The Circle, part 2.1 (finally!)
I apologise for the late arrival of this chapter. But on the bright side it is massive! (over 11,000 damn I'm good) I had to post it in two sections because of the hugeness of it.
The cover I posted with the last chapter is actually more fitting with this part, so scroll down if you have time :P
There is some very violent and disturbing content in this chapter. Those who do not wish or should not be exposed to this, please stop here. Those of you who are of strong constitution, please carry on (and review!)
Part 2
as we carried the weight
and died for the cause
is misery
made beautiful
right before our eyes
will mercy be revealed
or blind us where we stand
-Sarah McLachlan, “ Witness”
Wallachia, March 1462
Their journey had been long and cold and Gabriel expected that their welcome would not be any more pleasant. If the rumours travelling from Transylvania were anything to go by, their small group would have their work cut out for them. He looked on at Tristan’s hunched back and sent a silent prayer into the Heavens. The men had grown restless as they neared their destination; Wallachia and the village of Vaseria and its heir, who was rumoured to be in covenant with the Devil himself. Gabriel doubted that the devil would lower himself for a nobleman’s son, but the foul mood of the other men made him weary. They had all been trained by the Order to resist evil and sense its presence. There was evil festering in Vaseria, that was no question, but whether it was merely human corruption or a supernatural force was to be seen.
He felt it slightly before the trees began to shake. A horse violently pushed through the thicket, its nostrils flared. Its rider had clearly not expected a block on the road and the horse reared up, neighing in surprise. Their horses pushed into the woods, attempting to give space to their panicked fellow. The rider pulled on the animal’s reins, trying to force it through the melee of men and beasts. Then Gabriel heard the shouts, the rhythmic gallop through the forest. The hood of the rider fell back revealing a mass of black hair and refined features of a young woman. Before any of them had time to react she had pulled a crossbow from her saddle, squarely aiming at to where she had appeared from. Tristan moved to disarm her, but before he reached the woman’s side two riders rushed to the road. Swords drawn they charged towards them. Without hesitation the woman shot one of the riders, hitting him on the shoulder. The rider seemed to shake off the hit moving swiftly towards her, his sword raised next to his head.
Her horse reared again, most likely saving her life. Gabriel pulled at his own reigns, forcing his horse towards the riders, drawing his sword. From the corner of his eye he could see Beaumont advancing on the second rider, glint of fury in his eyes. The first rider charged on Gabriel, deftly ducking from the other man’s blow Gabriel sunk his sword into the man’s side, calling forth a gush of blood. The man’s horse slowed down as he slumped against his neck. Gabriel turned just in time to see Beaumont’s blade sliding through the second man’s neck, his head rolling onto the road. He could see the woman attempting to steer her horse from the melee, but Tristan and Adrian blocked her way. Gabriel turned his horse around, fully surrounding her.
He could see her back tensing, nostrils flaring slightly in the cold air. Gabriel reached out for her, but found himself facing a blackened dagger.
“My lady, I mean you no harm…”
“I am no one’s Lady.”
Her voice was soft, but he could feel the strength beneath the words. Slowly he pulled his hand back, motioning with his eyes the men to back away. Beaumont gave a disbelieving snort, but pulled his horse back. Her eyes moved from man to man, evaluating each in turn.
“You are not Dragulia’s men.”
She tilted her head towards the fallen men, indicating their affiliations. Gabriel shook his head.
“Why are you here?”
Her voice was full of suspicion, her posture still tense. Later on Gabriel did not know what made him gamble all of their lives, he would call it an instinct, but part of him just could not do anything but tell her the truth.
“We were sent here by the Knights of the Holy Order to investigate Valerious’ son, Vladislaus.”
She seemed to relax slightly, but her eyes remained closed off. He did not know why she chose to believe him, but thought maybe it was something to do with his willingness to trust her so suddenly.
“You better follow me then. I will take you to the village.”
She turned her horse around, moving with a steady trot into the woods. The band of men composed themselves after the disruption of the fight and all moved to follow her. Gabriel could feel the disbelieving gaze of Beaumont on his back, but chose to ignore his comrade’s anger. Adrian moved past both of them, deftly moving his horse next to the woman’s. She, however, gave Adrian very little time to compose himself.
“Why did you kill the men?”
Gabriel had to smile at her abruptness. Adrian eyed her strangely, but her forceful gaze forced him to answer.
“They seemed to be chasing you. We were only trying to protect you.”
“Because I am a woman, in need of a rescue.”
She finished for him and then she laughed, the sound was hollow and it made Gabriel’s spine prickle. She moved to another road which appeared again, out of nowhere between the thick trees. She moved onto a gallop, gracefully moving with the motions of her horse. Gabriel now had time to analyse her from a distance. She had seemed proud and wilful, but her clothing revealed her to be some kind of servant, maybe a chamber maid. Her boots were scuffed and the hem of her dress badly muddied and torn. Her thick coat seemed far too large for her. Gabriel urged his horse next to hers; she gave him a look, but did not say anything.
The road started widening and Gabriel began to hear the sound of people in the air. She slowed her horse down to a trot, turning towards Adrian.
“If you trust appearances so willingly, you will not last long here.”
Behind the bend an outcropping of houses came into view. Otherwise it appeared to be a normal midsized village, if it had not been the pungent wrongness in the air. Gabriel wrinkled his nose, even though it was more of a feeling than a real smell. Again the woman gave her a strange look, and then continued:
“In Vaseria nothing is as it seems.”
Even though she was talking to Adrian, Gabriel could feel that the words were directed more at him, than his fellow knight. Eyeing the group distrustfully, she gave them a scornful look, then egging her horse into a trot; she disappeared between two run-down houses.
The Village was dominated by a large manor house. Gabriel could feel the gazes of the people on his back even though it seemed that no one was looking at the newcomers. He could feel it now, mixed beneath the wrongness, sadness and despair in the air. Beaumont was the first to move, guiding their party towards the stony steps of the house.
x x x x x x x
Anna pushed her heels to the side of her horse, urging the animal into the small alleyways between the houses. The rounded up through the village ending in the back entrance of the Valerious Manor. Simza appeared out of the kitchen door, as if sensing her presence. Her face was transformed into a furious scowl.
