VOIVOD Book One: Son of the Dragon by Kyle B. Stiff

Author:Kyle B. Stiff [Stiff, Kyle B.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-09-15T03:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seven

Skanderbeg’s Dream

“There is something you could do for me, sir, though I feel ashamed to ask.”

Hamza Bey was back in Egrigoz Fortress, though if he had his will, he would be leading raiders into Bulgaria or Wallachia or Serbia and getting rich harvesting children. Instead, he was guarding the pay chest and making sure disputes between guards, villagers, and Egrigoz personnel did not get out of hand.

He looked at the man sitting before his desk. Iskender Bey was a powerful, forthright leader, the sort of servant of the Empire that even the Sultan knew and talked about. He was nearly forty years old, with black hair and beard flecked with gray, and hard blue eyes that cut straight through any mask. At first Hamza had been annoyed that the man was coming to take some of his men to bolster his troops for a harvesting of Albania. He had thought about stonewalling and making trouble for Iskender, if only to test his reputation for handling difficulties. But as soon as he had met him, he knew there was nothing he could do to such a man. The calm, steely-eyed warrior with a quiet, gravelly voice was what Hamza wanted to be.

“Anything,” said Iskender. “Only ask. I know I’m putting you out by taking some of your men.”

Hamza sighed. “How are you with children?”

Iskender laughed quietly.

“It’s just…” Hamza shrugged. “It’s one of our hostages, you see. A Wallachian boy, son of a Voivod. I can’t seem to break him. At first it was fights, harassing the other boys, things like that. Now he’s withdrawn. He’s intelligent, but he refuses to study. No matter how the teachers beat him, he refuses to cooperate.”

“You think I could put him in his place?” said Iskender.

“The thing is… he’s a bit like you. You were taken from your noble family in Albania, much as he was. But where he has failed, you excelled. You used what the great Sultan offered - education, and a trade that brought you wealth. You even became Muslim, and your name is known throughout the Empire. For twenty years you faithfully served the Sultan and the Sublime Porte.”

Iskender nodded. His gaze moved to the window behind Hamza’s desk, showing blue sky over windswept plains. Hamza realized he was losing the man’s attention. Perhaps Iskender did not respond well to honeyed words.

“Vlad could become like you,” said Hamza, “if he only applied himself. Otherwise, he’s no good to us. If the other boys see that they can get by without studying or applying themselves, then… well, he has to be put in line. Killing him would be such a waste. Perhaps if you scared him… really, truly scared him, then...”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

***

The door to the dormitory opened without warning and a strange man entered. Vlad was sitting on a windowsill, and turned to watch. The man was obviously a warrior, for he carried a wicked curved sword sheathed in his belt. He wore the robes of a Muslim, but had the pale face of a European.

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