Read Online The Illustrated Gormenghast Trilogy by Mervyn Peake - Free Book Online Page A

quite as sullen as himself. Mr Flay bit his nails sourly. He had been at the window for a much longer time than he had intended and he turned with his shoulders raised, an attitude typical of him and saw young Steerpike, whose presence he had forgotten. He strode over to the boy and catching him by his coat-tails jerked him backwards into the centre of the room. The great picture swung back across the spy-hole.
    ‘Now,’ he said, ‘back! You’ve seen her door, Swelter’s boy.’
    Steerpike, who had been lost in the world beyond the oak partition, was dazed, and took a moment to come to.
    ‘Back to that loathsome chef?’ he cried at last, ‘oh no! couldn’t!’
    ‘Too busy to have you here,’ said Flay, ‘too busy, can’t wait.’
    ‘He’s ugly,’ said Steerpike fiercely.
    ‘Who?’ said Flay. ‘Don’t stop here talking.’
    ‘Oh so ugly, he is. Lord Groan said so. The doctor said so. Ugh! So hideous.’
    ‘Who’s hideous, you kitchen thing,’ said Flay, jerking his head forward grotesquely.

     
    ‘Who?’ said Steerpike. ‘The baby. The new baby. They both said so. Most terrible he is.’
    ‘What’s this?’ cried Flay. ‘What’s these lies all about? Who’ve you heard talking? Who’ve you been listening to? I’ll tear your little ears off, you snippet thing! Where’ve you been? Come here!’
    Steerpike, who had determined to escape from the Great Kitchen, was now bent on finding an occupation among those apartments where he might pry into the affairs of those above him.
    ‘If I go back to Swelter I’ll tell him and all of them what I heard his lordship say and then …’
    ‘Come here!’ said Flay between his teeth, ‘come here or I’ll break your bones. Been agaping, have you? I’ll fix you.’ Flay propelled Steerpike through the entrance at a great pace and halted halfway down a narrow passage before a door. This he unlocked with one of his many keys and thrusting Steerpike inside turned it upon the boy.

‘TALLOW AND BIRDSEED’
    Like a vast spider suspended by a metal chord, a candelabrum presided over the room nine feet above the floorboards. From its sweeping arms of iron, long stalactites of wax lowered their pale spilths drip by drip, drip by drip. A rough table with a drawer half open, which appeared to be full of birdseed, was in such a position below the iron spider that a cone of tallow was mounting by degrees at one corner into a lambent pyramid the size of a hat.
    The room was untidy to the extent of being a shambles. Everything had the appearance of being put aside for the moment. Even the bed was at an angle, slanting away from the wall and crying out to be pushed back flush against the red wallpaper. As the candles guttered or flared, so the shadows moved from side to side, or up and down the wall, and with those movements behind the bed there swayed the shadows of four birds. Between them vacillated an enormous head. This umbrage was cast by her ladyship, the seventy-sixth Countess of Groan. She was propped against several pillows and a black shawl was draped around her shoulders. Her hair, a very dark red colour of great lustre, appeared to have been left suddenly while being woven into a knotted structure on the top of her head. Thick coils still fell about her shoulders, or clustered upon the pillows like burning snakes.
    Her eyes were of the pale green that is common among cats. They were large eyes, yet seemed, in proportion to the pale area of her face, to be small. The nose was big enough to appear so in spite of the expanse that surrounded it. The effect which she produced was one of bulk, although only her head, neck, shoulders and arms could be seen above the bedclothes.
    A magpie moving sideways up and down her left forearm, which lay supine upon the bedclothes, pecked intermittently at a heap of grain which lay in the palm of her hand. On her shoulders sat a stonechat, and a huge raven which was asleep. The bed-rail boasted two starlings, a missel-thrush