Blood Bounty: Chapter 3

    With her gelding dead, Ursa had to share Bear’s stallion the next morning as they continued to the Embassy.  They had to start out late morning because Ursa had insisted upon burying the corpses of the werewolves, much to the distaste of the Sikh and the annoyance of Bear.  But she saw that it was done, even going so far as to find straight sticks in the woods to fashion crosses out of.
    “I never knew you were so religious a woman,” Bear grumbled as he shovelled dirt.
    “I’m not,” she replied darkly, whittling the bottom of the cross into a sharp point.  “But I’m sure they believed in God, so why not at least let them lay in peace.”
    So, far behind them, deep within the forest, three large mounds with hastily made gravemarkers were the only things left behind.  Ursa was imagining them there silent and mysterious as she sat in front of Bear, his arms pressing against her sides as he held the horse’s reigns.  Of course, not paying attention meant she was nearly thrown when Bear stopped suddenly.
    “Careful there, sweetheart,” he chuckled at her.  “Wouldn’t want the Royal liaison falling down and breaking her crown on the hill above the Embassy.”
    Elbowing him in the side playfully, she looked out over the stallion’s head to see the building ahead of them.  The Sikh it seemed was eager to continue on as he went on by himself, letting Bear and Ursa trail behind.
    “You really don’t know anything about why I was sent for,” Bear asked, becoming increasingly uncomfortable as they approached the Embassy.
    Ursa shook her head, a bit of hair catching beneath his nose making him smile a little.  “Officials there are of the mind that women, especially women of dubious allegience like me, should not be privy to sensitive information.  It may ruin one’s delicate composure.”
    The last words were like acid dripping from her tongue, and Bear knew she was just as displeased to be there.  No doubt she was subject to much scrutiny by the more refined men and women that occupied the embassy.  His hand slid down her side soothingly as he kissed the back of her neck, pulling her tighter to him as they made their way down the hillside.  The Sikh had already dismounted and gone about his business as Ursa and Bear arrived at the stables.  The young stableboy looked up at Bear with a mixture of awe and fear as he dismounted and pulled Ursa down with him.  She ruffled his hair with a smirk and handed him the reigns.
    “Care to show me around the place, sweetheart,” Bear asked quietly.
    With a gentle smirk, Ursa shook her head.  “No, I’m to take you directly to my employer.  I’m sure he’ll see to you after that.”
    He made to protest, but her fingers ran gently against his bare forearm, sending a shiver across his skin.  She led him to a door in the back of the building which opened onto stairs that went up. On the next floor they found a doorman standing at attention.
    “Mistress Ursa,” the old fellow said with a jovial grin.  “I’m so glad you’ve returned.”
    “Stockton,” Ursa beamed hugging the man.  “To tell the truth, you and your wife are the only reason I enjoy coming back here.”
    Stockton shook his head, chuckling softly.  “Oh you mustn’t say such things, mistress.  You know Master Somerisle –“
    Suddenly, Ursa made a sharp movement of her head as if she’d been slapped, causing him to fall silent.  Bear took the awkward moment to clear his throat for attention.  The older man looked shocked at first, then gave a warm smile.
    “Forgive me, young man.  These old eyes somehow over looked you back there,” Stockton apologized.  “You must be the Sir Bear everyone goes on about in these parts.”
    Bear shook the offered hand.  “Well, I try not to make too much of a scene.”
    Stockton gave Ursa an approving nod and stepped through the door.  Once he was out of sight, Bear gave her a curious look.  “What was that all about?  And why did that Somerisle name upset you so?”
    “It’s nothing, Bear, really,” she shook her head nonchalantly.
    “Ursa,” he replied, putting his hands on her shoulders, not convinced by her tone.  Yet, she pulled away from him just as Stockton came back through the door.
    “Sir Somerisle will see you know,” he nodded to Bear.  Then he turned his attention to Ursa.  “You run along now, Mistress Ursa.  The missus is waiting for you in your rooms.”
