gns.cannibalcult-第9章

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　eat　a　horse；　as　the　English　saying　goes。'
　　
　　'I　doubt　very　much　whether　horse　flesh　will　be　on　the　menu　tonight；'　she　smiled　faintly　in　the　darkness　and　squeezed　his　hand。　Her　fingers　were　icy　cold。
　　
　　The　dining…room　was　much　as　Sabat　had　anticipated；　a　low…ceiling　room　which　was　dominated　by　a　long　scrubbed　pine　table　at　which　a　dozen　or　so　people　were　already　seated。　Sabat　scrutinised　them　in　one　glance；　his　trained　mind　mentally　photographing　every　detail　which　he　would　be　able　to　recall　later　if　necessary。　Hippies；　men　and　girls；　an　odd　assortment　of　cosmopolitan　drop…outs　who　scarcely　looked　up　at　the　new　arrivals。　They　were　probably　used　to　frequent　ings　and　goings；　they　lived　their　own　lives　and　didn't　bother　about　anybody　else。
　　
　　Through　a　hatch　which　led　off　into　an　adjacent　kitchen；　Sabat　caught　a　glimpse　of　Andre　clad　in　grubby　white　overalls；　ladling　some　kind　of　thick　dark　soup　into　bowls。
　　
　　These　must　be　our　places；'　Sabat　motioned　towards　the　head　of　the　table。　They　were　obviously　intended　to　sit　on　either　side　of　Andre　Schmid　when　he　came　through　to　join　them。
　　
　　'Wele；　my　friends。'　Andre　appeared；　so　agile　in　parison　to　his　earlier　slothful　shuffle；　balancing　bowls　of　soup　on　a　tray；　setting　it　down　without　spilling　so　much　as　a　drop。　'The　food　here　is　the　best　in　Lucerne；　nay　in　Switzerland。　Whatever　our　other　short…ings；　Sabat；　we　pride　ourselves　that　we　eat　well。　Pray　start；　don't　let　your　soup　go　cold。　Like　coffee；　it　is　insipid　unless　it　is　piping　hot。'
　　
　　Sabat　felt　strangely　unfortable　for　a　variety　of　reasons。　No　way　did　he　fit　in　here　amidst　this　strange　assembly。　Yet　they　didn't　seem　to　notice；　glancing　neither　at　himself　nor　Madeleine；　a　buzz　of　low　muttered　conversation　passing　amongst　themselves；　drinking　their　soup　noisily。
　　
　　Schmid　finished　his　soup；　clanged　his　spoon　down　noisily　in　the　bowl　and　wiped　his　mouth　with　the　back　of　his　hand。
　　
　　'The　trouble　with　you　English；　Sabat；'　there　was　a　faint　smirk　on　his　thick　lips；　'is　that　you're　too　conventional　as　far　as　food　is　concerned。　Unadventurous。　I　holidayed　in　England　once。　Mon　Dieu；　the　food　was　terrible；　plain　and　badly　cooked　at　that。　But　perhaps　you　are　different。　Tell　me；　did　you　recognise　any　particular　flavour　in　the　soup　which　you　have　just　drunk？'
　　
　　'Indeed　I　did；'　Sabat　smiled　but　his　eyes　were　as　hard　as　chips　of　Welsh　slate。　'Garlic　predominated。　Some　frey　and　fennel　and　pearl　barley　as　well。'
　　
　　'Excellent！'　Andre　Schmid　clapped　his　fat　hands　together　making　a　noise　like　a　fillet　of　wet　plaice　falling　on　a　stone　floor。　'But。。。　nothing　else　。。。　the　main　ingredient？'
　　
　　'Meat　of　some　kind；'　Sabat's　stare　was　searching　the　other　out；　finding　nothing。　'It　would　be　impossible　to　tell；　though；　because　the　garlic　was　designed；〃　I　am　almost　certain；　to　disguise　the　taste　of　the　meat。'
　　
　　Andre　Schmid's　small　eyes　narrowed　balefully。　Then　he　laughed；　a　strange　guttural　sound　that　reminded　Sabat　instantly　of　his　brother　Quentin。　Himself！　Then　perhaps　when　you　have　sampled　the　main　course　you　will　be　able　to　identify　the　particular　meat。　Again　it　is　garnished　with　herbs；　but　not　so　heavily　as　the　soup。　Tell　me；　Sabat；　what　is　your　favourite　meat？'
　　
　　'I　don't　have　any　favourite。'　The　reply　was　staccato；　a　duel　with　words　that　was　developing　into　vicious　rapier　thrusts。　'Most　of　the　time　I　am　a　vegetarian。'
　　
　　'A　vegetarian！'　Schmid　laughed　loud；　a　booming　sound　that　was　mirthless；　had　heads　suddenly　turning　in　his　direction　then　looking　away　again　as　though　embarrassed　that　they　had　been　eavesdropping　on　the　mune　leader's　conversation。　'Man　Dieu！　How　absolutely　abominable。　No　wonder　you　have　been　seriously　ill。　Lack　of　protein；　waning　physical　strength。　Man　was　designed　to　eat　meat。　Unfortunately　through　the　process　of　evolution　we　have　lost　curability；　or　should　we　say　our　stomachs；　for　raw　flesh。　Not　all　of　us；　though；　I　hasten　to　assure　you。　These　people　you　see　here　have　all　sampled　uncooked　meat　and　are　all　the　healthier　for　it。　However；　tonight；　in　deference　to　our　guests；　I　have　cooked　the　joint　personally。　It　is　rare　meat；　juicy　with　blood；　yet　it　has　been　cooked。'
