But they never learnt what he thought, because at that moment about forty men poured out of different vantage points around them and formed a huge ring around Marcus, making sure to keep their distance, while training their blasters on him. Marcus stopped, although his expression didn’t change.

For a few long moments, nobody moved, and nobody said anything. Marcus looked around, at the ring of armed men encircling him, unmoved. Then, calmly, he sat down cross-legged on the valley floor, placing his hands in his lap, looking straight ahead of him.

As Albert watched, two of the men began to move forward, from behind Marcus. ‘You would be unwise to come closer,’ said Marcus quietly, without turning around.

The men stopped in their tracks, shooting uncertain looks at each other, before falling back to rejoin their companions in the ring. All around them, people began to gather, pouring out of their homes lining the ledges above, peering curiously down at the spectacle. Father was pushing forward now, trying to break through the circle of men.

On Albert’s right, Ucho emerged from the tent, the men near him falling back to let him get through the ring. He stalked through, stopping to perform an exaggerated double take when he saw Marcus sitting there like a meditating monk, whose eyes, instead of being closed, were trained on him.

‘Oi! What do you think you’re doing?’ demanded Ucho.

‘Sitting,’ said Marcus.

‘Sitting? What the hell do you mean, sitting? You’re under arrest! Why the bloody hell are you sitting?’

‘I am waiting,’ came the reply.

‘Eh? Waiting for what?’

‘For you to tell me why I am “under arrest”, as you call it.’

‘Oh, so you’re telling me you don’t know, now?’

‘There are many things I do not know. I do not know why you believe shouting will hide your fear. I do not know why you are playing your little war games with me. I—’

‘Oh, can it! You’re surrounded with nowhere to run so—’

‘Hold on, Ucho,’ said Father who had finally succeeded in breaking through the wall of men. He ran forward to stand next to Ucho. ‘Listen to me, Marcus. We have a grave problem. There has been a murder.’

Marcus looked at him unblinkingly. ‘People die every day. It is none of my concern.’

‘Still pretending like you don’t know, eh?’ roared Ucho. ‘All right, I’ll play along! You’re under arrest for the murder of Castor and Biloxi!’

Marcus blinked. ‘What is a Biloxi?’

‘Why, you—Biloxi’s the boy whose throat you slit along with Castor’s!’

Marcus looked at him blankly. ‘You make no sense. I shall speak to Father instead.’

‘You think you’re in any position to—’

‘Listen, Marcus!’ said Father. ‘Castor has been killed, as has his guard, with a knife that looks like yours. May I ask where your knife is?’