The Fused & The Muse Ch. 4

Wallachia, Romania

Early 1462

A lady ran across the hallways worriedly. Nothing else was heard but the clanking of her footsteps, as the heels of her shoes met the marbled floor. It echoed around the room, half-empty, with only but a few trinkets and vases of flowers that sat on top of small, Roman pedestals. "Young lord! Please come out! I don't like playing this game anymore!" She crouched down on the floor to look around the little nooks and crannies of the room.

Maria, the Albanian Princess, walked in the room and found the woman crouching on the floor. She tilted her head to the side and walked forward. "You there, have you seen my son?" The woman froze on the floor. She slowly stood up and faced the princess. "My Lady! We...we are just playing a game is all." Maria raised a brow in question. "Oh? And what game would that be?" The woman’s eyes quivered and she looked around the room once more. "We are taking turns hiding inside the castle." " “Oh? Well, please tell my son that his father is awaiting him at the courtyard." Maria had said it loud enough, hoping for the young prince to come out of hiding. "Yes m'lady," she nodded her head.

Maria left the room and the young prince jumped behind the woman. "Surrender!" The woman jumped and turned around. She found the young prince in front of her, with his arms raised—a wooden sword in his hand. The woman chuckled. "Come now young lord. Your mother and father are waiting for you." She walked behind him as he trotted along, swinging his sword to the air. They stepped out the castle and into the courtyard, only to find horsemen lined up.

"Father! Look what I've got!" The young prince ran to his father—Radu cel Frumos, also known as Radu lll, the Handsome. He was a fine looking gentleman, brave and fair. He was the youngest son of Vlad ll Dracul, but has been serving the Ottomans, in the quest of dethroning his ruthless brother. "Hey there! What have you got?" The young prince swung his sword. "Woah-ho! You're getting good at this!" Radu dodged his son’s wooden sword, as it swayed across him. Maria stood beside Radu, carefully watching over the young prince. A horseman made his way to Radu. "The men are ready. We move out on your word." Radu nods his head and the man steps away. He crouched down to the young prince and rest his hand on the top of his head. The young prince looks at him and awaits his words patiently, knowing what was to come.

"My son, I will come back soon to continue your lessons. You keep practicing and I promise I'll practice too while I'm away. Take care of your mother for me. You’re the man of the house." He shuffled his hair and the young prince hugged him. "Come back safely father." "I will my son." He stood up and faced Maria. "You come back to us alive." He smiled warmly and kissed her. "I'll come back with my throne." He hopped on his horse and took hold of the reins. "Move out!" The horsemen made their way out, one after another, in a uniformed manner. The horses neighed and began to gallop. Maria held the young prince's hand as she waved to her husband.

The door opened and a servant stepped inside the dim-lit room. "My liege, I have come to send word to you." Vlad traces the rim of his cup with his pointing finger, staring at the blood completely still and dark. "What is it?" He takes a sip and the man cleared his gullet before beginning. "The men at the borders claim to have seen an Ottoman army heading this way. They say that your brother...Radu...is at the head of the Janissary." Vlad growls but then, a smile crept up his face. "Let them come. It's been awhile since my young brother decides to visit me."

Radu and his men marches on to the palace, killing any men that stood in their way. When they approached Targoviste, they have encountered around 20,000 of their kind, impaled. Radu’s hand lifts up, halting his men. The horses whined and moved their heads from side to side. He hopped off his horse, slowly walking towards the bodies. The sight was horrifying and the smell was foul. Some men puked—their stomach not strong enough to withhold the wretched smell and the terrifying sight, despite the countless battles they fought. 20,000 men with their bodies pierced through and hanging on stakes. It was a forest of dead or dying men. The dying men were wailing and groaning in pain. Blood dripped down on the ground, scattered around the forest, tainting its soil a deep red.

Radu stood, but his knees were beginning to give away. His eyes trembled as he stared deep through the forest. These men...when he'd heard that Ottoman forces were defeated, he'd never thought that this was the fate they've come to. "M'lord. What do we do now?" Radu was in shock. The man's words rang through his head. His body became weaker, the longer he stared into the "forest." His knees finally gave away and he kneeled on the blood-tainted ground.

The man held his arm and helped him get back up. "My brother is a monster..." Radu lowered his head--the last word barely a whisper. "It's worse than I thought..." He looked behind him, to his men. They all looked sickly and tired. There was nothing else he could’ve done. His men were weary and in no condition to continue fighting--yet alone the hardest part of the battle. "You all are not well...We are all not well... It will do us no good if you men cannot fight. We head back to the empire at once and give word of this to the council. We will await their order and in the meantime, strengthen ourselves. This war...is going to be bigger than I'd hoped for." Radu and his men turned their course around and made their way back to the Ottoman empire. "It is not time yet, but the time will come very soon." Radu took one last glance at the "forest." The smell of blood fumed through his nose, tingling his eyes. "I must protect my family from that monster...My brother had completely turned and I must be able to contain it." Their horses galloped away and no one else dared to look back.

From miles away, Vlad watched as Radu and his men rode away. He clenched his fist, wrapping his hands around his glass cup. It broke in his hands, but the only blood that spilled, was the one already in his cup. "Fools...weak and pitiful. How do they expect to defeat me if they'd only run away with their tails wagging behind them...My brother has become weak. I knew that dog would only make him weaker...How am I the disgrace to our family name when it is him! He! He is the one who'd tangled himself into such..." He clenched his fist once more. "Perhaps it isn't the right time yet...Go on brother...make yourself stronger and then face me...show me the beast inside of you as I kill off your family...piece by piece." He laughed evilly and sat back down on the chair placed facing the window. He looked into his forest, admiring his creation. "Then...we'll see the true beast."

"This is a ruthless world and one must be ruthless to cope with it."

-Charlie Chaplin

picture cred: Dracula Untold