The Dracula Chronicles: Bound By Blood - Volume 2 Read online

  This made her situation a precarious one. It did not help her case that she refused to convert to the religion of her sister. She wished to remain a Protestant like her mother, Anne Boleyn. It was the only faith she could live by. If it meant her death then she accepted that.

  She spent time locked in the Tower of London. Every night she feared an assassin would take her life. It did not happen. After her release she remained under house arrest at Hatfield House. Mary stationed a garrison of a hundred men there. They were there as much to protect her sister, as they were her jailors.

  The next in line to the throne after Elizabeth was Mary, Queen of Scots. She had spent her entire life in France. In April 1558 at fifteen years of age she married the heir to the French throne, the dauphin Francois. France and Spain remained sworn enemies. Phillip feared that with the French heir now married to the Queen of Scotland, he might have his eyes on the English throne. For this reason he implored his wife to install Elizabeth as her official successor.

  This situation gave rise to much gossip in the royal houses of Europe. It was only a matter of time before Dracula caught wind of it. Word also spread of Mary’s deteriorating health. It prompted his return to England late in 1558. For him to secure the fruits of his past efforts, Elizabeth had to succeed Mary on the throne.

  The vampires stopped in France on their way. It proved a good move. They learned of a plot to put the wife of the French heir on the throne of England.

  The real power in France rested with Francois, the Duke of Guise. He and his brother, Charles, were uncles of the Scottish queen. They, more than anyone, wanted to see her succeed her cousin. Francois de Guise knew of Mary’s failing health. It made the question of succession an immediate one. He believed that with Elizabeth out of the way, the English would crown his niece as their queen.

  To that end he had despatched a small army of two hundred men. He found the best soldiers money could buy and armed them well. Their task was to overpower the garrison at Hatfield House. Then they would kill the young princess.

  The vampires set off at once for England. They elected not to feed along the way. Instead they headed straight for Hatfield to the north of London. Dracula only hoped he was not too late.

  On the way there he weighed up the situation. He realised the small army could move undetected through the sparse countryside. Spies would have already mapped out a route. This would allow the French a safe trek away from the attentions of the English army.

  Before leaving France he learned that the small army was not carrying any musketry or cannon. The use of such weapons would create too much noise. It meant they could also move much faster as a unit. They carried only crossbows and swords for close combat. They also drew ballistae for the attack on the House.

  They caught sight of the French force about ten miles to the south of Hatfield. Between them and their destination lay hundreds of acres of heavy woods. From the air the vampires saw this was the route they were taking. It meant they could get close without anyone seeing them. But it also gave Dracula the idea of an ambush.

  He led the vampires on to the north. His first idea was to abduct the princess. He then thought it better to make himself known to those guarding her. Varkal licked his lips. The prospect of doing battle excited him.

  Dracula smiled when he saw the men guarding the House. They trained their crossbows on he and the others. It pleased him that they were astute at their job.

  The truth was that Queen Mary was close to death. There were fears that Catholic sympathisers might try to kill her sister and heir. The prospect of a Protestant assuming the throne did not appeal to all. For that reason the marshal of the garrison received word to strengthen the night watch.

  “Who goes there?” one of the guards shouted.

  Dracula looked him straight in the eye. “A friend,” he replied.

  His stare transfixed the guard, who lowered the crossbow.

  “I need to speak with the Marshal.”

  “I am he,” a strong voice said.

  Dracula turned to see a powerful and distinguished man emerge from the shadows. He stood taller and wider than most men Dracula had known.

  “Good evening, Marshal,” Dracula greeted him.

  The marshal ignored him and turned to his guards. He singled out the one who had lowered his crossbow. “Raise your weapon, sentry,” he ordered. “If I cannot trust you to do your job then you might be better served in the stocks.”

  “I am sorry, Sir Henry,” the man said sheepishly.

  “Sir Henry?” Dracula enquired.

  “Yes, Bedingfield,” he answered, looking Dracula up and down. “You were looking for me. You could at least have the common decency to know my name.”

  Dracula bowed his head slightly. “I apologise humbly, Sir Henry. We have come here directly from France.”

  “And your business?”

  “The well being of the Princess.”

  “And what concern is that of yours? I am the one charged with her care.”

  “Yes indeed. I am here because she is in grave danger.”

  “Really?” Bedingfield said, his tone mocking him a little. He looked around and then up in the air. “To where should I seek this threat?”

  His attitude irritated Varkal. “Father, why must you tolerate such fools?”

  This offended the marshal, but it did not deter Varkal. He was glad of the effect his words had on the man. “We can protect the Princess adequately by ourselves if need be.”

  Dracula became aware of another dozen crossbows aimed at he and the others. He looked up to see them posted in various positions. Still, he kept his calm. This situation was not new to him. “Forgive my son, Sir Henry. He is known to be a little impetuous at times.”

  Bedingfield stared hard at Varkal. “Yes. I can see that.” He then turned to Dracula. “Why do you think the Princess is in danger? I am one hundred strong here. My men are picked soldiers.”

