The Dracula Chronicles: Bound By Blood - Volume 2 Page 35

  Mihnea did not share the same view. He had lived and died a loyal Catholic. The idea of the Turks seizing Rome was one he could not bear.

  Giovanni Andrea Doria led the southern flank of the Christian fleet. He saw that the galleys of Uluj Ali extended further than his own. It worried him that the Turks might outflank him there. He moved his part of the fleet further south to avoid this. This allowed the wily Uluj Ali to turn back and get in around him. Uluj Ali then attacked the southern part of the Centre Division.

  Things looked just as bleak on the other side of the battle for the Christian fleet. Chulouk Bey got his galleys in between the shore and its North Division. He hit them hard in the early exchanges. However, the Venetians rallied and held the line against them.

  In the centre the battle raged at its fiercest. Both sides took heavy losses. From where the vampires watched it looked as though the Turks were gaining the upper hand. Dracula did not display any emotion. He stood and observed quietly, though he sensed Mihnea growing more agitated. But he did not even look at his son. Ilona remained at his side. She gave Mihnea a warning glance to keep his calm.

  He could keep it in no longer. “We have to do something!”

  His father did not answer. Mihnea looked to Varkal. “Do you not care either?”

  “I am with father on this. What he chooses is the course I will follow.”

  Mihnea gritted his teeth. “I should know there is no sense to be got from you.”

  “You really should have been born a woman,” Varkal sneered. “You know how to bitch and moan like one.”

  They glared at each for a time. Varkal then looked away again. His interest lay with the battle below. He did not care who won. In his mortal life he never faced the Turks. Anya peered over his shoulder at Mihnea. She saw his anger boiling.

  “I do not know how we share the same father,” Mihnea stabbed. “You have never had the courage of a Draculesti.”

  Varkal looked at him again. His face soured at the jibe.

  “It is as well you were born a bastard.”

  Dracula looked at them both. “This is not the time,” he said. “Let it go.”

  His sons had other ideas. They had never liked each other. So many times in the past this mutual dislike had threatened to boil over. Mihnea spat on the ground. Varkal saw it as the final insult.

  He flew at his brother. Mihnea saw it coming and struck out with an elbow. The blow caught Varkal in the forehead. He spun around and hit the ground. Mihnea dived on him. He landed a second blow before Varkal threw him clear.

  They came at each other again. This time they met in mid air. They wrestled each other about six feet above the ground. Neither of them could find an advantage. Dracula tired of it fast. He flew at their centre, his fists catching them both in the head. In a moment the two of them had hit the ground.

  He stood between and over them. “That is the end of it,” he warned.

  Ilona jumped to his side. She sensed it was not over. If either of his sons dissented she wanted to be there. Mihnea rose first and saw her poised to act. Blood trickled from his lip. He wiped it away with the back of his hand. The blood inside his mouth he spat onto the ground.

  “Let it be,” she said, looking straight at him.

  “Have no fear,” he said, turning away. “I have no interest in anything here.”

  Dracula eyed him as he began to walk off. “What does that mean?”

  Mihnea stopped although he did not look around. “I cannot stomach any more of this. I follow you and give my loyalty. Yet you care nothing for me or how I feel.”

  Dracula rose up and touched down just in front of him. “You know that is not true. You are my son.” He placed a hand on Mihnea’s cheek to try and emphasise his point. “You are my son.”

  Varkal got up finally. He did not like the way his father was looking at Mihnea. Pangs of jealousy ate at him inside. Mihnea was right. He was a bastard and it showed. Anya reached out to him. When he stepped back she took his arm.

  “Then why do you ignore my feelings?” Mihnea asked him.

  “I do not.”

  “Even in this moment you are. Rome cannot fall to these heathens.”

  “If it is meant to be, then so it must be.”

  “That is not true,” Mihnea argued. “We have influenced many events.”

  “Not where the future of Rome is concerned. It is my task to bring Rome down.”

  “Perhaps,” Mihnea said. “And I accept that, as much as it ails me. But not in this way. Not to the Turks.”

