DRACULA
RISE OF THE BEAST
Bogi TAKÁCS
Adrian TCHAIKOVSKY
Milena BENINI
Emil MINCHEV
Caren GUSSOFF SUMPTION
Edited by David Thomas MOORE
An Abaddon Books™ Publication
www.abaddonbooks.com
[email protected]
First published in 2018 by Abaddon Books™, Rebellion Publishing Limited, Riverside House, Osney Mead, Oxford, OX2 0ES, UK.
Design: Sam Gretton, Oz Osborne and Maz Smith
Marketing and PR: Remy Njambi
Commissioning Editor: David Thomas Moore
Editor-in-Chief: Jonathan Oliver
Head of Books and Comics Publishing: Ben Smith
Creative Director and CEO: Jason Kingsley
Chief Technical Officer: Chris Kingsley
Cover design by Sam Gretton, based on a 15th-century painting of Vlad Dracula and the cover of the 1916 edition of Bram Stoker’s Dracula.
All stories copyright © 2018 Rebellion. All rights reserved.
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ISBN: 978-1-78618-101-5
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.
This is a work of fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this book are fictional, and any resemblance to real people or incidents is purely coincidental.
“I shall then make
known to you
something of the
history of this man,
which has been ascertained for me.”
Abraham VAN HELSING
CONTENTS
Prologue
The Souls of Those Gone Astray From the Path, Bogi Takács
Noblesse Oblige, Adrian Tchaikovsky
A Stake Too Far, Milena Benini
Children of the Night, Emil Minchev
The Woman, Caren Gussoff Sumption
About the Authors
Also by Abaddon
PROLOGUE
From: Jonathan Holmwood ([email protected])
To: Dani Văduvă ([email protected])
Date: January 11, 2018
Subject: Re: Mina Harker?
Hi Dani,
I must admit to being a bit surprised by your contact; I haven’t thought much about all this for years! Yes, I am that Jonathan Holmwood—Wilhelmina Harker was my great-grandmother on my mother’s side.
I can’t actually tell you a lot about her: she died before I was born. Grandad Quincey talked about her a lot, but never about the business with D—. Mum apparently asked him about it once, after she married, and he said he’d “seen enough evil in the trenches without going chasing after ghosts and goblins.” We only actually found Mina’s letter when we sorted through his house, after he passed on.
That said, I may be of some help anyway. Dad had his own copy of Mina’s file—his grandfather, Arthur, was another one of the hunters—and even added to it, after digging up some of D—’s history. I guess he wanted to understand the why of it all, in a way Van Helsing never bothered. I added to it myself as a young man, and again twenty years or so later when the Soviet Union collapsed; but I lost interest in it not long after that.
I’ll see if I can dig up the old journal and scan it over the weekend; look out for more emails in the next few days.
And Dani? Good luck. I’m honestly not sure if what you’re doing is the most sensible thing, although I appreciate you feel like you don’t have a choice. I looked at /r/fanghunters like you asked, and a lot of it seems legitimate, from what I know, but be careful about exposing yourself there. If nothing else, there’s no reason they couldn’t be lurking there too.
Thank you,
JH
ONE
THE SOULS OF THOSE GONE ASTRAY FROM THE PATH
Interlude
From: Jonathan Holmwood ([email protected])
To: Dani Văduvă ([email protected])
Date: January 13, 2018
Subject: Re: Mina Harker?
Hi Dani,
Okay, part one. This is the oldest source, although it was nearly the last I got my hands on, back in 1992.
You’re too young to remember life before the internet. (A lot of chaps my age grumble on about the good old days before iPhones and computers, but blow all that for a game of soldiers, the internet’s great.) But back when I was your age, if you wanted to find anything out, you had to go to a library—and if it was in any way obscure or unusual, often a particular library, somewhere bloody miles away, even in another country.
And then, of course, this was before the Wall came down; I suppose your mother could tell you more about that time. What my father and I both struggled with, in our researches, was that most of the best, oldest sources on D— and his career were stuck in the Eastern Bloc, and all but impossible to get at, even with money and connections. Austria was open, of course, and I had some luck with Yugoslavia in the ’sixties, but Hungary and Romania were right out. Any number of lines of enquiry cut off, doors slammed in our faces, as we hit that invisible line across Central Europe.
And then we watched on the telly as soldiers broke down the Berlin Wall, and it all changed. I started making some phone calls that evening, as I recall, half-cut on whiskey and goodwill.
It took me a couple of years, but I ended up making contact with Mózes Mendel, a professor at the Rabbiképző in Budapest, who’d written a couple of papers about the treatment of Jews in the Kingdom of Hungary around the time of D—’s career, and who—it had been strongly hinted to me—might be able to answer some of my questions.
