Barnaby returned to his suite very late that night, sure he had fully regained his composure. He'd spent the evening attending to as many "duties" as he could find elsewhere – meaning he had tucked himself away in an accounting room to go over some of the more recent books from the castle's stores. He'd run his finger along the columns, finding time and again that he hadn't tallied the figures, and each time returned to the top of the page to begin again.

As he approached his rooms, Barnaby groaned inwardly. Two heavily armed guards stood in the public corridor, flanking the door, which could only mean they had brought the demon here instead of taking it to the dungeons. Apparently he wouldn't be allowed to just ignore the creature. He stalked past them without a word, through his private study, through the empty indoor kennels - built into the castle, of the same heavy stone; the original occupant of the suite had obviously been a hunter. He exited at the far side (there was a guard there, too), into the gardens that housed his menagerie, walking past the outdoor pens and into the low stone shed set back against the garden's high, smooth wall.

There had previously been only one occupant here: a tiger brought in recently with another caravan. The huge cat was indoors now, pacing the length of the barred pen with its mouth held open to display impressive fangs. Barnaby ignored the animal, turning his attention to the other pen and the men gathered there.

Inside the pen, Rotwang leaned against the wall, arms crossed, conversing in a low voice with two other men. One, Barnaby recognized: Rotwang's unsavory lackey, Kelvin. The other, Barnaby assumed, must be Regus. Two castle guards flanked the door.

The vampire was between them. The bands around his arms and legs had been removed, but the creature's heavy iron shackles remained. The leg irons were connected by a very short chain, with longer leads on the cuffs around his wrists. These were, at present, threaded through iron rings newly set into one of the heavy timbers of the ceiling. The chains had been pulled tight by a winch (this was just installed, as well) housed on the outside of the pen, spreading the demon's arms taunt above his head and forcing him to stand in the center of the pen. The muzzle still encased the lower part of his face, the collar still encircled his throat, and his wings remained bound.

As Barnaby had dreaded, heart began to speed up when he looked into the creature's eyes, which were once again fixed on him. At least the effect wasn't nearly as pronounced as it had been in the court. Barnaby gritted his teeth and entered through the open pen door.

"Yer lordship -"

"Your Excellency," Barnaby growled.

"Right. Yer Excellency, I've to leave tomorrow, and I'm under the boss' orders to tell yous how to care for the monster here." He clapped the vampire on the back in what would have been a friendly manner, had the flesh there not been raw and weeping fluid from the wounds that graced it. The creature hissed, and Barnaby flinched, but he held his peace. The man would be gone soon; antagonizing him would do no good for the crown's relations with the sizable trading interest he represented.

"Go on," said Rotwang. "The three of us are here to learn together."

"Right then. First, the basics. What we got here is a killin' machine. Where we got it from, they learned that too late. Get careless, and yous'll find out th' same. Have yer men feed it," – another "friendly" slap, this time on the creature's abdomen – "but not so much that it gets too strong. It's best to keep it hungry. Once was I saw it eat a man's throat out, b'lieve you me."

Barnaby walked around the demon, careful not to get too close; he could see the lines of every bone on the demon's body; the merchant had kept it starving, not hungry.

"And what does the creature eat?" Barnaby queried quietly.

"'Twill thrive happily on naught but raw bits o' meat and water. Or blood."

The demon's eyes hadn't left Barnaby since the moment he entered the building. It was maddening.

"Can he speak? Does he understand us?"

"Oh, aye, yer Excellentness, but it knows not to try talkin'. First thing we taught'im. Now, let me show yous how this works, sous yer man there can handle the beast for you." He nodded to Kelvin, who smiled at Barnaby as he passed.

Regus retreated to the heavy cabinet that held the winch on the outside of the pen, and returned with a short length of iron shaped like a double-sided, two pronged fork. At his instruction, Kelvin exited the pen to lower the chains to allow a good two feet of slack. Regus kicked the vampire in the back of one knee, knocking him into a kneeling position, his arms again spread above him. The thug's smooth actions belied much practice.

At Regus' prompting, Kelvin pulled the demon's head back by the hair and held it there. Turning to Barnaby, Regus held the forked implement up.

