Without warning, Jack was picked up and tossed into the arena. He landed hard in the dirt, jarring his shoulder on impact. The crowd gasped, then fell silent. Winded and hurting, Jack looked up. The two remaining dogs – another large mastiff and a muscular bulldog – halted their attacks on the bear and now glared at him, their jaws open, their fangs dripping with blood. The wounded bear pawed the ground, her great head turning towards the intruder in the pit.

‘He’s no dog!’ exclaimed the pit owner.

Rakesby shrugged. ‘What can I say? He’s the runt of the litter!’

Ever so slowly and carefully, Jack got to all fours. The two dogs stalked towards him, growling deep in their throats. In their frenzied bloodlust, they didn’t see a young man before them. They saw a young bear to rend and tear to pieces. A primeval fear seized Jack. The dogs sensed his weakness and closed in. At the last second, Jack made a dash for the arena wall. He threw himself up, clinging to the top of a wooden panel as the two dogs barked and snapped at his heels. However, as Jack tried to scramble to safety, Hazel met him with her dagger.

‘Oh, Jack! Don’t spoil the entertainment for everyone,’ she said with a smirk, and she brought the knife’s hilt down.

Pain flared through his fingers and he was forced to let go. As he fell back into the pit, the bulldog went for him – but Jack leapt aside. The dog hit the arena wall and was stunned – but now the mastiff was giving chase. Rakesby laughed, and the rest of the spectators joined in, as Jack sprinted for the opposite wall. Almost tripping over one of the dead dogs, Jack dodged round the frenzied bear. A huge paw, the size of a cannonball, lashed out at him and he was caught on the arm by the bear’s claws.

‘Watch out, Jack!’ Rakesby taunted gleefully.

On reaching the far side of the pit, Jack glanced back and saw the mastiff launch itself at him. He barely managed to get his arms up before the dog was upon him. They fell to the ground and wrestled in the dirt, the beast’s slobbering jaws snapping inches from his face.

As he continued trying to hold the mastiff off, Jack was vaguely aware that around him wagers were being laid on his survival. Given his dire situation, he didn’t put the odds much in his favour.

29: Bulldog

Jack had fought many enemies, but never a dog. The mastiff was relentless in its fury, its claws scrabbling at his chest as if digging for a bone. Blood soon soaked through Jack’s tattered shirt. Yet he grimly kept the dog’s slobbering head at bay. He had everything to fight for, not only his life but Jess’s safety too. He had to survive to rescue her from Sir Toby’s clutches.