“What the damn are you doing back, girl!”
The whispered scream reached Anna’s ears as she dismounted and she winced. Simza had a way of making anyone feel like they had committed the greatest sin. She rushed from the doorway, grabbing her elbow.
“Answer me!”
“I was followed.”
She spit out, fury rising in her now.
“There are knights from the Vatican here! They killed Dragulia’s men.”
Simza was shocked into silence, staring at her in fear.
“How could you trust them! They could have been anyone!”
Her voice was hoarse, her hands balled into fists. Anna suspected she would very much like to hit her now, but was containing her temper at such a public place.
“I just knew.”
She shoved the reins into the older woman’s hands and moved to leave.
“Anna!”
Impatiently she shook her head.
“I need to tell Marcell to clean out the bodies.”
She disappeared into the shadows on the side of the huge wall. Simza squeezed the leathery rains in her hands, willing her heart rate to slow down. New guests, she had to prepare for the new guests.
x x x x x x x
The furnace blew hot air in her face as Anna stepped into the smithy. Marcelle’s huge arms gleamed in the low light as he worked on the anvil. She walked onto the bench laid next to the wall and sank down. In the heat of the room she let herself unwind; the panic and the fear and exhaustion slowly working through her body. She felt her hands shaking inside the sleeves of her too big coat. She felt the blacksmith sit next to her, but felt too tired to open her eyes. Gently his clumsy hand petted her hair.
“It is alright, Anna. It was unfair of us to ask that of you.”
She shook her head, eyes still firmly shut.
“There was a band of knights on the road. Maybe four miles from the main gates. Dragulia’s men had almost caught me. They killed them. Cut one’s head clean off.”
Her speech was choppy, each sentence dragged from her as if by force. She let out a long breath and opened her eyes. The fire smouldered bright and hot in the heart of the furnace.
“They come from the Vatican. Trying to save Dragulia’s soul.”
To that Marcell gave a dry bark of laughter. He got up from the bench and began taking off his leather apron.
“I guess I need to be going then.”
Anna nodded; she needed to get back to the Manor before Simza killed herself with worry. She waved a half-hearted good-bye to the man and silently slipped out into the darkening evening.
x x x x x x x
The entrance hall was shadowy and a hunch-shouldered footman ushered them towards what Gabriel assumed was the dining hall. He could hear faint singing and the rowdy clank of goblets. The footman pushed the wooden doors wide open and announced their presence. At once a silence descended on the hall. Gabriel could see him, Dragulia, at the head of the giant table with a goblet in hand and a lazy indulgent smile gracing his face. He was not man of great stature, but something in his air made Gabriel wary. He had heard the tales of the Ottoman defeater, his heroics in defending the Holy Empire, as well as those of his unbearable cruelty. The smile faded now and a he greeted his new visitors with a polite half bow, but remained seated. He could feel Beaumont’s fury at this insult and stepped forward from the band of Knights.
“I bring a greeting from the Holy Father. He has seen your struggle and you valour in the war against the godless Turks. We are Knights of the Order and we come to you in aid in this dark time.”
Their eyes bore to each other, both men weighting the other. His eyes were cold and Gabriel could see the calculating intelligence, which so few men possessed, in Vladislaus Dragulia, Vlad the Impaler as the pheasants called him. Part of Gabriel made the conscious choice of letting the cruelty he had often dished out in the battle field come to the surface. He wanted the Wallachian prince to see an equal in him, to gain his confidence. Dragulia’s eyes were unreadable, but then he rose and greeted the Knight in a way befitting noblemen.
“I hail you Knights of the Order and gladly accept you noble offer. I demand that you remain here as my guests and enjoy the best of Wallachian hospitality.”
A band of servants gathered around and cleared space around the long table. Plates and goblets appeared out of nowhere and before Gabriel could even remark on the swiftness of the serving they were already enjoying the excellent game and wine on offer. Throughout the meal Gabriel kept silent vigil of Dragulia. After their arrival the Prince had spared not two words to the newest members of his court. As always he could see the circles of trust, as if someone had drawn them physically in the air. The men closest were the ones vying for favour, for position. The trustees were in the centre, father away, fat and content in their power. The fine game turned ashen in his mouth each time his gaze passed that of the prince. He could feel the evil in him, could not point it or draw it out, but it was clear that Dragulia was influenced by much more that just the power of the Almighty.
Gabriel understood the Church’s desperation in the fight against the Ottomans and against Mehmed the II, but now he feared they had gone too far. Dragulia was too close to the enemy. He had lived the early years of his life as a prisoner of truce in Mehmed’s court and absorbed the customs and, most of all, the battle strategies of the Turks. The Order did not like this closeness to be remarked upon. They only basked in the glory of Dragulia’s victories and blissfully ignored the rumours of his insanity.
The women entered silently and deftly from the side door, spreading around the rooms. Some of them moved to what Gabriel assumed to be men familiar to them and some lingered on the edges of the room. She entered last with her heavily embroidered dress and complicated head jewellery and outshone each other woman in the hall. Her steady steps lead her to the Prince, but he spared her no interest.
She lingered behind his chair, sometimes floating to the side into the Dragulia’s field of vision and then back again. Her stark black hair and white complexion made her shine out among the women. She was clearly of high nobility, and the boyar girls flocked in her shadow. There was a coldness to her which Gabriel had never seen in any woman; not even the woman in the forest who had a kind of thick rage about her. This one was like a corpse, sucked dry from all the life by the closeness of the prince. They left the hall together, with his hand in the small of her back, leading her into the hallway. He looked back at them from the doorway, and once more Gabriel could, only for a moment, feel his evaluating gaze, before it disappeared into the dark.
The footman once again appeared by the table and they were lead to another wing of the house. All of the rooms were situated very close to one another in the east tower. Gabriel was surprised that Dragulia did not attempt to break them apart for better tactical advantage, but then again this move signalled of his complete faith in his control over his dominion. Gabriel’s room was large, showing the prosperity of Dragulia’s estate.
