Ancient Appetites

At Hugo's insistence, Gerald had used the engimal limb to replace Brutus's missing hand.

'Yes, the servants can take it to the refrigerators,' Gerald replied. 'The collar of a dress suit will hide the stitches… whenever you decide to hold a proper funeral.'

'Excellent,' Hugo grunted. 'You are a talented boy. What of Brutus?'

'His recovery proceeds,' Gerald said coolly. 'Your blood has helped. There's no movement yet, but his breathing and colour are better.'

Hugo went over to stand by his brother's bed. His face softened and he knelt by the bedside. Gold needles were visible, protruding from Brutus's arms and neck, but they had been removed from his face. He had recovered much of his muscular bulk and now looked as if he were just sleeping. Hugo tenderly placed a hand on the huge man's brow.

'Not long now, my brother,' he whispered. 'Our prayers are with you. We will be together soon; it is God's will.'

'I seriously doubt it,' Daisy muttered under her breath.

Gerald took her elbow and led her aside. She felt a cold cylinder of glass and steel being pressed into her hand.

'Hugo likes you,' he said to her in a hushed voice. 'We can use that against him – you can win his confidence… get close to him. He's damned near invulnerable; I don't think we could kill him with bullets alone – perhaps with explosives or the right kind of blade… who knows? And now he's wearing bloody chain mail too… But this syringe contains a poison that can kill him if you can get close enough to stick it into his heart.'

Daisy gave him a sharp look, checking to ensure that Hugo was still intent on Brutus's unconscious face. The others were on the far side of the room, looking at Edgar's corpse. She eyed the hypodermic syringe in her hand. It was filled with a dull, greenish liquid and had a rubber cap on the needle.

'Aren't the Wildensterns immune to poisons?'

'This is different,' Gerald whispered. 'It's made from the toxins produced by the dead flesh in Brutus's hand – gangrene, you understand? Now that their bodies are revived, their own dead flesh can infect their blood, I'm sure of it.'

'I… I'm not like all of you,' she said. 'I don't know if I could kill someone. And besides, I can't leave Berto now.'

'Do you want to spend the rest of your days living under a man who thinks the world is flat and his brain is in his chest? Because I cannot!' Gerald hissed. 'What would you do to save Berto's life? Hold his hand or kill his enemy?'

She didn't answer, but she could feel her resolve growing. Elizabeth was looking over at them now and Daisy's heart started to beat faster.

'Why don't you do it, if you're so sure it'll work?' she retorted.

'Because I'm not the one he's making eyes at, woman!' Gerald said, almost too loud. 'You need to get him alone… get him to take off that bloody armour and drop his guard. But you have to stick the needle in his heart. Anywhere else and he could take hours, even days to die. You understand what I'm telling you?'

Daisy hesitated, and then nodded. If she tried to kill Hugo and failed, his revenge would be terrible. Clutching the syringe in the folds of her dress, she edged towards the Patriarch. Elizabeth's watchful eyes followed her, the leaf-light cloak giving off the faintest glow in the low light at that end of the room. Daisy glanced over at Roberto for a moment, and then touched Hugo gently on the shoulder. He looked round and up at her.

'My lord,' she said haltingly. 'Gerald tells me that… that if Roberto is to survive, he will need expensive medicine and surgery and… and a long convalescence. I realize that you two have had your differences, but…' She paused to compose herself, keeping her gaze lowered. 'I wonder if I… if we could speak in private? Perhaps I could convince you to overlook his disloyalty and see that he gets the help he needs?'

'What are you doing?' Berto growled, trying to raise himself from the table on which he lay. 'Daisy? What's going on?'

Elizabeth's eyes narrowed in suspicion, but Hugo stood up and gave a lascivious smile

'Daisy?' Berto asked again plaintively.

It hurt her like a wound to ignore him, but she did. Instead, she fixed Hugo with a pleading, wide-eyed expression. He opened his arms in a generous gesture.

'Every great leader knows when to show mercy' he said. 'Come, my dear. Let us retire to more comfortable surroundings and see if your beauty is matched by your persuasive powers.'

Taking her arm, he led her from the room without a second glance at Roberto. As they passed Elizabeth, the two women locked eyes.

If there's anything left of this poison when I'm done, Daisy thought, I'm going to drive the rest of it into your rotten heart, you witch.

Gerald watched them leave. He instructed his footman to fetch a nightshirt, dressing gown and some more blankets for Berto and then waited until he was alone with his injured cousin. Then, taking a clean syringe, he strode over to Brutus's inert form and inserted it into the ancient warrior's arm. Berto watched as the young doctor drew blood into the syringe.

'What's that for?' he asked.

'It's for you,' Gerald told him. 'I've already given some to Clancy. His wounds were so serious I was at my wits' end. I would have given up on him, but Nate wouldn't have it. So I decided to see if our ancestor's blood could do anything. Thought it would finish him off, to be honest – he's a commoner, so he has no aurea sanitas of course.' He pulled out the needle. 'But it didn't. He may well make it after all. And if it can help him…'

He walked over to Berto and wiped the crook of his cousin's arm with some cotton wool and alcohol.

'I have to say, I think I'm getting the hang of this miracle business-'

'Gerald,' Berto said in a choked voice. 'Look.'

Gerald turned round in time to see movement by Brutus's bed. The fingers of the giant's left hand were twitching.

'Oh, bloody hell,' he said.

Nate left the horse tied to a gate, where it would be picked up by Duffy's people later that morning. In the first misty glow of dawn, he was able to slip by the guards patrolling the wall of the estate and climb over, making his way through the forest towards Wildenstern Hall. Dew dripped from the trees and strands of mist lay in the undergrowth, wetting his clothes and shoes, the cold making him shiver as his fatigue began to catch up with him. It wasn't fear that made him tremble, he was sure of that. For the first time in his life he was doing what he had been bred to do.

A bizarre sight awaited him on the lawn as he came to the edge of the forest. Standing on the grass not far from the house were two enormous shapes, their feet shrouded in mist. At first the light of the low morning sun made their shapes indistinct against the grey walls of the house, but as his eyes adjusted, Nate recognized Trom and Colossus, the juggernaut. They stood perfectly still, as if awaiting orders. He gaped at the sight in amazement.

Trom could never be left alone like that without wandering and Colossus… Colossus was too wild – too insane to be let out of its enclosure. Nate stared, bewildered, until he remembered what Gerald had told him. One drop of blood in an engimal's water and they were yours to command. He had found it hard to believe it would work on the simple mind of a toast-maker, never mind the tortured brain of the juggernaut.

He was under no illusions as to who was in command of the huge engimals. Creeping up along the hedge to the stables, he was careful not to attract their attention. Their eyes were dimmed, but he was sure they could come alert at any second. Unlatching the side door of the stables, he stepped inside and closed it after him. The stable boys were already up; he could hear them moving around upstairs. He knew the grooms would be here any minute too, to start feeding and exercising the horses. He had to be quick. He needed his velocycle, and then he had to find Abraham and his brothers. There was a plan to be hatched.

Flash was in its stall and looked up timidly as he leaned over the door. It whimpered and turned its face to the wall.

'Bloody right, you should be ashamed,' he snarled at the velocycle as he opened the door. 'You're a downright