Mark Chadbourn - The Silver Skull

"And that will be my next port of call. Once you are dead, and there is no one to trace this business to me."

"You will not escape so easily. You have woken the beast now." Will's hard smile only emphasised the weight of his words.

"Do you fear death?" Pickering asked sharply.

"There are worse things than death. I have seen them."

"Will?" The female voice drifted out from the back of the prisoners, quizzical and slightly dazed. Will recognised it immediately.

"Grace?" He instantly regretted showing any sign of recognition, for Pickering immediately snapped those black, unblinking eyes towards him, and Will got the impression that beneath the mask he was smirking.

Pickering motioned for the guards to allow Grace to come forwards. Throwing back her hood, her eyes glistened with tears. "I am sorry, Will. I persuaded Kit to tell me where you had gone. The Spanish knew you and I were friends and they followed me here." She appeared dazed.

"Did they hurt you?" Will asked.

"No ... no ... They thought they could offer me in exchange if you acquired the item for which they were searching, but then we were all taken."

"Let her go," Will said quietly.

Pickering didn't answer, but Will could see he had no intention of freeing Grace. No one who had witnessed the role Pickering played could be allowed to leave Alsatia.

"Free her now," Will continued, "or, God help me, you will pay a price far in excess of anything you plan to do to us."

"You are in no position to make demands." Basking in the adulation of the cheering mass of criminals, Pickering stood for a moment with his arms raised to the sky. "Is it time for our entertainment?" he called across the fair. The crowd bayed its response. "Is it time for good sport?" Howls now, feverish eyes gleaming in the torchlight. "Let us celebrate our good fortune. We are the masters here. We can do anything."

Hammering their cudgels on the cobbles as they pressed in on every side, the mob appeared on the brink of rushing forwards to tear the prisoners limb from limb. The crowd parted as Pickering walked towards them in a parody of stateliness. At a snap of his fingers, four guards lifted the wooden frame from its mountings, and Will and the others were paraded through the fair behind the Spanish prisoners. Missiles rained down from all sides and the noise of bloodlust became deafening. Fearful, Grace eased herself close to Will's side, her hands pressed together in prayer.

On the far side of the fair, Pickering led the procession up the steps of a circular wooden arena about twenty feet across. The crowd eased around the perimeter, resting against a fence. "It is time for you to shake hands with Hob!" Pickering announced with a theatrical flourish.

In the pit below was a large brown bear, blind in one eye, patches of fur missing and covered in scars. From its roars and wild flailing it appeared half mad at the pain that had been inflicted upon it. In the centre of the small arena was a post used to tether the beast with a chain, but the bear had been set to roam free.

Pickering took his seat in a high-backed chair behind a long wooden table. A plate of hot pork and a flagon of ale were quickly laid before him by eager hands, and then the crowd began to chant. "Hob! Hob!"

Will watched the bear crash around the pit, swatting at the taunting spectators just out of reach of its claws. "I have danced with some ferocious partners, but that is the worst, no doubt," he mused.

Pickering pointed to one of the Spanish prisoners. A guard cut the man loose and before the prisoner could protest he was thrown into the pit. With a terrifying savagery, the bear tore him apart in a matter of seconds. Inflamed by the blood, the crowd cheered loudly.

Regally, Pickering waved for a second Spanish prisoner to be tossed to his death. He went silently and defiantly, with a proud bow to the Spaniard who was clearly his leader.

Sobbing, the third prisoner pleaded in babbling Spanish. It amused Pickering for a while until he became frustrated by his inability to understand and gestured for the prisoner to be sacrificed. With a scream, the Spanish agent plunged into the whirl of snapping jaws and raking claws.

Grimly, Will watched the spectacle. The bear moved awkwardly, the result of an injury to its left back leg. The blind eye also hampered its movements.

"My time is being wasted! Commit me now before I die of boredom!" he called.

Falling silent, the crowd looked to Pickering. Under their scrutiny, he flinched, fearful of losing face. "I accept your offer," he responded quickly. "But the bear appears to be winning this bout. Shall we make more competition?" The crowd cheered its response.

As Will was released, Pickering ordered the final Spanish prisoner to be set free too. Rubbing his wrists, the prisoner approached Will and said, "Don Alanzo de las Posadas." He bowed.

"Will Swyfte."

Pausing, Don Alanzo fixed Will with a quizzical eye. "England's greatest spy?"

"If my assistant, Nathaniel, were here, he would have a quick reply. But I have been called worse names."

Don Alanzo bowed again. "And I am the world's greatest swordsman."

"And a spy too. We have much in common. Though I would be forced to challenge your title, in another place, at another time."

"For now, we are associates in battle." Don Alanzo turned to the bear pit. "Though I would have preferred more equal competition."

"We could give the bear a sword?" As he stepped towards the edge of the pit, Will whispered to Don Alanzo. "Stay on his left side."

Before Pickering's men could throw them in, Will and Don Alanzo jumped into the gore-splattered pit. In the enclosed space, the bear's roars were magnified, and the baying of the crowd faded into the background. The bear lunged with a massive swinging paw. Will ducked beneath it, the claws tearing chunks from the wooden planks covering the walls. Taking Will's advice, Don Alanzo danced into the bear's blind zone.

"Do you have a plan?" he called.

"Yes. Not to die."

"I expected something more detailed from someone with such an impressive reputation."

"Your patience will be amply rewarded." Will had a brief but shockingly evocative flash back more than a year to a snowy landscape and another bear threatening to end his life, but the image was lost as he fought to stay ahead of the claws.

The bear was fast, but its age and injuries had taken a toll on its stamina. Even so, Will's concealed sword was too small to cause any real harm to the beast, and he was afraid the weapon would only serve to enrage it further. Will and Don Alanzo continued to dart left, forcing the beast to flail around in a continual circle. Every time it attempted an attack, they put the central tethering post between them and the bear. Its frustration only made it waste more energy, and once again it began to lash out towards the crowd, who were hanging over the restraining fence, bellowing their frustration. Will caught sight of Pickering's beaked mask as he leaned forwards, his posture rigid. Will flashed a grin and bowed, which provoked Pickering to berate his guards angrily. They moved closer to the edge of the pit, but there was nothing they could do.

As they continued their baiting, Don Alanzo lost his footing in the grue and skidded into the bear's path. Driven into a frenzy by frustration, the bear roared and dropped its head low, throwing all its weight into a ferocious attack. Don Alanzo sprawled before it, unable to move.

Reacting instinctively, Will swung himself around the central pole and kicked both feet into the side of the bear's head. As it lumbered and half skidded in surprise, Will dragged Don Alanzo out of its path.

"Best not toy with him," Will said.

Barely had he scrambled halfway across the pit when the bear returned furiously, its jaws torn wide. Will flung himself to one side. The teeth snapped air a mere inch beyond his heel. Angered by Will's blow, the bear had found a new reserve of speed and strength, and it was all Will and Don Alanzo could do to keep away from its jaws and claws.