Meticulously he unpacked his weapons and cleaned each one of the grimes of the journey. This would have normally been the job of the squires which had travelled with them and taken residence in the servants’ wing of the house. But Gabriel could not bring himself to lie down in the bed, which looked inviting and soft. He could not bring himself to relax in this house, with the nagging feeling in the back of his scull telling him he was in the presence of true evil.
x x x x x x x
The morning was crispy and cool, frost was still stubbornly lingering on the ground but Anna could smell spring in the air. She loved to do the morning chores, unlike the other maids, she did not mind the biting cold or the early wake-up. The fire was slowly beginning to kindle in the fireplace, bringing a slow glow to the kitchen. Silently she moved to the back door, walking to the storage buildings nestled together at the back of the house. She collected the dried meat, flour and eggs into her basket, preparing the kitchen for the cook when she finally woke up. She would have to come later to bring out one of the beer barrels.
The other maids began slowly streaming into the kitchen where they had their meagre breakfast of porridge and ale. Anna sat on the stairway listening to the other women’s gossip with only half an ear. Soon she would have to start making her rounds of the rooms, clearing out laundry while the gentry dined. The horrible wailing woke her from her thoughts and made her spine stiffen. At first she thought the cook had taken the pig to the butchery a week early, but from the shouts she realised the screamer was human. She leaped off the step, pulling on her thick coat, and slid around the building to catch a glimpse of the central square.
The well was surrounded by Dragulia’s men. She slid next to the building’s walls, trying to hide herself in the shadows. The bellowing got more deafening the closer she got. Four of the black clad men were holding a balding man down as he desperately tried to escape from his clutches. She could see Dragulia wrapped in his warm furs on the steps of the manor. The movements of his hands were dismissing of the screaming man. Anna moved closer and saw the pole on the ground, sharpened and gleaming. She felt her stomach heave, but forced it back down. Her fear intensified as she saw their newest guest coming down from the manor. The men spread out around the square, watching the proceedings. She could see the tense shoulders and hands ready by the swords.
She slid in the shadows until right behind the man with the intense eyes.
“This is not the time.”
She could feel him stiffen further, he did not turn around, but spoke silently into the cold air.
“I cannot just watch them kill this man.”
Furiously Anna shook her head, even if she knew he could not see it.
“You must choose you battles wisely. If you fight today you will loose, and all of your men will be facing the poles.”
He seemed to be on the verge of arguing back, but his fingers motioned the others to stand down. Anna could feel him shake with fury as they stripped the man and dragged him to the pole. Without any though of decorum she pushed her body flush against his back and curled her fingers around his arm.
“You must stand this. You have to hold fast and watch the death of innocents to protect what you believe must be done.”
He seemed to sway in her half embrace, but nodded softly as the man’s screams reached its pinnacle and the pole was inserted. Anna closed her eyes against his shoulder and whispered
“Meet me by the orchard down valley tomorrow morning and I will show you everything.”
He felt the man’s arm reach out for her hand and squeezed it as the pole was lifted upright. The servants had to serve Dragulia’s breakfast outdoors; so he could enjoy the view better.
x x x x x x x
The day and night had been restless. All of the servants had been jumpy; fluttering around like a frightened flock of birds to fulfil their master’s every command. The screams had died at mid-day, and Anna was grateful for it. She wrapped her coat more securely around herself, trying to get comfortable on the root she was sitting on. The man was late, but Anna knew that the gentry’s idea of morning was very different from hers.
She rose to her feet when she heard his steps crunching on the overnight frost. He looked at her for a moment between the bare apple trees, and then nodded slightly. Anna motioned him to follow and lead him through the orchard. His steps were measured, but she could still feel the rage simmering beneath that controlled façade. She smiled grimly to herself; he will learn to live with the rage and the hopelessness before the summer is over.
“That man died overnight.”
He was controlling his voice better that Anna would have thought. She just smiled sadly and shook her head.
“Usually it takes them a while to die. Marcell and the others went to the pole last night to aid his journey.”
“They killed him!”
He sounded so truly shocked that Anna had to stop. She looked at his stricken face and dark eyes which looked at her like she had committed the most worst of sins, and in his eyes she probably had.
“Sir, we are a long way from Rome and its laws. We do not try to prevent suffering anymore, we cannot. We can merely shorten its length.”
“How can you be so cold?”
Anna just shook her head a continued on. The trees were now thick around her, bare from the harsh winter, but she could still remember when there were leaves and the smell of death had hung in the air. As they reached the valley she could feel the man stop behind her.
Hundreds of poles rose from the ground. The remains of human corpses were wrapped around each one. The winter had eaten away most of the flesh what the wild animals had not cleared before the bodies froze. Anna continued down, closer to the strange tomb that the valley had become. The man did not follow her for a long time. She was nearly by the first bodies before she heard him move down the slope. She stood waiting as he reached her, face pale and drawn.
“It was last summer that Dragulia came. His father had long desired to journey to the holy City of Jerusalem and when he left, Dragulia came here to spend the summer months hunting and entertaining his knights.”
She moved in between the bodies. The smell had long ago disappeared and most of them were barely skeletons anymore.
“Things began to change. The law began to change. Suddenly everything we did wrong was punishable by death. He brought the poles and we did not have the men to resist him. The neighbouring villages and clans decided to unite in attempt to stop him, but as you can see we failed. Most of the men are here. As are their wives and their children.”
She could see him looking around, muted by the silence of the valley. Anna was used to it by now, embraced it. She had come here in the dead of night last year with Marcell and with few other survivors and had helped some of the children to die. It had not been silent then.
“I do not know about the Devil or if he has taken over Dragulia’s soul. Nor do I know about God, but I highly doubt He lives here anymore.”
“I am truly sorry.”
His voice sounded parched and Anna nodded. This was not his fault.
“We came here to stop Dragulia, to bring him back from whatever darkness has clouded his mind. And we will.”
