Old King Vlad II Dracul sat on his throne, his brows creased with worry. His sons went missing from their bed chambers the night before, and he'd had his men search the entire Fortress and the villages around but found no sign of them. Many of his enemies dwell within the walls of Wallachia and he was not oblivious to this fact. Whoever commited this crime was someone close to him, someone close to his kids.
Silence prevailed in the throne room, and no one dared speak out of turn. It was broken by the appearance of a shadow that emerged from the footsteps leading up to Vlad II Dracul. It was a caped man, feathers studded to his dark robe and holding a staff with the curved figure of a crow on top.
"You have no need to worry about your sons, King Vlad." The figure said, his voice was devoid of any respect to the principality of Wallachia or it's Voivode.
As one would expect, this tone was met with rebellion from the seated members of the court, Wallachia's Royal Advisors, Ministers and its military generals, all of whom expressed their anger and concern at the appearance of an unwelcomed entity.
Vlad looked up at the intruder with eyes filled with coldness and rage. He made a gesture to silence the court behind the intruder, and at once, the court became silenced. As brutal as his reign had been, people feared the man's tyranny and his wrath and dared not disobey him up front. "Tell me about my sons." He was not questioning. He demanded answers, such was the way of the lord.
"They are within the fortress, Vlad. Safe. For now. And their safety depends on you!" The stranger smiled as he removed the hood from his head, revealing blue hair and red eyes. Eyes that knew no fear. These were eyes that would dare have Wallachia at the tips of his finger.
"What do you want?" Asked Vlad, his tone softening. He was a wise king, and realized this stranger was in no way simple. To act against him would be calling forth the wrath of god themselves.
"Let's talk in private," The blue haired stranger suggested as he turned around and started walking down the steps, towards the marbled floors.
"Leave us!" Vlad II Dracul raised his voice in address to his court. The doors were opened and all its officials left the throne room on short notice. They didn't like it, but the King in distress only wanted his sons back. They are all he had after the passing of their mother, heir apparent to the House of Basarab and he would not see the Kingdom pass to his brother or their children.
"Good. We can talk," The stranger spoke as the last of the court left the room and the guards shut the doors behind them.
"Then talk," The impatient old king was eager to listen to the stranger's proposal in return for his sons, who he claimed were still somewhere in the castle.
"As you know Vlad, the Byzantine Empire in the east wants to expand and Venezia stands in direct opposition to this initiative. With Wallachia's alliance they may be able to stop and repel invasive armies by mounting a two front offensive. This is something the Byzentines don't want happening, and I have been dispatched to negotiate a treaty, and until your loyalty to the Empire is guaranteed, I intend to keep your sons hostage."
The old king finally understood. Politics. Wallachia had been on friendly terms with its neighbors Hungary, Bulgaria, Moldovia and Croatia for well over a decade. Attacking Wallachia itself wasn't so easy. On the other hand, everyone wanted Venezia, but the Venezians controlled a majority of commerce in the region and had the resources to hold its own, making it difficult for anyone to make a move against them, that is if they did not want to have to deal with trecherous trade routes and seizure of supply lines.
"And what do I get in return for this alliance with the Byzantines?" The Old King was not stupid. His sons were merely a leverage, but to play this game without anything to gain from it was to expend resources and coming out the sore loser. He would not have it.
This, the stranger understood as well. "I've heard Venezia charges a 50% tax from their ports. I have the authority to negotiate a 35% cut from what you pay Venezia."
"What my people pay," The Old King laughed. He was making it too easy.
"So you disagree, then," The stranger smiled.
"Not all all. But to turn a blinds eye to your march west requires an adequate compensation to match, one that would allow me to answer my neighbors when they ask why." And no doubt, every major power in the region would want to know why Vlad II Dracul turned a blinds eye on its allies. Action without probable cause left it open for dangers to threaten the kingdom itself.
The Stranger fell silent, perhaps not understanding the Old King's words.
"If a faction of Venezian troops were to attack Wallachia and destroy a village or two, I will be forced to break all ties with them." The Old King smiled.
The Stranger smiled. Truly, as the rumors said, Vlad II Dracul was a dangerous man, not hesitating to throw away the lives of his people. Still. The Stranger did not come here to discuss morality. His task was to dictate terms of agreement with the Byzantine moving west, and opening the doorway into Africa and Europe. "It will be done, and when that happens, your sons will be returned to you..." And with that, the cloaked man simply sank down into the marble floor and disappeared without a trace.
