'Well, welcome back, I suppose...' Olrox looked down at his double as Simu spoke agitatedly with a messenger. Olrox caught the conversation in the middle of Simu's sentence.

"...is HE doing here?"

The messenger squirmed uncomfortably, not realizing that it was a rhetorical question. "I...don't know, Sir Olrox. Shall we..." the man made a gesture with his hand, "take care of them?"

Simu waved a hand. "That would be unnecessary and monumentally foolish. Just..." he sighed, "Just send him in. I'll find out what he's up to." The messenger bowed and left the room. Simu fell into a chair, running a hand through his hair to untangle it and settle his nerves. 'Of all the emissaries of the sultan, I have to talk to this vile creature...'

Simu didn't bother to rise as his visitor was shown in without an announcement. Glowering up at the man, Simu could see the family resemblance. Wide eyes framed by long lashes, curling black hair, aquiline features, just like Vlad's. But where Vlad was sturdily built, his younger brother was slender, taller. Radu the Handsome, general of Sultan Mehmed, crossed the room and bowed gracefully, removing his turban with flourish.

"Sir Olrox, your praises are sung throughout this countryside; it is an honor to finally meet you," he said, his voice silky and dripping with honey.

Simu wasn't impressed. He'd heard flattery before. "Aren't you supposed to touch your forehead to the floor as well?" he replied, and Radu's face fell, just for an instant. "Sit," Simu said flatly.

Radu grinned and complied. From the chair opposite Simu, he studied the other discreetly from under his lashes. For his part, Simu did much the same, trying to guess at what the youngest Dracula would try to say. Radu didn't act like any Turk Simu had met before, probably because he wasn't one; he was...courtly. 'No,unctuous. I mustn't let my guard down.'

"Now, what business do you have here, General?"

"Surely, no one could say that you are a cruel or inhumane man, Sir Olrox. And to serve my brother for so many years without harm must take a great deal of wisdom..."

"Come to the point," Simu snapped.

Radu raised one eyebrow, the impish grin never wavering. "Faith, my lord, you are impatient. Do you treat all your guests with such rudeness?"

Simu quelled the sudden urge to snatch up a fire iron and beat the insolent traitor with it repeatedly. "You are no guest here; my time is not yours to waste."

The young general shrugged, pausing to collect his thoughts. Simu could see that he was being scrutinized with no small amount of irritation. 'Ah, so I am not so weak as you thought me?' Then, Radu seemed to find his voice. His demeanor became more somber in moments.

"Being my brother's second in command, I trust you were at the capital?" His tone was explanation enough for the statement.

Simu hesitated, then nodded. "Yes. Yes, I was there." He hadn't intended his voice to shake so.

Leaning forward in his chair, Radu spoke again. "Then you saw," he said, "what we all saw." Once again, Simu nodded, not trusting his voice. "I have known Vlad longer than anyone living," said Radu, "but even I...even I never suspected him capable of such an abomination as that field." He leaned back and closed his eyes with a despairing sigh. "In coming here, I have heard stories. I realize that stories are not to be wholly trusted, but there is a grain of truth in every lie. They say that there was a golden chalice, a very fine one, set up beside one of the wells near to the capital for several years, do you know of it?"

"I have not heard of this chalice of yours," Simu replied warily. 'There must be some reason for these ramblings...'

Radu waved a hand dismissively. "It is no matter. This chalice, the man who told the tale to me said that it had set on the edge of the well for several years, and that in all the years it was there, no one, however desperate they might have been, dared to steal it."

"It is certainly an embellishment," consented Simu, "though it is true that crimes are severely punished in these lands."

Radu glared, sending an icy chill up its recipient's spine. "I hardly think death by impalement a fitting punishment for petty thievery, do you?"

Simu was fast becoming very uncomfortable with the direction the conversation had taken. He fought to steady his voice, speaking in a level, measured tone at last. "Come to your point, domnule."

Much to Simu's surprise, Radu actually knelt at the side of the knight's chair, taking one of Simu's hands in both his own. "You know what I would ask of you," the general whispered, smothering his voice so that none listening at the door might hear. Simu paled by degrees as Radu went on. "Sultan Mehmed would shelter your family, of course. They would be safe as the very stars in the sky." Simu felt tears prick at his eyes, but by a tremendous feat of will they remained unshed. Radu continued, though his captive audience was only half-listening. "Our homeland is being ravaged by famine and suffering because of this war. It is pointless; the empire will win eventually. Why not have it done with, quickly, and save our people sooner? With you at Mehmed's side, my brother could be swiftly deposed, and you will have lifted from this country a yolk of terror and death!"