He sounded so sure and strong, but Anna could see the hopelessness curling in his eyes now.
“You have only ten men with you. Dragulia has hundreds. The work that Marcell and the others, and I, have been doing in not about saving him.”
Anna walked away from him, shielding her eyes with her hand from the rising sun.
“Are you willing to be a part of that? Are you willing to murder the protector of Rome if it must be done?”
Anna could see him looking at the bodies, his eyes seeing them as they were that sunny August morning last year.
“Look into you heart, sir Knight. If you are willing to go to war, come to the smithy after midnight. If not, wine and dine and enjoy the hospitality of Valerious castle, and leave.”
x x x x x x x
The final warm rays of the sun were sinking below the horizon and the forest was lit-up in an eerie glow. Gabriel watched the gathered knights and felt the enormity of his task weighting on his shoulders. Beaumont would be a great help, but could he control his temper? Could he be as calculating and as cold as they needed him to be. Adrian was too soft. He was a court knight, groomed in the way of politics and poetry instead of battle and blood. He would be swayed by Dragulia’s argument and their Order’s plight. Gabriel knew that they could not fight against the Turks and against Dragulia. As a military man he knew that Wallachia was a lost cause. The armies of Mehmed had grown more bold and arrogant every year, but could he sacrifice the lives and land of these people for the capture of Dragulia?
The knights formed in a circle around Gabriel and Beaumont nodded for him to begin. As emotionlessly as possible he described the forest of impaled bodies he had seen yesterday and outlined briefly the meeting he had been summoned to. He could see the knights’ suspicion and Tristan was the first to voice it.
“Can we trust these peasants? You have heard how Dragulia has punished those disloyal to him. This meeting might just be a ploy to see if we are not loyal to the cause.”
Gabriel could understand his concern; it had been plaguing his mind as well. He did believe the summons to be genuine. There had been something about the woman, Anna, which had made him believe without hesitation. However, Beaumont rose to agree with Tristan.
“I must agree that meeting with them now would be rash and too dangerous. We must watch and observe these people before we make our choice. To set ourselves into one alliance now would be foolish.”
Gabriel had to agree. Allying with the pheasants now could be their death sentence.
“I need all of you to observe the servants in the castle. Who changes the bedding? Who is in the kitchen? We need to know our allies and those loyal to Dragulia’s cause. I believe the servants are the key. They can go anywhere in the house and they overhear things. Some of you will also need to get close to Dragulia’s mistresses.”
To this especially David and Dathan grinned lasciviously. Their group silently separated, each knight making his way to the castle through a different route. Beaumont stayed behind his eyes measuring Gabriel for moments.
“What do you really believe?”
It was a strange question, but Gabriel guessed what he was speaking of. They had all seen the woman and all wondered about her.
“I believe that she speaks the truth, and that we need them to succeed in this task.”
Surprisingly Beaumont grinned.
“So I am to assume that she is the one servant you will be observing, eh!”
x x x x x x x
The dreams had voices and colours which he could not see. They were not really colours at all, more like feelings, things unseen by his fickle eyes. The voices were huge, and vibrated in motion and not in sound. He shivered. There was a memory of power and understanding somewhere in the back of his mind but he could not grasp it. Sweaty and cold, Gabriel lay in bed. The dreams of battles and blood and dying horses he had learned how to control, and the times they pushed into his mind he knew how to push them back. These dreams were new. They were voiceless and nameless and terrible in a way Gabriel could not quite describe. He was not prepared when the slim form of the chamber maid slipped between the wooden doors carrying a huge basket. She disconcerted him more than anything had since his arrival into this strange land. Boldly she pushed his covers aside, making a space for herself on the bed. She seemed to have no concern for her virtue or reputation and for a moment Gabriel felt modest on her behalf. Her huge dark eyes stared at him from between the unruly curls and then she motioned towards the door.
“You did not come to the meeting.”
Her tone was accusing and Gabriel felt like he needed to defend his choices to her.
“You need to learn about his men. Radu likes to drink and Dragulia trusts him more than any of the others. He likes to take the light haired scullery maid to his bed. You need to be done with him quickly.”
Gabriel though of the slim young thing he had seen scuttling around Anna in the kitchen, and shuddered. Paying no heed to his repulsion she carried on, her voice low and urgent.
“Dragomir is the powerful one. He could lead the men. Dragulia respects him, but keeps spies on him. He fears him…”
Gabriel held up his hand to still the flood of words.
“I cannot help you in your quest. I was sent here to rescue these men. They are being tempted by the Devil. I cannot just leave them to be Dragulia’s pawns or kill them without mercy.”
Anna gathered her hair in a ponytail and secured it with a leather strap and nodded, spitting her words at him.
“Then you do what your God requires of you.”
She got up from the bed and grabbed the basket.
“When will you see that some are beyond salvation? I am tired of you holy men and your holy quest when the blood is drawn from my people.”
Her voice never rose in pitch, but the venom in her eyes made Gabriel shiver.
“My Lady, I cannot do what is against the code.”
With force she tore down his sheets and quilts stuffing them into the basket. Her cheeks were coloured and her voice shook.
“Then you have condemned all of us and your men. Evil is very seductive, even to those most devout in their faith. If you cannot help us then you must leave.”
Gabriel pushed himself up and out of the bed, which was slowly being torn apart by her rage.
“I cannot leave until my task in completed, my Lady.”
She made a furious sound in the back of her throat and tore out from the room, leaving Gabriel in his nightshirt and without any bedding. Slowly he dressed and made his way into the dining hall for breakfast. He stood by the door for long moments looking at a man who he assumed to be Radu. He was the sole diner on the table. The skinny little servant girl was standing next to him with her hands braced on the table. Gabriel could see the man’s thick arm disappearing into the back of the girl’s skirt. Her face was turned away from him, her eyes squeezed shut. Gabriel wanted to draw his sword and fly to the girl’s rescue, but he knew he could not. Slowly he walked into the hall, nodding politely to the man as he brazenly continued to defile the girl. He ate the bread and the meat and drank the strong ale, but tasted nothing of it. Radu slapped the girl on her behind after a while, and finally sent her on her way.
continue
The cover I posted with the last chapter is actually more fitting with this part, so scroll down if you have time :P
There is some very violent and disturbing content in this chapter. Those who do not wish or should not be exposed to this, please stop here. Those of you who are of strong constitution, please carry on (and review!)
