Chapter Text
Prologue
The stables were tucked away in the corner of Mayfair, where the smell radiated and stuck in the nose hours after encountering it. The ton would not tolerate it in the middle of the city. These were not horses of high pedigree. Rather, these were workhorses. The Clydesdales stood passively in the dark, flicking their ears and haunches as flies landed and bit. The stables were poorly kept, and the horses were near emaciated.
The aristocracy did not buy these horses. These were meant for the underclasses. Henry, the fourteen-year-old stablehand, was four hours late mucking the stall. He sighed, grabbing his shovel as the sun set. He whistled and began to work, wiping his brow as sweat gathered. He moved the draft horses and tied them to a post. As he started late, they were more reluctant to move.
“Oi! Get up! Get up now!” his squeaky voice shouted in the darkness. The urine had seeped deep into the hay, and his boots grew clotted with muck as he went through each stall. Replenishing the hay was easy enough, but he had forgotten his work gloves.
“Ay!” he yelped, feeling the hay prick his fingers. He was working fast, and his hands were growing red and irritated. He reached into the pile, pulling strands, where the familiar burn turned into a sharp, agonizing pain.
A rat appeared from the hay, ribs jutting out. Its eyes were leaking a white, oozing substance. Drool pooled in the corners of his mouth. Henry gasped and waved his hands, shooing the rat away. The rat squeaked and stumbled awkwardly to the entrance of the stables.
Henry looked at his angry red wound. “Pa is going to kill me! Oh…best not say anythin’”
As Henry continued working, the rat convulsed near the stable doors. It lay on its side, breathing heavily, and its eyes rolled back. The squeaks around the barn intensified.