I know I should turn away, but the man’s words ring in my head, the Tragedy of Tamane. I watch as the two ants snap at each other, shimmering in fury. The General watches too, her eyes – like mine – fixed on the ant the man has named for Tamane. It struggles until finally, the larger ant strikes, opening a seeping wound in its abdomen. As it falls, my skin turns cold, despite the sun.

‘Roseinvale! Roseinvale has taken it! The champion, and a victory for the Free Limits at last! Come folk and collect your winnings…’

People move away, muttering or grinning and shoving pieces of metal into their pockets. I tug on the General’s arm but she does not move, not even when she is the last one left and the showman starts to pack up the ring. The defeated ant is still alive, still trying to fight, dragging itself towards the other, now safely stowed inside a tiny cage.

‘Don’t be sad, little lady,’ the showman leers, revealing scratched fibreglass teeth. ‘Old Tamane here had a good life while it lasted, full board, all the leaf litter he could eat.’

‘How dare you.’

The General’s tone does not belong to a child. Before I can move, the man is in the dirt, the General’s knee pressing down on his windpipe.

‘Stinking maggot,’ she spits into his face. ‘How dare you? Those who fell at Tamane were heroes; they were beaten not through strength but through cowardice! And you mock them!’

The man is turning purple, his eyes wild. Using all my strength, I grab the General and haul her back, digging an elbow into her sternum. The air goes out of her and she lets go.

‘I am so sorry, sir,’ I babble to the man, ‘so sorry for my daughter. We lost my wife, you see, to the germ warfare on Tamane, the girl saw some terrible things.’

‘She’s crazy!’ the man chokes, rubbing at his throat. ‘Keep her away from me, I should call the Peacekeepers.’

People are starting to look. Swiftly, I drag the pouch of breath beads from beneath my clothes and throw it at him.

‘Here, sir, for your trouble.’

He opens his mouth to yell, until he sees what’s inside. ‘Well,’ he croaks, hauling himself up from the ground. ‘We all saw terrible things.’ He shoots a glance at the General, still wheezing in my arms, and for a moment, his face drops into the lines of grief it must wear when he is alone. ‘Think yourself lucky you still have her,’ he says. ‘My family were on one of the ships heading for Brovos. Got caught in the strikes. I only escaped ’cos I was on the hulks.’

I bow my head. ‘May your thoughts be clear.’

His hollow laugh follows me across the yard as I haul the General away. ‘Best that they are not.’

* * *