Part 2
as we carried the weight
and died for the cause
is misery
made beautiful
right before our eyes
will mercy be revealed
or blind us where we stand
-Sarah McLachlan, “ Witness”
Wallachia, March 1462
Their journey had been long and cold and Gabriel expected that their welcome would not be any more pleasant. If the rumours travelling from Transylvania were anything to go by, their small group would have their work cut out for them. He looked on at Tristan’s hunched back and sent a silent prayer into the Heavens. The men had grown restless as they neared their destination; Wallachia and the village of Vaseria and its heir, who was rumoured to be in covenant with the Devil himself. Gabriel doubted that the devil would lower himself for a nobleman’s son, but the foul mood of the other men made him weary. They had all been trained by the Order to resist evil and sense its presence. There was evil festering in Vaseria, that was no question, but whether it was merely human corruption or a supernatural force was to be seen.
He felt it slightly before the trees began to shake. A horse violently pushed through the thicket, its nostrils flared. Its rider had clearly not expected a block on the road and the horse reared up, neighing in surprise. Their horses pushed into the woods, attempting to give space to their panicked fellow. The rider pulled on the animal’s reins, trying to force it through the melee of men and beasts. Then Gabriel heard the shouts, the rhythmic gallop through the forest. The hood of the rider fell back revealing a mass of black hair and refined features of a young woman. Before any of them had time to react she had pulled a crossbow from her saddle, squarely aiming at to where she had appeared from. Tristan moved to disarm her, but before he reached the woman’s side two riders rushed to the road. Swords drawn they charged towards them. Without hesitation the woman shot one of the riders, hitting him on the shoulder. The rider seemed to shake off the hit moving swiftly towards her, his sword raised next to his head.
Her horse reared again, most likely saving her life. Gabriel pulled at his own reigns, forcing his horse towards the riders, drawing his sword. From the corner of his eye he could see Beaumont advancing on the second rider, glint of fury in his eyes. The first rider charged on Gabriel, deftly ducking from the other man’s blow Gabriel sunk his sword into the man’s side, calling forth a gush of blood. The man’s horse slowed down as he slumped against his neck. Gabriel turned just in time to see Beaumont’s blade sliding through the second man’s neck, his head rolling onto the road. He could see the woman attempting to steer her horse from the melee, but Tristan and Adrian blocked her way. Gabriel turned his horse around, fully surrounding her.
He could see her back tensing, nostrils flaring slightly in the cold air. Gabriel reached out for her, but found himself facing a blackened dagger.
“My lady, I mean you no harm…”
“I am no one’s Lady.”
Her voice was soft, but he could feel the strength beneath the words. Slowly he pulled his hand back, motioning with his eyes the men to back away. Beaumont gave a disbelieving snort, but pulled his horse back. Her eyes moved from man to man, evaluating each in turn.
“You are not Dragulia’s men.”
She tilted her head towards the fallen men, indicating their affiliations. Gabriel shook his head.
“Why are you here?”
Her voice was full of suspicion, her posture still tense. Later on Gabriel did not know what made him gamble all of their lives, he would call it an instinct, but part of him just could not do anything but tell her the truth.
“We were sent here by the Knights of the Holy Order to investigate Valerious’ son, Vladislaus.”
She seemed to relax slightly, but her eyes remained closed off. He did not know why she chose to believe him, but thought maybe it was something to do with his willingness to trust her so suddenly.
“You better follow me then. I will take you to the village.”
She turned her horse around, moving with a steady trot into the woods. The band of men composed themselves after the disruption of the fight and all moved to follow her. Gabriel could feel the disbelieving gaze of Beaumont on his back, but chose to ignore his comrade’s anger. Adrian moved past both of them, deftly moving his horse next to the woman’s. She, however, gave Adrian very little time to compose himself.
“Why did you kill the men?”
Gabriel had to smile at her abruptness. Adrian eyed her strangely, but her forceful gaze forced him to answer.
“They seemed to be chasing you. We were only trying to protect you.”
“Because I am a woman, in need of a rescue.”
She finished for him and then she laughed, the sound was hollow and it made Gabriel’s spine prickle. She moved to another road which appeared again, out of nowhere between the thick trees. She moved onto a gallop, gracefully moving with the motions of her horse. Gabriel now had time to analyse her from a distance. She had seemed proud and wilful, but her clothing revealed her to be some kind of servant, maybe a chamber maid. Her boots were scuffed and the hem of her dress badly muddied and torn. Her thick coat seemed far too large for her. Gabriel urged his horse next to hers; she gave him a look, but did not say anything.
The road started widening and Gabriel began to hear the sound of people in the air. She slowed her horse down to a trot, turning towards Adrian.
“If you trust appearances so willingly, you will not last long here.”
Behind the bend an outcropping of houses came into view. Otherwise it appeared to be a normal midsized village, if it had not been the pungent wrongness in the air. Gabriel wrinkled his nose, even though it was more of a feeling than a real smell. Again the woman gave her a strange look, and then continued:
“In Vaseria nothing is as it seems.”
Even though she was talking to Adrian, Gabriel could feel that the words were directed more at him, than his fellow knight. Eyeing the group distrustfully, she gave them a scornful look, then egging her horse into a trot; she disappeared between two run-down houses.
The Village was dominated by a large manor house. Gabriel could feel the gazes of the people on his back even though it seemed that no one was looking at the newcomers. He could feel it now, mixed beneath the wrongness, sadness and despair in the air. Beaumont was the first to move, guiding their party towards the stony steps of the house.
x x x x x x x
Anna pushed her heels to the side of her horse, urging the animal into the small alleyways between the houses. The rounded up through the village ending in the back entrance of the Valerious Manor. Simza appeared out of the kitchen door, as if sensing her presence. Her face was transformed into a furious scowl.
