‘I’ve been thinking,’ the Bull rumbled, as the crowd gradually fell silent. ‘It’s not right that we can’t watch the Acumen challenge. There’s always been an audience in the past. I move that we let the people in to see the action.’

There were several murmurs of agreement and a few scattered claps but several of the higher-placed Carnegies cast anxious looks at Aifric. The good old Steward was very, very unhappy but he wasn’t about to let this lot see his distress. He pasted on a beatific smile and strode forward.

‘What a good idea! I agree wholeheartedly. We should let people watch. The Games are entertainment, after all.’ He slapped the Bull’s back and resolutely refused to look in my direction. ‘What say you, Clan Carnegie?’

There was a brief, awkward silence. The Carnegie Chieftain, a thin wiry man, pushed his way forward. ‘We can do that.’ He paused. ‘If the Steward demands it.’

Aifric laughed heartily. ‘Oh, I’m not demanding anything. The Games are yours to run. It’s merely a suggestion.’

‘Then that is what we shall do,’ Chieftain Carnegie said. ‘As always, Steward, you are very wise.’

The weak applause started again but soon changed into something louder and more enthusiastic. I didn’t know or care whether it was forced or genuine; I’d got what I wanted. With people watching my every move, I’d be as safe as I could be. It would be blatant dishonour for the Carnegies – or anyone else – to harm me.

I turned on my heel and walked out again, passing closely by Aifric. He didn’t say a word but I could feel his anger. I’d have enjoyed letting him believe that I’d fallen for his lies for a while longer but, let’s face it, the truth was going to come out at some point.

The chill night air was pleasant and briskly reinvigorated both my body and my mind. I didn’t pay much attention to where I was going; I was too busy working out what Aifric’s next move might be.

I was lost in thought, my head down and my attention elsewhere, when a cold voice emerged from the darkness. ‘Look who it is. The girl who’s too good to fight.’

I looked up, seeking the voice’s owner, and made out two shapes at the top of the hill. Tipsania and Byron. A flash of bitter jealousy zipped through me. For two people who were apparently faking their relationship, they spent a lot of time together. Did she know he’d kissed me? Or that he’d been alone with me a couple of hours ago when I was almost naked?