displeasure. Even Mordecai took note of his rising anger.
Suddenly, Vladimir rose from the table without warning. His guard stood to attention at his standing, startling the Boyars as they ate.
“Tell me, as a Regent Boyar each of you, how many in the House of Baserab have you served, or how many Princes have you seen pass?”
He circled the table, his arms behind his back, his hands interlaced as he paused behind each Boyar.
The first Boyar was more aged than the others. His four sons surrounded him.
“I have seen seventeen in the House of Baserab serve, Prince.”
“And yet you have continued though each of them has fallen. This is true?”
The Boyar nodded his head in silence.
Vladimir cast his eyes downward before I saw the slight nod of his head as he slowly raised his eyes to his guard before moving onto the next Boyar.
“What manner of madness possesses him?” Mordecai whispered to me.
“I am not certain, Archbishop. Let it unfold as it will. Brilliance manifests through ways I myself often do not understand.”
His progression and line of questioning took hours until he reached the final two Boyars, each of them young men in their years compared to the many who surrounded them.
“How many years a Boyar have you lived?”
“But seven years, Prince Vlad.”
“And in such time what was the greatest tragedy you witnessed?”
“Is it the truth you wish to come forth or what they wish me to speak?”
His candor I could see greatly impressed Vladimir. He pushed the elder Boyar next to him from his chair, knocking him to the floor, and took the chair next to the young Boyar.
“This man who sets next to you, his resemblance is strong. He is your brother, I assume.”
“He is my lord.”
“And what house do you serve?”
“We serve the House of Baserab. We are born of the House of Nasady.”
“And what truth would you speak to me?’
“The truth, Prince Vladimir, is my people starve under heavy taxation. My brother and I sought to eliminate this, but were faced with staunch opposition, with only one supporter on our side: your brother Mircea, may he rest in peace. I sit at the end of the table not because I am the youngest, but because I am ostracized.”
“What is your given name and that of your brother?” Vladimir asked as Mordecai and I looked on.
“I am Nicolai; my brother, Velascon.”
They were the only two Boyars who sat at the table over which Vladimir did not nod. He also did not nod over the sons of the Boyars who sat at the table.
“Come Nicolai and Velascon; join Ahbrim and Mordecai at the head of the table where men of honorable intentions are gathered.”
All eyes were on the Nasady men as they passed. Curses and insults were uttered beneath the breaths of the Boyars. My worst fears were realized as I watched Vladimir lift his right hand to signal his guard.
“Kill only the ones who will not be able to labor,” he said without emotion as he picked up his chalice and called for his wine. I watched in horror as their heads rolled across the table while Vladimir dined as though the bloody spectacle was not transpiring before him.
“You are mad,” Mordecai screamed, as he leapt from the table.
“I am sensible. They shall steal from my kingdom no more.”
With no emotion, Vladimir tore his bread, offering it to Nicolai and Velascon.
“Truth is rewarded. Honesty is rewarded. You, Nicolai, and your brother, are honest men who served my brother faithfully and now you shall serve me. Take those who live from my sight to Poenari. Oversee the rebuilding of my home. Make ready the castle for the arrival of the Princess. Do not disappoint me.”
Nicolai paused as though he wished to speak.
“Never fear me, Nicolai, unless you have been unfaithful to the House of Baserab. Speak what you know is that which is in your heart.”
“They will not be sufficient for the work that lays ahead, my lord. I know many stone cutters who serve the House of Nasady who would be honored to say they serve the true Baserab.”
“You may hire as many as needed so long as they do not labor but to cut the stone. Am I understood?”
“Yes, my lord.” Nicolai motioned to the Royal Guard to remove the remain
ing Boyars and their sons.
“And, Nicolai, do not treat them well because they are Boyars. I expect them to be treated no better than they have treated those they had in their keep. Should they die in my service, then so be it.”
“I understand.”
“This is not the will of God,” Mordecai interjected.
