Lord of the Vampires Read Free Page A

before I could draw my own sword. Perhaps the singular intent in my eyes frightened him; if so, he was wise to fear. He might have turned and hastened away to the south, returned to his beloved Basarab, and warned them of my escape to the northbut that action would have alerted me at once to treachery and bettered my chance of survival.
    So we continued apace over hard earth and rocks and dead crackling leaves until at last we reached the banks of a great lake, frozen solidly, its surface opaque grey-white dirtied by swirls of dark suspended flotsam. At its center stood the island fortress of Snagov, the spires of the Chapel of the Annunciation emerging from behind high walls at the waters very edge.
    I dismounted and unsheathed my swordwith a smile to ease Gregors growing trepidationand led my horse onto the ice. No need to draw your arms, I told my uncertain companion. Mine are sufficient to protect us. I nodded for him to precede me across the river to the great iron gate.
    In his eyes I saw once more the moment of decision: Should he smite me now, and return to Basarabs army a hero? Should he hope for an opportunity inside Snagovs walls, and venture forth upon the ice? (It was my right as sovereign to require that someone else test the ices strength.) Why had I drawn my sword? Was this merely another of the princes eccentricities, or had I deduced his deception?
    A flicker of fear again crossed his features. I was, after all, Dracula, the son of the Devil, the passionate fighter whose madness and boldness knew no limits. I had ridden at night into Mehmeds very camp and slaughtered a hundred sleeping Turks with the sword I now grasped. If he drew his weapon now and openly challenged me, would he be the survivor?
    With the softest of sighs he swung down from his horse and led the creature onto the frozen lake. So we made our way toward sanctuary, the horses hooves ringing hollowly against the ice, displacing small clouds of mist. At last we arrived at the great stone wall I had built during my reign, which had transformed the island monastic village into a more suitable fortress for guarding the treasure of the Wallachian realm. Ringing that wall were trees, their naked limbs clawing at the stones as if pleading for entry.
    A cry came from the watchtower as the sentinel spotted us; I cupped my hands round my mouth and called a reply which echoed off the stone. We moved toward the high wooden gate, studded with pales, and waited on the ice uneasily, I maneuvering myself so that I stood behind Gregor. The indecisiveness, the tension, the guilt, could easily be read from the cant of the mans shoulders. We stood without speaking and watched the first snowflakes sail silently down, stinging my cheeks like cold tears.
    At last the great gate creaked open on its rusting hinges and we were received by two armed guards, who immediately bowed low when they confirmed that their guest was, indeed, the Prince of Wallachia. I ordered one to take our horses to the stable and have food brought; the other I bade accompany us, ostensibly to build a fire. The three of us walked together on the ice-and-mud road past the high watchtower, the beautiful chapel, the great monastery, up towards the beautiful palace I had erected in better days. The thought evoked a flare of anger: Gregor did not deserve to set foot in this place built by the blood of loyal subjects, a sanctuary dear to my heart and which I would never again see after this night.
    But I held my temper and walked together with my traitor into the palaces private chamberswhich, being long unused, were so cold that our breaths still hung in the air as mist. I moved into my private dining-room, which looked onto a small cell with an Orthodox shrine to the Virgin Mary. The accompanying soldier, a strong young man, set at once to the task of building a fire.
    With a flourish, I removed my cape, belt, and sword, setting them all down on the floor near the hearthand the soldierand motioned