“What are you waiting for?” he shouted.
“I want to see you squirm.”
“Never.”
“Beg for your life.”
He opened his jaws and bared his fangs. Craiovescu looked at the face of a monster. As hard as he found it he kept his resolve. “I will never ask you for anything.”
Mihnea was tempted to bite into his neck. He knew though if he did not drink all of Craiovescu’s blood then his most hated enemy would return after the infection had killed him, if the Black Ones did not claim his soul in time. If any blood remained in his veins then Craiovescu would need the blood of his creator to quench that first thirst. Mihnea did not want that. Indeed he did not want to even taste the man’s blood. He had consumed more than enough that night. To satisfy his need for revenge he wanted to see his enemy suffer and die a slow death.
He grabbed the boyar by the hand and slowly crushed his fingers. Craiovescu cried out at the intense pressure exerted by the vampire. Before he could draw another breath, Mihnea grabbed a hold of his other hand and did the same again.
When Mihnea let go, Craiovescu drew his crushed hands up to his chest. He whimpered with fear, knowing he was powerless to stop this fiend punishing him. Mihnea stepped forward and struck with a fist into his chest. The blow knocked all the wind out of Craiovescu and hurled him backwards against a wall.
He lurched forward, but Mihnea struck him with an elbow to the top of the head that knocked him back again. His enemy then drew a blade and followed up with a vicious swipe that struck the right side of his face. The blow opened a gash two inches wide and five inches long, severing the muscles and tendons in the jaw. A spray of blood struck Mihnea in the face, but did not deter him.
Craiovescu reeled in shock and was powerless to prevent the array of strikes that came his way. Mihnea cut his chest, wrists and ended the assault with a fatal blow to the side of the neck. His enemy fell down to the floor with blood pouring from his wounds. He tried to put one of his broken hands to his neck to stem the flow of blood, but it poured out over his shattered knuckles and down over his clothing.
Mihnea stood there for a moment watching him choke and gasp for breath. He tossed the blade away and wiped his hand on the back of Craiovescu’s shirt. “Good luck in Hell. You will need it.”
Ruxandra had almost reached the mountains by the time her father caught up. He took Iaxici from her. Already the Serb was showing signs of illness from the bite on his neck.
Mihnea carried him all the way to Sibiu. Even with the burden of Iaxici he flew much faster than his daughter. He did not wait for her.
He arrived at Sibiu in the last hour before dawn. Iaxici had lost all the strength from his limbs. He sweated profusely, in need of blood to make the pain go away. Mihnea denied him it. He set his former assassin down on the steps of the church, not caring for the state he was in.
“Do you remember what you did to me here?” Mihnea yelled at him.
Iaxici did not answer. He did not have the strength. Mihnea slapped him hard across the face. It left an imprint against his deathly white skin.
“I have waited long for this moment,” Mihnea said, as he loomed over him. “You will rue the day you ever crossed paths with me.”
Ruxandra arrived just as Mihnea smashed down the doors of the church. He grabbed Iaxici by the collar and flew inside. She did not follow. The images alone in the stained glass windows above made her afraid.
Careful not to touch the ground Mihnea flew to the site of his crypt. He dropped Iaxici down and moved the huge stone slab that covered it to one side. He then bit into Iaxici’s gaping wound. The Serb dangled helpless in his arms until Mihnea drank enough of his blood to kill him. When he was done he then threw the Serb down into the empty grave.
Mihnea breathed with satisfaction once he had covered it again with the huge slab. In a few hours Iaxici would awaken as a vampire drone. He would have an insatiable thirst. For as long as he remained alive in there he would suffer from the worst cravings. But there was no way out for him. It was a fitting revenge.
In the next week Vladislav ousted Badica from power in Tirgoviste. He had him hanged in the piata. It was the very same spot where Dracula’s mother had met her end. Two days later Afumati came with a Turkish army and seized the throne. Mihnea and Ruxandra left Sibiu never to return.
