They had been marching for days, often spread out in small groups of two or three riders to avoid detection.  By day they wore cloaks to cover their uniforms and appear as peasants, weighing down their proud steeds with supplies to make them appear as beasts of burden from a distance.  The sultan must have heard of the convoy attack by now, and although tedious such precautions had allowed them to skirt past the fortress city of Bucharest without detection.

Prince Vlad felt invigorated with every step deeper into his homeland.  While imprisoned he had longed to see his beloved Wallachia and now he was within its borders.  For the first time in a long, long time Vlad felt hope.  Once safely inside the thick Vlasia Forest they were able to shed their disguises, and it was freeing to once...

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