‘Shut up! Jus’ shut up!’ Kieran whispered fiercely.

Albert struggled to break free, but in vain, his eyes shooting daggers at Kieran, who remained unmoved. ‘Listen, will ya! These are Vail’s people round yer! You yell an’ everyone’s gonna know yer a Domechild! What you think’s gonna happen then?’

Albert ceased to struggle, looking at the big man, who looked as anxious as he had when he had been struggling on the ledge during their nightmarish journey here. ‘I’m a-gonna let yer go now, but don’ yer say nothin’! All right?’

Albert nodded and Kieran released him, although his face was still worried. ‘It’s not right, what ’e does, I know, but ain’t nothin’ nobody can do. It’s how the crowd wants it.’

Albert didn’t reply, but his face said it all. Up ahead on the platform, the screams had stopped, although Bosco hadn’t. He was now kicking either an unconscious man, or a corpse. Even the crowd had fallen silent now, the cheers having given way to an uneasy silence.

Finally, after a solid five minutes or so of footwork, he got bored, or maybe he was just tired, and stopped and left the ring, to a cheer that was noticeably more muted than the one he had entered to. A minute later, two men jumped into the ring and carried the unconscious Ring-Face out as well. As they lifted him out, Albert caught a glimpse of his face. It was unrecognizable, completely red with blood, the silver of the jewellery mashed into the torn flesh around his mouth and eyes. There was no nose Albert could see. It had been flattened completely, ground into his face. He looked away, feeling sick.

Kieran was tapping him on the shoulder. ‘Now I’m outta ’ere. You comin’?’

‘Well, it’s the speech next, right? No more of these fights?’

‘Aye.’

‘Then I think maybe I’ll stick around.’

‘Yer sure?’

‘Yes. I want to see what all the fuss is about.’

Kieran shrugged. ‘Suit yerself.’ He turned to leave, then turned back to Albert again. ‘Keep yer head down. And don’ say nothin’!’

He turned to leave and yet again turned back round almost immediately, opening his mouth to say something. Then he thought better of it and left, muscling his way through the crowd.

16

Albert looked back round at the platform, where two men were hastily dropping down sand to cover the bloodstains. Another man jumped into the ring. Albert looked at him curiously, anxious to get a look at this man whom everybody seemed to be talking about. At first glance, he looked the part all right, tall, with long hair and a long, bushy beard, wearing black robes. The man cleared his throat, and the crowd fell silent. Albert stood up on tiptoe, keen not to miss a word. The man cleared his throat again.

‘It is time!’ he shouted. ‘Vail will speak now!’