The Eyeball Collector (20 page)

‘Just another species,’ said Hector. ‘To add some variation.’

Bovrik remained silent.

‘I can bring the rest out when they are needed,’ said Hector evenly, always surprised at how easily he disguised his utter contempt for the man.

‘Let’s hope so. And what of this?’ Now Bovrik was holding up the mortar.

Hector darted over to him and took it back. ‘It’s for the butterflies. You mustn’t touch it.’

Bovrik looked at him sharply. ‘You know what you are doing, I suppose,’ he said finally. ‘Far be it from me to interfere.’ He completed his circuit and came to stand in front of Hector again. ‘But nothing more can be allowed to go wrong. Things must be perfect for Her Ladyship.’ Then, almost under his breath Hector thought he heard him add, ‘Especially now.’ The Baron pointed at him. ‘Show it to me,’ he demanded.

Hector held out his hand and Bovrik took another look at the struggling butterfly.

‘I suppose one is not such a tragedy,’ he said, and then without warning he snatched it up and squeezed it within his closed fist until its innards oozed out from between his fingers. Hector stifled a gasp, taken aback by the savagery of his action. Bovrik opened his hand and held it out to Hector.

‘Get rid of it,’ he said.

Hector swallowed hard. Slowly he pulled the dead insect off by a wing and placed it on the table.

You monster! he thought with a ferocity he hadn’t known was in him. His heart felt squeezed dry, but he did not allow his expression to betray him.

‘I don’t have time for any more mistakes, boy. I have far more important things to attend to. Remember, I found you on the streets of Urbs Umida. I can put you back there.’

‘And I, you,’ Hector whispered to himself as he watched Bovrik turn on his heel and hurry out. ‘Or worse.’

Withypitts Hall

Dear Polly,

I hardly know where to start. I am filled with disguist at how I allowed myself to be used to punish the prisoner, to nearly bring about his death. That is Lady Mandible’s strength. In her presence men become weak, and I am not even a man. And I am still sickened at the thought of the crushed butterfly in Bovrik’s palm.

However, I must warn you now, if you thought Gerulphus and his leeches were sufficiently repulsive, or that Lady Mandible’s paintings in blood were no less than an abomination, then cover your eyes and read no further.

Only horror lies ahead. I have just witnessed a most disturbing theatre.

After Bovrik left the Hatchery in such a rush, I followed him. I could not help thinking that a man in such a hurry was worth keeping an eye on.

This time I was determined not to lose him. The hour was already late and not many servants still frequented the halls, so I was able to follow without detection. Eventually, after many twists and turns, we came to a small, narrow corridor. I thought it was a dead end. A tapestry hung on the far wall, but Bovrik drew it aside to reveal a door, through which he passed quickly. I ran lightly to the door and knelt at the keyhole to see within.

Polly, how I wish now that I had not, for some memories may never be erased!

Lady Mandible sat in a dark chair and Bovrik stood to her side. A third person, a man, stood before them. Together the loathsome pair watched, as did I from my secret place, in speechless, fascinated revulsion. The whole episode took perhaps twenty minutes, maybe a little more, and it was done. And well done, if such a thing is possible. The man, a Frenchman I think, stood in the centre of the room as if on a stage and held the animal delicately by its rear legs in his long thin fingers, in the same way one would hold a chicken drumstick. He bit at it, and not at all tentatively as one might expect. He looked as if he might actually enjoy the taste. As he chewed, the tufts of fur caught at the corner of his mouth trembled until the tip of his tongue darted out and pulled them in. The smaller bones crunched between his teeth, the larger ones he sucked clean and then discarded. All the time his expression was one of intense concentration. There was no blood. The creature was obviously already dead. For myself, I suspect that it had been cooked to make it more palatable. Boiled rather than roasted, I found myself thinking in a strangely distanced fashion, for surely if the latter then the fur would have been scorched off, in the same way that the wiry hair of the Hairy-Backed Forest Hog is scorched off before the animal is placed on the spit.