Simu gazed incredulously at the bold general, who seemed so certain that Simu would agree and betray his prince without a second thought. 'He is a fool. I could kill him for his words. Why did I fear him?' And yet, the young Dracula's words still twisted and wormed their way through Simu's mind. Was Vlad truly a tyrant? Was he so savage? Doubt gnawing at his heart. His memory went back to the field on that day. Before his mind's eye were too many faces to count, all of them twisted into horrible masks of anguish, glassy eyes dumbly staring at the victims around them. Simu remembered the piercing screams of the dying, and even worse were the occasional low, despairing wails that made his skin crawl. 'None deserve that death... No! He is only exploiting a weakness. I will not be duped so quickly by this traitor.'

"I cannot. You know this. Even if I were to agree, and follow the sultan, Wallachia would not suffer to be ruled by Turks."

Radu's voice softened, cajoling, nearly a purr. "And why would the Wallachians be ruled by a Turk, when one of their own will be high in Mehmed's favor?" Simu shivered as Radu turned over the knight's hand and kissed the palm with rather more familiarity than etiquette allowed. Radu seemed to enjoy the slight blush he'd caused immensely, and kept speaking. The tones had a hypnotic quality now to Simu's confused mind, caught off guard by an entirely unexpected action.

"It is you, Simu, who has held your country together all these dreary, long years. Your people, our people, love you as much as they fear my brother. Why dwell forever in the shadow of a madman?"

Simu started out of what could only have been described as a trance. He'd felt breath on his face, focusing his eyes and finding Radu's face alarmingly near to his own, so close in fact that their noses touched. "Please reconsider," the young general whispered, lifting a hand and tracing his finger down Simu's jawbone.

Simu panicked.

Standing so abruptly that Radu was actually thrown off balance and knocked onto his backside, Simu looked down at the Dracula for a single moment before panic was replaced by rage. With unusual strength, Simu grabbed a fistful of cloth from Radu's collar, half-lifting the taller man. "If you ever touch me like that again," Simu growled, "I'll have you quartered and sent back to your sultan in pieces!"

Radu met Simu's hard glare evenly, his face betraying no emotion other than a bit of surprise at the sudden outburst. "I have no doubt that you would," he said, without a trace of humor. Simu regained control over himself and dropped Radu back to the floor. He gazed down at the ambassador, who didn't bother to stand, before turning away and crossing the small room to look out the window. The sun was just setting, the last deep orange rays bathing the countryside in a warm, tired glow. 'Have we been speaking this long?'

Olrox's attention shifted back to Radu, still sulking on the floor, his face all but hidden entirely by his black hair. Olrox could still see one cunning green eye flashing as Radu glanced about the room. 'He's thinking,' Olrox mused, somehow moving closer to the floor. Radu's mouth was set in a hard line, thin lips pressed together. 'He's angry, too. He must be used to having his own way.' Suddenly, the visible eye glinted, the mouth twitched upward slightly before breaking into a sardonic smirk.

"You are indeed very loyal to my brother. I'm having more difficulty persuading you than I'd thought," Radu put emphasis on his next words, "But how loyal, do you suppose, is Vlad to you?"

Simu continued to stare out the window. "I don't know what you're talking about, poponar."

The younger man clicked his tongue reproachfully. "There's no need to be childish. I only asked a question. You, Sir Olrox, are willing to kill, and die, for this man," he cocked his head to one side a bit, as though he couldn't fathom such a notion, "Would he do the same for you?"

This time, Simu did face his questioner, tossing the question back to its author. "Would Mehmed act so toward you?"

"I will die for no one; Mehmed knows and understands this. I would not ask of him what I wouldn't do myself," Radu replied calmly. "You have not answered me."

"Nor will I," Simu snapped. He went back to watching the changing light, trying to make sense of Radu's meandering questions and wheedling words. 'He hasn't spoken to Vlad in years; he doesn't know his brother as well as he claims. Besides, the leader of a people can't throw his life away on account of one other...' A soft voice stirred him from his thoughts, as Radu found yet another argument.

"He will become paranoid, you know. If he begins to feel threatened, he will find a reason for it, or invent one if no reason exists. I know this from experience."

Simu shook his head. "It's been a long time since you've so much as looked upon him; you were children when you parted ways."

"And the man is no different from the boy, it seems to me. That field and the fear pervading this land prove it." He paused, letting his words sink in. Then, very softly, he went on, his eyes glittering in triumph. "What if he begins to mistrust you?"

