Van Brakel was trembling and his wrinkled old eyes were bright with incendiary rage. ‘You let this happen, Fitzroy. I hold you personally responsible!’

‘Sir, may I remind you that I urged you to cancel the Gathering. You wouldn’t listen to me. Now we have to get out of here. Please. Quickly!’

At that moment running figures burst from the house, and the first shots sounded. For a few brief instants it looked as though the security guards were going to contain the dreadful situation. But the tide turned against them almost immediately. Fitz watched as two, three, four of them went down. Then he recoiled from the window as one of its panes exploded inwards from the impact of a stray bullet. Fitz felt the sting on his cheek, and touched his fingers to the blood where a shard had gashed him. The old man was just standing there. Fitz grabbed his arm and yanked him away from the broken window. ‘Come on! It’s too dangerous here!’

Fitz hustled the Grand Master from the room and virtually dragged him through the house towards the back exit, and the meadow beyond. He could only pray that they weren’t too late. The fear was growing on him that Hope’s army of attackers had already surrounded Karswell Hall and would grab them the moment they stepped outside. Then Fitz would have no choice but to shoot his way out. He wasn’t afraid of that. But you couldn’t fight if you didn’t carry a gun. Nowadays he relied on having others do that for him. And now those others were nowhere to be seen, and he was alone. The fear gripped him tighter.

That was when Fitz suddenly realised that the changing rooms weren’t far away, and remembered that at least two of the members kept illicit weapons stashed away in their private lockers. Unknown to them, Fitz had keys to each and every one, and routinely checked their contents.

‘This way!’ he rasped in Van Brakel’s ear, dragging him along.

‘Where are we going? I can’t walk any further!’

‘Yes, you can.’

Fitz was petrified that at any second they were going to run into Hope and his raiders. He ploughed desperately on until he reached the locker rooms. Finding the one he wanted, he fumbled for the key. His hands were shaking. The old man was gibbering and frightened and seemed to be suffering from breathing difficulties. This is all we need, Fitz thought.