Sunlight filtered through the forest, illuminating the small band of men breaking camp.  Prince Vlad was some yards distant, kneeling before a makeshift cross he had constructed by lashing together two branches.  Dryll politely stood apart from his lord, holding a double-edged battle axe in his outstretched hands.

Vlad sensed his presence, and slightly cocked his head, although he continued to hold his hands together in supplication.

“My lord, I’ve brought something that belongs to you.”

“Dryll, my imprisonment has taught me the emptiness of physical possessions.  Take it for yourself, my friend.”

“My lord, I think you’ll make an exception in this case.”

Vlad turned, perplexed, and spied the weapon.  He...

Please subscribe to keep reading.