“What the damn are you doing back, girl!”
The whispered scream reached Anna’s ears as she dismounted and she winced. Simza had a way of making anyone feel like they had committed the greatest sin. She rushed from the doorway, grabbing her elbow.
“Answer me!”
“I was followed.”
She spit out, fury rising in her now.
“There are knights from the Vatican here! They killed Dragulia’s men.”
Simza was shocked into silence, staring at her in fear.
“How could you trust them! They could have been anyone!”
Her voice was hoarse, her hands balled into fists. Anna suspected she would very much like to hit her now, but was containing her temper at such a public place.
“I just knew.”
She shoved the reins into the older woman’s hands and moved to leave.
“Anna!”
Impatiently she shook her head.
“I need to tell Marcell to clean out the bodies.”
She disappeared into the shadows on the side of the huge wall. Simza squeezed the leathery rains in her hands, willing her heart rate to slow down. New guests, she had to prepare for the new guests.
x x x x x x x
The furnace blew hot air in her face as Anna stepped into the smithy. Marcelle’s huge arms gleamed in the low light as he worked on the anvil. She walked onto the bench laid next to the wall and sank down. In the heat of the room she let herself unwind; the panic and the fear and exhaustion slowly working through her body. She felt her hands shaking inside the sleeves of her too big coat. She felt the blacksmith sit next to her, but felt too tired to open her eyes. Gently his clumsy hand petted her hair.
“It is alright, Anna. It was unfair of us to ask that of you.”
She shook her head, eyes still firmly shut.
“There was a band of knights on the road. Maybe four miles from the main gates. Dragulia’s men had almost caught me. They killed them. Cut one’s head clean off.”
Her speech was choppy, each sentence dragged from her as if by force. She let out a long breath and opened her eyes. The fire smouldered bright and hot in the heart of the furnace.
“They come from the Vatican. Trying to save Dragulia’s soul.”
To that Marcell gave a dry bark of laughter. He got up from the bench and began taking off his leather apron.
“I guess I need to be going then.”
Anna nodded; she needed to get back to the Manor before Simza killed herself with worry. She waved a half-hearted good-bye to the man and silently slipped out into the darkening evening.
x x x x x x x
The entrance hall was shadowy and a hunch-shouldered footman ushered them towards what Gabriel assumed was the dining hall. He could hear faint singing and the rowdy clank of goblets. The footman pushed the wooden doors wide open and announced their presence. At once a silence descended on the hall. Gabriel could see him, Dragulia, at the head of the giant table with a goblet in hand and a lazy indulgent smile gracing his face. He was not man of great stature, but something in his air made Gabriel wary. He had heard the tales of the Ottoman defeater, his heroics in defending the Holy Empire, as well as those of his unbearable cruelty. The smile faded now and a he greeted his new visitors with a polite half bow, but remained seated. He could feel Beaumont’s fury at this insult and stepped forward from the band of Knights.
“I bring a greeting from the Holy Father. He has seen your struggle and you valour in the war against the godless Turks. We are Knights of the Order and we come to you in aid in this dark time.”
Their eyes bore to each other, both men weighting the other. His eyes were cold and Gabriel could see the calculating intelligence, which so few men possessed, in Vladislaus Dragulia, Vlad the Impaler as the pheasants called him. Part of Gabriel made the conscious choice of letting the cruelty he had often dished out in the battle field come to the surface. He wanted the Wallachian prince to see an equal in him, to gain his confidence. Dragulia’s eyes were unreadable, but then he rose and greeted the Knight in a way befitting noblemen.
“I hail you Knights of the Order and gladly accept you noble offer. I demand that you remain here as my guests and enjoy the best of Wallachian hospitality.”
A band of servants gathered around and cleared space around the long table. Plates and goblets appeared out of nowhere and before Gabriel could even remark on the swiftness of the serving they were already enjoying the excellent game and wine on offer. Throughout the meal Gabriel kept silent vigil of Dragulia. After their arrival the Prince had spared not two words to the newest members of his court. As always he could see the circles of trust, as if someone had drawn them physically in the air. The men closest were the ones vying for favour, for position. The trustees were in the centre, father away, fat and content in their power. The fine game turned ashen in his mouth each time his gaze passed that of the prince. He could feel the evil in him, could not point it or draw it out, but it was clear that Dragulia was influenced by much more that just the power of the Almighty.
Gabriel understood the Church’s desperation in the fight against the Ottomans and against Mehmed the II, but now he feared they had gone too far. Dragulia was too close to the enemy. He had lived the early years of his life as a prisoner of truce in Mehmed’s court and absorbed the customs and, most of all, the battle strategies of the Turks. The Order did not like this closeness to be remarked upon. They only basked in the glory of Dragulia’s victories and blissfully ignored the rumours of his insanity.
The women entered silently and deftly from the side door, spreading around the rooms. Some of them moved to what Gabriel assumed to be men familiar to them and some lingered on the edges of the room. She entered last with her heavily embroidered dress and complicated head jewellery and outshone each other woman in the hall. Her steady steps lead her to the Prince, but he spared her no interest.
She lingered behind his chair, sometimes floating to the side into the Dragulia’s field of vision and then back again. Her stark black hair and white complexion made her shine out among the women. She was clearly of high nobility, and the boyar girls flocked in her shadow. There was a coldness to her which Gabriel had never seen in any woman; not even the woman in the forest who had a kind of thick rage about her. This one was like a corpse, sucked dry from all the life by the closeness of the prince. They left the hall together, with his hand in the small of her back, leading her into the hallway. He looked back at them from the doorway, and once more Gabriel could, only for a moment, feel his evaluating gaze, before it disappeared into the dark.
The footman once again appeared by the table and they were lead to another wing of the house. All of the rooms were situated very close to one another in the east tower. Gabriel was surprised that Dragulia did not attempt to break them apart for better tactical advantage, but then again this move signalled of his complete faith in his control over his dominion. Gabriel’s room was large, showing the prosperity of Dragulia’s estate.
