by Dan Davis
It was late afternoon when we found them, stopped on the side of the road by a pond where they watered their horses and fed themselves with cold meats. We were surprised to come across them so suddenly but they were astonished at our unexpected arrival around a bend in the road. They rushed for their horses and half of them stood to fight while others took flight. Some that attempted to stop us were on horseback and others were on foot. Frightened horses without riders ran in panic. Without waiting for my men to come up beside me, I charged in amongst the enemy, killing one and knocking another from his saddle and charging through their line and on for Vladislaus. I recognised him by the crest upon his clothing and the excellence of his German armour and helm. With a glance over my shoulder I saw that some of my men were with me but not many, most having become entangled with the prince’s men.
When I turned back to the road, my horse tossed his head and attempted to turn away, for Vladislaus and his men had turned and were starting to come back for their friends.
Gritting my teeth, I pulled my horse back onto the track and raked my spurs on him. My bloody sword raised high, I shouted a wordless cry and crashed through them, taking a blow on my shoulder from a warhammer that almost knocked me sideways. I cut at them, wheeling my horse around and around, fending off blows from all sides.
My company was outnumbered but Vladislaus and his men were outmatched. They were unable to conceive how much stronger we were than they and their misplaced confidence proved to be their undoing. We killed a great many of them and caught the rest. Out of sight of the survivors, a handful of the dying were drained of their blood and we finally stopped to take stock of our victory.
Rob and Walt grinned, for between them they held Prince Vladislaus. He was shaken and furious and behind his anger was a deep fear.
“Well done, men!” I cried. “You have unseated a prince, this day!”
We began escorting Vladislaus down the mountain and had reached a flatter section of the track where the river curved away to reveal a wide meadow on one side and the woods on the other.
Approaching us was a great mass of galloping horses.
“Line up!” Walt roared. “Defensive line here! Prisoners to the rear!”
“It is Dracula,” I said.
“He got our message, then,” Rob observed as Vlad Dracula’s enormous column of horsemen came to a stop between the woods and the swift flowing river, spreading out into the meadows on either side with their long grass and array of red, purple, and white flowers.
“Bring up the prisoners,” I called.
Vlad rode closer before throwing himself off and stepping away from his men into the open space between my company and his bodyguard.
When Vladislaus was brought forward to me, I took him by the arm and walked toward Dracula. We had removed his helm when we captured him, along with most of his expensive armour, and all could see who it was that I had beside me. Vladislaus glared at me once but then he had eyes only for Vlad.
The young would-be prince stepped forward. Dracula said nothing, his face cold and hard and his eyes glaring as they came together. He looked up at Vladislaus who sneered down.
“They told me you were a skilled knight,” Vladislaus said. “But now I see that you are nothing but a little boy.”
Dracula’s face did not change, he simply stared into Vladislaus’ eyes.
“What?” Vladislaus said, scoffing. “You think you can frighten me? I know I am to be executed. What can you frighten me with?”
I spoke up. “Your men burned his older brother to death, did they not? I wonder if that’s how you will go? Or if they will remove your skin first?”
He glanced at me, angry. I laughed.
“No,” Dracula said, the first word he had spoken. “No, you shall not be burned. Nor flayed.”
Vladislaus looked down his long nose. “What is it to be, then?”
Dracula seemed not to have blinked at all. “You shall not be executed, Vladislaus.”
The voivode scoffed but I saw hope kindle in his eyes. “Ransom, is it? A wise choice. You will earn for yourself a fortune, have no doubts about that.”
Dracula did not smile but I saw that he was amused. “And who would pay this fortune for you? The boyars will raise a fortune for a man who cannot protect them and their people? Or do you mean that the Turks will pay for a king who cannot hold a kingdom?”
Vladislaus sneered. “There are many yet loyal to me.”
Dracula shook his head. “There will be no ransom.”
