There was the sound of splashing and running water. James assumed it must be a waterfall, but, as they rounded a corner, he saw a waste pipe sticking out of the rock face and dirty brown water pouring out of it. The water fell into a pool, and then meandered off haphazardly into a series of stagnant ponds and puddles.

They were in a sort of natural basin where a grove of cork oaks stood. James could see where their bark had been stripped in the past, but they were dying now, drowned by the water from Ugo’s waste pipe. Other, unidentifiable, stunted plants with blackish leaves stuck out of the dark swamp. It was hard to tell which were living and which were dead. There was the general reek of rotting cabbage from a stinking gas that hung in the still air and caught in the back of James’s throat.

In the centre of the basin was a sort of island with a few sick-looking juniper bushes and a dead tree on it. Ugo was waiting for them here with Jana and Peter Haight.

A girl was holding a large sunshade over the Count, who was sitting in a folding chair. A second girl kept him cool with a fan. He was wearing knee-length, highly polished black boots with his white outfit and held a handkerchief over his mouth and nose to keep out the worst of the foul air.

‘Ah, James,’ he said. ‘How good of you to join us.’

One of his handmaidens shooed a persistent fly away with a whisk.

All around was the whine of mosquitoes and James caught one feeding on his arm. He swatted it, and, with some satisfaction, he saw a red blotch where it had been squashed to pulp on his skin.

‘They are a nuisance, aren’t they?’ lisped Ugo, his silver tooth winking from the shadows under the sunshade. ‘We have done our best to get rid of them, but they are a tough enemy and they never give up. Now, James, before we start, would you like to tell us who helped you last night, then we can take you back to the palazzo, give you some clean clothes, a warm bath and a hot meal.’

Right then it was the nicest offer James had ever had, but he said nothing and simply stared at Ugo.

‘No?’ said Ugo. ‘That is good. Otherwise it would have deprived us of our sport.’

‘It doesn’t sound much like sport to me,’ said James. ‘Tying me down to be eaten by something.’

‘It is a blood sport,’ said Ugo, and Jana laughed.

‘Do you know what it is, yet?’ she drawled. ‘The deadliest animal in the world?’

James swatted a mosquito on his wrist. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I know.’ He held up his bloody palm.