    Before Bear walked into the room, Ursa grabbed his arm to stop him.  She stared at him softly a moment and he thought he saw a bit of longing there.  Kissing him on the cheek, Ursa went off down the corridor.  He took a deep breath and followed Stockton’s lead into the room.
    He found himself in a cozy little study, bookshelves lining every wall with spaces for a few windows and doors.  There was a dark lacquered desk carved with ornate webs and spiders as decorations; large overstuffed chairs set up in front of it.
    “Have a seat, please,” Stockton said politely.  “Sir Somerisle will be here shortly.”
    Then the older man left Bear alone.  Unaccustomed to standing still indoors, Bear made his way around the room.  He discovered the theme of arachnids ran through out the room.  In truth behind the desk, he noticed two small glass boxes housing rather large taratulas that seemed to be lying in wait.  Bear watched almost disgusted as a cricket in one cage came too close to the motionless spider.  The tarantula pounced on the insect and quickly sank its fangs in.
    “Fascinating isn’t it,” a voice said behind him.
    A bit startled, but and expert in not showing it, Bear turned around to see a rather scrawny looking man in very fancy clothing.  “Yes, I’d have to agree with you there.”
    “Sir Herbert Somerisle, of Her Majesty’s Intelligence Service,” the man bowed slightly.  “Spiders are a bit of a hobby of mine Mister Bear.”
    “Bear will do just fine, Sir Somerisle,” was the terse response.
    The nobleman persed his lips a bit, almost disdainfully and motioned to a chair.  “Please take a seat.  Would like something to drink before we discuss business?”
    “I’m quite all right, Sir. Just let’s get on with it.”
    “Very well then,” Somerisle stepped behind the desk and took a seat in the leather chair.  “I’ve had the lovely Miss Ursa bring you here for a very special job.  You see, a priceless trinket, a bit of a family heirloom you could say, was stolen from my late father’s estate a few months ago.  It is invaluable to me and I would like you to retrieve it and the man who stole it.”
    Bear nodded in understanding.  “Of course Sir Somerisle, there is the matter of my fee.”
    “Trust me, money is no object,” he replied with a haughty air.
    “Then there are a few conditions that must be met,” Bear smiled in mock cordiality.
    “Name them,” the nobleman nodded.
    “For starters, I will require new, strong horses for the journey,” Bear stroked his whiskered chin thoughtfully.  “Also, access to any and all of the weapons you keep stored here.”
    “Neither of those will be a problem,” Somerisle answered.  “Is there anything else you wish?”
    “Just one more thing, Sir,” Bear replied, a small grin touching his lips.  “I will require Ursa as a partner.”
    Somerisle’s face soured then, and Bear thought for a moment that he may explode in anger.  But the nobleman seemed to calm down as he gave a grave sigh.  “That I’m afraid could pose a problem.”
    Confused about Somerisle’s reaction, Bear asked “Why is that?  She’s one of the best huntresses that ever graced the earth.”
    The nobleman waved off the question and clucked his tongue.  “Never mind that at the moment.  For now, I’d like you to rest.  I’m expecting you to join us this evening at a gala I’m throwing here at the embassy.”
    “Forgive me, Sir,” Bear frowned.  “But I’m not one for parties.”
    Waving his hand again, and further annoying Bear, Somerisle persisted.  “I must insist you join us.  I’m hoping to announce to the high-societal guests my intent to marry.”
    “Well, I’m very happy for you,” Bear practically mocked as he stood and headed for the corridor.  On a whim, he turned back as he reached the opened door and asked “Who’s the lucky young lady?”
    Clucking his tongue again, Somerisle replied “That is where our problem lies, Bear.”
    “I beg your pardon,” Bear remarked, cocking his head in confusion.
    A deep sigh left the nobleman’s lips.  “Well, you see, the woman I intend to marry is the same woman you wish to accompany you on your latest mission.”