That remark sent a little shudder through Simu's heart, calling to mind Vlad's hot-blooded threat two weeks ago. "I've given my prince no reason to doubt me," he said a little too quickly.

Olrox could have sworn that Radu had to fight down laughter as he answered, taking on the smooth tones he'd used when he'd first entered the room. "Oh? Are you sure? You've spoken to me, that is enough to warrant suspicion. Or punishment." Radu smiled broadly. "Fraternizing with the enemy is a very serious thing for a high-ranking officer to be caught up in."

Simu wished he were wearing his sword. He spun, endeavoring to keep himself from shouting. "I sincerely hope you're not threatening me in my own fortress, domnule!"

Radu made a placating gesture. "I do not threaten. I only warn." Simu glared and turned back to the window.

"Perhaps it is time for you to leave."

Radu ignored this. "What might he do to you if he found out about our little conference? He will, you know. My visit will surely be a topic of discussion among your men for some time. And Vlad is very quick to jump to conclusions," he pushed. Simu made a point of not paying attention. Radu twirled a lock of hair as he kept speaking. "What would he do? Of course, he'd kill you, but he could go about it many ways. There is the obvious impalement. I can see he's very skilled at that; he makes sure death takes days." He saw Simu visibly shiver, and stood slowly. "But I'm certain he could come up with other reprimands for a former friend. If he thought you earned it, and he will, he wouldn't hesitate to rip out your eyes, mutilate you, skin you...bury you alive, maybe?" It was Radu's turn to sound unsteady as he said the last words.

Simu glanced over his shoulder; Radu's face was entirely serious, deadpan. "Do you think," Simu said, "I don't know what he could do? You forget that I need not rely on rumor to know of these things."

"Then put a stop to it."

"It isn't that simple. My leaving will only complicate matters."

The ambassador of the sultan looked at the floor for a short time, not raising his eyes again. "What of your family, Sir Olrox, if you should incur Vlad's wrath?"

"Stop," Simu growled softly.

Radu only raised his voice. "Would they share your fate, your wife and your little daughters? Women and children were certainly not absent from that forest of the impaled. He will be merciless." Radu could see that he had gone too far before he'd even finished speaking. Cold hatred radiated from Simu's eyes and voice.

"You snake," he hissed, "Dishonorable, simpering liar! Leave, before I kill you!"

Radu seemed to quiver with pent-up anger and frustration as he rewound his turban, his purpose failed. "Sultan Mehmed will be very displeased," he stammered.

Glaring still, Simu moved to the door, unlatching it as Radu reached it. "Yes, I'm sure he will. You had best run and tell him of my refusal. Besides," he added with unmasked contempt, "the sultan must miss his favorite whore by now."

Radu froze in his tracks, staring open-mouthed at Simu in an unusual mix of shock and the rage that accompanies sorely hurt pride. He found his voice in an instant. "I was foolish to think you were any better than my brother. I hope he kills you," he spat.

"Du-te dracului, domnule," Simu spat right back. He then held the door open, bowing with great flourish. Radu shot a truly dangerous glare his way before reassuming a mask of nonchalance and gliding out the door without a look back.

Closing the door, Simu slumped against it, the long tenseness of his mind seeming to take physical toll as well. Tears slid down his face and he sighed wearily. His exhausted mind still repeated the mantra it had adopted from his first sight of the young Dracula, 'He lies, he lies, he lies, he lies...And if he doesn't?' If Radu was in the right, Simu was damned. 'But he isn't. He can't be...' The last dying rays of the setting sun poured through the window, bathing everything in red light. Simu looked at his hands as they replaced the latch on the door. 'Bloodstained...'



Olrox woke with an echo of his double's former shiver. 'What does it all mean?' He wasn't in a particularly pensive mood, however, so he stored the memory of the dream away for later and turned his thoughts to a body that was most assuredly making itself known. He was sore from head to foot, especially his head; he'd never felt it ache so. He was also filthy and half-naked, something that irritated him quite a bit.

Gingerly, he eased himself to a sitting position. The instant his feet hit the floor, an abrupt, sharp pain flowed up his leg. He cried out, the leg failed him, and Olrox found himself facedown on the floor. 'God, what now?' Very slowly and carefully, he turned over and sat up, looking at the offending appendage. A deep black bruise stretched from his right ankle all the way up to the knee, highlighting the smaller shinbone. 'Broken...' A spark of anger flared in him. "Fuck!" he shouted impulsively, feeling strangely relieved.

