Forty-One

Romania, 1595 - Battle of Călugăreni

A lot of things happened after I lost Alizandra. I kept going with my campaign even worse than before, trying to drive the Ottomans from my land. When things got heavy and nasty, I discovered my new me, and I couldn’t be myself anymore, so I had to work in the background, making connections, infiltrating myself in armies and courts, changing my appearance from time to time.
Most of the people knew I was from the Drăculeşti branch. Vlad was a common name at the time. Consequently, there were lots of Vlads around. So I became a distant cousin of my infamous self, and let me tell you, it worked fine. People would notice my resemblance to my old self here and there, so one day, I woke up to be a wanderer ghost. The devil once more arose from its tomb to haunt the mortals, as they could never imagine I was the one and only, and I used it to my advantage.
For some time, I monitored a man, Mihai Pătraşcu, as he caught my attention for his fighting skills against the Ottomans. Anton and I presented ourselves as one of his supporters, but in 1593 a conflict between him and Alexandru, the prince of Wallachia, took place, making us flee to Transylvania. We stayed in the court of prince Sigismund Báthory for twelve days. It gnawed inside me that all these, one day, had belonged to me. It was my home. But at least I still could fight for our freedom.
“You must go to Constantinople and negotiate support from Murad, pledge allegiance to him. He’ll fall for it.” My mind worked overtime. We needed to gain some control over the territory or we were finished.
“Are you sure about that? He’s not stupid, Vlad.” Anton had his doubts. But I had a lot of experience and I knew how to deal with these things.
“I wouldn’t count on that. He’s not stupid, but he’s greedy.” I said, chuckling. “What do you think, Báthory?”
“I think it’s a fine plan, make him believe you enough to give us Wallachia, and then we’ll be ready to carry out the rest of the plan.” Báthory said with a glint of mischief on his face.
Our plan worked better than we could imagine, and a few months later, Mihai was invested as the prince. Alexandru, exiled and killed in Constantinople for conspiracy. So everything was going according to the plan. We didn’t waste time turning against Murad, the sultan, and joining forces with the Christian Alliance in Europe formed by Pope Clement. We signed treaties with the Holy Roman Emperor, also with Báthory and Aaron, from Moldova.
As soon as we had the green flag, we started our campaign against the Turks, driving them away and conquering back lots of towns in Transylvania and Moldova. Báthory was a sneaky man, and as soon as he could, he took Aaron from Moldova, arresting and exiling him to Alba Iulia, where he died from poisoning later. Don’t ask me if it was intentional!
“Mihai, the Ottoman forces are crossing the Danube!” Anton came with the news from our base, close to the river. “Unfortunately, they outnumber us by about three to one.”
“Can’t we divert them to the Neajlov river?” I advised, and the three of us went to the study room, retrieving a map and getting our hands on a plan. They were coming full force, and we needed to secure our side.
“We put a cavalry right here, in the village, pushing them towards the river, and I’ll settle south with my troops and cannons, waiting for them.” Mihai pointed to the river on the map.
“We can count on help to come from Transylvania. We won’t outnumber them, but we can manage it,” I added. “The reserves can be here at northwest to stop any attack coming this way.”
“I think we have an excellent strategy here, gentlemen. We’re ready.” Mihai was excited to put the plan to work, and so was I.
We waited for them in the swamp and they didn’t count for that, attacking them with a heavy artillery bombardment. We fought with everything we had, and we pushed them back to the Danube. I loved being in battles as I was born to be in a field, swinging my sword, and taking down my enemies, chopping them into small pieces as they deserved it.
Sadly, they invested against us again, making a frontal attack over the river’s bridge, and not only that, they used logs and planks to cross the marsh. Lots of them got swallowed by the swamp. We underestimated them a little, and I didn’t know how their cavalry crossed the wetlands and threatened Wallachia’s left wing. Mihai had to retreat and abandon the cannons, but not before we got to the north of the village and stopped their advance.
Sometime later, we led a massive frontal Wallachian attack. One captain had just returned from his mission with 400 cavalries and Mihai used them to our advantage. We cornered the enemy in a narrow space north of the river. I was already irritated enough with the situation, and now I could have fun with them as much as I wanted and let out some steam. I let my demon take over and he rejoiced every time I let him out, and he could show himself to the others.
“He’s a devil!!” They screamed before I jumped on them and sucked their blood dry.
“As always, coward!” I used to retort. “I’m the devil, and I came to deliver your penitence. Traitor!” Our counterattack reached the bridge again, and we could retrieve the cannons back, using them to inflict as many injuries and casualties as we could.
“Vlad, one day someone will see you revealing yourself. Behave, brother, we need no more troubles.”
“I will, Anton, but after I had my fill!” Anton used to just smirk, shaking his head. The look on my enemies’ faces right before their deaths was priceless. I’d get a jolt of adrenaline every time, just to think about it. Glowing eyes and baring fangs, I attacked them. They had nowhere to run, because even though they attempted to flee, I surpassed them in speed.
They tried to fight back, but we had an ace up our sleeves. My fellow Wallachians attacked their camp simultaneously, near Hulubeşti village, making them run for their lives. We had to regroup and maybe change tactics, so we retreated northward, abandoning Bucharest and Târgovişte, and waiting for support. Things weren’t going in our favor, and they outnumbered us again, but with fewer cannons.
When Báthory arrived with around 7500 cavalry and 1500 troops from Habsburg to support Mihai, believe me, I wanted to hug the man! The rest was history; we defeated them, and we took back Târgovişte, Bucharest, and Giurgiu.
Anton and I were entering the city of Giurgiu when I felt the surge of power, not even in battle I have ever felt this way. It was a force that hit me in full, as if I had collided into something, but the waves kept coming, washing over me. Then a beautiful girl about twelve years old, with flowing dress, giggling and chasing butterflies, ran in front of my horse, making it rear.
She looked to the horse in wonder, smiling, her light chestnut long hair in disarray, rosy cheeks, and laughter in those sparkling lavenders. I couldn’t believe in my own eyes. Could that be true? What kind of magic was at play in my life? A delicious scent of berries and flowers invaded all my senses, making my heart flutter. I calmed the horse down and dismounted, my breath held back as I went to her, kneeling by her side.