There was a shout from Paulos, and the donkey brayed, coming to a stop. Silvius sprang up and made sure his bow and arrows were to hand. ‘We’re surrounded!’ A group of men in dark tunics was encircling the wagon. Elissa, wide-eyed, was already drawing her bow.

The bandits’ leader, tall, with a white, pocked face and a nose that ran straight and long, was brandishing a large club. On either side of him loomed heavyset men with daggers.

Ruffler bared his teeth.

‘That thing doesn’t scare me,’ scoffed the leader. ‘Now get off the cart. You’re coming with us.’

There were six men in all. Paulos had jumped off the driver’s seat and was on his knees, begging not to be killed in voluble tones. Silvius exchanged a quick glance with Elissa. Her bow was braced, but she shook her head almost imperceptibly. It wasn’t worth fighting these bandits. They were big and tough, and would kill them easily. There was only one thing he could do: try to negotiate.

‘Sir …’ he began, and the leader laughed.

‘First time I’ve ever been called sir,’ he said, and tapped his club on his hand.

‘Sir,’ continued Silvius, biting his bottom lip, ‘I must reach Mykenai. I’m on a special mission—’

But the leader cut him off with a blow to the head, which left him reeling, and he was dragged from the cart before Elissa had a chance to loose an arrow. Two of the other heavies grabbed her as she kicked and bit fiercely.

The leader threw a gold coin to Paulos. ‘Thanks for the tip, Paulos,’ he spat. ‘Now be on your way.’

‘Told you,’ said Elissa, fiercely. ‘That pig betrayed us. A curse on you and yours, Paulos!’

One of the men advanced on Ruffler. The little cub leapt at him, biting him on the calf; the man shook him off, and Ruffler sped off, away into the distance.

Neither Elissa nor Silvius had time to shout after him. They were dragged in the opposite direction, forced to walk in front of the band of robbers, burning with indignation.

After a while they came to a crossroads, where the leader paused and looked Silvius up and down, grabbing the chain around his neck. Silvius instinctively put up his hand to stop him. A shiver of its power coursed through him. ‘Don’t touch it.’

‘Knew you had something special on you,’ hissed the leader. ‘Heard two young ones had come from Italia on a magic boat. I’m surprised you’re still alive. What is it that you have here, anyway?’

‘Listen,’ said Silvius, in quiet desperation. ‘If you take us to the king, unharmed, I’ll make sure you’re well rewarded.’

The leader’s stumpy fingers, blackened with dirt, closed around the chain.

‘Don’t touch it,’ begged Silvius.

‘That was the wrong thing to say, boy,’ answered the leader, grinning.