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times but had never seen this side of the guard. He glanced questioningly at Larten, but the General was focused on his drained-looking friend.
    “Mr. Tiny thrives on war,” Larten said softly. “He loves chaos, battle, death. Did he visit you in order to encourage you, to advise you on how you could rally the troops and relight the fires of hatred in the hearts of the clan?”
    Wester nodded glumly. “He said
you
were the key.”
    Larten’s features darkened. “I have never been one of your supporters. You know I do not agree with you on this point. How can I have any connection to your fortune in this regard?”
    “We need a figurehead,” Wester said. “I thought Arrow could be our leader, but although he hates the vampaneze as much as I do, he doesn’t favor going to war. Several of our older, respected members have died in recent times, which has further weakened our cause. But they were never going to bestrong enough to drive us forward. We need a youthful, talismanic figure. A Prince, ideally, or a General of high standing.”
    “No Prince will back you,” Larten said.
    “None of the current batch,” Wester agreed.
    Larten’s eyes narrowed. “But you think you have found a future Prince who you can manipulate?”
    “Not manipulate,” Wester said quickly. “I’m not looking to trick anyone into doing anything they don’t want to. But if I could persuade… reason with…” He trailed off and stared at the floor. “Mr. Tiny said that you would become a Prince.”
    “Nonsense,” Larten barked. “He was toying with you. He lied.”
    “I don’t think so.” Wester looked up again. “You’re widely respected. Your reputation has been growing steadily since you returned from Greenland, having found the burial palace of Perta Vin-Grahl. Generals talk of you when they gather, and debate your movements and deeds. Your recent criticism of the Nazis won you even more admirers. You put the feelings of the clan into a few clear, simple words. They liked that. Many who were initially in favor of a union with the Nazis changed their minds because of what
you
said.”
    Larten stared at his blood brother, worried by what he was hearing. He’d never seriously thought that he might be asked to become a Prince. He knew that he had earned the respect of many in the clan, but he’d no idea feelings ran this deeply. In his own eyes he was seriously flawed. He had made a lot of mistakes, some of which he bitterly regretted. He was astonished to hear that others regarded him so highly.
    “I have never sought nomination,” Larten muttered. “Unlike Mika, I have no wish to become a Prince. It has never been my intention to impress.”
    Wester chuckled. “That’s why they like you. Most Princes don’t want to be leaders. They’re chosen partly because of their lack of ambition, not because they desire power. Mika’s an exception, but you’re like the majority, a steadfast, pure-hearted, uncomplicated vampire. Generals prefer your sort.”
    Larten shook his head with wonder, then shrugged. “I do not know if what you say is true or an exaggeration. Either way, it makes no difference. I will go about my business as I always have. I am not concerned with the politics of Vampire Mountain. If I am ever asked to lead, I shall accept with humility and honor. If not, I will serve no less fervently.
    “But if they do ask… if I do become a Prince…”His face was hard. “What good would that be to
you
?”
    Wester gulped and looked aside, unable to meet his best friend’s gaze. “I’ve never asked anything of you,” he croaked, cheeks flushing. “In the matter of the vampaneze, I left you to your conscience. I would have cherished your support, but I never sought it. I asked for no favors.”
    “And I respect you for that,” Larten said, hoping that Wester would stop there. But the slender guard couldn’t.
    “I need you to back me now.” Larten could see how much Wester hated having to beg, but he was