“You are not an anointed Soldier of God, Mordecai. You are a caretaker of souls. Do what you must and pray for their souls but know this: do not interfere in my affairs or that of my country. No man, be he a man of God or not, will stand between what God and I must do to cleanse Wallachia of the evil and sin bred here.”
I stood as Vladimir left. Mordecai retched upon his leaving, sickened at the sight before him.
“Pios must be told of this,” he whispered.
“You will speak of this not, not to Pios, not to anyone. This matter you will leave to me.”
“He will be our undoing. God save us.” Mordecai crossed himself as he backed toward the door.
“God will save us, Mordecai, just as God chose to protect and save our Vladimir while he endured those devils. Yet in the darkness he endured, he turned not from God, and instead he turned toward Him, embraced Him, taking His words and commandments into his heart. His methods you find harsh. But I tell you, in this man who stood before you, there is the will of God; a will so strong, even the devil could not pull his faith from him. You may abandon him. You may turn your back on him. In my charge, you placed him. I will not do so. I will never turn from him.”
I sat alone, without Vladimir, without the Guard, with only my prayers and the severed heads of the Boyars lying about the table as I prayed. Fifty-four of the Boyars lay dead. Their families soon to be exiled; their wealth soon to be seized. I spent the next four hours removing their bodies and preparing their souls, offering last rites to deliver them to their judgment. Hours later, when Vladimir returned, I sat alone, the hall now cleared of the atrocities I had witnessed.
“You are not troubled by my actions this day, Ahbrim. I find this distressing.”
I could barely turn my gaze toward him as the events of the day were still fresh in my memory.
“Would it please you if I cowered at your feet?” I asked.
“In my presence you should never cower, Ahbrim. I merely assumed your countenance would be shaken. You do understand, I hope, why this must be done.”
My silence conveyed my displeasure. I did not condone it. As his spiritual guardian, I would support him, no matter the cost.
“You worry so much, Ahbrim. Come, we shall pray for them to find peace and to know God in death, the way they did not know him in life.”
I prayed with him before the same altar that would witness the sanctity of marriage to his Elisabeta. His words sincere and heartfelt as he prayed, I wondered how one man could be such a contradiction; one moment filled with piety and the next with cruelty. Those questions I asked God as I knelt next to Vladimir as we prayed that He would give me clarity. For in my heart I cannot find the strength to condemn Vladimir for his actions. I feel a closeness to him that is inexplicable. Perhaps it is the will of God that I was to be his guardian, for I believe now I understand him as no other man could.
Chapter Six
Ahbrim Baserab’s Journal
Targoviste
24 March 1448
Vladimir’s spirits are high this day, as the jeweler has arrived from Belgrad. He had commissioned a piece be made for Elisabeta: a large silver and amethyst brooch to be given to her on their wedding night. Not even a day has passed since the Easter execution of the Boyars. It as though it has not even happened. His only mention was to send word to surviving members of their families they will be stripped of their titles and removed from their estates, but not of their wealth. He will allow them half of what they secured in their treasury, a generous act considering his feelings toward them.
30 March 1448
Elisabeta spends much time tutoring in preparation for the marriage. She has, in her entourage, four ladies in waiting on whom she keeps a watchful eye. She is nearly as stern as Vladimir in her expectation of purity.
Her education I find impeccable. Schooled in four languages, she is also skilled in mathematics, astronomy, and common arts. She is very articulate and demands no less than two hours of devotional studies from her attendants each day; yet I find she kind hearted and free spirited, as well. She takes long walks in the spring snows with Vladimir to discuss his day each evening. She will, no doubt, make a devoted and loving wife.
She will temper his ways with her loving nature. She is the balance Vladimir lacks, the kindness and tenderness he was not shown while he was kept as Royal prisoner. Such formative years he spent without the loving hand of his mother to guide him. I believe this darkened him. It is a barrier yet unbroken. A journal he kept in the last year of his imprisonment that I have not seen, but he has spoken of it. I have seen him put quill to paper many times in my presence. What he writes, I know not. If in it, he keeps what it is he plans for Wallachia, or if it merely be his daily thoughts, I am not privy. Perhaps it is how he clears his thoughts at the end of the day, how Vladimir makes his peace with God. I know only this - to his subjects he is devoted, to Elisabeta he is loving, and to God he is dutiful. A man cannot ask for much more.
