The Dracula Chronicles: For Whom The Bell Tolls Read online

  “Then it is he. Bring him to me.”

  Dracul stopped when his force met with Hunyadi’s army just to the north of the city. He issued his orders and rode on with Mircea, Rodrigul and Florescu.

  The first of the men to leave the tent rode up to the four riders. He reined his mount and greeted them with a bow of his head.

  “This is it?” Dracul asked him. “This is the army to defeat our enemy?”

  “Follow me, my Lord, if you will.”

  The four of them followed the man into the huge tent. They looked around to see a host of commanders, and bowed on seeing the Polish king. Ladislas looked immaculate in his white armour and other garments that hinted at his status.

  Dracul then walked up to Hunyadi. “You summoned me?” he said bluntly. His voice showed no hint of kinship.

  “Yes, you do have a commitment to this crusade. Whether you want it or not is of no importance.”

  Dracul did not like the sarcasm in the other man’s tone. With so many in the tent, he felt Hunyadi might use it as an opportunity to belittle him. There were many men of repute standing around.

  His eye fell first on the noble warrior, Mihály Szilágy. Despite his association with Hunyadi, the two had not lost their friendship of many years. To his left stood Jan Dominek of Varadin and Franco Talotsi of Croatia. Dracul also recognised Erlau and Raphael. They stood among other officers from the German states and Russia, whom he did not know. The only notable absentee was George Branković.

  He turned his focus back to Hunyadi and spoke with equal sarcasm. “You hint that I may not have as much courage as you, oh great White Knight. We could go outside and settle it. Then we can see who really is the better man.”

  His words made Hunyadi seethe inside. Dracul had a reputation with the sword even better than his own. But he had laid down the challenge. If Hunyadi backed out from it, then he would look a coward in front of all these great men. There was no way he could back down.

  He held his breath to try and mask the fear he felt inside. But he did not dislike the sensation. Apart from the feeling it gave him to lead his troops into battle, there was little in his life to excite him. The situation that faced him now gave him a buzz that he enjoyed. He stared at Dracul and straightened up to the challenge. Perhaps some good could come of it, for to the death it would be.

  The young king decided it a good time to intervene. He could ill afford to lose either man and certainly not over some stupid spat. “Come, come, gentlemen,” he said, in an attempt to diffuse the situation. “We all stand beneath the same banner here. What chance do we have against the Turks if we should quarrel with each other?”

  “Forgive me, Highness,” Dracul said. “I neither like his tone, nor his implication.”

  “This dispute between you has to stop. I want it resolved here before me.”

  “Well, Highness, the axe he has to grind with me seems too much for him to bear. The only way I can see to end it is for us to fight a duel.”

  Hunyadi braced himself for a fight. He knew if any man in the tent could better him with a sword, it would be Dracul. If a fight were to occur, he knew his chances would improve significantly were he to launch the first strike while still inside the tent.

  “I have no axe to grind with you,” he answered Dracul. “I am only disappointed that you did not ride with me in the campaign last year.”

  “I am glad you give mention to that.”

  “Well it needs to be said.”

  “I will address your comment,” Dracul spat, real fire in his eyes. “Would you have me condemn my sons to death? Would seeing them impaled or burned appease you?”

  “No one wants that, my Lord,” Szilágy said.

  “Well, that is what would have happened, had I taken up arms with you.”

  “You are bound by oath,” Hunyadi cut in.

  “To hell with your oath! My only concern is for my boys.”

  “An oath is an oath.”

  “You have never struck me as a man who is very good at keeping his word, Hunyadi. Yet you expect me to do so, as long as it suits you.”

  “As long as it suits me?”

  “It is all to suit you, and your ambition. My sons remain in captivity so you can resume this damned crusade. Damn you!”

  “I go to war at the Pope’s behest.”

  “Then damn him too!”

  Cesarini stepped right up to Dracul. “You would be well served to keep that blasphemous tongue quiet.”