Vlad sat back down on his throne. His 16 year old son Vlad and 10 year old Radu, he hoped no harm would come to either of them.
Silence prevailed in the throne room, and no one dared speak out of turn. It was broken by the appearance of a shadow that emerged from the footsteps leading up to Vlad II Dracul. It was a caped man, feathers studded to his dark robe and holding a staff with the curved figure of a crow on top.
"You have no need to worry about your sons, King Vlad." The figure said, his voice was devoid of any respect to the principality of Wallachia or it's Voivode.
As one would expect, this tone was met with rebellion from the seated members of the court, Wallachia's Royal Advisors, Ministers and its military generals, all of whom expressed their anger and concern at the appearance of an unwelcomed entity.
Vlad looked up at the intruder with eyes filled with coldness and rage. He made a gesture to silence the court behind the intruder, and at once, the court became silenced. As brutal as his reign had been, people feared the man's tyranny and his wrath and dared not disobey him up front. "Tell me about my sons." He was not questioning. He demanded answers, such was the way of the lord.
"They are within the fortress, Vlad. Safe. For now. And their safety depends on you!" The stranger smiled as he removed the hood from his head, revealing blue hair and red eyes. Eyes that knew no fear. These were eyes that would dare have Wallachia at the tips of his finger.
"What do you want?" Asked Vlad, his tone softening. He was a wise king, and realized this stranger was in no way simple. To act against him would be calling forth the wrath of god themselves.
"Let's talk in private," The blue haired stranger suggested as he turned around and started walking down the steps, towards the marbled floors.
"Leave us!" Vlad II Dracul raised his voice in address to his court. The doors were opened and all its officials left the throne room on short notice. They didn't like it, but the King in distress only wanted his sons back. They are all he had after the passing of their mother, heir apparent to the House of Basarab and he would not see the Kingdom pass to his brother or their children.
"Good. We can talk," The stranger spoke as the last of the court left the room and the guards shut the doors behind them.
"Then talk," The impatient old king was eager to listen to the stranger's proposal in return for his sons, who he claimed were still somewhere in the castle.
"As you know Vlad, the Byzantine Empire in the east wants to expand and Venezia stands in direct opposition to this initiative. With Wallachia's alliance they may be able to stop and repel invasive armies by mounting a two front offensive. This is something the Byzentines don't want happening, and I have been dispatched to negotiate a treaty, and until your loyalty to the Empire is guaranteed, I intend to keep your sons hostage."
The old king finally understood. Politics. Wallachia had been on friendly terms with its neighbors Hungary, Bulgaria, Moldovia and Croatia for well over a decade. Attacking Wallachia itself wasn't so easy. On the other hand, everyone wanted Venezia, but the Venezians controlled a majority of commerce in the region and had the resources to hold its own, making it difficult for anyone to make a move against them, that is if they did not want to have to deal with trecherous trade routes and seizure of supply lines.
"And what do I get in return for this alliance with the Byzantines?" The Old King was not stupid. His sons were merely a leverage, but to play this game without anything to gain from it was to expend resources and coming out the sore loser. He would not have it.
This, the stranger understood as well. "I've heard Venezia charges a 50% tax from their ports. I have the authority to negotiate a 35% cut from what you pay Venezia."
"What my people pay," The Old King laughed. He was making it too easy.
"So you disagree, then," The stranger smiled.
"Not all all. But to turn a blinds eye to your march west requires an adequate compensation to match, one that would allow me to answer my neighbors when they ask why." And no doubt, every major power in the region would want to know why Vlad II Dracul turned a blinds eye on its allies. Action without probable cause left it open for dangers to threaten the kingdom itself.
The Stranger fell silent, perhaps not understanding the Old King's words.
"If a faction of Venezian troops were to attack Wallachia and destroy a village or two, I will be forced to break all ties with them." The Old King smiled.
The Stranger smiled. Truly, as the rumors said, Vlad II Dracul was a dangerous man, not hesitating to throw away the lives of his people. Still. The Stranger did not come here to discuss morality. His task was to dictate terms of agreement with the Byzantine moving west, and opening the doorway into Africa and Europe. "It will be done, and when that happens, your sons will be returned to you..." And with that, the cloaked man simply sank down into the marble floor and disappeared without a trace.
Vlad sat back down on his throne. His 16 year old son Vlad and 10 year old Radu, he hoped no harm would come to either of them.
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