　　
　　'It's　a　fallacy　that　we　need　to　eat　meat。'　Twin　red　spots　appeared　on　Sabat's　cheeks；　a　sign　that　the　other　was　beginning　to　anger　him。　'As　a　species　we　are　not　carnivores。　I　myself　eat　meat　occasionally　because　convention　demands　it　and　I　am　loath　to　offend　a　host。　But　my　own　recipe　for　health　and　fitness　is　an　abstention　wherever　possible　from　white　flour；　white　sugar；　all　fats　and　red　meat。'
　　
　　'You're　mad！'　Andre　Schmid　leaped　to　his　feet；　sending　his　chair　toppling　over。　'Meat　is　the　source　of　life　and　under　this　roof　everyone　shall　eat　it。　Including　you；　Sabat''
　　
　　'As　I　have　already　said；'　Sabat　was　outwardly　unmoved；　'I　am　loath　to　offend　a　host。　Serve　up　your　meat　and　I　shall　eat　it。'
　　
　　'And　so　you　shall！'　Once　again　the　other　moved　with　surprising　spriteliness；　rushing　through　the　door　into　the　kitchen。　Dishes　were　banged　angrily；　an　oven　door　slammed。
　　
　　'There　was　no　need　to　be　so　rude；'　Madeleine　spoke　in　sharp　whispered　tones。　'We　are　guests　here；　Sabat；　and　my　whole　future　depends　upon　Andre's　hospitality　towards　us。'
　　
　　'Possibly；'　Sabat　replied；　'but　the　more　I　see　of　this　set…up　here；　the　less　I　like　it。　These　people　are　like　mindless　morons。'　He　refrained　from　adding　'zombies*。
　　
　　'Nevertheless；　we　must　tolerate　them；'　she　said。
　　
　　They　lapsed　into　silence　as　Andre　Schmid　returned　carrying　a　tray　loaded　with　steaming　plates。　He　proceeded　to　serve　the　others；　then　went　back　into　the　kitchen　and　fetched　three　more　meals　which　he　laid　before　his　guests　and　himself。　Sabat　stared　at　his　food　intently：　sliced　meat　of　some　kind；　a　heavy　texture　that　oozed　blood。　He　likened　it　to　pork　sparingly　cooked；　vegetables　mixed　with　green　pasta。　His　nostrils　wrinkled　at　the　pungent　odour　which　came　from　it。　An　acquired　taste；　definitely；　but　he　could　eat　most　foods　when　forced　to　do　so　rather　than　offend　a　host；　but　that　gnawing　hunger　was　gone　from　his　stomach。
　　
　　'I　think　you　will　agree；　Sabat；'　Schmid　was　smiling；　his　recent　outburst　seemingly　forgotten；　'that　this　dish　is　good　enough　to　convert　the　most　devout　vegetarian　to　eating　the　occasional　meat　dish。'
　　
　　Madeleine　Gaufridi　was　eating　ravenously；　her　whole　attention　centred　on　the　food　before　her。　Sabat　cut　a　piece　of　meat　with　his　knife；　speared　it　with　his　fork　and　lifted　it　slowly　towards　his　mouth；　fought　offa　momentary　wave　of　revulsion。　There　was　something　dreadfully　wrong。
　　
　　He　chewed　on　a　mouthful；　it　was　exceptionally　tender；　easily　swallowed；　left　a　faint　tang　on　his　palate。　Garlic　。。。　and　something　else　which　he　could　not　identify。
　　
　　He　ate　steadily。　In　some　ways　the　flesh　was　reminiscent　of　pork；　heavier　though；　a　texture　more　like　roast　beef。　Not　wholly　unpleasant；　but　not　in　keeping　with　his　customary　vegetarian　diet。　He　transferred　his　thoughts　to　other　matters；　eating　mechanically；　SAS　training　for　times　when　food　was　not　readily　available　and　it　was　necessary　to　eat　something　not　normally　acceptable　to　the　human　digestive　system。
　　
　　Andre　Schmid　wiped　his　plate　clean　with　a　piece　of　bread；　belched　loudly　and　patted　his　stomach。　〃Well；　Sabat；　and　what　did　you　think　of　our　main　course；　eh？'
　　
　　Sabat　laid　down　his　knife　and　fork；　pursed　his　lips。　'Unusual；'　he　muttered；　'and　I　must　confess　I　am　still　unable　to　identify　the　meat　although　it　was　the　same　as　that　in　the　broth。'
　　
　　'You　are　right。'　The　other's　eyes　narrowed　and　his　gaze　switched　to　the　girl　seated　on　his　right；　'But　I　am　sure　Madeleine　is　familiar　with　our　meat。　She　has　eaten　it　before　and　will　eat　it　many　times　in　the　future　now　that　she　has　rejoined　us。'
　　
　　'Rejoined　you！'　Sabat　glanced　at　Madeleine　Gaufridi；　noted　the　supercilious　smile　which　twitched　her　deep　red　lips。　Now　she　looked　so　much　older；　so　much　more　confident；　no　longer　the　innocent　convent　girl　on　the　run　from　the　wrath　of　her　parents。
　　
　　'Of　course；'　Schmid　laughed　harshly；　'she　has　stayed　with　us　before；　haven't　you　Mad