  Dracul pushed his face forward until their heads almost touched. “You forget I am not a papist. I do not answer to him or any other man in this room. So what shall you do?”

  “On the next occasion I shall have your tongue removed.”

  “Is that so?” Dracul challenged him, his face red with anger. He touched the hilt of his sword. “I would like to see you try, or any other man in this tent.”

  The king did not like Dracul’s comments any more than Cesarini. But he knew if he did not put an end to this now then it might escalate. That was the last thing his cause needed. “That is enough,” he said to one and all. “A man has a right to vent his anger. But I shall have no talk of violence against any man in this room.” He turned to Dracul. “My esteemed Lord, I feel for you and understand your plight. And I know you do not have to answer to my church. But you did swear an oath to the Emperor and that oath binds you still.”

  Dracul was only getting started. He nodded that he accepted the words of the king, but kept his focus on Hunyadi. “You never answered me.”

  “To what are you referring?”

  “Would seeing my sons impaled or burned appease you? Is that what you want?”

  The atmosphere in the tent grew thicker. The king’s best efforts to placate both men had failed. All eyes fell on Hunyadi. Whatever he said in reply to Dracul was likely to anger him further. His honour and his reputation meant everything to him. He did not want to fight with Dracul here, but it looked as though he might have to. His rival was not going to let this go.

  “You know your being in bed with the Turks rankles with me,” he said. “I do not care for the reason. It does with every man in this room.”

  “You have Transylvania and my country between yours and the interests of the Sultan. I do not have that same luxury.”

  Hunyadi did not care. “And your point in all this?”

  “Yes, I can go to war with the Turks. I can sacrifice the lives of my sons, my heirs. But why should I do that and risk them, for you? I would be loath to piss on you were you on fire.”

  His words caused a few of the men in the tent to stiffen. They understood his anger, but now he was taking it a step too far.

  “It is not for me. You have a duty to the Holy Roman Emperor and to the Order to which you belong. It is that which won you your throne to begin with.”

  “Do you really think so?” Dracul said, to show the oath meant nothing to him. Not next to his sons. “I could do all those things to support you. Yet I doubt you would ever come running to help me.”

  “You would be correct to assume that.”

  Dracul paced the ground in front of him. “So there really is an honest bone in you somewhere?”

  “Save the drama, Dracul. No one cares for it.”

  “The truth is, you want me in a position where my country would be invaded and overrun. You want this so you can have Wallachia as your own.”

  “What would I want with your country? It is a piss pot full of thieves and beggars. A land where the women are riddled with the pox.”

  “And you would know well of such things. For we all know the whore who bore you was one such a woman.”

  The insult lit a fuse inside Hunyadi at last. Enraged, he lunged forward and made a grab for the one he hated. Dracul was ready for it and pinned him down against the table.

  “I shall kill you, Dracul!” Hunyadi screamed, as he had his face pushed hard against the wood.

  “With a knife in the back perhaps. That is the only way you coul
d better me, great White Knight that you are.”

  Some of the others rushed forward to break up the scuffle. It took an effort to drag Dracul away. When they did, Hunyadi jumped up and lashed out. He missed with his blow as more aided in separating the two men. Szilágy stood in the middle and at last both men relaxed again.

  The level of the animosity between the two men stunned the king. He knew they had no love for each other, but had never expected this. It was time for him to act. He was in authority here; and he needed to show it before the feud jeopardised his own position within the group.

  He walked to the spot where Szilágy had stood in the centre of the tent. “That shall be the end of this!” he warned. “You are both noble commanders under my banner. My banner! Put your petty squabbles aside, lest I might give you both an evening in the stocks. You are both great men, and respected by all. I shall not permit any man here to say anything that is contrary to that!”

  The two men glared at each other still, until Dracul turned and walked out of the tent. He knew Hunyadi had thrown another insult his way when Ladislas shouted, “That is the end of it!”