“What then?” Vladislaus snapped, unable to stand it a moment longer. “Not execution, not ransom. Then what?”
“It is to be combat, my lord,” Dracula said, calmly. “You against me. To the death. Now.”
Vladislaus looked at the men behind Dracula and then back to the young man. “Even if I win, I will lose.”
Dracula raised his voice but still did not turn away from his enemy. “If Vladislaus defeats me in this fair trial of combat, you shall let him and his men go free. This is my command as your lord. Do you agree to honour it?”
They called out their assent. If it came to pass, I doubted they would honour their word. Still, it was enough to give Vladislaus hope and I understood later that it was as much a matter of Vlad’s cruelty as it was his sense of honour.
Vladislaus was ordered to prepare himself and his surviving men were allowed to approach and dress him for combat, with his own armour and weapons. I was mildly annoyed because I had already claimed those fine items for myself and I was not about to have my men strip the dead man in front of his former subjects.
“You disapprove, Richard?” Vlad asked me as his squires strapped his armour on.
“I approve very much,” I said. “It is always a pleasure to see young people embracing the old ways.”
He smiled. “And you know about the old ways, do you?”
“A little.”
“And yet you do not seem happy. Is it because I have not thanked you for catching him for me?”
“I have no need for words of thanks. It is the favour of the Voivode of Wallachia that I seek.”
He stepped forward, scattering his surprised squires, and held out an armoured hand. I took it as he looked into my eyes.
“You have it, sir. We must talk, you and I. There is much to discuss.”
“Then we shall do so,” I replied, letting him go and pointing over my shoulder. “After you kill that bastard.”
His eyes were mirthless as he nodded to the squire holding his helm. “It will not take long.”
Eva came close to my side. “Walt and Rob are taking bets.”
“I would not bet against our young lord, here.”
“No? Do you not often say that in battle experience more often bests youth?”
I glanced at her. “I say no such thing.”
She scoffed.
Fully armoured, the great lords stalked toward each other as the sun touched the rim of the ridge to the west, casting deep yellow light into the valley.
Dracula feinted an attack and Vladislaus covered himself, but it was clear he had not been deceived. Their blades clashed and they withdrew, feeling each other out for a few more moments until Vladislaus launched into a furious attack. Vladislaus was taller and his blade longer and he used his reach advantage to thrust at Dracula’s face. The shorter man parried as he stepped back and back. But he was not in a blind panic and he did not retreat in a straight line, stepping and moving at oblique angles as he defended. Both men had been raised since early childhood to be great knights and had received superb instruction by experienced masters, and they had made it their business to practice throughout their lives since. Even when he had been a hostage of the Turks, he had received martial instruction.
But Vladislaus was taller and older and it became clear that he had the advantage, as slight as it was. Dracula’s attacks came up short and it seemed to all watching that the combat was certain to end only one way. Certainly, Vladislaus had sensed it and
he redoubled his efforts to break through Dracula’s defence before exhaustion overcame him. After their sharp start, their movements had taken on the rhythmic state that one reaches when weariness begins to take hold. And there are few activities in life more wearying than prolonged armoured combat.
Vladislaus gave a sudden burst of speed and caught Dracula on his helm with a powerful blow, powerful enough to knock any mortal man from his senses. The watching crowd cried out.
But Dracula did not fall. Nor was he dazed, even for a moment. Instead, a change came over him. He stopped defending and instead attacked and all trace of weariness was quite suddenly gone. Indeed, he used his sword with one hand instead of two, almost casually, as he advanced on his tired opponent.
I realised then that the fight up to then had been all deceit on Dracula’s part, feigning lesser skill than he had. It stunned Vladislaus, who began retreating in panic.
Dracula surged forward so quickly that he was almost a blur, and his sword whipped through the air, left and right, knocking away his enemy’s sword and driving him to his knees with a flurry of blows. Eva grabbed my hand and squeezed it.
