He heard voices. He hadn’t been allowed to mix with the others at all, only Stanislav. He knew from him that Mama was diagonally opposite. Elena and Luiza were further on. The women had been put to work in the kitchen gardens he’d seen on his abortive bid for freedom. As far as Stanislav could tell, they were being treated tolerably.

Grace? No one knew where she was. She didn’t appear to be a prisoner with them, though she could have been somewhere else in the castle. Perhaps she never made it this far: taken by some creature with sharp teeth, or fallen by accident and he’d passed her by within shouting distance.

Perhaps she was dead. It was impossible to know. Pigface seemed to not only know nothing, but also lack the curiosity to find out.

The cell doors were barred with a plank of wood that fitted into hasps on the far side, preventing them from opening. Dalip took the bar from where Pigface had laid it against the wall and took it back into his cell. It was too wide to be useful as a weapon, difficult to grip and swing.

He lifted it up and offered it to the window slit. It would just about fit through, and if there was a time when he’d need to conveniently lose the bar – and free the other prisoners – then he could just slide them all outside.

He returned it, just before Pigface came back around the corner, walking behind Stanislav and tapping his cosh into the palm of his hand.

‘You are to fight?’

‘Apparently.’

‘What?’

‘He hasn’t said.’

Stanislav idly turned around, and in one fluid move, pinned Pigface’s throat and club hand to the wall. When the guard tried for his knife with his off-hand, Stanislav pushed his forearm harder against the man’s Adam’s apple.

‘We need to know before he goes in the pit.’

Pigface couldn’t turn his head, couldn’t swallow, couldn’t speak. He just made a little gasping noise from somewhere inside.

‘What animal does the boy have to fight?’

Pigface’s lips moved, but they were starting to turn blue.

‘If you kill him,’ said Dalip, ‘Actually I don’t know what’ll happen if you kill him.’

‘We might get someone with some balls. That would make things more difficult for us.’ Stanislav released his hold and Pigface staggered away, wheezing and cupping his neck with his hand.

‘You’re crazy,’ he gasped. ‘You’re mad.’

‘Yes, all of us,’ said Dalip. ‘We’re more trouble than we’re worth.’

Pigface coughed and leant against the wall. ‘She’s waiting. You’re late.’

‘What does the boy have to fight?’ said Stanislav again. ‘Are you going to tell me, or do I beat it out of you?’

Pigface held up his hand to ward him off. ‘Boar. There’s a boar.’

‘A … what?’ Dalip looked askance.