‘I am already damned,’ he said. ‘I hoped that Amy would save me. She was something good in my life.’

‘Well, you weren’t anything very good in hers,’ said James.

‘You are right,’ said Zoltan. ‘As usual.’ He paused and stared down at his useless left hand. Finally he spat and James saw that his saliva was thick and yellow.

‘Do you believe in forgiveness?’ said Zoltan quietly.

‘I don’t know,’ said James.

‘I have done many bad things,’ said Zoltan. ‘For once I will do something good.’ He struggled feebly to his feet and went over to his horse. ‘I know now that I must get away from her, or she will be my death. Here, take this.’ He tossed a bag of coins to James. ‘Head always eastward, until you hit the coast, then hire a boat and go home. Look after Amy for me.’

‘What? Wait… No…’

But Zoltan couldn’t be stopped. He muttered something to Tree-Trunk in Hungarian and the two of them climbed into their saddles and galloped off.

Amy ran over to James.

‘Where are they going?’ she said.

‘We’re on our own now,’ said James.

‘We’re free?’

‘It looks like it. Free to die out here in the sun like dogs.’

They suddenly felt very small and lost and alone.

‘What do we do?’ said Amy.

‘We walk.’

After half an hour of stumbling through the scented maquis, the tough plants tearing at their already tattered clothing, James and Amy came out on a dirt road and followed it down the hill towards the coast.

They plodded along in silence, too weary to speak, staring at their feet as they slapped into the dust.

Now and then James imagined he could still hear the horses, clop-clop-clopping along. He thought he might be starting to get delirious from sunstroke.

The sun was pitiless, burning into the back of James’s neck. Amy was suffering as well, the sweat dripped off her nose and chin. In the end, she tore some strips of material off her hated yellow dress and they tied them around their heads. It was better than nothing and offered them some relief from the scorching rays.

They passed through a narrow gorge and came out on to a wide, dry, stony plain. There was a stand of cork oaks on one side of it and high cliffs on the other.

James could imagine nowhere more bleak and exposed.

‘This is stupid,’ he said to Amy. ‘We should take shelter and wait until it cools down. We’ll be roasted alive out here.’

Amy nodded and they left the road and set off towards the trees.

The forest was further than it had looked and the plain seemed to go on forever. They walked and walked but the dark shimmering line of the trees didn’t seem to be getting any nearer.

Amy sat down.