Rabbi Mendel was a lovely chap, and spoke better English than I did, thank heaven; but it took me three meetings with him before he eventually came up with this: a collection of letters and papers passed down from an ancestor of his. He wouldn’t be drawn on the implications, even after I explained who I was, and about my family’s history with D—, but it’s clear his family treated the threat very seriously, or why would they have held them so close, for so long?
At any rate, here they are.
Thanks,
JH x
THE SOULS OF THOSE GONE ASTRAY FROM THE PATH
Bogi Takács
Letter from Jakab Mendel the Elder to Rabbi Izsák the Scribe
With the Aid of the Heavens
The 21st of Av, the year 5235 since Creation
July 25, 1475
Esteemed Rabbi Izsák,
I hope this letter finds you well, and the weather in Provence brings a speedy recovery for you. The winter here has been difficult, and the Court is all aflutter and restless.
I would like to ask your advice, for it is said that the one who understands shall know. Nothing is new under the Sun, and yet I find myself concerned about a situation developing in Pest-Buda. Everyone from maids to courtiers is gossiping about the King’s former captive, Vlad of Wallachia the Third—also known as Drakulya after his father, who was a member of the knightly Order of the Dragonists.
The King released Vlad after fourteen years of imprisonment and recognized his claim to Wallachia, and no one understands the reasons to this change. Vlad settled down on the Pest side of the river and has been avoiding social events, mostly staying in his house. The word is, he even attacked a young messenger sent to invite him to a ball in the Buda castle.
Ever since Vlad has been released, King Mátyás
seems distraught. Whenever I talk to the King in my capacity as prefect of all Jews in the Kingdom of Hungary, he moans and groans, his eyes tired and his face worn. Last week before Shabbes I suggested to him that it would elevate his mood to remarry, which suggestion he took with the utmost animosity. I know well that he no longer mourns poor young Katalin, may she rest in peace. So I could not understand his abrupt anger and shouting. You of all people understand I do not wish to alienate the King; the safety of the entire nation of Israel in Hungarian exile depends on his continued goodwill. I did manage to calm him, but sometimes he has the ferocity of a lion.
Yet this is not what most concerns me. We are all familiar with the stories of how he wanders the countryside, disguised as a simple peasant, determined to uncover the true state of his kingdom. He remains well-respected for it despite his occasional cruelty and the high taxes he imposes upon his subjects. And yet I have always wondered how he can hide his identity; his portraits are widely dispersed across the land, and he has a distinctive profile.
This past week I believe I have come closer to understanding this mystery. After I had left the audience-room and gone down the stairs, I realized with alarm that I had forgotten to ask the King for his royal signature and seal on an important document concerning the planned reconstruction of the Main Synagogue. I hastened to return and ask the guards for readmittance, and seeing that they had already left their posts, I pushed open the heavy door. I hoped that the King would forgive my impertinence based on our longstanding good relations, despite his recent capricious mood.
In the room, I saw a thin, reedy youngster in the King’s royal garb, the Crown of Hungary in his hands. He gazed upon the crown, shook his head and murmured “Vlad, Vlad...”—at least, that was what I could make out.
Now, you should understand that I do not hold by the Magyars’ beliefs about the Crown, and especially not its sanctity stemming from the Papal dispensation. But I felt that if I were to preempt this blatant lèse-majesté, the King might reward me, and through me all Jews of the kingdom.
I yelled at the unknown stranger to stop, and called upon the guards. He looked up at me, tearing his gaze from the Crown with palpable difficulty—and as he turned his head, I saw his visage change like water rippling in a pond. His nose sharpened and his brow thickened, the reddish-blond curls of his hair fell on his shoulders as if someone had pulled them out of his skull. His shoulders broadened and his form filled out his limply hanging garb.
The King, having regained his usual leonine appearance, spoke to me with much aggravation. He berated me for having disturbed his peace, and he barely deigned to sign the document, telling me to ask his majordomo for the royal seal. Knowing I had overstayed my welcome, I hurried out.
On our next meeting, he acted as if nothing had happened, and certainly gave no indication that I had seen him change his shape. Yet I am certain my eyes did not betray me. This was not a vision like the Prophets speak of, an appearance of a likeness, hard for the mind to fathom; but rather, something plain as day.
This is why I ask you for your advice, as you have a reputation for being a Master of the Name, and knowing about all that is revealed as well as all that has been hidden. Do you think the King is consorting with forces of the Other Side, and if so, what steps should I take to safeguard my soul and protect the people I lead? I would be glad for your guidance. As I have said above, the safety of the entire community depends on my continued good relations with the King.
Please answer with the returning courier if possible; I have instructed him to wait a day or two while you compose your answer, if necessary. You can make use of the enclosed funds for his room and board—I know you would not accept compensation for teaching Torah, but I hope you accept this small kindness from one who has been blessed with earthly abundance.
