Ocean of Blood. Darren Shan

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СКАЧАТЬ never seen the legendary Mr Tiny and I don’t believe he’s as powerful as certain old fools claim,” Tanish said dismissively.

      “Seba saw him,” Larten said softly. “He was at Vampire Mountain when Tiny visited after the vampaneze split from the clan. Seba heard him make his prophecy. He takes it seriously.”

      Desmond Tiny was a being of immense magical power, who had predicted the downfall of the clan at the hands of the vampaneze. Lots of younger vampires thought he was a mythical creature. Larten might have too if his master hadn’t told him of the night when Mr Tiny visited the vampire base. He had seen the fear in Seba’s eyes, even all these centuries later.

      “When I was blooded,” Larten continued, “Seba made me hold on to the Stone of Blood for longer than necessary. He said that the Stone was our only hope of thwarting destiny. Mr Tiny gave us the Stone to give us hope. Tiny craves chaos. He doesn’t want the vampaneze to eliminate us too easily. He’d rather we get dragged into a long war full of suffering and torment.”

      Larten stared again at the marks on his fingers, remembering the night when he had embraced the Stone of Blood and surrendered himself forever to the rule of the clan.

      “I didn’t mean to belittle Seba Nile,” Tanish said, choosing his words with care. He wasn’t close to his own master, but he knew Larten respected Seba. “If he says he saw Desmond Tiny, I believe him and apologise if I offended you.”

      Larten made light of Tanish’s apology, though secretly it made him uneasy. He could feel himself starting to drift away from Tanish and the Cubs. Larten was growing tired of the endless drinking, gambling and womanising. He wasn’t yet ready to turn his back on the human world and its many delights, but he was sure he would return to Seba in a few more years to resume his studies.

      He doubted Tanish would abandon the easy life so willingly. Some Cubs ended up rejecting the ways of the clan. They grew attached to human comforts and chose to remain in that soft, safe world. The Generals allowed them their freedom so long as they obeyed certain laws. Larten thought that Tanish would be one of those who never returned to Vampire Mountain, but wandered forever among humans.

      “Enough of the damn vampaneze,” Zula scowled. “A pox on their purple skin. We have more important matters to discuss.”

      “Such as?” Larten asked, a twinkle in his eyes, anticipating the answer.

      “A war pack has formed.” Zula licked his lips and grinned. “They’re no more than a night’s march from here.”

      “We thought we’d swing by for you two in case you were interested,” Tanish said.

      “You thought right,” Larten chuckled. “We’ll set off at dusk.”

      “With your skin as red as a lobster’s?” Wester asked.

      “A minor irritation,” Larten said, wincing as he leant back on his bed of straw.

      Without any further discussion he closed his eyes. The others lay down and also prepared for sleep, though it would be a long time before any of them dozed. They rested in the shade for much of the morning, eyes closed but awake, thinking of the war pack, stomachs rumbling with excitement… and hunger.

      CHAPTER FOUR

      War was the great addiction of humans. Vampires loved to fight and got involved in bloody, brutal challenges all the time. But they had only been involved in a war once, when seventy of their clan broke away to become the vampaneze. Although various vampires had clashed with human forces in the past, they had never engaged in all-out conflict. As an old pun put it, war was not in their blood.

      Humans, on the other hand, seemed to be interested in nothing else. Larten had seen much of the globe in the last twenty years. He had explored the continents of Europe, Africa, America and Asia. Wars raged everywhere as men found new, inventive ways to kill even more of their race. It was like a contest, the many tribes of mankind competing to see who could commit the worst atrocities.

      Although mature vampires were not drawn to war, the Cubs were fascinated by it. To them it was a spectator sport, the same as boxing or wrestling. Many met at battlefields and cheered on the soldiers, laughed at the innocents trying to escape the crossfire, gambled on who would claim victory.

      And of course they fed. By the gods, how they fed!

      The war which Larten and his associates travelled to observe that night was a minor skirmish. Scholars might recall it in later decades, but it would not be marked as one of the important battles of its time. No vast chunks of land were at stake. History didn’t hang in the balance. There were no real profits to be made. It was just one more clash of men who felt driven to kill each other for reasons only their leaders knew. And sometimes not even their kings and generals could explain why they were fighting. They often went to war simply because they could think of nothing else to do.

      The vampires arrived a few hours before dawn. Signs of fighting were everywhere — bloodstained fields, discarded swords and muskets, limbs that had been left to rot, even a few whole bodies. There was a foul stench and the animals and birds of the night were gorging themselves, picking flesh from bones and nibbling on guts, making the most of the unexpected feast.

      Tanish studied a field of trampled crops. His sharp eyes picked out the corpse of a child among the broken stalks. The head of a soldier was half submerged in a rabbit hole. A bare foot was sticking up into the air — the four small toes had been chewed off, leaving only the big toe pointing oddly at the sky. Tanish ran his gaze over the blood and entrails, taking it all in.

      Then he laughed.

      “These look like an especially vicious lot,” Tanish said enthusiastically. “We should have an interesting day.”

      “You don’t think we’ve missed all the fighting?” Zula asked.

      “Not by a long shot,” Yebba said. “I smell human fear in the air. That way.” He pointed west. “And there.” East. “They mean to clash again and they know many more will die when they do.”

      Although Larten could smell the soldiers, he wasn’t able to pinpoint the scent of fear. But Yebba was fifteen years older and had been blooded when he was only thirteen. A vampire’s senses improved for most of their first hundred years.

      The sharp-nosed Yebba led the way as they homed in on their kin. Vampires were harder to track than humans. If Larten hadn’t known there were others present, he probably wouldn’t have noted the subtle traces of their smell in the air.

      They found the war pack resting beneath a massive, leafy tree. There were eight of them, a couple younger than Larten, the rest the same age as him or older. Tanish was the eldest and he immediately acted as if he was the ranking vampire.

      “On your feet, you lazy, good-for-nothing Cubs,” he snarled, standing just beyond the limbs of the tree, glaring like a General. “Is this any way to behave in front of your betters?”

      “You’re no better than the pimples on my backside, Tanish,” a vampire drawled. Larten recognised him — Jordan Egin, one of three in the pack that he’d met before.

      Jordan rose, slouched towards Tanish, sneered in his face, then laughed and hugged him hard. “Good to see you again, old friend.”

      “And you,” Tanish beamed. СКАЧАТЬ