I am so, terribly, sorry that it has taken this long to update. This whole last month has just been too crazy for me. I hope you haven't given up on me yet and that you still enjoy this story.

Thank you for those who reviewed: Mike, Miss Kapri, Tsuki Tamahoshi, Irena, quickyfant, Fleatcher and Lord Makura.

Disclaimers: see previous chapters.

CHAPTER 15: THE TRUE ENEMY

A forest near Bucharest, 1476

It was not supposed to be like this…

Vlad III Dracula looked around himself and saw nothing but death and destruction. All his men, his armies, his people…gone. Slaughtered. The ground was covered by their blood.

How did it turn out like this…? Everything had been going so well…

After the nightly visit of a strange vampire woman in 1472, Vlad had put all his effort in reclaiming his throne. He started to repeat his actions from the time he had been under the Sultan's power: he never openly admitted defeat, only let them believe they had won. He bowed his head, spoke respectfully while imagining his hands on their throats and said what they wanted to hear. After a little over a year, Vlad had won majority of Hungarian nobility on his side.

The ones still not trusting him were King Matthias Corvinus and General Istvan Bathory. Bathory's reasons were purely personal. He had not liked Vlad during their years in Scholomance and he did not like Vlad now. Matthias did not truly have an opinion of Vlad as a person, he rarely thought of anyone as a person. To him everyone was pawns he could use in his game. Ten years ago then it had been best to imprison Vlad and calm the Turkish rulers, but he had predicted Vlad might come handy again and Matthias had kept him alive. Now the time had come.

The new ruler of Wallachia, Radu, was too friendly towards the Turks for Matthias liking. He paid them taxes, let them right to his doorsteps, and probably even worshipped their Gods. Putting Radu as ruler had calmed the Sultan for some time, but it was obviously going to backfire against Matthias sooner or later. Matthias was forced to acknowledge that an impaling Vlad might be better than imprisoned Vlad.

Still…he had to be sure that Vlad would not turn against them. In 1474, Vlad and Matthias agreed that Vlad would be freed should he marry a cousin of Matthias; widow Countess Ilona Szilágy and become father to her two sons, both about ten years old. Vlad found Countess Ilona to be extremely boring and lifeless woman, a complete opposite of Isabel. Countess was a mediocre woman at best and her sons obviously feared Vlad. Not that he would have been too fond of them either. He treated them more like his soldiers than his sons.

His own son Mihnea was now 15. He had become a fine looking young man who was in favour of both nobility and ladies. Vlad remembered fondly of his days with Stefan in Moldavia, when he too was allowed to be young and reckless. Mihnea was living now a kind of time he would never later be able to have again. Vlad envied his boy. And was furious when he learned that Mihnea had grown up these ten years believing his mother committed suicide.

Despite all this, Vlad had to admit he was rather pleased with his efforts. He was no longer imprisoned, was living again amongst Hungarian nobility and even had a new title: Count Dracula. Now he only needed to wait for his chance to come.

It came in 1475, when his brother Radu died. Vlad shed no tears, but he did have a wicked grin on his face when he learned what had killed Radu. Syphilis.

I hope he thought of the family he betrayed during his moments of pain.

Not surprisingly soon after Matthias used this opportunity to put Vlad back to the throne of Wallachia. The people of Wallachia welcomed him with open arms. Radu's reign had put them under the Turkish forces and they trusted that Vlad Dracula would once again impale all Turks out of their countries.

And that was exactly what Vlad had in his mind. After reclaiming the throne his first priority was to purify his country. All those who had supported Radu and the Turks would have to go or die. Preferably the latter. Needless to say, blood was soon again running in the land of Wallachia. Vlad hunted most of Radu's family members, except for one of his daughters, who had married Vlad's old friend Stefan of Moldavia.

Vlad Tepes was back. The impaled bodies soon decorated the streets, fields and borders once again. And as expected, the Turks did not take the news warmly. The Sultan sent his army once again to invade Wallachia, this time vowing to do what should have been done over ten years ago then.

Vlad had prepared for another battle and already made a deal with Matthias Corvinus to have the support of Hungary. As ordered by his king, Istvan Bathory brought the Hungarian army to join Vlad and Wallachia in their battle, thus creating an army of over 30 000 men. Vlad had suited himself with Wallachian armour and a huge red cape, since Isabel had once told him red would suit him. He rode with his horse, leading his men to yet another battle, the kind of where blood of the Turks would be spilled.

And spill it had. Vlad had fought like the devil himself. He killed, butchered, impaled and enjoyed every little moment of it. Vlad truly felt like he was the sword of God, striking down punishment to the heretics and infidels. Each time when his old cross would hit against his chest piece, it felt like God was telling him he was not alone.

So why did this happen?

The battle was over. And he had lost.

His cape was torn, his armour in pieces, his horse slaughtered. Arrows had been shot to both of his knees so he was unable to even stand up.

Vlad looked around. He didn't see the impaled bodies of the Turks. He saw the impaled bodies of his own men. Turks had decided to pay him back, it seemed. However, Vlad noticed, he could only see Wallachian armours. Not a single Hungarian.

Istvan Bathory…the bastard betrayed me…

Two Turks were by his side. They roughly pulled him as up as he could go and then dragged him across the battle field. The field that was covered by the blood of his army, blood of his men. Thousands of them had spilled their blood on this ground.

Vlad saw where he was being dragged. Turkish soldiers had gathered around one man, who was holding an executioner's axe in his hand.

It…truly is over, he realised, I have lost.

Angrily, feeling rage bubbling inside of him, Vlad raised his head up.