Castile. The palace of Emperor Charles V at Madrid.
February 19, 1525.
Dracula stood on the battlements of the palace. It was a cold night in Madrid. He looked to the streets below. Already they had grown quiet. Ilona leaned into him and planted a soft kiss on his cheek.
“It is another cold night,” he said to her.
“Yes,” she agreed. “I am feeling it too.”
She moved inside his cape. He put his arm around her to shelter her from the wind. “We will feed soon. That will warm your blood.”
“Hush,” she said. “I hear someone coming.”
They looked to see the figure of the young emperor emerge up the steps. “Vlad? Are you up here?” he called out.
“I am stood over here, Charles.”
Charles looked across. He smiled and walked over to them. “Good evening, Ilona,” he said.
“Good evening, Highness,” she smiled back, offering a slight curtsy.
He looked to Dracula. “Vlad, I need your counsel.”
“Has something happened?”
“A messenger has brought word from the Italian states.”
“Then let us walk.”
“May we go inside?”
Dracula took his arm from around his wife.
“Go,” she said. “I will see you when you are done.”
They walked inside to a quiet room.
“What ails you?” Dracula asked him.
Charles’ face turned red with anger. “The Pope has signed a treaty with Francois.”
“When did this happen?”
“Two months past. Clement is a cur. I should never have supported his election.”
“Why has word taken so long to reach you?”
“I can only assume the winter has made travel difficult.”
“This means the Medicis will have sided with Francois too?”
“Yes. That is what has happened. Giovanni dei Medici has marched to Pavia with his Band Nere.”
“Then we will never raise the siege.”
“My army should be there by this time. But Francois has sent a third of his force south to take Naples.”
“That is not good news.”
“If Naples falls I will lose all my interests in the Italian states.”
“What do you propose to do?”
“I have to break the siege at Pavia. If I do not then I lose this war.”
“And how do you hope to do this?”
“I need you to go there.”
“You think I can defeat the might of the French army?”
“You could lead my army to victory.”
“You have an array of able generals.”
“I have none as good as you, Vlad.”
“The art of war has moved on since my time. I would be of little use to you there.”
“I do not believe that for a moment. You are a great general. There have been few as good.”
“Charles, I want you to succeed but…”
“I implore you, Vlad. I need you to lead my army. Do this for me.”
Dracula sighed. “Would I even get there in time?”
“You have the power of flight. You can move twenty times as fast as any man over land.”
“And how do I take command of this army? Your generals do not know me.”
“I will write a document with my seal. It will suffice.”
Dracula made a great impression on Charles at their first meeting. The two of them travelled together to Castile. There the revolt had raged out of control. It had become a violent struggle of class warfare. Charles acted quickly. The Burgundians he removed from positions of authority. H
e gave these important roles to natives of the region.
The powerful cities in the south did not join with the communeros. This was the stroke of luck Charles needed. He secured victory at the Battle of Villalar. Dracula helped him find those who led the revolt. His men rounded up two hundred and seventy of them. Juan de Padilla was one of these. Just as Dracula advised he put them to death where all could see it.
Leo died just before the end of the year. Adrian VI replaced him as Pope. This was a great comfort to Charles. The Dutch Adrian was a well known Humanist and professor of theology at Louvain. He oversaw Charles’ early education. The two had remained good friends.
Adrian’s election as Pope allowed Charles to focus on the coming war. His forces defeated the French at Bicocca. They moved on from there to Pedro Navarre where they sacked the garrison. This forced Lescun to flee with his forces back to France.
In 1523 France lost its only ally there. Venice felt its options were few and signed for peace with Charles. Giovanni dei Medici did the same. Even Francois’ trusted ally, Charles de Bourbon, conspired with the young emperor. He fled from France when his treachery came to light.
Adrian soon fell ill. The pressure of his office ate away at his health. Rhodes had just fallen to the Turks. His pleas of help to both Spain and France fell on deaf ears. Adrian died in late September. To add to Charles’ woes his Imperial forces scattered. Guillaume de Bonnivet led a counter invasion soon after. The Admiral of France met with little resistance.
