‘It was the longest night of Ugo’s life. His eyes were stinging and he felt as if the filth was seeping into him, into his nose, his throat, the pores of his skin. He tried to keep his hands above the surface, holding them in the air, like this.’ Zoltan mimed the action, a look of terrible disgust on his face, enjoying the story. ‘But he was too tired, the effort was too great and over and over again his eyes fell shut and he was woken as his hands dropped into the thick slime.’

Zoltan laughed and pretended to wipe his hands on his tunic.

‘What happened in the end?’ said James.

‘The soldiers went away and they could at last come out. But not Colombo. At some point in the night he had quietly slipped beneath the stinking layer of scum and drowned.

‘The other three must have been a ghastly sight, covered from head to toe in green and yellow muck.’

‘That’s disgusting,’ said James.

‘Quite so,’ said Zoltan, glancing at Ugo. ‘They stripped off their clothes and found a shower that was working. Ugo stayed there for ages, scrubbing his body until it was raw and bleeding. Even now, all these years later, he bathes at least four times a day.’

‘What a horrible story,’ said James, who suddenly felt dirty himself.

‘But it’s not the end,’ said Zoltan, ‘because as they were standing there, naked, two enemy soldiers came in. It was hard to tell who was more surprised and there was madness as the Sardinians rushed to grab their guns.’ Zoltan sighed. ‘Scared men do not shoot straight,’ he said. ‘There was a quick burst of panicked firing, after which two more men lay dead. One of the enemy and one of the Sardinians.

‘It was a stalemate. Ugo was without a weapon. His brother Guido and the enemy soldier standing there, pointing their guns at each other.’ Zoltan stopped and inspected James’s gloves. ‘You are ready,’ he said.

‘Wait,’ James protested. ‘You can’t stop there. What happened?’

‘I will tell you the rest of the story another day,’ said Zoltan. ‘You have a boy to fight.’

‘No, tell me,’ said James, but just then the room was filled with the reek of perfume and Countess Jana came in, her high heels clicking on the polished floor. She looked the two boys up and down and licked her lips.

‘What strong boys you are,’ she said. ‘I hope your pretty faces don’t get too badly broken.’ She slipped a silver ring off her finger.

‘This ring to the winner,’ she said.

The roar of the crowds as James marched out into the sunlight was deafening. He had wondered before if Ugo was going to stage a gladiatorial combat, but he had had no idea that he would be one of the gladiators.