Inside the fragile shelter of the barricade, the defenders herded the children into the hollow of a little kind of dell, as far away from harm as they could get. Not nearly far enough, though.

‘In the name of God,’ said Father Bugnolio, ‘I cannot allow this to happen.’ Francine stood at his side, clutching her rifle, utterly resolute. ‘Nor shall I. I will die before I see any of them harmed.’

‘Then we will die together, my dear, dear lady,’ the priest said, and put an arm tenderly around her shoulders.

‘Stop talking like that! I can’t stand it!’ wailed Ramin, beside himself with fear and panic. Madison tried to reassure him. Aziz was sitting on a rock, grey and ill-looking. Nobby Scraggs was too badly hurt to do much of anything, but he’d insisted on being propped up with a carbine and spare magazine in his lap, where he fully intended to guard the children with his last breath.

‘This is the one, Jaden,’ Ben said to Wolf as they did their last weapons check. There were so many discarded guns lying around that Ben had had his pick, opting for a lightweight carbine in addition to his pistol.

‘I love it when the odds get nasty,’ Wolf said with a predatory gleam in his eye.

‘Best of luck.’

Wolf grinned. ‘See you on the other side, Ben.’

That was when Ben heard the familiar ominous rumbling of a powerful Perkins diesel engine and jumped up on a rock to see the armoured tank car approaching. They’d managed to get it the rest of the way up the hillside and now the beast was clambering over the rubble towards the barricade. The hairy face protruding from the open gun turret was cracked open in a big smile of triumph. Which told Ben they’d managed to fix their problem with the 90mm cannon, too. Just one or two blasts from that thing would blow the barricade to smithereens, breaching their defences for the rest of the troops to come flooding through. Foot soldiers were running alongside the tank, weapons ready for what would surely be the decisive push.

Ashen faced and wide-eyed, the prince muttered, ‘Oh my God. This is the end. We’re finished.’

‘Hey, remember that thing I said about Richard the Lionheart?’ Wolf replied. ‘I was wrong. I take it back. I should have called you Richard the Chickenheart.’

The prince shook his head, as though an idea had come to him. He gripped Ben’s arm. ‘Listen to me. There’s still time.’

‘Time for what?’

‘For me to talk to their commander. I can do a deal with them. My position gives me a lot of bargaining power.’

Wolf said, ‘Your position gives you bugger all, your Royal Holiness. Especially when they’ve stuck your distinguished head on a spike and paraded it in front of the whole world. That’ll sell a few newspapers, and no mistake.’