His first battle was a great success. He drove a small Imperial army under Prosper Colonna all the way back to Milan. It allowed him to take Novarra without a fight.
He then marched on Milan before his men surrounded the city. They cut off the aquaducts and supply routes. With winter on its way he laid siege to it. In only two weeks his army grew as hungry as those in Milan. He had to retreat and with that the siege ended. It forced him to discharge a large number of his infantry.
In Milan, Colonna died after a long illness. Charles de Lannoy took control of the Imperial army. He held the fort until help arrived. The Duke de Urbino turned up with an army of Venetians. Charles de Bourbon also came to the rescue of the city. He brought with him ten thousand Landsknecht swordsmen from Germany.
The larger Imperial army marched out of Milan in April 1524. With great fervour they attacked Bonnivet. His forces crumbled under the assault. It forced him to retreat again to France. De Bourbon pursued him all the way. He decimated the Swiss rearguard and captured most of the artillery.
De Bourbon then marched on Marseille. But he was unable to breach the city walls. At the same time Francois assembled a new and larger army. He marched south in October. De Bourbon could not match him on the field. Francois drove him back along the same road from which he had come.
With de Bourbon out of France, Francois chose to ignore him when he should have pursued him and wiped out his force. Instead he turned east. He passed through the Alps to Saluzzo. On his way he came across a small force under de Lannoy. The general was unable to halt the French advance. He retreated once again to Milan.
The Imperial army split into three groups. Pescara waited at Pavia with his Spanish troops. De Lannoy remained at Milan. De Bourbon’s forces took to the road in smaller groups. Francois saw nothing now to stop him marching on Milan and taking the city.
But there was plague in Milan at this time. Hearing of the advance of Francois, de Lannoy abandoned it to him. He joined Pescara’s army to the south of Pavia. Francois gave chase, the French king arriving at its walls by the end of October.
The French guns pounded them. Francois did this as a prelude to a major assault. It failed and the city held firm. He saw that the River Ticino defended it on the south side. For the next month he had his men build a dam to divert its course. A powerful storm in early December wrecked these plans and washed the dam away.
Francois stood on the banks of the river to view the damage. Albany and Bonnivet stood at his side. A whole month of hard work had been lost in a matter of hours. He did not speak for a time even though he knew his generals stood close by.
Finally Albany spoke up. “Do not worry, Majesty. The idea was a good one.”
Francois turned and looked at him. “It was a waste of my time.”
“All is not lost,” Bonnivet said. “Not if we attack the city.”
“The weather is not right for another assault,” Francois said.
“The generals feel we should attack. By the morrow.”
“I am still the head of this army,” Francois argued. “Need I remind you of that?”
“No, Majesty. But it is their job to advise on such things.”
“If I want their advice I will ask them for it.”
“With respect, Majesty,” Albany said. “They are right.”
Bonnivet used it as a cue to press with his argument. “Pavia is weak at the moment. But if we wait much longer other forces will arrive.”
“Then we will defeat them too,” Francois said. “For the now we will lay siege. The men will not want to fight with the weather like this.”
“They fight when we tell them to fight.”
“Yes, Guillaume. When I tell them.”
The lack of food gnawed at the resolve of the troops inside Pavia. Their discontent grew when their wages dried up too. Many of these were German and Spanish mercenaries. Without their pay they did not want to be there. Antonio de Leyva strove hard to placate them. He was the supreme commander of all Imperial forces within the city. With great effort he managed to prevent them from deserting.
There was much happening away from Pavia. Charles supported Clement VII as his candidate for Pope. Clement was a Medici. He hoped his support might prevent the papacy from siding with Francois.
However, within a month of his election Clement changed his allegiances. He promised Francois the support of Florence and Venice. Like other Popes had done in the past, he reneged totally on the treaty he signed with Charles a year before. He signed a new one with Francois at the end of the year.