  “I cannot get involved. Do you really think I want to see the Turks win here?”

  “But I can. If Rome falls, so will the rest in time. Even the land we call home.”

  “I know,” Dracula sighed.

  “I will not allow that,” Mihnea said. “If I do then our lives will have been in vain. And the lives of our ancestors.”

  “It will incur Lucifer’s wrath to aid the Holy League. You do not want that.”

  “Our goals will not change. But they must not come about in this way.”

  Dracula sighed again. He looked to Ilona for an opinion. She did not have one. “It is your choice,” she said. “Where you go I will follow.”

  Mihnea felt a flicker of hope. He knew his father had it in mind now to act.

  “What about you?” Dracula asked Varkal.

  His other son wanted no part of it. “I am not taking sides here,” he said. “If you go down there then let it be on my brother’s head.”

  “We do not need him,” Mihnea said. “He is of no use to anyone.”

  “When you return, brother,” Varkal glared. “I will be here. Then we can settle.”

  In truth Dracula had wanted to take an active part in the battle. He just feared what might happen as a result. The three of them flew down to the water’s edge. Varkal and Anya turned away. They needed some blood.

  He decided on what they needed to do. “The Holy League has reserves it is not using,” he said to Mihnea. “Get them into the battle. They have to get involved.”

  Mihnea nodded and took to the air. He had no time to hang around.

  “What will you do?” Ilona asked her husband.

  “I am going to the ship of the Turkish commander.”

  “And what do you want me to do?”

  “Try and inspire the Spanish any way you can. They have to hold the centre if they are going to win.”

  “But their prayers are to the Virgin Mary.”

  “Then if that is what it takes to inspire them, be Her.”

  Mihnea flew behind the Christian lines. He set down on the very top of one of the Spanish galleys. The sound of a thousand voices reached his ears. He filtered through them to seek out the one in authority. That man he realised he could find three ships further over.

  He entered the cabin of Juan de Cordona. Cordona was from Catalan and did not see himself as Spanish. However, he was still a Catholic. For that reason he saw the need to join the side of King Philip.

  Mihnea found him studying a chart of the Gulf. He looked up when Mihnea walked in. “Who are you?”

  “There is no time to explain.”

  Cordona stood up. “You cannot walk into my cabin.”

  Mihnea had to bite his lip. “I have risked much to even be here. Sit down and listen to me.”

  His voice took on a real icy tone. With just one look into his eyes Cordona knew it best to comply. “I am listening.”

  “You need to join the battle at once.”

  “I do not even know you. Yet you think I will listen to your advice?”

  “It is not advice. It is a command.”

  “I do not take orders from men I do not know.”

  “I say it only out of urgency. The battle will soon be lost.”

  “I have not received any word of the like. So why would I believe you and risk my men?”

  “Because if you do not act, then the Turks will win.”

  “Can you support this with evidence?” />
  “Yes,” Mihnea said. “The southern flank is cut off. Uluj Ali has outmanoeuvred Doria and attacked the centre. Chulouk Bey is enjoying success against the northern side. Unless you go in and support the centre then all will soon be lost.”

  Cordona looked confused. “Then why has no one called for me?”

  “It has not been possible. Go to the crow’s nest. You can see for yourself.”

  “I am the Captain of this ship. I shall not be doing any such thing.”

  “Well someone has to. I see nobody up there.”

  “What do you mean? There is always a man up there.”

  “Perhaps you should take a look. Or I can even show you.”

  Cordona got up and brushed past him. When he stepped out on deck Mihnea grabbed him around both arms. He cried out when the vampire hoisted him up high above his ship. His whole body tensed with fear.

  “Stop whining and look,” Mihnea said, his tone cold, but deadly firm. “Both ways. Do I not speak the truth?”

  Cordona could see it for himself. “Yes,” he wailed. “I see it!”

  “Good. Then you had best act on it. You do not want me to come back. Attack the galleys of Uluj Ali. It is your only chance.”