Not long after that, Olrox heard the distinctive 'tip-tap' of a skeleton approaching. The worthy creature soon appeared in the flesh (figuratively), with what seemed to be a shocked expression. "Merciful heavens! I suppose you're awake already, Master Olrox. Goodness, but that was loud!" Had his leg not been distracting him, Olrox probably would have found something surreally amusing in being scolded for foul language by a skeleton. He heard he her make a disapproving clicking noise as she drew closer. Olrox didn't panic as he had during his first encounter with such a monster, having come to the realization that he wasn't very much better.

"You put weight on it, didn't you?" the skeleton clucked. "You silly thing! Not even you can mend a break in fifteen minutes, Master." She turned to leave again. "You just wait here and don't move."

"Why?" Olrox croaked, his throat hoarse.

The skeleton answered patiently, "So I can find help lifting you, Master. I'm not strong enough to get you back into bed by myself." Olrox nodded dumbly, letting the maid go. Alone again, he sat in a daze. His whole body was terribly sore, to the point of making him gasp with every attempt at movement. 'Why did he explode like that?' Olrox had never been beaten before; he had trouble getting his mind around it. Sure, he had fought with his father often, sometimes it had come to blows. But they were fair blows, and Elie never purposely tried to harm any of his sons. The battering he'd sustained from Vlad had been entirely different. Olrox hadn't been able to defend himself, and Vlad had hit to injure, as the ugly bruises marching their way over Olrox's vaguely darkened skin testified. Dried blood still clung to his ears and matted his hair. And hadn't it been only two nights ago when Vlad had assured Olrox that he was treasured over every other being in the older vampire's heart? 'Why, then?'

Olrox was sunk in these gloomy reflections when the 'tip-tap' of bones sounded in the other room, along with another, quieter pair. And voices.

"What, so I carried him to his rooms and now I'm his nurse?" complained a man's voice in French.

"I didn't know who else to ask, Master," answered the skeleton.

Olrox didn't bother looking up to greet the visitor. So wrapped up in his own thoughts was he, in fact, that it wasn't until he felt arms around his aching chest that he was pulled back into reality.

"Au!" Olrox yelped before he could stop himself.

"Sorry! Sorry, but I have to get hold of you somehow," the voice soothed. Trying again, with Olrox helping with his good leg, the helper managed to get the vampire off the floor and back onto the bed. Olrox arranged his limbs in such a way as caused the least discomfort.

"You know, you're as heavy as you look, Olrox-sama."

Recognizing the voice at last, Olrox turned to get a proper look at his 'rescuer.' "Thank you, Torio."

The tengu smiled amiably. "It's no trouble, Olrox-sama."

"It's just 'Olrox,' actually."

"That's what I said, wasn't it?"

And so began another lengthy conversation. Olrox was glad for the diversion Torio's company offered from his aches, and more importantly, from his own dismal musings.

"How is your territory faring while you're here entertaining me?" Olrox asked after some time had passed. The tengu paused, as though extremely confused by the question.

"Oh," he said, "the birds take care of things when I'm gone, generally. They're very bright," Torio added proudly.

"Birds?"

"Well, yes. Ravens and crows, mostly. I'm a bird spirit, after all."

"Ah."

And so hours passed, and the dream, with all the questions it raised, was pushed to the back of Olrox's mind. Torio didn't leave until near dawn, saying that he for one needed to get a bit of sleep or he'd be a wreck later on. Olrox agreed with this sentiment as the sun peeked over the horizon, shedding no light into the closed bedchamber. It lost none of its potency, however, gently but firmly pulling Olrox down into sleep.







Jeez! I just can't write this month. This chapter took FOREVER! And it still isn't very good, but it's not going to get much better. I'm going to try picking up the pace a bit so I can get to the Rondo of Blood time-thingy. Okay, the Romanian was pretty easy this time, I thought.
Du-te dracului-- go to hell (not too hard to infer, right?)
Au-- duh. 'Ouch.'
I kinda like Radu. He reminds me of an oily used-car salesman, in a way. Yes, he's involved with the sultan. Don't hurt me; it's historically accurate. Besides, it just makes him more...I don't know, but it definitely makes him more something.

Simu: What is your weird obsession with my hand?

Radu: It's a nice hand. ;3

Simu: *muttering* Why don't you marry it, then?

Radu: Careful, I might take you up on that.

Simu: Get. Away.

Ha! They're fun, aren't they? *huggles Simu and Radu* I just wuv my cute little prude and my icky little bishie! Whoo! I need sleep.