Chapter Eleven #2
“I plan to use my seat in the House of Lords to advocate for a ban on animal bloodsport,” Eoin said as he continued his descent into the cacophony of sounds. “I’ve dreamed of championing such a law ever since I read a Willoughby Wright essay on cockfights.”
“Willoughby Wright? I’ve never heard of him,” Hannah said, and Eoin realized that she had no idea that her cousin was the author of cutting satires.
But he had no time to consider the revelation as he finally set his foot on the ground.
Immediately, a great rattle exploded next to his right ear.
Eoin turned swiftly and found himself facing a large, massive paw.
His customary calmness fled. Yelping, he surged forward.
In mid-leap, he realized belatedly that his dodge could potentially leave Hannah vulnerable.
He tried to halt his jump, which resulted in a rather awkward pirouette.
Somehow, he managed to land upright with his massive frame still shielding Hannah but with his face tilted away from the bear.
Breathing heavily, he felt Hannah’s warmth as she once again peered over him from her vantage point on the steps. To his shock, Hannah gently patted Eoin’s shoulder instead of gripping him in terror.
“Poor bear. It’s in such a small cage.” Hannah clucked her tongue. “I must tell Matthew about the dear creature.”
Although Eoin was most assuredly against any form of animal bloodsport, he was not particularly ready to call the owner of that lethal paw a “dear creature.” However, Hannah’s statement did cause his pounding heart to slow… a fraction.
“The beast is restrained?” Eoin cautiously swiveled, his hands raised in rather useless fists. Even with his bulk, he highly doubted that he would win a boxing match against a bruin.
“Yes. It can reach through the bars but not far.”
Sure enough, a scarred and scruffy bear was staring through wrought iron rods. Its dark gaze seemed aimed not at Eoin but at a point above his head. Eoin’s blood started flowing madly as his muscles tensed even more. Was the animal fixated on Hannah?
“Not dinner! Not dinner!” Pan screeched.
Hannah reached up to calm her pet. “It does seem rather focused on Pan. We should move quickly. I don’t want to taunt the poor dear.”
“Not dinner! Not dinner!” Pan repeated.
As a degree of calm returned to Eoin, he marveled at Hannah’s innate compassion. Where others only saw its massive size and enormous paws, she observed the bear’s pain.
Calmer now, Eoin studied the animal. Bits of its fur were missing, and healed gashes marred its muzzle. Although its feet were about the size of Eoin’s face, the vicious claws had been filed down. Its teeth had likely received the same treatment.
“Ursus,” Eoin said as the sentry’s words replayed in his mind. “This is who the guard was referring to when he said that Pan might not be welcomed.”
“Not dinner!” the parrot screeched again.
“Why don’t you walk on the other side of me when we pass Ursus,” Eoin suggested. “It might calm both bear and bird—or at least not excite them more.”
“I’m happy for you to play the gallant gentleman this time,” Hannah admitted as she again reached up to stroke her pet.
Eoin nodded, not wanting to admit that he also wished to protect her.
There was likely no danger, but it was still unsettling to pass so close to a predator.
Eoin wished he could sling his arm around Hannah’s shoulder and curl his form over her smaller one, but he had no idea if someone was watching them in this dark corridor.
Such a gentlemanly gesture could damage Hannah’s disguise as a lad.
Moreover, Eoin didn’t want to trample her independence.
In many ways, she was more capable than him of defending herself in London’s underbelly.
Ursus thumped his big body against the bars as they rushed by. Roaring his displeasure, he stomped his feet. The dirt floor shook under the beast’s impotent rage, but the cage otherwise held firm.
“It’s telling that this establishment forces its patrons to pass by Ursus,” Eoin said.
“Not dinner!” Pan flapped his lime-green wings. Thankfully, the ornery bird didn’t take flight. It seemed even he could be cowed.
“The bear is definitely a warning,” Hannah agreed, her voice so low and dark that Eoin had to bend even more to hear. The cries from the bowels of the Horse and Hen had grown louder. Their frenzied tone worried Eoin even more than the trapped bear to his side.
As soon as they passed Ursus, Pan—the cheeky imp—swiveled his head so that he faced back toward the bear. With his one beady eye fixed on the bruin, the parrot opened his gray mouth wide and then roared.
Ursus, however, was not impressed by the mimicry. He snarled, but that only seemed to amuse Pan, who danced happily on Hannah’s shoulder.
“Shhh!” Hannah admonished. “Don’t torment Ursus.”
“How does a parrot sound so much like a bear?” Eoin asked, trying to focus on anything but his own mess of misgivings.
Hannah sighed. “He’s visited my friend’s menagerie and has listened to the bears and the resident lion. Pan discovered that his mock-roaring annoys Sophia and me, so the little devil likes to repeat the sounds.”
As if to prove Hannah’s statement, Pan bellowed even louder.
The sound bounced around the narrow space that they were traversing.
The passage seemed to be a purposefully squashed affair—with a crude wall to the right and the building’s foundation on the left.
It reminded Eoin of a castle’s narrow circular staircase—a structure designed to make an invasion difficult.
Were the owners of the Horse and Hen expecting an attack? And why?
An incongruously pleasant glow beckoned at the end of the torch-lit hallway, yet part of Eoin wanted to stay in the darkness with the snarling beast. He didn’t know what he would discover in that light, and what it would mean about the fate of his mother and his sister.
A cool hand briefly touched his, and Eoin turned to find Hannah smiling at him. “I will stay by your side, Eoin. No matter what we learn.”
Eoin swallowed as a bolt of warm emotion slammed into his heart. Since childhood, Eoin had faced everything alone. Yet leaning on Hannah, trusting her, came easily. Perhaps too easily.
Eoin couldn’t help but give her fingers a quick nudge back. Then he drew in his breath and marched in lockstep with the woman beside him.