‘All men break, eventually. There is no shame in that. All men: there is no one who ever lived who could not be taken beyond what they could endure. Now, this boar. It will try to knock you down and gore you. Stay on your feet and away from its head. The front end is very dangerous. When you get the chance you must stab it in the arse.’

Dalip blinked. ‘I have to do what?’

‘Stab it in the arse. It will bleed to death quickly. It may even take just one blow.’ He shrugged. ‘It is what wolves do. Attack from behind, rip out its arse.’

‘You have got to be joking.’

‘No,’ said Stanislav. ‘This is no joke. Wild boar can kill people. If you do not wish to be one of them, then you must—’

‘Stab it in the arse. I get it.’

‘Do not hesitate.’ He put a hand on Dalip’s back and began to guide him down towards the pit. ‘Show no fear. Now we know that is what she wants, the less she gets of it, the more you will hurt her.’

‘Right.’ Dalip’s mouth had gone dry, and his palms sweaty. He waved them down by his sides to dry them. He could hear a commotion from the guard room: raised voices, something banging against heavy wood, and a most awful, high-pitched shrieking that cut straight through his resolve and left it in tatters.

‘Remember: it is nothing but a brute animal. It will act on instinct, while you can out-think it.’

Dalip wasn’t so sure. The dog had been one thing, sprung on him almost before he’d had time to work out what he was going to do. This was different – this was deliberate, planned, and he was a willing participant, no matter how much his situation had forced him into it. He was growing almost light-headed.

‘Breathe, boy. Breathe slow and deep.’

That was it. He was hyperventilating. He caught himself and put his hand to his chest so he could count the space between inhaling and exhaling.

He was in the drum-shaped pit, and the geomancer and her steward were looking keenly at him, trying to gauge just how close he was to begging. He wasn’t going to do that. Not today. He breathed in, counted to five, breathed out. Stanislav was with him, staring belligerently up through narrowed eyes at the woman.

She leaned over to confer with the steward, their voices too quiet to hear. He nodded and scratched at his chin thoughtfully. Dalip wondered what was more important than his fight, and possible death.

Pigface came into the pit and threw his knife down on the ground at Dalip’s feet. He was sweating as much as Dalip was.