  He set Cordona down again. In the blink of an eye he was gone. Although still shaken, the captain gave the order for the fleet he led to attack. Just as Mihnea had advised he moved into the centre. His ships drove Uluj Ali back. In the end the Turk retreated from the centre and the south flank. He lost all but one of the ships he had captured.

  Ali Pasha oversaw events from his flagship, the Sultana. As the battle raged in the centre he caught sight of his opposite’s vessel, La Real. He ordered his sailors to hone in on the ship. In his mind the best way to end this was to sink Don John and his crew.

  The two of them came together. Many galleys on both sides joined in. The most ferocious episode of the battle ensued. The Spanish tried to board the Sultana. Ali Pasha’s janissaries drove them back amid a fierce struggle. They came again. For the second time the Turks repelled them.

  The Spanish took serious losses. But they did not waver. Don John sent his men to board the Sultana a third time. At the same time Dracula set down on the vessel. Amid the fighting nobody noticed him. He disarmed a janissary and seized his pistol.

  His eye fell on Ali Pasha. The Turkish commander feared his men might not hold off the third wave. Although his janissaries crowded around him he turned for the safety of his cabin. Dracula raised the pistol and fired. The ball struck Ali Pasha on the right side of his forehead. He went down. Blood gushed from the wound and onto the deck.

  Although he was still alive, his men panicked. They despaired without him to lead them. The Spanish cut a path through. In a very short time after that they seized control of the ship. Don John had given orders for his men to take Ali Pasha alive. One of them saw the Turk lying there on the deck. Excited, the soldier ran over and cut off his head. Dracula sloped off again. He knew it was only a matter of time now before the battle ended.

  Ilona went into the town. She found a shawl, which she draped around her head. From there she sought out Don John’s ship. She found it just as his men launched the third attack on the Sultana.

  One of the Spaniards looked up and saw her there. She hung in the air between the rigging of the sails, about twenty feet up. “Look!” he cried. “The Virgin Mary has come to deliver us!”

  His comrades all looked up. They saw her too. Their cries multiplied. These echoed from ship to ship until large numbers on the Christian side bore witness to the miracle above La Real.

  The Spanish swarmed all over the Sultana. It fell with ease on this occasion. One of the men emerged with the head of Ali Pasha on a pike. He walked onto the Spanish flagship and climbed high to show it to one and all.

  The sight of it crushed Turkish morale. As much as they needed to secure victory here, their courage deserted them. A few tried to bring him down with arrows but failed. Uluj Ali fled the battle and escaped with only thirty vessels. Ilona remained there until the battle ended. When she saw the men on the decks of the ships drop to their knees to worship her she left.

  The next night the vampires gathered high on the fortress at Lepanto. They watched the Christians towing away the vessels they had captured. Varkal and Mihnea had put their feud to one side for now. Dracula stamped his authority and forbade any further disunity.

  “There is nothing more to see here,” he said, after a time. “We should go.”

  Ilona smiled at his decision. She took his hand. “Good. Let us fly together.”

  The five of them took to the air. They headed north towards a forest where they knew they could find shelter. Dracula wanted to use the quiet retreat to assess the future. With his decision to help deny the Turks victory he needed a contingency plan.

  When they reached the forest he scanned the trees below. He and Ilona had not passed this way in a long time. The forest had changed. He needed a little time to remember the location of the cave where they had once spent a couple of days.

  Suddenly Ilona emitted a horrible groan. Dracula looked on in shock as an invisible force ripped her away from him. She hurtled downwards to the forest below. In the next moment he felt a crushing blow to his stomach. He lost the power of flight and fell with her. Mihnea went next and then Varkal and Anya. They hit the ground hard. Each of them looked up at the night sky in a daze.

  Dracula managed to get up onto one elbow. The others remained on their backs. He could see they were all in too much pain to move. Fear gripped his heart. What could have done this to them?

