THE IMPALER'S WIFE

Chapter 25 ~VLAD~

VLAD

Winter 1451

Hunyadi's Castle in Hunedoara, Transylvania

Twenty-year-old Vlad Dracula stared agape at John Hunyadi's castle. Words left him. This was the majestic castle of his dreams. The one he imagined building, living in, rearing children in, and ruling his people from.

Vlad studied its architecture. A narrow bridge crossed a moat. There was a profusion of windows and balconies amid the fine checked walls, and conical spires sat like pointed hats atop the soaring towers. The castle was situated in a near impregnable location near the Zlaşti River, and its defense towers were wide enough to accommodate traction trebuchets and mangonels. A low approving whistle emitted between Vlad's lips. All it needed was tunnels to be perfect.

Vlad spoke over his shoulder to his men waiting behind him. "Let's find out why the great John Hunyadi needs a deposed prince's help." He started over the drawbridge.

"State your business." A guard shouted from atop the bartizan.

"I am Prince Vlad Dracula. I come at Hunyadi's request. He's expecting me."

The portcullis clanged upwards, and Dracula's entourage entered the courtyard where armed guards and Hunyadi's chancellor met them.

After surrendering their weapons, the chancellor led them inside. Vlad felt the same awe as when he had first walked into the sultan's palace in Edirne, Anatolia. Although his face was smooth with indifference, his eyes feasted on the marble columns, vaulted ceilings, ornate lamps, and ivory-inlayed buffets.

One day, he thought, I too will surround myself with the artistry of power and prosperity.

Vlad's purposeful stride faltered for moment upon entering the great hall. It was enormous, a chamber for a titan. Intimidating in its vast display of standards, portraits, and seals. Though stripped of his two former titles, it was clear Hunyadi was confident his status would rise again.

Vlad swallowed, breathed deep and stood tall, chest out, shoulders back. His chin in the air, he strode through the crowd of nobles, courtiers, and petitioners.

Hunyadi, lording over the room from a massive fur-draped chair, studied Dracula's arrogant approach. A shrewd judge of character, Hunyadi noted Vlad's haughty stride and knew it was authentic. He found Vlad's eyes bright and sharp with a courage borne of suffering and vengeance. Vlad's ambition equaled his own.

Formal introductions dispensed with, Hunyadi got right to the point. "Is it true you served five times in the Turkish army?"

"If you had competent spies you would know the answer." Vlad pretended annoyance. "Tell me, my lord, do you assess my honesty or your informants' because I did not travel all this way to answer a trivial question."

Hunyadi bit back a smile and leaned forward. "Then I will ask a weighty one. Do you seek your father's throne?"

Vlad puffed out his chest and spoke slowly. "It is mine by birthright."

Hunyadi smirked. "A throne belongs to the man earning it. An experienced warrior can take the throne—as you did a year ago—but only a skillful diplomat keeps it."

Vlad's mouth twitched, the truth piercing his pride. He kept silent, ready to turn on his heels if Hunyadi continued to malign him.

Hunyadi was glad he wiped the smug smile from the young prince's face. "Youthful ambition is best honed with the help of a clever mentor."

Vlad rubbed his chin with pretended skepticism. "Why would a clever mentor care about a young man's ambition?"

"He wouldn't." Hunyadi leaned back in the chair. "Not unless something could be gained, like a young man's intimate knowledge of their mutual enemy."