  Mircea and Rodrigul stood close to Dracul while he took some air. He hated Hunyadi with a passion. This was the man he identified as his true enemy. He knew he would have to watch his back here, and in the future. But no one else had stood against him, even if they did not like some of what he had said. He took solace from that. It told him that even if Hunyadi tried to tarnish his name the men in the tent still had respect for him.

  “Would you please join us again, good Lord?”

  Dracul turned to see the young king standing there. “Of course, Highness. Forgive me. I needed a breath of air.”

  Ladislas waited at the entrance of the tent. He held out his hand for Dracul to shake. “Keep your spirits up, good friend.”

  “I am sorry, Highness. I did not mean you any disrespect.”

  “Then let us get back to the business at hand,” he said, a smile on his face.

  The atmosphere was still tense inside the tent. The king felt though that he at least had matters under control.

  Hunyadi stood over a map of the area around Varna. He had it spread out on the table that dominated the centre of the tent. Dracul looked down at it, careful to avoid his gaze.

  “What is the plan exactly, Highness?” he asked the young king.

  Ladislas felt a rush inside on hearing the question. “We are going to march along the river and liberate Varna. In doing this, we shall be able to choke the enemy positions along the Danube. And then drive them out.”

  It still ate at Dracul that the coalition had broken the treaty with Murad. Who knew what it could mean for his sons. “What of the treaty that was signed?”

  “What of it?” Hunyadi grumbled under his breath.

  “One of the conditions would see the release of my sons.”

  Dominek spoke up for the first time. “The treaty was signed more than nine months ago. Have they returned home yet? My son is still a hostage there. The snake that holds him shall never let him go.”

  Dracul knew then that he was not the only man at the table with a lot at stake. “Go and break the treaty,” he said. “Then you are unlikely to ever see him home once more.”

  Hunyadi took the lead again. “They only honour treaties when it suits them.”

  “And they are the only ones?” Dracul remarked, a snide edge in his tone.

  “Our King is right to renew the campaign against them.”

  Dracul glanced quickly at Ladislas. He had not known the resumption of hostilities was due to the young king.

  “Murad only agreed to the armistice because it suited him to.”

  “Yes, and he has recouped in the time since,” Szilágy said, his tone bitter. “We had him reeling before the Feast of our Lord.”

  “This is the right time for us to strike,” Hunyadi said. “When the bulk of their armies are far away in the East.”

  “And you do not think they shall return in their hordes?” Dracul pointed out.

  “They would not be able to,” Ladislas smiled.

  “How is that so, Highness?” Dracul asked him.

  “Because the Venetian fleet has joined our side.”

  “Not only that,” Hunyadi said, “but the Burgundians are sending a part of their fleet too.”

  Dracul laughed, unable to believe what he was hearing. “And you truly believe they can halt the progress of a mighty Ottoman fleet?”

  “Our fleet shall prevail,” Cesarini said with conviction.

  “I fear not, Cardinal. What if they fail? What happens then?”

  The men fell silent to consider it.

  “Then I should tell you. The Turks shall arrive with five times our number and crush us into the dust. What would happen then to the security of our nations? When we are all dead and unable to defend ourselves? You would be better served to leave sleeping dogs lie, and strike when we are stronger.”

  Hunyadi could not resist the chance to go on the attack again. “Such talk could be seen as treason.”

  “Treason? If I were a lowly peasant perhaps. You err in your choice of words. I am the head of my own country. It is time you left your arrogance at home with your wife, if only for a moment.”

  He glared at Dracul as the tension surfaced again between the two of them.

  “I would hate to be the poor wretch serving under you,” Dracul went on. “When you have such little regard for the lives of your men.”

  “We are bound by oaths to a greater power. Each one of us is a servant of God.”

  “It is as well for me then, that I can draw the line between being a servant of God and using His name as an excuse to go to war.”