  Thousands of birds raced up from the trees. The cacophony of their wings made him jump for a moment. From within the forest he heard other sounds. The cries of various animals. Something had spooked them. They were fleeing the forest.

  “Get up,” he said to the others, sensing grave danger. “We must go.”

  Ilona groaned in pain. Her head throbbed so much she could barely see. Dracula crawled over to her. “Come, Ilona,” he said. “We cannot stay here.”

  The urgency in his voice scared her. It helped her come round. “What is it? What is happening here?”

  Dracula did not answer her. His senses had returned. Indeed they felt sharper now than they had in a long time. He caught the rapid movement of darting shadows in the trees. The five of them were not alone. Close by he detected the presence of others far more sinister than he. The hairs stood up on the back of his neck. He could smell real evil in the air.

  Mihnea caught its scent too. And Ilona. They both sat up to listen to the forest. Mihnea exchanged glances with his father. It had suddenly turned deathly silent. They heard Anya complain that it was cold. It was, and growing ever colder.

  “Something is here,” Mihnea whispered.

  Dracula put a finger to his lips. Ilona knew it too. Her skin turned to ice when she realised what it was. “Lucifer.”

  At the very mention of his name the whole forest lit up. An almighty fire rose from nowhere and engulfed them on all sides of the small clearing. Its heat made each one of them cry out. Indeed they all had to raise their arms to shield their faces. Nine monstrous figures emerged from the flames.

  Behind them they saw Indra, Taurvi and Zairitsha. To the right Aeshma and Naonhaithya loomed tall. Ahriman stood between them. He extended his huge black wings to block any hope of escape. They knew there was none anyway.

  Ilona gasped in horror when she looked in the other direction. Moloch dominated the entire area. His monstrous crocodile body jostled about. He must have been more than fifty times her size. His mighty legs ripped up the ground around him. Right in front of them Sauru and Adramelech stood together. They parted only when Lucifer stepped forth.

  The vampires felt terror like they had never known. Varkal and Anya crawled backwards towards the others. The five then huddled together. Beneath them the ground grew ever hotter. The air turned stale and thick with sulphur. Hot ash fell like snow all around them. They choked, as th
ey breathed it in. The fires that raged all around glazed and stung their eyes.

  The ten Archdemons of the covenant of the Sephiroth had arrived. These were the ten most powerful that God had cast out. Their sole aim was to defeat Michael and the other Archangels. They hoped then to alter the balance of power in Heaven.

  Their capacity for evil knew no bounds. Even from where they stood Dracula could feel their hatred for him. It reeked from their pores and hung in the air like the foulest of odours. In times past the nine others had argued with Lucifer over his decision to use Dracula. Now he had acted purposely against the interests of the Sephiroth. It gave them the chance they had sought for so long. They hoped now their Dark Lord would permit them to exact a vicious retribution.

  Lucifer stood over them. He held his huge triton in his right hand. The muscles on his body glistened against the flames. His eyes showed real anger and malice.

  Anya shook uncontrollably. Lucifer reached down and grabbed her by the throat. He lifted her up into the air and glared at her.

  “Give her to me!” Moloch growled.

  Varkal rose up in her defence. Lucifer struck him in the head with the butt of the triton. It knocked him out cold. Anya choked from the force he applied in his grip.

  “Give her to me!” Moloch urged. “Let me show her the real wonders of Hell.”

  Lucifer threw her back down. Moloch growled from deep in his throat. His brother then eyed Mihnea. It was he who had pushed for the vampires to intervene in the battle.

  Dracula tried to think of a way out of this. It was a mistake to look for mercy. The Sephiroth had no concept of that. They sought only to hurt and destroy. He knew of only one thing that could sway them. And that was the use of logic.

  Lucifer turned the triton around so that he aimed the three prongs at Mihnea. Dracula stood up before he threw it at his son. “Father,” he said. “The decision was mine to make. The responsibility for that lies with me.”

  Lucifer struck him hard with the back of his fist. He hit the ground so hard that it shook. His head ached worse than at any time in his existence. But he knew there was worse to come.