Meticulously he unpacked his weapons and cleaned each one of the grimes of the journey. This would have normally been the job of the squires which had travelled with them and taken residence in the servants’ wing of the house. But Gabriel could not bring himself to lie down in the bed, which looked inviting and soft. He could not bring himself to relax in this house, with the nagging feeling in the back of his scull telling him he was in the presence of true evil.
x x x x x x x
The morning was crispy and cool, frost was still stubbornly lingering on the ground but Anna could smell spring in the air. She loved to do the morning chores, unlike the other maids, she did not mind the biting cold or the early wake-up. The fire was slowly beginning to kindle in the fireplace, bringing a slow glow to the kitchen. Silently she moved to the back door, walking to the storage buildings nestled together at the back of the house. She collected the dried meat, flour and eggs into her basket, preparing the kitchen for the cook when she finally woke up. She would have to come later to bring out one of the beer barrels.
The other maids began slowly streaming into the kitchen where they had their meagre breakfast of porridge and ale. Anna sat on the stairway listening to the other women’s gossip with only half an ear. Soon she would have to start making her rounds of the rooms, clearing out laundry while the gentry dined. The horrible wailing woke her from her thoughts and made her spine stiffen. At first she thought the cook had taken the pig to the butchery a week early, but from the shouts she realised the screamer was human. She leaped off the step, pulling on her thick coat, and slid around the building to catch a glimpse of the central square.
The well was surrounded by Dragulia’s men. She slid next to the building’s walls, trying to hide herself in the shadows. The bellowing got more deafening the closer she got. Four of the black clad men were holding a balding man down as he desperately tried to escape from his clutches. She could see Dragulia wrapped in his warm furs on the steps of the manor. The movements of his hands were dismissing of the screaming man. Anna moved closer and saw the pole on the ground, sharpened and gleaming. She felt her stomach heave, but forced it back down. Her fear intensified as she saw their newest guest coming down from the manor. The men spread out around the square, watching the proceedings. She could see the tense shoulders and hands ready by the swords.
She slid in the shadows until right behind the man with the intense eyes.
“This is not the time.”
She could feel him stiffen further, he did not turn around, but spoke silently into the cold air.
“I cannot just watch them kill this man.”
Furiously Anna shook her head, even if she knew he could not see it.
“You must choose you battles wisely. If you fight today you will loose, and all of your men will be facing the poles.”
He seemed to be on the verge of arguing back, but his fingers motioned the others to stand down. Anna could feel him shake with fury as they stripped the man and dragged him to the pole. Without any though of decorum she pushed her body flush against his back and curled her fingers around his arm.
“You must stand this. You have to hold fast and watch the death of innocents to protect what you believe must be done.”
He seemed to sway in her half embrace, but nodded softly as the man’s screams reached its pinnacle and the pole was inserted. Anna closed her eyes against his shoulder and whispered
“Meet me by the orchard down valley tomorrow morning and I will show you everything.”
He felt the man’s arm reach out for her hand and squeezed it as the pole was lifted upright. The servants had to serve Dragulia’s breakfast outdoors; so he could enjoy the view better.
x x x x x x x
The day and night had been restless. All of the servants had been jumpy; fluttering around like a frightened flock of birds to fulfil their master’s every command. The screams had died at mid-day, and Anna was grateful for it. She wrapped her coat more securely around herself, trying to get comfortable on the root she was sitting on. The man was late, but Anna knew that the gentry’s idea of morning was very different from hers.
She rose to her feet when she heard his steps crunching on the overnight frost. He looked at her for a moment between the bare apple trees, and then nodded slightly. Anna motioned him to follow and lead him through the orchard. His steps were measured, but she could still feel the rage simmering beneath that controlled façade. She smiled grimly to herself; he will learn to live with the rage and the hopelessness before the summer is over.
“That man died overnight.”
He was controlling his voice better that Anna would have thought. She just smiled sadly and shook her head.
“Usually it takes them a while to die. Marcell and the others went to the pole last night to aid his journey.”
“They killed him!”
He sounded so truly shocked that Anna had to stop. She looked at his stricken face and dark eyes which looked at her like she had committed the most worst of sins, and in his eyes she probably had.
“Sir, we are a long way from Rome and its laws. We do not try to prevent suffering anymore, we cannot. We can merely shorten its length.”
“How can you be so cold?”
Anna just shook her head a continued on. The trees were now thick around her, bare from the harsh winter, but she could still remember when there were leaves and the smell of death had hung in the air. As they reached the valley she could feel the man stop behind her.
Hundreds of poles rose from the ground. The remains of human corpses were wrapped around each one. The winter had eaten away most of the flesh what the wild animals had not cleared before the bodies froze. Anna continued down, closer to the strange tomb that the valley had become. The man did not follow her for a long time. She was nearly by the first bodies before she heard him move down the slope. She stood waiting as he reached her, face pale and drawn.
“It was last summer that Dragulia came. His father had long desired to journey to the holy City of Jerusalem and when he left, Dragulia came here to spend the summer months hunting and entertaining his knights.”
She moved in between the bodies. The smell had long ago disappeared and most of them were barely skeletons anymore.
“Things began to change. The law began to change. Suddenly everything we did wrong was punishable by death. He brought the poles and we did not have the men to resist him. The neighbouring villages and clans decided to unite in attempt to stop him, but as you can see we failed. Most of the men are here. As are their wives and their children.”
She could see him looking around, muted by the silence of the valley. Anna was used to it by now, embraced it. She had come here in the dead of night last year with Marcell and with few other survivors and had helped some of the children to die. It had not been silent then.
“I do not know about the Devil or if he has taken over Dragulia’s soul. Nor do I know about God, but I highly doubt He lives here anymore.”
“I am truly sorry.”
His voice sounded parched and Anna nodded. This was not his fault.
“We came here to stop Dragulia, to bring him back from whatever darkness has clouded his mind. And we will.”
He sounded so sure and strong, but Anna could see the hopelessness curling in his eyes now.