  “I am glad of that. They will need to be. The Queen is on her deathbed.”

  “How would you know that having just come from France?”

  “The Duke of Guise has better information than you do. I can assure you of that.”

  “That is not a name spoken too often in these parts. So what are his intentions?”

  “He plans to kill Princess Elizabeth.”

  “Are you mad?”

  “I can assure you I am not.”

  “You are full of assurances, sir. But you cannot offer me anything that I need. Where is your proof?”

  “I imagine a man like you would know why this is more than possible.”

  “I do not concern myself with politics, sir. I care only for the safety of the Princess. That is my job. And I do it well.”

  “Then you need to concern yourself with it for the now. Why would de Guise want to kill the Princess? Give it some thought.”

  “It is late. I do not have time for this.”

  Dracula did not move away as he had hoped. Instead he stood his ground until the marshal gave him an answer.

  “I do not know. Why would he?”

  Dracula sighed. “I do oft wonder how men like you acquire such a status.”

  The marshal did not appreciate the comment. It was as much as he could do to contain his temper. But he was better than that. Anyone could see he had the air of an accomplished soldier. Even they.

  Varkal could not resist the chance to pass comment and further annoy him. “Most likely from business conducted in the bedroom.”

  Anya also rubbed salt in the wounds. “I cannot imagine the gentleman conducting much business there,” she said, almost in a sneer.

  Bedingfield still kept his cool despite their best efforts to upset him. But Dracula did not appreciate their comments either. He wanted the marshal on his side, not against him. “Unless either of you two has anything constructive to say,” he advised, “then do not speak again.”

  The marshal had heard enough anyway. “You can leave this minute,” he said
firmly. “Or my men will cut you down.”

  Varkal called after him when he turned away. His grin had fast become a scowl. “Your crossbows are no good against us.”

  Dracula had one last idea to sway him. “If the Princess dies,” he said. “Then the niece of de Guise would assume the throne of England.”

  Bedingfield stopped and turned. For the first time Dracula truly had his interest. “You mean young Mary? The Queen of Scots?”

  “Yes. The Suffolks have been passed over. That makes her the next in line. The French are well aware of this.”

  “So you believe there is a plot at hand to kill the Princess?”

  “I know there is.”

  “If that is so then what can you tell me of it?”

  “There is a French army of about two hundred men on its way here.”

  For the first time he looked worried. “You are sure of this?”

  “Yes I am sure. I have seen them with mine own eyes. They are less than ten miles to the south even as we speak.”

  “That is impossible. I would know of it.”

  “They are coming,” Mihnea said. “You can be sure of that.”

  The marshal looked to one of his officers nearby. The man held up his hands and shrugged. “Our patrols have seen nothing of the like.”

  “The French are in full body armour. And armed with crossbows and swords.”

  “That would not be enough to win through here. We can defend the House even though we are half their number.”

  “They have catapults and other ballistae. Unless you act fast you will all die. You cannot hold them off for long. But worse still, the Princess will suffer the same fate. Then France will control the English throne.”

  “How did you come by this information?”

  “Time is of the essence, Sir Henry. While we stand here talking it only puts the Princess in even more danger.”

  “How do I know you are not involved in this plot? You could have been sent here to distract me.”

  “If that was our intention,” Varkal said. “It would be all over for you already.”

  Bedingfield glared at Varkal once more. He rested his fingers on the hilt of his sword. “I have to consider it. Lest I would not be doing my job.”

  “Go ahead, Sir Henry,” Varkal smiled. “I will remove your head before you can even unsheathe your sword.”

  “Why do I have to endure such insolence?” Bedingfield asked Dracula. “You expect me to cooperate with you. Yet you continue to insult me.”

  “We have come here to help you,” Dracula advised. “Our bloodline is far nobler than yours. I imagine my son looks upon you as the insolent one.”

  “What is your bloodline?”

  “Draculesti,” Mihnea hissed.

  “The name means nothing to me.”

  “Then it ought to,” Mihnea growled, stepping forward. He looked up at one of the crossbowmen as if to issue a warning. “Were it not for us the Ottomans would have overrun this country decades ago.”

  “And such important men are here in quiet Hatfield?”

  The insulting exchanges saw tempers begin to fray. It annoyed Dracula that things had come to this. He had run out of ideas to try and convince the marshal of the truth. The Englishman really did not care.

  “I have tired of this charade,” he said. “Yes the Queen is very ill. That much I do know. But for that reason I can expect every manner of fraudster to call at my door.” He looked to the women. “Ladies,” he bowed, before turning away.

  He began to walk back to the House. Varkal appeared before him and blocked his path. None of his men saw him move. His anger turned to bewilderment. How can this man be in front of me?

  Varkal drew his sword and put it to his throat. It prompted several of the guards to train their crossbows on him directly. A few of them shouted a warning to stand down. Varkal ignored them.

  Dracula walked up to the two of them. “If we have to,” he said. “We will take care of her ourselves. If that means we have to kill this entire garrison, then we will do so. Let there be no confusion over that issue.”

