‘No. I know a way,’ said James. ‘Now listen. Zoltan is planning some sort of attack. If I can get there before him, free Amy and be ready, we might be able to get out while everyone else is distracted by the fighting.’

Stefano thought about this in silence for a while, but at last he seemed to make up his mind. ‘Zoltan does not know the way back,’ he said. ‘It is easy to get lost in the mountains. I will take him, but I will go a long way round. Someone else will take you to the aqueduct by a quicker path.’

James smiled at his friend. ‘Thank you, Stefano,’ he said.

Stefano clasped him and gave him a hug. ‘You are a brave boy, James,’ he said. ‘It will be an honour to die at your side!’

‘I hope it won’t come to that,’ said James.

That evening, as James fixed a mosquito net up under a tree, he listened to the dull murmur of voices from the cave as the men prepared for the attack in the morning.

Zoltan’s plan was to hit the palazzo at first light. If James wanted to get there before him, he would have to leave in a couple of hours, so he needed to rest now if he could.

He doubted that he would sleep. He had been too close to death lately, and tomorrow there would likely be more killing.

He was sick of it. He wanted it to be over.

But he couldn’t leave Amy there.

He had made her a promise.

With a knot of tension in his stomach he watched as the bright blue of the sky dulled to violet, then to purple and finally to black. The racket of insects filled the night. Since his experience in Ugo’s swamp James was all too aware of insects. They were everywhere, countless millions of them.

Men thought they were so much more advanced, so superior, but it was the insect that ruled the world. They were here before man and they would be here long after he disappeared from the face of the earth.

James wondered how the battle yesterday would have appeared to a giant. The mass of angry men, fighting and dying, would have looked like nothing more than two rival swarms of ants.

Staring up at a patch of stars visible through the branches of the trees, he slowly drifted into a troubled sleep and dreamt of gunshots and bright blood hanging in the air like a red mist.

Some time later he felt himself being shaken and awoke to find the familiar face of Vendetta staring down at him. She was all in black, with a short blouse over trousers and a scarf tied around her head.

She smiled, then kissed him before he had a chance to dodge it. She beckoned him with a slim, bony finger and he got up stiffly.