Peregrine Harker & the Black Death by Luke Hollands

Author:Luke Hollands [Hollands, Luke]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Young adult, London, Adventure, Fiction
Publisher: Sparkling Books Limited
Published: 2013-05-03T16:28:15+00:00

TONIGHT’S

GRAND BOUT

THE CHAMPION

JOE PUMMLEDRUM

Vs

THE YOUNG CHALLENGER

PEREGRINE HARKER

8:30 P.M.

21. Anything goes

I had walked into a trap. How could I have been so careless? How had these fiends learned of Sir Magnus’s plans? Well it was no use crying over spilt milk, I had about five minutes before I was due to go toe-to-toe with one of the toughest, fiercest brawlers in the whole of London. I had to make good my escape. I dropped the lamp, plunging the room into darkness, and rushed straight for the open door, but just as I got to it, an unseen pair of hands threw it closed. I heard the rasp of bolts being drawn on the other side. Then from behind me there was another noise. It was the sound of the huge barn door opening. What I saw on the other side was utterly terrifying.

I was below ground level looking into a ring made of rickety wood panels. Around the ring, standing above me, was a crowd of fearsome looking men. A series of candle lamps poured gloomy light on their terrifying faces. But the real frightener was in the ring. It was Joe Pummledrum, waiting to give me a hiding. The man was at least seven feet tall. He was stripped to the waist, the candlelight glinting off a mountain of muscle. He was gesturing to the crowd, firing them up into a frenzy, his eyes wild with rage and his fists clenched, ready to fight. Next to him stood a man in a tattered suit, and battered bowler hat. It may have been gloomy and dark, but it didn’t take me long to realise he was one of the men from the Cutler Street warehouse who had thrown me into the coffin. My guess was he was the deep-voiced one with the crooked teeth. He must have caught wind of my visit and staged this little show to finish me off. So, the hunted had become the hunter. He was certainly exciting the crowd.

“And here he is gentlemen, here’s the boy who thinks he can take on our supreme champion, here’s the whelp who thinks he can ruin your bets, here’s the little urchin who thinks he can floor our mate Slugger Joe Pummledrum, but what do you think?”

With that the crowd began to jeer and bray, pointing and shaking their fists in my direction.

“Oh, look, the little lad’s shy,” cooed the man in the suit, walking towards me and dragging me into the middle of the ring. “Right, gents you know the rules. Anything goes, apart from kicking a man when he’s on the deck. And there’s no spitting, cursing or surrendering. The fight is over when there’s only one man standing.”

The crowd cheered at the man’s speech, their faces flushed red with beer and anger. The man in the suit walked over to a bell hanging in the corner of the ring.

“When the bell rings the fight begins, but first, shake hands.”

Slugger Joe lurched across the dusty, dirt floor of the ring, and stretched out a sweaty palm, the size of a dinner plate.

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