Vampire Rites Trilogy

“I know,” Kurda sighed. “I just wish people wouldn’t make such a big deal of it. It’s not like I’ve done anything wondrous.”

“How do you become a Vampire Prince?” I asked.

“Why?” Kurda replied, a twinkle in his eye. “Thinking of applying for the job?”

“No,” I chuckled. “Just curious.”

“There’s no fixed way,” he said. “To become a General, you study for a set number of years and pass regular tests. Princes, on the other hand, are elected sporadically and for different reasons.

“Usually a Prince is someone who’s distinguished himself in many battles, earning the trust and admiration of his colleagues. One of the established Princes nominates him. If the other Princes agree, he’s automatically elevated up the ranks. If one objects, the Generals vote and the majority decision decides his fate. If two or more Princes object, the motion’s rejected.

“I squeezed in by the vote,” he grinned. “Fifty-four per cent of the Generals think I’ll make a fitting Prince. Which means that near enough one in two think I won’t!”

“It was the tightest vote ever,” Mr Crepsley said. “Kurda is only a hundred and twenty earth years old, making him one of the youngest Princes ever, and many Generals believe he is too young to command their respect. They will follow him once he is elected – there is no question of that – but they are not happy about it.”

“Come now,” Kurda clucked. “Don’t cover up for me and leave the boy thinking it’s my age they object to. Here, Darren.” When I was standing beside him, he bent his right arm so that the biceps were bulging. “What do you think?”

“They’re not very big,” I answered truthfully.

Kurda howled gleefully. “May the gods of the vampires save us from honest children! But you’re right – they’re not big. Every other Prince has muscles the size of bowling balls. The Princes have always been the biggest, toughest, bravest vampires. I’m the first to be nominated because of this.” He tapped his head. “My brain.”

“You mean you’re smarter than everybody else?”

“Way smarter,” he said, then pulled a face. “Not really,” he sighed. “I just use my brains more than most. I don’t believe vampires should stick to the old ways as rigidly as they do. I think we should move forward and adapt to life in the twenty-first century. More than anything else, I believe we should strive to make peace with our estranged brothers – the vampaneze.”

“Kurda is the first vampire since the signing of the peace treaty to consort with the vampaneze,” Mr Crepsley said gruffly.

“Consort?” I asked uncertainly.

“I’ve been meeting with them,” Kurda explained. “I’ve spent much of the last thirty or forty years tracking them down, talking, getting to know them. That’s where I got my scars.” He tapped the left side of his face. “I had to agree to let them mark me – it was a way of offering myself to them and placing myself at their mercy.”

Now I knew why the scars looked familiar – I’d seen similar marks on a human that the mad vampaneze Murlough had targeted six years earlier! Vampaneze were traditionalists and marked their prey in advance of a kill, always the same three scratches on the left cheek.

“The vampaneze aren’t as different to us as most vampires believe,” Kurda continued. “Many would jump at the chance to return to the fold. Compromises will have to be made – both sides must back down on certain issues – but I’m sure we can come to terms and live together again, as one.”

“That is why he is being invested,” Mr Crepsley said. “A lot of the Generals – fifty-four per cent, in any case – think it is time we were reunited with the vampaneze. The vampaneze trust Kurda but are reluctant to commit to negotiations with other Generals. When Kurda is a Prince, he will have total control over the Generals, and the vampaneze know no General would disobey the order of a Prince. So if he sends a vampire along to discuss terms, the vampaneze will trust him and sit down to talk. Or so the reasoning goes.”

“You don’t agree with it, Larten?” Kurda asked.

Mr Crepsley looked troubled. “There is much about the vampaneze which I admire, and I have never been opposed to talks designed to bridge the gap between us. But I would not be so quick to give them a voice among the Princes.”

“You think they might use me to force more of their beliefs on us than we force on them?” Kurda suggested.

“Something like that.”

Kurda shook his head. “I’m looking to create a tribe of equals. I won’t force any changes through that the other Princes and Generals don’t agree with.”

