Empire of the Crescent Moon by Victor T. Foia

Author:Victor T. Foia [Foia, Victor T.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781491296400
Publisher: Dracula Press, LLC
Published: 2014-03-12T00:00:00+00:00

Soon Vlad became convinced his father had failed to quell Nestor’s invasion. If no longer King of Wallachia, he’d be of no further interest to Murad. Neither would Vlad, whose value as a hostage would be annulled. Murad would forget Vlad in the donjon, as he did Ferran. Only Vlad wasn’t someone who clung to an unworthy life at all cost.

While trying to become a hostage, Vlad hadn’t once invoked God’s help. After all, it was He who gave Vlad the idea. But now, when it was evident evil forces had claimed Vlad as their prize, his need for God’s help glowed like charcoal under the bellows’ breath. Yet a spiteful stubbornness prevented him from begging for mercy. He’d done the right thing, so why had God abandoned him? Yes, he needed help, but not to endure, only to escape through death. The image of Princess Lubomirska’s face, upturned to a deaf sky, came to his mind, and he shouted, “Mein Gott, nimm mich!”

He decided to stop eating and drinking while he waited for God to take his life. With hunger and thirst gnawing at him, Vlad discovered that even thinking about Donatella no longer brought him solace. In the early days, her memory was a balm that assuaged his loneliness. But now he was unable to conjure more than a vague, colorless outline of her face. Then even that image faded, and he was left with only the darkness that surrounded him and sucked his energy drop by drop.

The fifth day of fasting crushed his will, and he crawled to the grille at the sound of the cart like a trained dog to his master. He slurped the water greedily, and devoured the boiled vegetables with a smacking of lips that outdid Ferran’s. All along he loathed himself for cowardliness.

Next time his resolve lasted longer. When he finally drank and ate again, he wasn’t sure anymore if it was really happening. Perhaps he was already on the other side. But if that were true, what a disappointment that his new world should look and feel just like the one he left behind. Only the pain in his guts reminded him that God hadn’t yet done His work.

The last time Vlad crawled to the door he was too weak to return to his pallet. He curled on the floor under the grille, and told himself the end had finally arrived. From then on, he felt twice a day water pouring into his mouth, and had no will left to refrain from swallowing it.

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