Ancient Appetites

escape and rescue when he reached his door, carelessly grasping the handle.

'Sir!' Clancy barked.

But it was too late. Nate flung open the door and walked through without pressing the safety catch in the handle. The next thing he knew, Clancy was slamming him against the door frame and he felt a sharp pain in his chest.

'Agh!' he yelled. 'What the bloody hell's got into you?'

He pushed the footman away, clutching his chest. That was when he saw the metal point sticking out of the breast of Clancy's jacket. Clancy collapsed against the opposite door frame and slid down to the floor, groaning. The tail of the crossbow bolt sticking out of his back clacked against the floor. It had been shot from a crossbow mounted in the base of the sofa on the other side of the room; a booby trap meant to protect Nate… and he had walked right into it. It was the tip of the bolt he'd felt digging into his own chest, after it had embedded itself in his servant's body.

'Oh God,' he whimpered breathlessly. 'Oh God, no. Not you. Oh God, I'm sorry.'

He pulled his handkerchief from his pocket and tried to stem the bleeding. Clancy struggled to sit up.

'Stay down, man!' Nate urged him, his voice cracking into a sob. 'I'll get help. I'm so sorry. Gerald… Gerald can help you-'

'I'm dying,' Clancy replied with wet noises in his throat. 'There's no one can help that.'

He sounded furious. Nate caught his breath and wiped tears from his eyes. He couldn't bear to have the man angry at him now, when they had so little time left.

'Hush,' he said. 'I'll get help.'

'Shut up and listen, boy,' Clancy growled, his Limerick accent suddenly stronger, all trace of civility gone from his voice. He seized the collar of Nate's jacket. 'Shut up! Listen to me. You can't let them take what's yours, y'hear me? Don't… don't let those bloody snakes take over. This is your family… you must claim it back!' He choked on something, coughing.

'Don't worry about me now,' Nate told him. 'We need to-'

'This isn't about you, you little whelp!' Clancy snarled again. 'There's more at stake here than your privileged little life…' He ran out of breath, growing steadily weaker. 'Your father didn't want you or Roberto taking charge, y'understand? You don't have his greed and he sees that as weakness. It takes an appetite for… for money… for power to run this family the way he wants and you don't have it, y'understand? The Duke's seed was gone, he could have no more children. And Gideon is a coward… and… and stupid to boot. The Duke needed a new Heir… That's…' He took a shaky breath. 'That's why he let Hugo and the others live. Because the Duke needed to seed a ruthless new generation.'

He went quiet for a moment, struggling to breathe. Blood pooled under him, despite Nate's attempts to cover the wounds.

'This wealth isn't theirs to take,' Clancy managed at last. 'Nor is it yours… for that matter. You never earned it – none of you did. But… but you can spend the rest of your life making good. Be a just master… You have a duty… Don't disappoint me… Nathaniel.'

He slumped down, barely conscious, letting out short, loud, wet panting groans. Nate pulled him up and heaved his servant onto his shoulder. Hurrying back to the painting at the end of the corridor, he entered, lit a candle, and slammed the Duke's portrait closed behind him.

*

'Where is he?' Gideon demanded. 'We'll find him anyway, you know'

'Then why bother asking?' Roberto said through broken teeth.

Gideon and his stocky brood of five sons with their thick black pelts and various facial hair arrangements wrestled their captives along the hallway towards the Duke's study. Daisy had tried to hold them up so that she could tend her husband's injuries, but they would have none of it. Berto had put up a fight and had paid the cost. The fingers of one hand were dislocated and Daisy was sure he had fractures in his ribs or arm from the way he walked. His face was badly bruised.

Holding Tatiana's hand, she walked as quickly as her dress would allow, shaking her arm free when one of the Gideonettes tried to drag her ever faster. They reached the door of the study and Gideon threw it open, two of his sons becoming jammed in the doorway behind him in their efforts to be next through. The rest of the party managed to enter with a little more dignity. Berto was thrown to the floor in front of the desk, with three men holding him, his face pressed into the carpet.

'The prodigal children return!' Hugo greeted them with a grim smile as he stood up from behind the desk. 'I trust you have recovered from your pampered tantrums and are ready to behave with a little more decorum?'

They stared for a moment, struck by the strange sight of a man wearing a dress suit, but with a vest of chain mail over his shirt. It must have come from one of the antique costumes the family kept. The steel links glittered in the light under his black suit jacket. A purple cravat covered a stout leather collar protecting his neck. He saw them looking.

'Old habits die hard,' he said, gesturing at the armour. 'Best to be careful until I know where everyone stands, eh?'

He came round the desk to face them, glancing at Roberto for just a moment before fixing his gaze on Daisy. Taking her hand, he kissed her knuckles, his waxed goatee brushing against her fingers. She wrinkled her face in disgust at his touch, but she was not going to give him the satisfaction of showing her fear. There was nothing left to her but her dignity.

'This family has bathed in sin long enough,' he said softly. 'It it time to accept Christ into your hearts. I have been chosen to save you all from your sins that we might spread His Word across this benighted land.'

Daisy threw him a contemptuous look.

'The problem with people who think they've been chosen by God is that all too often they haven't,' she said to him. 'But they enthusiastically proceed in committing all manner of atrocities, safe in the belief that anything they do is God's Will. Don't mistake your motives for His. I'm quite sure Christ is not in the business of stabbing his host at the dinner table.'

'I am Christ's Sword,' Hugo said solemnly. 'And I will do His Bidding.'

'I don't remember Jesus using a sword, or any other weapon for that matter. Perhaps it's someone else's voice you're hearing?'

Hugo flinched, but then laughed and opened his arms wide.

'By Jove, you've got spirit!' he roared. 'You are a woman of substance and no mistake. My sisters and I are going on a visit to the zoo. Will you join us, ma'am?'

'I'd rather you just let us leave,' Daisy retorted.

'Hah! No,' said Hugo, his smile changing to a regretful expression. 'I'm afraid a trip to the zoo is the best we can do for you at the moment.'

XXIX

A NIGHT-TIME VISIT TO THE ZOO

Nathaniel made his way down through the labyrinth of wooden and stone-walled passages, the light of the candle throwing a bobbing glow ahead of him that would announce his approach to anyone lying in ambush. He turned every corner with care, pistol raised. Clancy had still been alive when they reached Gerald's laboratory. Gerald did not offer much hope, but had begun operating immediately. Nate had been forced to leave his footman in his cousin's hands; they would all be in danger if Nate was discovered there.

Every step he took felt like a betrayal. Tatty, Berto and Daisy were all behind him and he was deserting them to save himself. It would be days, if not weeks, before he could return with allies from the family in Cork, and anything could happen in that time. And by then, Hugo would have secured his position in the house. Nate would return to find a fortress waiting for him.