“If that is so, luck to you. But things are happening too fast for my liking. Were I a General, I would have campaigned as hard as I could against you.”

“I hope I live long enough to prove your distrust of me ill-founded,” Kurda sighed, then turned to me. “What do you think, Darren? Is it time for a change?”

I hesitated before answering. “I don’t know enough about the vampires or vampaneze to offer an opinion,” I said.

“Nonsense,” Kurda huffed. “Everyone’s entitled to an opinion. Go on, Darren, tell me what you think. I like to know what’s on people’s minds. The world would be a simpler and safer place if we all spoke our true thoughts.”

“Well,” I said slowly, “I’m not sure I like the idea of doing a deal with the vampaneze – I think it’s wrong to kill humans when you drink from them – but if you could persuade them to stop killing, it might be a good thing.”

“This boy has brains,” Kurda said, winking at me. “What you said just about sums up my own arguments in a nutshell. The killing of humans is deplorable and it’s one of the concessions the vampaneze will have to make before a deal can be forged. But unless we draw them into talks and earn their trust, they’ll never stop. Wouldn’t it be worth giving up a few of our ways if we could stop the bloody murder?”

“Absolutely,” I agreed.

“Hurm!” Mr Crepsley grunted, and would be drawn no further on the subject.

“Anyway,” Kurda said, “I can’t stay hidden forever. Time to return and fend off more questions. You’re sure there’s nothing you can tell me about the Little Person and his message?”

“Afraid not,” Mr Crepsley said curtly.

“Oh well. I suppose I’ll find out when I report to the Hall of Princes and see him myself. I hope you enjoy your stay in Vampire Mountain, Darren. We must get together once the chaos has died down and have a proper chat.”

“I’d like that,” I said.

“Larten,” he saluted Mr Crepsley.

“Kurda.”

He let himself out.

“Kurda’s nice,” I remarked. “I like him.”

Mr Crepsley glanced at me sideways, stroked the long scar on his own left cheek, gazed thoughtfully at the door Kurda had left by, and again went, “Hurm!”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN (#ulink_ec2a86e5-3d11-54c0-b8cd-5f2918e253cf)

A COUPLE of long, quiet nights passed. Harkat had been kept in the Hall of Princes to answer questions. Gavner had General business to attend to and we only saw him when he crawled back to his coffin to sleep. I hung out with Mr Crepsley in the Hall of Khledon Lurt most of the time – he had a lot of catching up to do with old friends he hadn’t seen in many years – or down in the stores with him and Seba Nile.

The elderly vampire was more disturbed by Harkat’s message than most. He was the second oldest vampire in the Mountain – the oldest was a Prince, Paris Skyle, who was more than eight hundred – and the only one who’d been here when Mr Tiny visited and made his announcement all those centuries ago.

“A lot of today’s vampires do not believe the old myths,” he said. “They think Mr Tiny’s warning was something we made up to frighten young vampires. But I remember how he looked. I recall the way his words echoed around the Hall of Princes, and the fear they instilled in everyone. The Vampaneze Lord is no mere figure of legend. He is real. And now, it seems, he is coming.”

Seba lapsed into silence. He’d been drinking a mug of warm ale but had lost interest in it.

“He has not come yet,” Mr Crepsley said spiritedly. “Mr Tiny is as old as time itself. When he says the night is at hand, he might mean hundreds or thousands of years from now.”

Seba shook his head. “We have had our hundreds of years – seven centuries to make a stand and tackle the vampaneze. We should have finished them off, regardless of the consequences. Better to have been driven to the point of extinction by humans than wiped out entirely by the vampaneze.”

“That is foolish talk,” Mr Crepsley snapped. “I would rather take my chances with a mythical Vampaneze Lord than a real, stake-wielding human. So would you.”

Seba nodded glumly and sipped at his ale. “You are probably right. I am old. My brain does not work as sharply as it used to. Perhaps my worries are those of an old man who has lived too long. Still…”