Oisín McGann - Ancient Appetites

Francie watched as they led the velocycle into the stables, and waited until Hennessy had filled the engimal's water trough and gone back to where he lived in the cottage at the bottom of the gardens. With his heart pounding in his chest, Francie crept up to the door of the huge stables, lifted the latch and slipped inside. A single lantern burned near the door – Hennessy must not be finished here. He'd have to be quick.

There were a couple of other engimals in the stalls of this wing, along with the most of the coach-horses, but he ignored them all. The deep rumble of the new machine's engine could be heard throbbing at the far end. He tiptoed to the door of the stall and looked over. The thing was guzzling water, sucking it up through its vented nostrils.

'Lookit you, yeh beauty,' he whispered. 'I've never seen nothin' like yeh!'

Its flank was just within reach, and he reached out tentatively, stroking his fingertips along the smooth metal. The engimal flinched and twisted round to look at him, and Francie whipped back his hand for fear of losing it.

A sharp smack to the back of his head knocked all thoughts of the creature from his brain, and he turned round in time to catch another blow on the ear.

'Ow! Jaysus!' he cried.

'Jesus wuz born en a stable, son,' Hennessy growled at him. 'So ah'll have no blasphemin' on sacred grind!'

'I was just lookin'!' Francie protested.

'You look wuth your eyes and not wuth your hands, yeh wee gastral,' Hennessy lambasted him, smacking him around the ear once more. 'That's the master's beast and don't you go touchin' it again! An' whut have yeh done to yer clothes? Git up thar nye and clean yerself up 'fore I take a crop to yer arse!'

The old man aimed one more blow for good measure, but Francie ducked and darted to the back door, flipping up the latch. He stole a last glance at the velocycle. The creature regarded him for a moment, and then turned its attention back to the water. Francie let himself out through the door and closed it behind him. Hurrying round the building, he climbed the stairs that led up to the loft. The stable boys slept at one end of the space, in narrow beds with lumpy straw-filled mattresses. This end was always damp, which was why the other, dry end was used for storing the straw and feed. The stables had been built for the benefit of the family's horses; the boys who tended them had to fit in wherever they could.

Working his way across the creaking floorboards in the musty gloom, he kept one hand up ahead of him at head height. That way he would feel out the low roof beams before he hit his head off them. This was not the first time he'd had to make his way to his rickety-framed bed in complete darkness, so finding it was easy. The boys had to sleep two to a bed and his usual bed-mate, Patrick, was fast asleep, dreamily mumbling to himself and licking his lips.

Wrinkling his nose at the rank smell of mouldy feet, Francie shucked off his muddy clothes and climbed into bed, pulling some of the thin woollen blanket over himself. Patrick snorted and rolled after it, but didn't wake up. Francie sighed as he tugged to get more of the blanket, but was glad of Patrick's warmth. They were getting too big to be sharing a bed, and he could feel the wooden frame digging into his side. He lay awake, waiting for sleep to take him away. Below the floorboards, the bass engine sounds of the velocycle soothed his nerves.

He dreamed of owning his own engimal. Not even in his wildest imaginings would he have believed that he would ever have something like the creature downstairs; but maybe something small, like the lawncutter he had tried to catch, or one of the other machines he saw around the grounds of the estate.

Maybe when he was rich. His father was always telling him he could be rich if he tried hard enough. It didn't seem to be working for his da, though, and he was always trying stuff. But then, they'd never had a really big plan before. And now they did.

Francie was proud of himself. He couldn't make up plans; he didn't know how to do things like his da. But he'd come up with the idea, and that was what they really needed. Da would look after all the planning. He'd already said they'd need Francie's help. And he said that if they pulled this job off, Francie would be able to buy a whole stable-full of engimals all for himself. That's how rich they were going to be.

He lay there, picturing all the creatures he'd collect, and tried not to listen to the scratching of the rats in the roof Some day, he thought. Some day soon.

Nathaniel woke late and lay huddled in the warm blankets for some time, savouring the comfort of a real mattress after more than a year of ship bunks and camp-beds. He had woken during the night, undressed, and crawled under the covers. His whole body ached from the struggle with the velocycle. His tongue was painfully swollen.

In the drawer by his bed was a small purse of gold sovereigns. Lying back in the bed, he laid three of the coins under his nightshirt, down along the bare flesh of each leg, and three more on either side of his ribcage. His arms would be all right after some stretching. He slipped another of the gold coins under the hem of his underpants, gasping as the cold metal touched his skin. He took one more sovereign from the purse and put it in his mouth, sucking on it to ease the pain in his tongue.

Before long the pain was forgotten, replaced by the excitement of what he'd achieved. He had tamed a wild engimal. Not some would-be tool or piece of furniture, but a true beast. He couldn't wait to go and see it in the daylight, but first he would have to traipse downstairs and greet the family. And the sooner he got that over and done with, the better.

When he was satisfied that the gold had suppressed the worst of the aching, he gathered the coins up and put them back in their purse. Reaching out for the cord that hung by the side of the bed, he rang the bell, and a minute later Clancy knocked and came in.

'Good morning, sir.'

'Morning. I suppose they're all downstairs?' Nate asked.

'Actually, most of the family are out by the stables, sir,' the manservant replied as he took a shirt and trousers from one of the wardrobes. 'Word has got round about your velocycle; it's been up half the night, scaring the wits out of the horses.'

Nate grinned and threw the covers off, sitting up on the side of the bed.

'If you think they're prattling now, Clancy, wait till they see it run!'

'I have no doubt its running will be the subject of prattle for days to come, sir. But I'd suggest some breakfast first. Your father is in his study with Master Roberto; he has asked to see you when they are done.'

Nathaniel's face dropped. So it had already started. His life as he knew it was over.

'Would you like me to run a bath for you, sir?'

Nathaniel had already taken off his nightshirt and was standing, waiting for his trousers. He frowned.

'Is that a hint?'

'I'd venture to say, sir, that the velocycle wasn't the only thing you brought down from the mountains.'

Nate smelled his armpits. 'Yes, of course.' He grimaced. 'Of course. What was I thinking…?'

'Are you all right, sir?'

'I'm fine!' he snapped, scowling.

Clancy had become far too comfortable in his position, but Nate never had the stomach to pull him up for it. Servants were not even supposed to speak in their master's presence unless they were asked a question or were delivering a message. They were supposed to be invisible. But Clancy's extra duties as tutor and bodyguard had made him more familiar than a typical footman. It was particularly irritating when the servant pointed out his master's mistakes.

It was strange how quickly Nate found himself returning to his old habits now that he was home. He had done his own shaving while he was away, but after his bath he let his manservant scrape the stubble from his cheeks. And then he was assisted in dressing. As Clancy helped him into his shirt and started to do up the studs, Nate's mind came back to his impending meeting with his father. He swallowed a lump in his throat and found that his palms were sweaty.