He did not eat the head and I was glad, for there was something about the idea of seeing those velvet triangular white-tipped ears going into the man’s mouth that I thought I should not be able to stand. Finally, having reached the end of this grisly meal, he produced from his pocket a large linen napkin with creases as sharp as one of Mrs Malherbe’s kitchen knives, and dabbed at his mouth and cleaned his fingers.

Lady Mandible was immediately on her feet and applauding with unfettered enthusiasm. She even clasped Bovrik’s hand, if momentarily, and thanked him breathlessly. It was the most emotional I had ever seen her. Bovrik too seemed impressed, though a little paler. Are they so indulged that only such extreme depravities can reach or stir them?

They came towards the door. Quickly I hid in the folds of the tapestry and they passed by me, only inches away. Lady Mandible came first with her bright eyes and those scarlet lips stretched across her pearly teeth. She was laughing. Bovrik was at her side, showing off his latest eyeball. I believe he must have arranged the event for her amusement. The Frenchman followed them both, preening in Lady Mandible’s continued praise.

Presumably the bizarre performer was paid a great deal. I imagine that would be the first requirement if one was expected to . . . to eat a cat as entertainment. For that is what he had just done, Polly. I am sickened and ashamed that I stayed to watch. Surely I was not like this before this twisted place! Surely the Hector of old would have long turned away, just as he would not leave an innocent man to fester in a tower, however difficult it might be to reach him.

But, Polly, the worst of it was, the cat was Posset!

And there is yet more to come. Still in a daze I entered the vacant room. In the dim light I made my way to Lady Mandible’s chair; it was warm to the touch, and I lowered myself into it. I sat back and waited for my nerves to settle. Hardly aware I was doing so, I began to stroke the velvety armrests. It was not smooth leather I felt beneath my fingers but some sort of fur, incredibly soft fur. With growing unease I ran my hand to the end of the armrest. The texture suddenly changed. Now it was hard and unyielding. I could feel knuckles and joints and fingers. For a brief moment I was paralysed with horror. Then I leaped up from my seat with a stifled scream.

I had been sitting in the grotesque beast chair of which Oscar Carpue had spoken in Pagus Parvus. I stumbled towards the fireplace, my heart thudding, only to be confronted with another appalling manifestation. Over the mantel, where I should have expected a looking glass, I saw instead a hunting trophy. But it was not a stag or a hog, it was the beast’s head. His cold, soulless eyes stared down at me and I felt an indescribable sadness.

Every time I think I have seen the worst this abominable place has to offer, I am proved wrong. As for the despicable man who plays at baron, I can hardly wait until the Feast is over and my task is completed. Then I shall be gone from here, for I swear, if I have to stay a moment longer, I fear for my sanity and my character.

At last it is time to bestir the butterflies and begin my plan in earnest.

Salve,

Your friend,

Hector

      Part the Third      

Extract from the Menu at
Trimalchio's Feast (c. AD65)

Gustatio
accompanied by
honeyed wine
Sweet dormice sprinkled with honey and poppy seeds
Plums and pomegranate seeds
Small birds, Beccaficos', in spiced egg yolk

Fercula
accompanied by
Felarian wine
Foods of the Zodiac
Aries
– chick peas,
Taurus
– beef,
Gemini
– kidneys,
Cancer
– crown of myrtle,
Leo
– African figs,
Virgo
– sterile sow's womb,
Libra
– scales of tarts and honey cakes,
Scorpio
– scorpion fish,
Sagittarius
– eyefish,
Capricorn
– lobster,
Aquarius
– goose,
Pisces
– two red mullets
Roasted wild boar with dates suckled by cake
Piglets stuffed with live thrushes
Boiled whole pig stuffed with sausages and black pudding

Mensa Secunda
Pastry thrushes stuffed with raisins and nuts
Quince apples and pork disguised as fowl and fish
Oysters and scallops
Snails