George informed Vlad that he intended to lead the squad. His father would draw out the enemy while the younger George led a group of soldiers with high stamina to carry out the plan.
When Vlad asked George what he thought their chances of success were, the young man admitted honestly that they were very low. “However,” he added, “considering the difference in the strength between our forces, if this doesn’t succeed, then any other fighting is pointless. As it stands now, no other nations around Walachia have shown any indication of helping. The only other option would be to ask Pope Sixtus IV to send troops.”
George silently met Vlad’s gaze. At times like this, showing any sort of nervous attitude would evoke the voivode’s distrust. Even if he had to be a little blunt, he felt it best to speak honestly and wanted the voivode to drop all pretense with him when it came to military matters.
Vlad immediately understood the meaning behind George’s words. “You’re expecting me to force the pope to take action,” he said in a low voice.
“Yes, my liege. I believe that was the reason for your conversion.”
Vlad’s eyes narrowed slightly.
George continued without pause. “We should use the Catholic Church to beat the Ottoman Empire. If that allows us to win, my liege, then I will have no objections whatsoever regarding your religion. My duty is to serve you to the best of my ability, no matter where that path may take me.”
George hoped that Vlad would find it easier to speak openly now. He waited to hear what the man would say.
“…The reason I converted,” Vlad said with surprising composure, “was because I wanted to create a blood tie with Hungary and strengthen our relationship with them. Matthias I, who took care of me during my incarceration, has a younger sister. By marrying her, I forged a bond with Hungary’s ruling house. She’s Catholic, though, so I had to disavow my Eastern Orthodox faith.”
George’s eyes dimmed. “And your wife, is she in Walachia now?”
“No, I left her at Visegrád in Hungary. The marriage was just for show; she’ll not be involved in any affairs of mine. However, as a result, I now have the Holy Roman army at my disposal.”
“How long until reinforcements arrive?”
“That will depend on the pope. He certainly won’t want the Ottoman Empire to take over Walachia, but he did lose to the imperial army at the siege of Smyrna, so he may be wary. However, if Walachia falls, the Ottoman army will advance into Transylvania.”
Vlad gently ran his index finger over the map. “And if they do that, they can then drive their daggers into Hungary’s throat. So it’s hard to imagine the church will choose not to act.”
George breathed a sigh of relief.
The voivode was indeed a calculating man.
He was using the church as a pawn to help him win his war, his conversion nothing more than treating God as a tool to employ. For that, he truly deserved to be called the devil by his enemies. Although he had converted to Catholicism, once peace returned, he could also disavow his religion again and return to the Eastern Orthodox Church. The Orthodox priests might make a face as if they were being forced to swallow a bitter pill, but they wouldn’t be able to stop Vlad if that was what he wanted. If the voivode insisted he needed to return to the fold so that people would follow him, the priests would have no choice but to go along with it. After all, he was Walachia’s greatest hero. No one would stand against him.
And yet, George also feared Vlad’s recklessness actions. Had this war looked to be in their favor or on even terms, he probably wouldn’t have sprung this trap.
The situation in Walachia was more precarious than he’d imagined.
Vlad looked up from the map and stared straight at George with a terrible smile.
“Whichever way this war goes, you’d best not betray me, George.”
“I would never.”
“Tell your father the same.”
“Yes, my liege.”
“I pray that your men never attack my camp.”
“Never. Such a thing is unthinkable.”
Just then, George felt a strange tingling down his neck and casually looked around.
They should have been alone in the room, but he’d suddenly sensed a presence and caught the scent given off by a person in a state of stress. Was there an armed guard waiting behind the thick curtains by the window, or inside one of the armoires against the wall, or in a hidden room next door?
The voivode could have arranged to have someone rush in to kill George if he acted suspiciously or went against Vlad’s commands. If he sold the information he’d learned here to the enemy, the Walachian army would be crushed overnight.
It was understandable that Vlad was suspicious, but it pained George that the man didn’t trust him, as George had had only ever spoken to him with sincerity. He knew that the voivode hadn’t been born so mistrusting, but that his paranoia was a result of being constantly surrounded by such awful political machinations. Yet even then, it troubled him.
A voivode should be more generous and open-minded.
He should be adored by his people and love them back. That was how a healthy government should truly work…
How deeply Vlad must have yearned for a respectable government like that.
Yet he would never see it happen.
Even if peace did come to this land, the voivode would die doubting all those around him. Still ardently believing that if he didn’t, he wouldn’t be able to protect the country or its people.
“Give your blood and your life for Walachia,” Vlad declared proudly. “That is the duty of you and your father. I will not permit you any other life but that.”
As soon as he returned home, George reported to his father.
Razvan sensed how terrified George was, having witnessed Vlad’s ferocity firsthand. “You should escape if you’re worried,” he said gently, consoling his son. “I’m already old. I’m not afraid to die protecting our lord. But you have so much of your life ahead of you. You wouldn’t want Elyne to become a widow and Matea to grow up without her father, would you?”
“I won’t run. I’ll fight beside you until the end. Elyne knows what it means to be the wife of a warrior.”
“This will be a tough battle. You understand that?”
“I do.”
“You can choose to survive and keep fighting for the restoration of our motherland. No matter what happens, don’t forget that. Remember my words in your time of need.”
Father and son shared a long embrace, then prayed to God for success in battle.
After saying goodbye to his father, George went to his bedroom and told his wife Elyne to get their daughter Matea and flee to Transylvania before the fighting with the Ottomans began.
Elyne told George that she wanted to stay. Even she could see that this battle was going to be incredibly hard-fought, but Elyne felt that if she was going to die, she wanted to die in her homeland with her husband.
George wouldn’t allow it. “You have to raise Matea,” he said. “That is how the blood of Walachia lives on. That is the best way for us to fight.”
Persuaded by her husband, Elyne reluctantly left Walachia. She went to stay with an old family friend of Razvan’s, Andrássy Csaba, and his wife Petra, aristocrats living in Transylvania. There, she and her daughter would be safely hidden.
The Csaba family gave them a warm welcome in Transylvania, and several days after recovering from the fatigue of the journey, Elyne entrusted Matea to the couple and set off for Walachia with a single attendant.
She couldn’t bear to abandon her husband.
The attendant Elyne took with her was a conjurer who’d been with her ever since her marriage to George. They had no name but told Elyne to call them Tutore—“protector” in the language of her homeland.
The conjurer hardly ever showed themself to anyone except Elyne. There was no doubt as to their existence in the world, however, having given Matea herbs to cure a fever during the long trip and prepared gifts to the Csaba family.
The conjurer appeared to Elyne as both male and female. They looked old at times, young at others, and had many different guises, from a frail old lady who was nothing but skin and bones like Baba Yaga, to a refined gentleman. They even took the form of a child to play with Matea. Though their appearance changed, the conjurer’s personality and mannerisms always stayed the same.
By the time the conjurer guided Elyne back to Walachia, Vlad’s army was already retreating.