“You have only ten men with you. Dragulia has hundreds. The work that Marcell and the others, and I, have been doing in not about saving him.”
Anna walked away from him, shielding her eyes with her hand from the rising sun.
“Are you willing to be a part of that? Are you willing to murder the protector of Rome if it must be done?”
Anna could see him looking at the bodies, his eyes seeing them as they were that sunny August morning last year.
“Look into you heart, sir Knight. If you are willing to go to war, come to the smithy after midnight. If not, wine and dine and enjoy the hospitality of Valerious castle, and leave.”
x x x x x x x
The final warm rays of the sun were sinking below the horizon and the forest was lit-up in an eerie glow. Gabriel watched the gathered knights and felt the enormity of his task weighting on his shoulders. Beaumont would be a great help, but could he control his temper? Could he be as calculating and as cold as they needed him to be. Adrian was too soft. He was a court knight, groomed in the way of politics and poetry instead of battle and blood. He would be swayed by Dragulia’s argument and their Order’s plight. Gabriel knew that they could not fight against the Turks and against Dragulia. As a military man he knew that Wallachia was a lost cause. The armies of Mehmed had grown more bold and arrogant every year, but could he sacrifice the lives and land of these people for the capture of Dragulia?
The knights formed in a circle around Gabriel and Beaumont nodded for him to begin. As emotionlessly as possible he described the forest of impaled bodies he had seen yesterday and outlined briefly the meeting he had been summoned to. He could see the knights’ suspicion and Tristan was the first to voice it.
“Can we trust these peasants? You have heard how Dragulia has punished those disloyal to him. This meeting might just be a ploy to see if we are not loyal to the cause.”
Gabriel could understand his concern; it had been plaguing his mind as well. He did believe the summons to be genuine. There had been something about the woman, Anna, which had made him believe without hesitation. However, Beaumont rose to agree with Tristan.
“I must agree that meeting with them now would be rash and too dangerous. We must watch and observe these people before we make our choice. To set ourselves into one alliance now would be foolish.”
Gabriel had to agree. Allying with the pheasants now could be their death sentence.
“I need all of you to observe the servants in the castle. Who changes the bedding? Who is in the kitchen? We need to know our allies and those loyal to Dragulia’s cause. I believe the servants are the key. They can go anywhere in the house and they overhear things. Some of you will also need to get close to Dragulia’s mistresses.”
To this especially David and Dathan grinned lasciviously. Their group silently separated, each knight making his way to the castle through a different route. Beaumont stayed behind his eyes measuring Gabriel for moments.
“What do you really believe?”
It was a strange question, but Gabriel guessed what he was speaking of. They had all seen the woman and all wondered about her.
“I believe that she speaks the truth, and that we need them to succeed in this task.”
Surprisingly Beaumont grinned.
“So I am to assume that she is the one servant you will be observing, eh!”
x x x x x x x
The dreams had voices and colours which he could not see. They were not really colours at all, more like feelings, things unseen by his fickle eyes. The voices were huge, and vibrated in motion and not in sound. He shivered. There was a memory of power and understanding somewhere in the back of his mind but he could not grasp it. Sweaty and cold, Gabriel lay in bed. The dreams of battles and blood and dying horses he had learned how to control, and the times they pushed into his mind he knew how to push them back. These dreams were new. They were voiceless and nameless and terrible in a way Gabriel could not quite describe. He was not prepared when the slim form of the chamber maid slipped between the wooden doors carrying a huge basket. She disconcerted him more than anything had since his arrival into this strange land. Boldly she pushed his covers aside, making a space for herself on the bed. She seemed to have no concern for her virtue or reputation and for a moment Gabriel felt modest on her behalf. Her huge dark eyes stared at him from between the unruly curls and then she motioned towards the door.
“You did not come to the meeting.”
Her tone was accusing and Gabriel felt like he needed to defend his choices to her.
“You need to learn about his men. Radu likes to drink and Dragulia trusts him more than any of the others. He likes to take the light haired scullery maid to his bed. You need to be done with him quickly.”
Gabriel though of the slim young thing he had seen scuttling around Anna in the kitchen, and shuddered. Paying no heed to his repulsion she carried on, her voice low and urgent.
“Dragomir is the powerful one. He could lead the men. Dragulia respects him, but keeps spies on him. He fears him…”
Gabriel held up his hand to still the flood of words.
“I cannot help you in your quest. I was sent here to rescue these men. They are being tempted by the Devil. I cannot just leave them to be Dragulia’s pawns or kill them without mercy.”
Anna gathered her hair in a ponytail and secured it with a leather strap and nodded, spitting her words at him.
“Then you do what your God requires of you.”
She got up from the bed and grabbed the basket.
“When will you see that some are beyond salvation? I am tired of you holy men and your holy quest when the blood is drawn from my people.”
Her voice never rose in pitch, but the venom in her eyes made Gabriel shiver.
“My Lady, I cannot do what is against the code.”
With force she tore down his sheets and quilts stuffing them into the basket. Her cheeks were coloured and her voice shook.
“Then you have condemned all of us and your men. Evil is very seductive, even to those most devout in their faith. If you cannot help us then you must leave.”
Gabriel pushed himself up and out of the bed, which was slowly being torn apart by her rage.
“I cannot leave until my task in completed, my Lady.”
She made a furious sound in the back of her throat and tore out from the room, leaving Gabriel in his nightshirt and without any bedding. Slowly he dressed and made his way into the dining hall for breakfast. He stood by the door for long moments looking at a man who he assumed to be Radu. He was the sole diner on the table. The skinny little servant girl was standing next to him with her hands braced on the table. Gabriel could see the man’s thick arm disappearing into the back of the girl’s skirt. Her face was turned away from him, her eyes squeezed shut. Gabriel wanted to draw his sword and fly to the girl’s rescue, but he knew he could not. Slowly he walked into the hall, nodding politely to the man as he brazenly continued to defile the girl. He ate the bread and the meat and drank the strong ale, but tasted nothing of it. Radu slapped the girl on her behind after a while, and finally sent her on her way.
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