#[ Hadad will be providing comfort fyi ]

[count-v-dracula]

Escape † Pt. 1 of 2

“Go on! Go on you stupid boy! Do that again and you shall get a beating greater than the last!” A deep male voice cried out in vain as boy, about thirteen years old with raven hair that just grazed his shoulders and a face soured with a trenchant look ran angry out of one of many doors of the palace. The one that had been crying out to the child was a court attendant that was at his wit’s end of harnessing that boy. Everyone in the Sultan’s household despised the child that had only been there a month. From smashed property, being spat on, and sneaky tricks to upset servants and others had only caused disruption and discord among all. Sultan Murad himself had sat down with the fair-skinned child, and only temporarily pacified him.  The tutors bore the worst from the prince-to-be, so they accused. Vladislaus, this foreign boy would always be questioning why he had to learn this or that, why their Allah was better than his Almighty, and more baser acts of defiance akin to boys his age that can be imagined.

The air was warm and dry as it murmured, carrying flecks of sand in gusts as the boy marched to the stables, determined to do what he had only dreamt of doing since he was taken here. “Come on, Hadad!” Vlad shouted to his beloved horse, the animal’s silky mane resembled that of his young master’s. “I mean it this time,” he whispered as he swallowed back a lump in his throat, wiping his tears on the sleeve of his blouse until a quiet ‘ahem’ made Vlad turn quickly around to find what appeared to be a stable hand. He was an older man,  his skin was bronzed and his eyes were like black oil. He also had a short white beard and mustache that scratched against the top of his hands that rested beneath his chin as he leaned on the pitchfork, wearing a light smile – a touch embarrassed to have witnessed the boy crying and in his fit.

“You! Servant! Saddle my horse for me, I want to leave here immediately.” Afshin, the groom, smiled wider and gave a slight bow at the waist. “Yes, young sire.” He set the pitchfork aside and attended the demand. Afshin had heard of the untamable one that lived with several others that were kept as assurance that no foul play or understanding would be broken between him and the other party. The other party, for Vlad, was his own father. Vladislaus and his younger brother Radu, had been handed over to the Sultan as a promise that that Vlad Dracul would not dishonor on their agreement between their separate courts. To gain the trust of the Sultan, was to lose the trust, and love of his sons – not so much Radu, for he was younger and still did not fully understand, but Vladislaus felt otherwise.

“Hurry up, old fool!” Vlad strangled a sob and folded his arms tightly as he watched the man prepare Hadad for the saddle. “Forgive me for saying, young sire, but you don’t seem to be in a hurry yourself,” Afshin observed with a light countenance.

“How dare you speak with insolence to me! I am the prince...or--” he began to falter, “I am going to be someday! You all will see and kneel to me! I will crush all of you!” Afshin only smiled, his back to the inflamed youth. “How I see it, young sire, you would have left weeks ago if you really wanted to.” Vlad’s mouth dropped open as he drew in a breath...the groom was right. There were many opportunities where he could have quietly slipped away, with Radu alongside him. And now? Radu was back in the palace, laughing and being adored! They loved him, and hardly gave notice to Vlad. Radu’s face was angelic, to say the least. His round eyes of almond brown, his wavy dark hair and petal lips enchanted the court. Vlad, however, was too pointed, tall and thin and his nose was pronounced by this. It did not stop at physical beauty, though. Radu’s temperament was pleasant and sanguine, he was the child that followed the rules of the house and did not ask impertinent questions like his brother.

“Well – I’m leaving now unless you die before you finish, old man!” Vlad snapped back, knowing he was at a disadvantage. “What if you die before I finish,” he retorted plainly. Afshin had no fear of this noble youth. “What...what do you mean?” Vlad asked, confused and intrigued. “His majesty, if he finds out, will kill you, will he not if you, or your brother did anything so foolish as running away?”

Vlad’s eyes welled with a fresh tears that fell down his burning cheeks, colored a deep red from being distraught and he collapsed into a fresh pile of straw, drawing his knees up as he pressed his head atop them and hugged his legs. “I hate it here! I hate everyone! I hate you!” He lashed out between sobs that shook his whole frame. Afshin finished strapping the saddle down and continued to put on the bridle. “Hate...a powerful feeling, isn’t it?” the groom observed. “Hate, I’ve learned in life, is a veil on top something else.” Vlad didn’t listen, he blurted out, “I hate my father! I hate my brother!”

“Slow down, young sire, or you’ll leave someone out of your hate, for sure,” his smile dimmed as he looked down at the boy. “I know it isn’t my place to speak, but, I think you love your brother and father, dangerously love them. I do not know you, or your family, though I do understand why you and your brother are here and the others, but I should say if you didn’t care, you would not be so upset, young sire.” Vlad rose to his feet, the sand from outside mingled with his tears and dirtied his face, his gemlike eyes sparkled for the tears. “Is my horse ready?” He asked, low and steady, attempting to keep his voice from faltering and from the anger bursting out again. “He is, young sire,” Afshin nodded and stepped back with a respectful nod.

Vlad hoisted himself onto Hadad’s back, took the reins, and coaxed him into a walk. “Young sire!” Afshin said, placating. “Shall you not say goodbye to your brother first? Once you are gone, so will he be.”

~~To be continued...