Oisín McGann: Ancient Appetites

'Clancy…'

'I shall make sure that the toast is freshly made, sir.'

'Thank you.'

Nate swallowed nervously as he regarded his reflection in the full-length mirror. The freshly starched collar felt like a blade against his neck.

The dining room where the Wildensterns took breakfast faced east, its French windows looking out over the misted blue and purple hills to the cool grey of the sea beyond. The breakfast room was big and airy, warmed by a hearty coal fire in the huge marble fireplace. The five tables, with their crisp, white linen tablecloths, could comfortably seat six people each, but it was rare for the entire family who lived in the house – more than thirty in all – to eat breakfast together. There were only two other people there when Nate came down: Tatiana and their sister-in-law – Roberto's wife, Melancholy. Or 'Daisy', as she preferred to be known.

Nathaniel would never have suspected Roberto of harming Marcus. But he wasn't so sure about Melancholy. He didn't trust her at all.

Breakfast was over, and she and Tatiana were sitting together, discussing something over tea.

'Good morning, Tatiana,' he greeted his sister, and in a frostier tone he added, 'And to you, Melancholy'

Tatiana rolled her eyes and sighed. Nate insisted on calling Daisy by her formal name whenever he could get away with it, because he knew she hated it. He was not taken in by her innocent doe eyes or charmed by her delicate, dark-haired beauty. Nate knew a gold-digger when he saw one. And she didn't like him any more than he liked her.

'Welcome home, Nathaniel,' Daisy said politely, her voice tinged with ice. 'It's good to have you back.'

I'm sure, Nate thought to himself.

'Is Berto down yet?' he enquired.

'He's still with Father,' Tatiana told him. 'When can I see the monster, Nate? Nobody will let me near it. I'm fourteen now, you know. I'm not a little girl any more.'

'After Father has finished with me,' Nate told her as he made for the sideboard. 'Not until then. We need time to introduce you properly!'

Surveying the empty dishes on the sideboard, he was about to mutter a string of curses when a parlourmaid came in with covered platters of eggs, bacon, crumpets and kippers. But it was the thick slabs of fresh toast that he'd really been waiting for. In a manor house, everybody served themselves at breakfast, and he took ample portions of the bacon and eggs from the heated silver serving dishes, as well as plenty of toast – done on one side only, as all civilized toast should be. Nate could face any morning as long as he could have his hot buttered toast.

Sitting down opposite Tatiana, he poured himself some tea from the pot and reached for the sugar.

'Is Gerald up yet?'

'You must joking.' Tatiana smirked. 'He was first down. Apparently he's made a discovery that could change the course of science. He's been rabbiting on about your adventures last night to anybody who'll listen.'

'Has he really?'

'Oh, yes,' Daisy spoke up. 'You were quite the hero, he says. Right up until that part where you… injured yourself. The hazards of riding bareback, I suppose.'

Nate coughed into his tea, and Tatiana giggled.

'Are you sure you're comfortable?' Daisy added. 'Should we get you a softer chair?'

Tatiana was noisily blowing her nose in her handkerchief, her cheeks blushing violently.

'Gerald has a habit of stretching the truth with his storytelling,' Nate grunted.

'I hope so' – Daisy sipped her tea – 'for the sake of the family line.'

Nate threw her a savage stare, and she put her hand to her mouth, turning crimson. It was not the thing to say to a man who had just lost his brother.

'I'm sorry' she stammered quietly. 'I… I wasn't thinking-'

Nathaniel continued to glare at her.

'Gerald's giving everyone else the tour down at the stables,' Tatty whined, her mind still on the monster. 'They wouldn't let me go. Said it wouldn't be decent for me to see the thing. It's so unfair.'

'Well, don't you mind them.' Nate winked at her. 'None of them will get to ride it.'

'Oh, yes please!' she exclaimed. 'Do you think I could-?'

She was interrupted by the appearance of Roberto at the door. Nate stood and hurried over. Berto gave him a grim smile.

'Nate! God, it's good to see you! Welcome home!'

'How the hell are you, you old rogue?' Nate grasped his hand. 'You haven't changed a bit!'

It wasn't true. Berto looked pale and shaken, and Nate couldn't tell if it was the shock of Marcus's death or the realization that he was now the Wildenstern Heir. Or it might just have been the result of a morning spent in the company of their father.

'How is he?' Nate asked.

'Like a bear with a headache,' Roberto replied wryly. 'I feel as if I've been put through the meat-grinder. Even the dogs are scared of him today – God, I hate those dogs. I haven't seen him in such a foul temper for a long time. He… eh, he wants to see you immediately.'

Nate looked over at his breakfast.

'I wouldn't keep him waiting,' Roberto urged him.

'Right, then.' Nate glanced uneasily towards the open doors of the elevator at the end of the corridor.

He wondered if all sons were as terrified of their fathers.

'It'll be fine,' Berto said in an effort to reassure him. 'I've… I've softened him up for you.'

Nate gave his older brother a sour look and strode out the door and down towards the elevator.

'We'll all be thinking of you!' Roberto called from behind him.

N ate stood motionless in the mechanical lift. A teenage boy in a braided uniform hovered in the corner by the door, with his hand on the brass control lever. It was pushed all the way forward. The elevator climbed steadily through the floors. Nate ran his sweating hands down his jacket and tried to loosen his stiff collar. He had told himself many times that there was no real reason to be intimidated by his father. The old man had never hurt him, had never laid a hand on him or brutalized him in the way that some of his schoolfriends had been by their fathers. In fact, his father had paid little attention of any kind to his children. Except for Marcus, of course. But there were no other patriarchs like Edgar Wildenstern. And few other families shared the ruthless Wildenstern traditions.

Few other families tolerated assassination as a means of achieving one's ambitions.

The Wildenstern family valued ambition above all other qualities. It was how they had achieved their success, and how they had accrued one of the largest fortunes in the world. The family possessed more wealth than many a sovereign nation. They were a breed apart, not only in terms of their wealth, but also in the physiology that had helped them attain it.

Wildensterns lived longer, were fitter, stronger and recovered from injury and disease far quicker than the average human being. They were blessed with what was known as 'aurea sanitas'; what their doctors (all drawn from the family itself) sometimes referred to as 'a hereditary resistance to death'. This was bolstered by the effects of gold on their powers of healing. For reasons that were still not fully understood, placing pure gold in contact with their skin increased their healing abilities many times over.

These characteristics were shared by a few of the most powerful families in the world, but were rarely spoken of outside this select company. The families were also careful to marry into one another, to keep these powers amongst themselves. When one was so blessed by God, one had to be careful not to waste His gift on the undeserving.