News of this reached Charles in Castile when it was too late for him to act on it. He also heard rumours of the reinforcements on their way to Francois. The French king expected more troops from Switzerland, the Valois and France.
The new treaty had a major effect. It allowed him to partition his army. He placed twelve thousand men under the command of the Duke of Albany. The duke then left for Naples. On his way he picked up another three thousand French soldiers at Lucca. Francois did this knowing the Medicis would soon join his side.
Charles’ worst fears were soon realised. Six thousand Swiss Grisons teamed up with his enemy. Another two thousand arrived then from the Valois. As expected, Giovanni dei Medici came with his famed Band Nere. It gave Francois two strong armies in the Italian states. One marched south on Naples and the other, under his direct command, laid siege to Pavia.
News of this did not reach the emperor until February. It made his situation a desperate one. Most of his forces remained trapped inside Pavia. The rest roamed the countryside. He began to fear the worst. Naples could not survive against Albany’s army. Those inside Pavia were sure to starve. Either that or they would die trying to fight their way out. It was the reason Dracula agreed to go there.
The Imperial generals gathered around Lodi and Cremona. De Bourbon brought with him five thousand cavalry and six thousand German Landsknechts. Even then, Imperial numbers only added up to eighteen thousand. This fell well short of the number camped outside Pavia. They realised they could do nothing to stop Albany. For that reason they decided to try and break the siege.
Their first target was Milan. They advanced to Marignano on the road between Lodi and there. Francois ignored them. They then turned south and besieged a thousand paid French mercenaries at Castel Sant’ Angelo. This was halfway between Lodi and Pavia.
The fortress at Sant’ Angelo fell with ease to the might of the Imperial cannon. The Imperial army then began the trek westward to
wards Pavia. Francois reacted quickly. He moved his army into a defensive formation along the west bank of the Vernavola. This was a small river that fed the Ticino.
The Imperial army advanced unchecked. It camped on the opposite bank of the river at the Casa dei Levrieri. The soldiers in each army eyed their enemy across the water. They were so close both sides could easily hurl rocks at each other.
For three weeks the two sides exchanged artillery fire. They prodded each other with the occasional sortie. One of these saw Giovanni dei Medici injured. Not only that but he lost two-thirds of his Band Nere. Meanwhile, a Milanese army under Sforza captured the town of Chiavenna. This was on the main route to the Grisons in Switzerland.
When news of this reached the French camp the Grisons there feared an invasion into their home territory. They abandoned the French cause and left for home at once. In three days Francois saw his numbers depleted by eight thousand. His army now totalled twenty thousand. This was a number equal to that of the Imperials.
The journey from Castile to Pavia took Dracula four nights to complete. The two armies came into his sights. He climbed to a great height to view the enemy positions. The French defences proved of most interest to him. He also looked for any possible avenues of attack. A heavy fog made his task a difficult one.
All seemed quiet on both sides. Even the cannon had ceased firing. Dracula spied the French cavalry and swooped down like a hawk to the makeshift stables. Choosing the finest black stallion he could find he stole the horse for his own.
It gave him a lot of trouble. His mere presence terrified all of the animals. He feared it might raise the alarm. A fight with a group of soldiers was not what he wanted and so a hard whack to the side of the head brought it to heel. He turned in the direction of the walled city. Riding past it he made his way into the heavy woods to the north. Finally he was away.
Dracula rode hard for an hour and stopped when he came to a quiet village. It lay about twenty-five miles to the north of Pavia. He slowed the horse to a walk. The hour was not late. Yet all seemed quiet.
The village looked unaffected by the events at Pavia. To them the siege may as well have been a thousand miles away. He saw it had no bearing on their lives. On a still day they might hear the cannon, but that was it. He thought this was due to the fact that the village was not on any of the main routes.
The Dracula Chronicles: Bound By Blood - Volume 2 Page 6
