Romulus Buckle and the Luminiferous Aether by Richard Ellis Preston Jr

Author:Richard Ellis Preston Jr [Preston, Richard Ellis Jr]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2015-12-22T05:00:00+00:00

XXVI

THE KETTLECRAB IS A TERRIBLE DISH

Philo and three other servants took hold of the dining table and hauled it away with one practiced heave. Marius retrieved his helmet from the table as they passed. The remains of the eviscerated orphanfish and its surrounding stacks of lobsters vanished through the wide kitchen doorway, the creaking of the doors the only sound in the room afterwards. Buckle glanced at the Vicar and Odessa—it was odd to no longer have the broad table between them, now replaced by open space.

The Vicar stood from his bench, Odessa immediately standing with him. “Perhaps we Founders should take our leave. I have no desire to witness petty internal squabbles.”

“Sit down!” Octavian shouted.

The Vicar and Sabrina remained standing.

“Sit down,” Octavian repeated, this time with less volume but more poison.

“I do not take orders from you, First Consul,” the Vicar replied.

“You shall obey me as you sup at my table and find yourself implicated in a conspiracy against me and my house,” Octavian growled. “This is far from over, negotiator.”

The Vicar seemed to grow larger, more ominous. “I assure you, First Consul, that the Founders need not connive in shadows with pipsqueaks in order to make House Aventine do our bidding.” He motioned toward the windows. “Have you not seen our mighty submersible fleet? If we wish we would crack your domes open like rotten eggs and be done with it.”

“If you think I would believe one word spilling from your silver-tongued mouth you sorely underestimate my intelligence, Vicar,” Octavian said.

Odessa grabbed the hilt of her sword but a wave of the Vicar’s big hand stilled her. “If you wish to make these negotiations unpleasant, Octavian,” the Vicar said with measured cool, “things will go badly only for you.”

Marius leaned into Octavian’s ear but Buckle heard his whispers; “Be careful, First Consul, of whom you openly impugn,” Marius said.

Octavian, his jaw working, glared at the Vicar.

The kitchen doors banged open as Philo and the three servants, all wearing ornate silver face masks and black rubber gloves pulled up to the elbows, carried another big table—this one with a fine white tablecloth—into the room. As the table was inserted into the midst of the benches Buckle saw it was empty except for a large black cauldron, boiling hot from the fire, resting on an ornate copper trivet, its contents hidden under a heavy cast iron lid.

Buckle placed his hands on the table and he suddenly felt odd, almost buzzing sensation. His fingertips tingled and the hair on his arms stood on end.

Titus gasped.

“The kettlecrab,” Belarius whispered, his voice shaking. “The kettlecrab.”

“Yes, the kettlecrab,” Octavian announced. “The traitor’s favorite dish.”

“This, this is assassination,” Titus mumbled, as if he could not believe what was happening. “The Assembly shall not stand for this, this infamy and coercion.”

Octavian nodded to Marius, who lifted the lid of the cauldron. Inside a blood-red soup bubbled and steamed. Buckle saw things swirling within it—slithering, snake-like things. A head popped up from the greasy liquid—a cobra-like, dark

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