Advancing on his kneeling opponent, Dracula twisted the helm from Vladislaus’ head and tossed it aside. The Voivode of Wallachia’s eyes were wide, and his face and hair were soaked with sweat.
“Look at me,” Dracula said, grasping Vladislaus’ slick hair in his gauntleted fist and pulling the man’s head back.
Just as Vladislaus opened his mouth to speak, Dracula lifted his sword hand high and drove the pommel down into the fallen man’s face, breaking the bones of his cheeks and eyes. It was powerful enough to knock Vladislaus unconscious, as his raised hands fell limp. But Dracula held his head in position and brought the pommel down again and again, until the man’s face was caved in and the insides pulped. When there was nothing left but a sucking hole, he pushed the dead man down and walked slowly back toward his horse.
The hundreds of watching men stood in silence for a long moment before one of his men cheered and then suddenly, they all were.
“Richard,” Eva said, speaking rapidly. “Did you see? See the way he moved? The speed. Do you think—”
“Yes, I saw it,” I said. “There is no doubt. Dracula is an immortal.”
8. The Battle of Belgrade
1456
“I would have you stay,” Dracula said as I prepared to mount my horse. All around us, the field swarmed with men and horses, assembled for the ride to the west. “You and your entire company.”
“It would please me to stay,” I said to Dracula, “and there is much to discuss. But there is not a moment to be lost. Belgrade must not fall.”
“There is no doubt about that,” he replied, shading his eyes with a hand and wincing. He wore a broad-brimmed black hat and gloves. I recalled that he had always been well covered when outside, especially in the bright summer sun. “I wish that I could fight also. There is little I would prefer in all the world than to fight a great battle against Mehmed. Alas, it shall have to wait. I cannot leave the land I have not yet completely won.”
“I understand, my lord, and when we have smashed the Turk at Belgrade, I shall return.”
“Do you think you shall?” Dracula replied.
“Return?”
“Smash the Turk. Hunyadi has not managed to do so yet. Not when it truly mattered.”
“We must,” I said. “If Belgrade falls, they will be across and into Hungary and from there, where can they not go?”
He nodded, his face unreadable. It was as though he did not care either way.
I hesitated. So many questions were on my mind but I could not ask them. Not yet. “What will you do now, my lord, if I may ask?”
“There are many men I must speak with. Wallachia must be put into good order. The traitors must be discovered and punished, and good men put in their place. I hope that you will return soon, with as many of my soldiers as possible. I need them. Wallachia needs them.”
“You need them to return?” I asked. “Or do you need them to kill the Turks?”
Dracula’s mouth twitched. “They have been poorly led in past years. My predecessors gave orders that they stay intact, no matter what. I have ordered these men to do their duty and kill twice their number in Turks, and to show Christendom that Wallachia is resolved to destroying the enemies of Christ. I will not have my people shamed once again.”
“I am very glad to hear it, my lord.”
“Come back, Richard.”
He held out his hand and I took it.
“I will, my lord.”
Dracula had already turned away to speak to his lords as I mounted and rode to my men, who sat watching me.
“Getting on rather well with the little bastard,” Walt said, “aren’t you, Richard?”
“I think he likes me,” I said.
“He is luring you in with false courtesies,” Stephen said. “So that he can catch you and kill you.”
I tilted my head. “Thank you for your unique insight, Stephen, it had not occurred to me that one of William’s immortals may mean me harm.”
He blustered. “I simply meant that he will kill you the moment he has the chance and—”
“But he has had the chance,” Eva said, cutting him off. “Many times. Something has stayed his hand. Perhaps he is not certain about Richard, or perhaps there is some other reason. Perhaps there is something he wishes to know before he acts. Or it may be that he wants you as an ally after all. Perhaps William has sent him with orders to win you over.”
“Fat chance of that,” Rob said. “Right, Richard?”