  “Elizabeth is going to be queen,” Varkal said. “Do not stand in the way of this. If you do then you will die.”

  “I am protecting her!”

  “You may think you are. But in truth you are paving the way for her demise.”

  Bedingfield was quick to defend himself, despite his situation. “You did not answer me. When I asked you how you knew of this army that is on its way here you said nothing. How can I trust you?”

  “Do you really want to know?”

  “Yes. Damn you, man. I am not in a position to accept the word of a stranger. Not where the safety of the Princess is concerned.”

  “Very well. I will tell you. We flew over them on our way here.”

  His words did not impress the marshal. Bedingfield forgot Varkal for a moment and turned to face him. The sword remained pressed against his neck. It marked the skin, but did not draw blood. “What kind of a fool do you take me for?”

  “If you do not believe me then I will have to show you.”

  Dracula lunged at him. Despite being the smaller man he lifted him up in his arms and rose from the ground. Bedingfield cried out as the stranger lifted him almost a hundred feet into the air. Some of his men fired at Dracula. But he moved so fast that each bolt missed its mark.

  One hundred feet became two hundred. The marshal continued to cry out. He clung onto Dracula for dear life. It made Dracula angry and left him with no choice but to threaten him. “Be silent, man. If you do not I will drop you to the ground.”

  Although Dracula had a firm grip on him it did little to ease his fears. But the warning had the desired effect. He fell silent. Dracula feared that if he had not quietened down he would have alerted the oncoming army.

  Bedingfield was truly scared for his life at first. But when he calmed down he began to enjoy the experience. Dracula possessed amazing strength. He knew as long as he kept still he would be safe enough. Few could ever hope to know the sensation of flying. Whatever this man was, he did not show any desire to harm him. Therefore, he relaxed and took in the amazing views below.

  Dracula guided him over the forest to the south. He wanted the marshal to see the army. “Put your arm around my neck,” he said. “It will give you a better view.”

  He did as instructed. When Dracula was sure he was safe he pointed in the distance. “See. Look over there.”

  The marshal looked across. The moonlight allowed him a clear sight of the invading force. It moved at a healthy pace, despite their heavy armour. This indicated that they were fresh and eager to engage in battle.

  “Is that enough for you to believe me?”

  “Yes,” he gasped. “I believe you.”

  Dracula turned and flew back towards Hatfield House. About a mile before it he eyed the woods below. These stood on the edge of the forest. When they were directly overhead he spotted a clearing and touched down. He set his companion down safely and took a look around.

  Bedingfield still found it hard to take it all in. “Who or what are you?”

  “I am not someone you would like for an enemy,” Dracula replied. “But I am a royal, of the Draculesti family. You would do well to remember that. That is all you need know about me. The welfare of the Princess is my only concern.”

  “Yes, quite,” the marshal agreed. “What is your plan? I assume you have one.”

  “Of course,” Dracula grinned. “My sons and I faced a situation very similar to this years ago. With a hundred men we defeated six times that number.”

  Bedingfield showed that he was impressed. “Well I hope you can do the same tonight. God knows we are going to need it.”

  Dracula glanced at him, but did not answer. He examined the road on which they stood and the banks to each side.

  “Tell me what you are thinking.”

  “Very well,” Dracula said, pointing to the darkness. “The invading force will come along this road. In this
very spot is where we should attack them.”

  “It looks as good a place as any.”

  “Along here they are in full view.”

  Bedingfield looked up at the moon through the trees. “Yes. You are right.”

  “It will make them easy targets. Because they are bunched together and closed in, their heavy armour will work against them.”

  “Yes I agree.”

  “We can deploy your men on both sides of the road on the high banks.”

  “Yes. They will have the cover of the trees. And the higher elevation.”

  Dracula nodded. “With their crossbows they will destroy this force with ease.”

  Bedingfield agreed. It was a good plan and likely to work.

  “We have to take into account that these are seasoned fighting men,” Dracula said. “The crossbow fire will not account for them all. They will put up a fight.”

  “Of course.”

  “I saw only their officers on horseback. There were four in all. I need you to provide horses for my two sons and myself. With a half a dozen of your best men we can attack them at the rear.”

  “That is not a problem.”

  “The moonlight should enable your men to distinguish between us and the French. I foresee a swift end to the encounter.”

  “Very well. Let us do it.”

  They took to the air for a second time. Dracula touched down at the same spot outside the House. He was relieved to see the others still there.

  “Lower your weapons!” the marshal shouted to his men before any of them took it upon themselves to fire at one of his visitors. He thanked God they had not attacked them in his absence. “These people are our friends.”

  Bedingfield was one of the two men most responsible for putting Mary Tudor on the throne. He did it in the midst of rebellion. Guildford Dudley had led the coup that saw Lady Jane Grey have her nine-day reign. Dracula knew he was a staunch Catholic. In light of that he thought it might suit the marshal if the French had their way. Mary, Queen of Scots, was also a Catholic. But he soon dismissed the idea. Anyone could see Bedingfield was a knight and a man of honour.