Prince Vlad Guesthouse - The Legend of Prince Vlad from Marginimea Sibiului

Legend of Prince Vlad after the lost charter in the Wolves forest

Transylvania. Country of legend. God Year 1436. Gerar's Month, the seventh day, given from God to honor council prophet John the Baptist, the second day after Holy Baptism...


Through the dark woods below the Cibin mountain's silver crown, hastily descends a royal procession. Alongside him, a youth not even five springs old is traveling, with his cheeks covered with shawls. Stallions feet are in thick rough homespun close up to the slender ankles in white tail and the horse riders have frozen nailed hands. The clock is moving west, the sun leaves reddish shadows over snow, losing it in the darkness of the forest... Sunset smell and the frozen air that announces the long winter nights calls from the gloom heralds of hungry packs, lured by the hot blood of the horses. Long howling of the wolves can now be heard along with the sharp north wind...

My lord! Forgiveness! In front of the prince an young varlet agile slips off the horse, red and perspiring, still kneeling with head in the snow nearly two cubits high. The Prince has been lost! Royal guard riders' hands go instinctively to handle the cold swords. On their shoulders, hunting falcons struggle, helpless in the face of darkness. Horses are held jerky from their reins and neigh steam fills the forest. Horn sounds long and hundreds of knights start in leaps reared by a side of the path. People carrying light torches weight heavy, in tar-soaked, fire coral and start shaking hands to roam in the darkness.

After six hours of search, when church bells let be known trough burgs that midnight is over, the echo of a thick horn can be heard from somewhere: two short and one prolonged screams like the whistling wind - a sign of great news! ... The prince turns its madder in a breath and leaves to there. Not even a soldier in power would not defeat the thread of life in frost-nailed so many terrible hours, let alone one 5 year old baby of roots ... But the prince prayed while splitting snow... pray and hope, putting his faith in belief...

And his prayers are rewarded. In light of torches carried by varlets, the ruler finds his son happy, safe and smiling. He lies in the snowy blizzard, where you see all around fresh traces of beasts... Wolves warmed him and kept him alive, my lord! It's a big sign for the young prince! Knights dismounted and bowed their heads in the night while the voice of the great counselor who uttered the prophecy could be heard carried by echoes into the night... Through the skylight passing through the clouds the moon showed its arcane smile...

...and in the month of August, year of God 1456, on the twentieth, that of Holy Martyrs Severus and Eliodor, Prince Vlad descendant of Vlad II, Grand Knight of the Order Of the Dragon, fulfilled the prophecy of the Forest Wolves, becoming first Lord and Principe over Wallachia.


MLIVD