Vladimir Dracul’s Journal
Enroute to Poenari Castle
26 March 1448
Today I travel to Poenari to witness the progress of the Castle. I have no doubt Nicolai and Velascon have made great strides.
Targoviste is much improved. Targsor makes ready to receive trade in one month’s time. This morn an emissary brought word from Matthias Corvinus and Hunyadi. They have agreed to a truce between the Houses. How blessed this day God has made. The good name of Baserab restored, as it should be. In one week’s time, Corvinus and Hunyadi will arrive. I have charged Elisabeta with the preparation of a great feast in their honor. There is no doubt she will serve my intentions faithfully and have Ahbrim assist her in the preparations. He has proved to be a dutiful aid to her.
I have considered at length, telling him what is known to be the truth in my heart. He has never questioned me about his name, that he bears the surname of the House of Baserab. It is curious that such questions have never come between us in conversation. I, as a man, would want to know from whence I came, whom was my family. Surely, he must know that he is my brother. Only five members of the House of Baserab survived, my father, Mircea, Ahbrim, myself, and he whose name I will not mention as he is no longer considered to be a Baserab after what he has done. How can it be that Ahbrim does not question this, the name that he bears? Perhaps he questions it not, because I am no longer known as Baserab, but as Dracul since my induction into the Order, but I shall always be a Baserab. My father was the first Dracul, I, his son, am called Dracuala, or son of Dracul, by the Romanians who faithfully serve me. Perhaps it is in this that the confusion lies for Ahbrim. Yet, he is my brother, the only flesh and blood that can be acknowledged. I will have faith that God shall show me the path that must be taken for Ahbrim and when it is the truth should be revealed.
Chapter Seven
Vladimir Dracul’s Journal
Poenari Castle
17 April 1448
Matthias and Hunyadi arrived this day eager to discuss all that had happened during my father’s reign and to express their condolences at my loss.
“Mircea was a great man, a great ruler. I have no doubt you will equal him,” Hunyadi said.
“Your words are both kind and appreciated. I must offer my deepest regrets at the betrayal that occurred between our families. I assure you no such betrayal will occur, so long as I am Viovode.”
“Your loyalty to the Order has never been questioned, Vladimir. I understand your arrangement between the House of Bes and the House of Baserab was well received. We have brought gifts as a token of our wishes for a fruitful marriage. You are pleased with her?” Matthias asked.
“She is a pio
us woman, whose company is delightful. I find her skilled in strategic planning as well. An unusual trait in a woman, I must admit.”
Matthias, Hunyadi, and I discussed our plans at length to push the Ottoman Horde away from the Hungarian border. Many of the cities and villages would fall to the Turks without the aid of the Order. We discussed strategy until the early hours of the morning. Ahbrim, who I have present at every decision, was our scribe during our meeting. God willing, our campaign will be successful. I have requested Ahbrim to send word to Pope Pios with our intentions so that we may receive his blessing. Matthias and Hunyadi are more understanding of the order at Targoviste and that I would not be able to join them until the second of June. I shall leave two days following the wedding. I must speak with Elisabeta of our plans. I pray she will not be angered that I must wage war so soon following our marriage. The campaign could consume months of my time. I know not how quickly I shall return.
Hunyadi has agreed to bring his army from the north, Matthias, his army from the east, and I, my army from the south to force the Turks from Wallachia. Fortifications must remain outside Campulung in anticipation of their arrival. The river below will aid us greatly in their defeat. We shall force them into the Carpathians where Matthias shall have archers lying in wait. Once we have devastated their ranks, it will be with greater ease to flank them with no means of escape. Hunyadi and Matthias return tomorrow to their provinces, and I will make ready all that needs done in Wallachia to grant our success.
Memoirs of an Immortal Life Page 4