"How can you let this happen?" he asked with a voice so low that the Turks were unable to hear it. "I fought for you! I told that…that unholy creature that I could win with your help. I have fought against infidels, against wrong religion! Against your enemies!"

The Turks started shouting when they saw him being dragged. Vlad looked at his men's impaled corpses.

"These men fought for you also. I sacrificed them all for your sake! Why did you allow it to be in vain? Why have you abounded us? Why have you abounded me?"

The men around him just kept shouting. Although Vlad could understand Turkish he was not paying attention.

"You have allowed my enemy to grow so huge. So huge that I am too insignificant to defeat it. Why? Do you not care? Is that it? You truly do not care?"

What was it that Isabel had said to him when he had for the first time left to battle against the Turks?

You will put your hope into your country…

"My country is gone. Radu destroyed it and I can no longer return to repair it".

…in me…

"But…but you're gone too. You left. The arrow took you. And they say you killed yourself".

…and in God.

"In God? God has forsaken me! God has betrayed me! He did not care when I lost my childhood to the Sultan! He did not care when I lost you! And he does not care now! God is my true enemy!"

The Turks pushed him down. The one with an axe walked right next to Vlad and started raising the heavy object to the air. People around him kept shouting to him. Time seemed to slow down.

"God…you have betrayed me and condemned me. Me who has battled for you for my whole life. I have sacrificed everything for your glory, for the New Jerusalem. But you do not care. You are selfish and cruel and I will fight for you no more. From here on, you are my only enemy and I shall fight against you with the forces you have damned".

Axe was above now. Vlad looked down at the ground that was covered in blood. In the blood of his men who had died in vain. Blood of thousands of men. Vlad opened his mouth, damped his tongue in the blood and swallowed.

The cross, the one he had worn around his neck for nearly his whole life, shattered to pieces.

The axe came down.

--

Snagov monastery, a few months later

Father Sandor was not a young man anymore. He was nearly sixty years old and he had done nothing in his life that would earn him a place in the books of history. He had lived relatively quiet life, most of the time being afraid if enemies of Vlad would aim to take his life. But apparently neither Danestis nor Turks had considered him important enough.

During Vlad's main reign Sandor had often been afraid for Vlad's soul, feeling that the numerous deaths, no matter how justified, would surely damn him forever. However, after the decade under the rule of Radu and his Turkish friends, Sandor had been relieved to hear of Vlad's return. But the joy had been short lived. Vlad had been killed in a battle against the Turks. He had been beheaded and his head, what Sandor had heard, had been taken to Adrianopole for the Sultan. Rest of his body was buried here in Snagov, where Sandor also lived his days now.

Sandor had nothing to complain about his life now. He got eaten, had books to read, manuscripts to translate and was safely away from the eyes of the rulers. Safely away from dangers. Still, he did miss the old days. Vlad was dead. Isabel was dead. Mihnea was still in Hungary, God alone knows if he'd ever get a chance to claim his father's throne.

Sandor's musings were interrupted by sudden and out-of-place noises, that he heard coming from the crypt. Since Sandor's quarters were closest to the crypt, he was the only one to hear them. For a moment he considered waking one of the monks to help him investigate this noise, but thinking more logically it might only be an animal that had gotten inside, he did not bother. Instead, Father Sandor went to investigate alone.

As Sandor came closer to the crypt, he was filled with a sudden, uneasy feeling. Almost like a dread that something horrible was about to happen. He was startled, to say the least, when he realised that he had felt like this once before: forty or so years ago then when Vlad had born. To feel the same feeling now, when he was so near of Vlad's final resting place, almost made Sandor turn back.

Embracing himself, Sandor peeked inside from the door. To his surprise he found not a single animal or person in the crypt.

Vlad's tomb however was open.

Feeling his insides turn cold, Sandor ran to the grave, praying that what he suspected had happened had not happened. He looked inside the grave, only to find it empty.

"Oh God…" he whispered.

"God?"

Sandor turned around and nearly screamed. Vlad was standing there in front of him. He had his head back, but the skin was rotten and scarred, and his eyes were red. Before Sandor could react Vlad had pulled a sword, seemingly out of nowhere, and plunged it right through Sandor, impaling him to the crypt's wall.

"No God" Vlad said with a hissing, unearthly voice.

Sandor felt how his blood was leaving him, gathering as a pool in front of him. The walking corpse of Vlad moved, somewhat unsteadily, beside Sandor with a goblet in his hand. He put the goblet right to where sword met Sandor's flesh and let it be filled with blood. And then he raised it to his lips and drank.

Gasping, desperately holding for his life, Sandor watched as a satanic transformation happened in front of him. As Vlad drank the blood, his flesh started to heal, until there were no signs of rotting to be seen. Not only that, but Vlad also seemed younger, years younger than he had been when dying. He dropped the goblet to the floor and smiled a devilish smile.

"Vlad…?" Sandor weakly managed to say.

Vlad looked at this man, who had been his mentor and confidant, with an almost amused look. Then he said three simple words.

"I am Dracula".

With that he turned around and walked to the doors of the crypt. Sandor barely noticed that outside were other figures with burning red eyes, waiting for him. Then they all disappeared.

Father Sandor's body was found the following morning.

To be continued…

So, this is what, end of act 1? End of Vlad's life certainly. Now it's Dracula's time.

The line Vlad says there in the end "God? No God" is from the movie 30 Days of Night.

The events in this chapter are mostly inspired by true events, but with artistic liberty. For example, I don't know if Vlad and Istvan Bathory actually hated each others, but in my story they do.

So, till next time and remember to review! Again, very sorry for the late update.