AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I approached my love, fearing I might witness something more painful than before. Gabriel crouched on the muggy ground, searching for something. The closer I got, the better I saw the shackles around his arms, legs, and neck. Vlad made sure he wouldn’t escape. But why keep him and not kill him?
Next, I saw Gabriel’s face. His eyes wandered in disarray. One moment he would start laughing uncontrollably. The next, he would whimper in his fists. The hunger must’ve sent him into a frenzy. I swooshed through the jail bars and kneeled next to him. I bend over him, trying to take away some of the pain. I knew it wasn’t possible. He had to get through it himself. I touched his back and immediately felt it––his extreme desire to die. It would’ve been so easy to do it now when he was at his weakest. One stake to the heart and the agony would end. He knew it. I knew it. But one thing held him. A thin thread of hope. Me.
A wave of guilt engulfed me. How could I cope with the remorse when I was the reason for his utter suffering? Was love worth it? Was I worth it?
“You are worth it,” whispered Gabriel.
I froze in shock. Was he able to see me? “Gabriel?”
“My love for you is stronger than thousands of days spent in agony. Death happens only once, but our love is eternal.”
At the sound of his words, I broke. My heart lay in shambles. I cried and mourned the tragedy he had to live for so long. I shed tears until I had none left.
“Gabriel?” a male voice resounded. “You’re still alive?” A dark figure appeared in front of the bars. Only a sliver of light coming from the tiny window revealed the face of the mysterious man. It was Stan, looking the same as always, except for the armor he wore. Vlad must’ve promoted him from gatekeeper to a knight.
“I brought you a loaf of bread. You need to eat, my friend,” Stan said as he placed a bowl next to the bars.
“How many times must I tell you? I cannot eat bread. Blood…” His voice strained to produce sound.
“Before arguing, come closer and see what I brought.” Stan stood.
Gabriel crawled to the bowl and discovered the bloody remains of a pig. He shoved the piece in his mouth straight away.
“I knew you’d like it,” Stan said.
“More…I need more,” Gabriel growled, licking every ounce of blood from his fingers.
“You’ll have to wait. His Majesty ordered his best men to join the coup. We’ll be out for a few weeks.”
“A coup? Against whom?”
“The Sultan. Hear this. His Majesty plans on attacking the Turkish camp at night and kill the Sultan. Then the war will be done, and we can live another day.”
“This is madness. I told His Majesty I could help him. I only need blood. The Turks have enough of it.” Gabriel grabbed the bars.
“You know how His Majesty is. He’ll never accept help from unnatural beings. It is a battle he plans on winning with his own efforts.”
“Madness, I tell you. Madness.” Gabriel clutched the bars.
Gabriel wasn’t wrong. Given the history, Vlad the Impaler’s attempt to circumvent Sultan Mehmed’s onslaught by murdering him in his tent ended in failure. Unfortunately, Gabriel from the past, still had to find out about it. Instead of the Sultan, Vlad would kill one of his higher-ups. Forced to retreat in the woods, Vlad would make one last effort to terrify the Sultan and convince him and his army to renounce the attack.
Next to the gates of the castle, the Sultan would witness one of the most famous and cruelest scenes in history: The Forest of the Impaled. A forest of twenty thousand stakes with carcasses of Turks and other enemies. Because of this very act, Vlad III earned his name, the Impaler. Afterward, horror stories stormed Europe about Vlad eating his victims as he watched others perish on the stakes. Most of the gossip was spread from the mouths of his enemies living in Hungary and Transylvania. But the damage remained a clause in history attached to his name. Eventually, those rumors would make him a prisoner of the Hungarian king. Though after his liberation, Vlad attempted a third ruling over Wallachia, it tragically ended with his murder. It was planned and carried out by the nobles and boyars of similar status as the ones he executed several years earlier.
Gabriel’s wish to help Vlad and the small army of brave Wallachians fighting an army ten times larger was honorable. But from what I presumed, Vlad the Impaler’s fate had been sealed already. Whatever Gabriel yearned to change at that moment was in vain. History had to take its course. But he would soon find out on his own.
“I’ll see you later, my friend. We’re off to accomplish great deeds. They’ll sing hymns in our honor,” said Stan and left.
A fog arose and covered the scene completely. The next thing I saw was Gabriel. With his nostrils flared, he banged on the bars and yelled to be let out. Even I could sense something wasn’t right. Shortly after the outburst, Gabriel collapsed on the floor, weak from emaciation and exhaustion. Once more, Stan appeared before him. But he didn’t look like the same gleeful, hopeful man I saw earlier. His armor was stabbed in places, and his face was covered in a mix of dirt and blood. The plan to kill the Sultan failed. I could see it in Stan’s distraught eyes.
“The blood, Stan…” whispered Gabriel as he lay lifeless on the ground.
“The Turks are coming,” said Stan. “We need your help to mount the corpses on the stakes.”
“Blood…”
“You need blood, my friend. Here,” Stan said and ripped a sleeve and slashed his wrist.
But Gabriel looked more like he was on his last breath than willing to finally eat.