“We do not know what he wants,” I said. “I do not know how much it matters. There may be an advantage in capturing him and questioning him about William before we kill him. And before we capture him and kill him, we must come up with a plan that does not lead to us all being slaughtered by an army of his men. But first, before all that, we must go to Belgrade. For all we know, the Turks have already reached it.”
“We ride with Wallachian horsemen,” Walt observed. “Many of them are the very same Wallachian horsemen that abandoned us at Varna.”
“Yes,” I said.
“And they deserted again at Kosovo.”
“Many are the same men, certainly.”
Walt nodded. “And these same lads are our allies now?”
“We are riding with them, that is all. When we reach Belgrade, Hunyadi will know not to trust these men.” I thought of Dracula’s earlier words. “Besides, they may not act as they have before.”
My men were not convinced.
“What if they do not flee,” Walt said, “but instead attack. Dracula is one of William’s and he will have ordered these men to fall upon the Hungarians at just the right moment. Did that occur to you?”
“I will warn Hunyadi, do not fear. Until then, we must treat our companions with respect and courtesy. Understand?”
“Can I not just keep apart from them instead?” Walt grumbled.
“Once our business in Belgrade is finished, we must return here and capture and kill their new prince. We cannot make enemies amongst the soldiery before then, and so you will be courteous,” I said, wagging a finger at him. “Like the knight you are. Come on.”
***
We marched first with the Hungarian and Transylvanian mercenaries from Wallachia across the plains to the Danube, crossing by boat, and then up into the mountains toward northern Serbia. The mercenaries knew they would be paid when they reached the Hungarian army at Belgrade but they also looked forward to the prospect of enormous quantities of loot, assuming of course that the Turks could be defeated.
We pushed hard and I drove my company faster than many of the others, gaining distance every day. The land was teeming with soldiers from all over, heading for Belgrade. There is no doubt that there were Turkish spies everywhere also, whether they were Anatolian, Bulgarian, Serbian, or Wallachian.
My company gained half a day and then a full day and so
on we were one company out a day ahead of the mercenaries and the Wallachians a day behind them. It was no simple thing to cross from the plains of Wallachia into Serbia and the hills and valleys between the two seemed endless. It was a sparsely populated land but our guides knew their business and every day we rose early and stopped late. It was gruelling travel, especially for my mortal servants, but I dared not miss the battle. There was no doubt in my mind that William would be there and God alone knew what atrocities he could commit with his red-robed immortals. We could not face him directly, not yet, but we could not abandon our allies to face them alone, either.
Once we dropped down from the hills into the long, north-south valleys of Serbia, the going was far easier. We headed north, toward the Danube again, before crossing three wide, fertile plains as we headed west once more.
I grew up in hill country but where Derbyshire was rounded and filled with bright, verdant greens, and the rocks were warm, soft limestone and sandstone, Serbia was a land of all dark greens and the stone was jagged, hard and harsh, in deep greys and red-browns, and the soil thin and black. It seemed nowhere in the entire land was flat, other than their three valleys in the northeast, even as we followed the Danube for the final leg of the journey to the massive city that was our destination and our great hope for stopping the relentless advance of the Turks.
Belgrade was a Hungarian possession, but it remained to all intents a Serbian city. And the Serbs had, for once, decided to defy their Turkish overlords and were intent on defending the city. Indeed, they must have known that once Belgrade fell, there would be no Serbia left to resist the Turks at all.
The local Serbian population around the city had added to the number of defenders within it and the land all around had been well prepared by them for the siege. Defences had been dug, erected, and extended and fields of fire cleared for the cannons and gunners on the walls and towers. Indeed, Hunyadi had been lavishing vast sums on enhancing the defences at least since I had arrived in the region more than ten years earlier. But recently there had been a final surge in effort and the locals had been building the walls higher and stronger for months. Anything edible had been removed from the enemy’s line of march, all the water sources poisoned, and bridges destroyed. It would not stop the Turks but it would not help them, either.