  Dominek was quick to support Hunyadi this time. “Your opinions are not so appreciated in this room,” he said, his voice low and threatening.

  “I shall still voice them,” Dracul said. “Before I condemn Wallachian men to death for this cause.”

  “Speak then, Vladislav,” the king said. “I value your input, even if no one else does. It is one reason why I want you here.”

  Dracul nodded to him in respect. “I see perhaps twenty-five thousand men camped outside,” he said. “I have seen Murad take as many as that on a hunting trip. Do you seriously think he would take an attack on Varna lightly? I can tell you, he shall come with a hundred thousand men. And that would be the end of it.”

  Of the men in the room, Hunyadi had enjoyed the greatest success on the field of battle. He had gained his status from it and those around him revered him for it. It was his charge now to lead this crusade and he was determined to see it through. His ambition burned now stronger than ever. He knew he could well secure the throne in Hungary for one of his sons, in time. That was, if he drove Murad back beyond the Black Sea. He despised any opinion that did not fall in with his ambitions for greater glory. It blinkered him from all that Dracul had said. He had no regard for the argument, despite the chance that Dracul was right.

  His eyes narrowed when Dracul met his gaze once more. “It would seem that you are looking to duck another fight, Dracul. I cannot believe I ever allowed such a coward to sit on the throne in Wallachia.”

  Dracul raised a fist to strike him. The others stepped in and prevented him from doing so. “Hide behind your friends, Hunyadi. It is as much as you are good for.”

  “At least I shall lead them into battle, and not hide behind my wife’s skirt.”

  Dracul turned red with rage while the others restrained him. When Ladislas indicated to them with a nod, they let him go.

  “Highness,” Dracul said, turning to him. “I cannot remain here to be insulted like this. I came out of respect upon my summons. But it is clear to me that I have made a mistake in doing so. If I have to answer for my actions at a later date then I am prepared for that.”

  The king nodded that he could leave.

  “I am returning home. I shall leave you four thousand of my best cavalry to fight under my banner.
I wish you luck in your endeavours. Sadly, I feel you shall need much more than that.”

  “I thank you, Vlad Dracul,” the king said, acknowledging the gesture.

  “I shall carry our banner, my Lord,” Mircea said, as his father turned to leave.

  Dracul felt his heart sink when his son spoke up. He did not like the idea of his Mircea taking to the field in the coming conflict. From the moment he had spoken with the oarsman, he knew it to be doomed to failure. But with so many eyes on him, he could not refuse his son permission.

  He agreed with a nod. “If it pleases the King, then my son shall carry my banner.”

  Ladislas nodded that he accepted this.

  Hunyadi could not resist one last jibe. “At least there is one Draculesti man enough to take to the field.”

  “Fortunately for my sons, I value their safety more than I do your need for glory.”

  Dracul turned to leave once again, but stopped to address the men in the tent first. “I predict we should see an inquest sometime in the next year. It shall follow the impending disaster at Varna. Then, the idiot you have put your trust in shall have to answer for it. I have made my feelings known. It is he that chooses not to heed my advice. He does so because his ambition means more to him than your lives and the lives of your men. So the blame should also lie at his feet. It saddens me to know that time shall prove me right, and that many of you will not survive the coming conflict. But I shall be vindicated when I preside over his fall from grace and execution.”

  He left four thousand cavalry under the command of Mircea and his son’s second, Vintila Florescu. With the remaining three hundred he rode out of the camp at once and returned home.

  ANATOLIA. THE ROYAL PALACE OF SULTAN MURAD II AT ADRIANOPLE.

  LATE SEPTEMBER, 1444.

  It did not take long for word to reach Murad of the intended attack on Varna. The significance of it was not lost on him. He summoned his top generals to attend an urgent Council of War. It took only a week for them to arrive. Even then, Murad was crazy with rage.

  “Do you see what they are doing!” he screamed, the moment they entered his quarters at the palace.