The Saga of Larten Crepsley 1-4. Darren Shan
of your successes in order to prepare you for your failures.
“I expect more of you than of Wester,” Seba said quietly. “Wester will make a fine vampire if he does not die young in his pursuit of the vampaneze, but he lacks your potential. You have the capacity to become a vampire of great standing. Or so I believe.
“I have always tried to treat you the same as Wester, but I think I failed to hide my high opinion. You read my thoughts and, being young and impressionable, assumed that you were as noble and capable as I hoped you might become.
“I have been soft on you. Instead of setting you tasks you could not complete, I played to your strengths and let you forge ahead. It is not a bad policy – most people need to build on a series of small successes, to increase their skills and give them a sense of self-belief – but it was the wrong approach in your case. You have grown headstrong and overly confident. Again,” he said as Larten tried to object, “that was my fault, not yours. I let it happen because I was proud of you.”
Seba leant against the tree and gazed at his student. “You thought you would crack many heads tonight, beat champions, set records, make a name for yourself, aye?”
“Aye,” Larten said, smiling bitterly. “I know how foolish that was, but–”
“–you believed it anyway,” Seba finished. “In my heart, part of me believed it too. I secretly hoped that you would take the clan by storm. That hope led me to misdirect you. I should have told you to expect the worst. You had never fought a vampire before. It takes time, practice and many losses before a new-blood can get the better of his peers. But because I believed that you could thwart those odds, I said nothing. That is why you have been hurt.”
Seba got to his feet and rubbed his arms up and down. “I feel the cold these nights,” he muttered. “Perhaps I am not much longer for this world. In my youth I could sit through a freezing blizzard. Now…” The snow triggered a memory and Seba changed tack. “Do you know the story of Perta Vin-Grahl?”
“No. But Wester told me about the bathing Hall named after him.”
“Perta was not much older than I when I became a vampire,” Seba said, “but he was already an incredible warrior, destined for greatness. We all thought that he would become one of the youngest ever Princes.
“Perta passed into legend when peace was agreed between the vampires and vampaneze.” Seba had a faraway, sad look in his eyes. “That was a terrible time. A lot of those who perished in battle were our bravest and best. For centuries arguments had raged. Vampires were once poised to become the dominant force of this world. There were tens of thousands of us, at a time when humanity was far less widespread and powerful than it is now. We could have taken control, made slaves of humans everywhere, become lords of all.
“The Princes led us away from that. They saw the perils of absolute power and convinced the clan that we would become dark beasts if we sought dominion. They urged us to withdraw from the affairs of man. We made our base in lands no human would ever come to, and created laws to limit the influence we could exert over those who were weaker than us. Back then, vampires always killed when they fed, but the Princes outlawed those murderous habits.
“Many vampires disagreed with the new direction that we had taken. They felt that we had become vermin, sneaking around, stealing drops of blood here and there like leeches. Our numbers dwindled over the years. We no longer blooded as many assistants as we once did – there were new laws against it – and humans came to see us as prey. When we walked the world proudly and openly, no one hunted us, aware of the dire consequences if they killed a vampire. As we became more secretive, humans grew scornful of us, thinking us weak and cowardly. Vampire-hunting became a sport in many corners of the world.”
“You think the Princes were wrong,” Larten whispered, “that we should have stayed true to our original course.”
Seba nodded slowly. “It was our natural way. We were predators, but we were not vicious. We killed when we drank, but we absorbed part of the human’s spirit, so they lived on in a fashion. We were like lions — they are not evil when they kill, merely noble creatures of the wild obeying their fierce instincts.”
Seba held up a hand as Larten tried to object. “Hold, Master Crepsley. I do not claim we should return to the old ways. We cannot. Too much has changed. I think we took the wrong turn at a key time, but now that we are on this path, we must go where it leads. I would like to make certain alterations and adjustments, but the vampaneze went too far and I would hate to see the clan follow suit.
“All of that is beside the point. I was telling you about Perta Vin-Grahl. He fought heatedly against the vampaneze when they broke away. Before they left, he was in favour of returning to the old ways. In arguments, he took the side of those who would go on to become the vampaneze. But he believed above all else in the need to remain united. He felt that change should come from within. He savagely opposed any move to split the clan.
“Perta despised the seventy vampires who turned their backs on us to establish their own order. He led the hunt to kill them. Many wanted to debate the matter with the newly formed vampaneze. They felt it was no more than a provocative gesture, designed to spark a response. They thought that the vampaneze could be tempted back into the fold.
“Perta knew that we had passed that point. He was determined to slay them all. He said that was the only way true peace could be achieved. If we let them live, they would return to haunt us. This was even before Desmond Tiny gave us the Stone of Blood and cast his dire prophecy.”
“Who is Desmond Tiny?” Larten asked. “And what is the Stone of Blood?”
Seba waved a dismissive hand. “You will find out soon. You must go to the Hall of Princes before we leave, clasp the Stone and add your blood to that of the clan. I will explain it to you then.
“Perta killed many vampaneze. He lost a hand and half his lower jaw in battle – he could not eat solid food afterwards – but he kept going. He was the most accomplished, determined fighter I have ever seen.
“When a truce was declared, Perta could not accept it. There were others in his position, a group of angry, hateful Generals. They had lost friends and loved ones in the battles. They wanted to wage war against the vampaneze to the very end, even if it meant our end too. It looked as if there might be another split. We thought that Perta and his followers would break from us as the vampaneze had, to create a third brand of night-walkers and further weaken our position.
“But Perta did not wish to harm the clan. When he realised that he could not convince the majority to continue our war with the vampaneze, he gathered his followers and led them away. He took them to a place of ice and savage isolation. Some say it was Greenland, others the South Pole or somewhere equally remote. According to one of his followers who came back years later, they built a palace out of ice, dug tombs, finished off the blood they had taken with them, then lay in their frozen coffins and calmly waited to die.”
Seba fell silent, thinking of the lost vampires he had known in his youth, recalling Perta’s laugh and the flash of his blade. Once Seba had fought by Perta’s side and killed three vampaneze, including the General who had blooded him when he was a youth, the one who had taught him as he taught Larten, whom he loved and respected above all others. That was the darkest night of Seba’s life and he would never speak of it, not even now.
“The vampire who returned was insane,” Seba sighed. “Lack of blood and the harsh elements drove him crazy. Who knows if his story of ice castles and tombs was true? Many vampires have searched for the burial place of Perta Vin-Grahl, but it has never been found and, even if it exists, I doubt it ever will be.
“But we know that Perta and his followers chose death instead of harm to the clan. Rather than lead his supporters to war with us, Perta led them away so that the clan could flourish. It was the ultimate sacrifice, made by a vampire of true greatness, one who put the wishes and needs of the clan before his own.
“There is a reason why I am telling you this,” Seba said, eyes coming back into focus. “Perta was the finest fighter I have seen,