"This lil' beauty is compliments o' the house, as we would hate for yer Excellence or his men to come to an... unfort'nate end." Reaching to the vampire's collar, he undid a small leather buckle at the front and slipped the strap through the ring at the center of the fork's shaft, causing one end to settle between the bones of the jaw and the other into soft flesh the base of the throat. Small beads of blood formed at the points of the instrument. As Regus refixed the buckle, Barnaby saw the instrument's purpose: the vampire was forced to keep his head thrown back to prevent the iron tines from sinking into his flesh. Kelvin released the demon's hair and stepped back to Rotwang's side.

"Now this next part, yous should only do when it needs feedin'. If yous could all gather close-in."

Barnaby didn't move.

"Your Excellency, I must insist you follow this man's instructions for the time being." Rotwang moved forward to grasp Barnaby's arm, but the young duke shook his arm off and strode forward on his own, trying to ignore his rising disgust.

Regus had pulled a bit of wire from his pocket and was pressing it into a recessed latch on the solid plate fronting the muzzle. The demon's eyes were pressed closed, his brows furrowed. What Barnaby could see when he drew nearer shouldn't have shocked him, after what he had seen of the vampire's condition, but Barnaby nevertheless took a step backwards.

Rotwang pulled the plate away, and with it came a bit that Barnaby wouldn't have inflicted on the most murderous animal. Better to kill it and be done. An inch wide and two inches long, the top and bottom of the metal plate were covered in short, razored spikes. The surface of the bit was slick with blood and saliva, and it dripped freely onto the dirt floor as Regus pulled it away.

"What the hell is that…?" Barnaby was suddenly grasping Regus' wrist in one hand, the other gathered in the man's shirt. Just as suddenly, arms pulled him roughly away and held him, and felt hot, stinking breath on his cheek as Kelvin whispered, "You don't want to be doing that, yer Excellency."

"Barnaby." Rotwang's eyes bored into Barnaby's. "You will be silent. You will observe. This man will finish his demonstration unmolested." He turned to Regus, who was smoothing down his shirt. "My apologies on behalf of the young duke. He is somewhat... sensitive."

"S'no harm done. As I were tryin' to say, there be no need to remove the muzzle for feedin. Yous can keep the creature trussed up like this and amuse yerself -" he took the skin from his belt, pressing the mouthpiece through the gap in the muzzle until the vampire parted his bloodied lips under the pressure. He lowered it, having given no water - "Or yous can jest take out th' bit, leave th' food, and let 'im down." His hand fished into another pocket, emerging with a few shreds of rotten meat, which he flung across the shed to the floor of the pen opposite. The tiger snuffed at it and turned away. "If you want the muzzle off so it ken tear into live prey or somelike, there's a key on the winch box. Up to yous." The man shrugged. "Not my problem no more." He tossed the bit of wire away, so that it landed on the box holding the winch, next to the key. "Them's the basics. Th' rest is easy enough."

"My good sir." Rotwang pulled a small purse from his black robe, and he handed it to the merchant's man. "Thank you for your advice this evening. I again apologize for the rudeness of your treatment. I expect you will respect the privacy of the... challenges... we face here. Please express to your master our sincere gratitude for his gifts. Depart this evening in peace."

"Oh, a'course." Regus tucked the purse away, wiped his hands on his shirt, and turned to Barnaby, a mocking grin on his face as he sketched a parody of a bow. "A last bit o' advice, lordship. Best cover the windows on this side before the morn."

Rotwang sighed as the man left. Why must I be the one to deal with this brat?

At his wave, Kelvin released Barnaby, who strode directly to Rotwang. "You bastard -" The slap rang through the shed, and Barnaby fell silent, the inside of his cheek stinging where he had involuntarily bitten it.

"Listen, boy! You are only tolerated here by the whim of your uncle. You will return to your chambers, immediately, and you will not leave until I send word that you are free to emerge. Kelvin, you will take care of this... creature... for the interim. Feed it. Find some rag to cover its nakedness. It offends me."

"Aye, I'll take care of it."

Rotwang sighed and turned to the guards, who remained statuesque at the door. "Assist his Excellency to his rooms."

They escorted the young duke out, and as Rotwand turned to follow, a sound stopped short of the door. It was so strained, so quiet, he almost couldn't make out the word.

"Please... "

Rotwang turned on his heel, walked past Kelvin into the pen, and grasped the vampire's hair. He pulled forward, hard, burying the spikes deep in the flesh of the creature's neck. He ignored the blood that spotted his dark robe as it spasmed, peering deep into amber eyes that were unfocused in agony.

"For whom are you pleading?"

He released his grip, turned again, and left Kelvin to his work.