I have paid one of the few Magyar youths not hostile to us to observe the actions of Vlad of Wallachia, but the lord has not left his house in over a week now, and so my knowledge is limited. I have also asked one of my nephews to keep an eye on King Mátyás and his disguised excursions, and I will send you his report as soon as I have it. Please excuse his brusque language and his lack of facility with the written word; what he lacks in Torah learning and scholarship, he makes up for in physical ability and discretion.
I look forward to receiving your answer—G-d willing, hopefully soon.
In peace,
Jakab Mendel the Elder
Letter from Jakab Mendel the Elder to Rabbi Izsák the Scribe
With the Aid of the Heavens
The 27th of Av, the year 5235 since Creation
July 31, 1475
Esteemed Rabbi Izsák, my good friend and respected teacher,
I have not heard from you, but the courier is not expected to return so soon. Provence is a great distance away even with horse-swapping, and one cannot ride all day and night. Yet I do not dare entrust these missives to strangers.
I have received the report I mentioned in my previous letter. My young nephew has observed some truly startling events. I am sending this report to you with another of my trusted men, hoping that this will enable you to provide more advice—for I follow the Sages’ advice that it is only by wise counsel that one should wage war. If you think “war” is too belligerent a word, please reserve your judgment until you have finished reading the report.
All the best,
Jakab Mendel the Elder
The following report was enclosed with the letter:
To the Rabbi.
This is an accurate account of all that I have seen while I was walking in quest of the Jewish Prefect—that is, spying. I swear by G-d it is all accurate. It is all just as I have seen it!
First I interrogated the Prefect about the King’s disguised appearance. He said, “the King is thin, tall, his hair is shorter and straight. His nose is ordinary, his face is smoother and he is not so ugly!!”
I would not even imagine to be able to shadow the King Himself, in his shape as King of the Kingdom, guarded by many guards wherever he goes. But I thought I could start to follow him once he has changed to his hidden shape!!
Of course you say “What if he can take three shapes, four shapes, any shape?” But I think what a man is accustomed to, a man likes to repeat. For instance I like to drink beer.
When night began to fall, I deposited myself in a place where many servants like to come and go, a courtyard of some kind. I thought, “He can change his shape but he probably does not disguise the way he walks.” So I was looking for a man built like a reed who walks with the girth of a lion. Or maybe a bear, but truly everyone compares the King to a lion. They also say he is Just, but then why do both the nobles and the peasants grumble about taxes constantly??
Then I saw a young very angry man: thin, tall, his hair shorter and straight, his nose ordinary, his face smooth and well he was not all that appealing, but not ugly after all. He strode across the courtyard like a bull and as if he was twice the width that he was. He bumped into people and swore at them imperiously like a King. They laughed and mocked him, but he just brushed past them and into the shadows he went!!
I followed him and it was hard so the Prefect should pay me well, please Rabbi put in a good word for me. He (not the Prefect) has a very keen sense of hearing and also possibly smell. Though I did wash. Smell can betray you. It made me think maybe he can smell my freshly washed clothes!! As strange as that sounds.
He made his way across the river and to Pest!! What on earth would one want to do in Pest. Well he went to see the Lord Vlad of Wallachia who is now supposedly the rightful ruler of his land but with no army and thus he spends his time moping in his many rooms. Though I did not actually see that. I was waiting outside and waiting, it was very boring.
Eventually he came out looking very frustrated. If I had not known he had gone to see Lord Vlad I would have thought him a lover thwarted. Alas! I needed to find a further explanation.
I followed him from a safe distance and he turn
ed toward the orchards on the eastern side. I was perplexed and got even more perplexed as his demeanour changed and he now seemed like a man on the hunt! Even from the distance I could see him lean forward and stalk ahead, looking more like a hunting dog in this twig-thin shape than a lion. I was getting much concerned because I do not like to think of my King as some kind of predatory animal and yet this was exactly the impression he was making!
Of course if he is some kind of monster from the Other Side that would explain everything and yet isn’t he supposed to be not just King Mátyás but King Mátyás the Just?!
What I saw next made me rethink the whole part about “Just” for I witnessed with my own two eyes him stalking up to a young maiden who had been waiting outside. King or no King I was ready to interfere.
Yet the maiden seemed friendly to him and this gave me pause!! But she also looked dazed and as if asleep on her feet. I know peasants have so much hard labor especially with these “Just” taxes and all. But this seemed like something else—for it was at the King’s sight she got moon-charmed and wavery! And then the King bit her on the neck and made a loud slurping sound and ran off just as fast as he had come!!!!
I gathered my courage and went up to the maiden but I could hardly get a word out of her!! She was completely dazed and could not say anything!! I returned to my abode and swore to come back the next day.
Dracula Page 1
