Achilleus did a circuit of the ring, pacing it out, then took his sweatshirt off and went over to Big Mick, who was standing with Lewis. Achilleus gave Mick the shirt and nodded as his friends urgently talked at him from either side. They seemed to be giving him advice. Meanwhile, Just John emerged carrying a shield and his spear. He strutted backward and forward in front of his crew like a caged lion, bouncing up and down on his toes, flexing his arms, throwing challenging glances over to Achilleus.

Achilleus ignored him. He looked to be slowly withdrawing into himself. Gathering his strength, sharpening his concentration, holding himself in.

“Come on, then, Gaylord!” John shouted over to him, spinning his vicious three-bladed spear around his head. “Kiss your boyfriends good-bye and come over here. Or are you going to roll over?”

Lewis handed Achilleus his spear. Maxie noticed that it had been freshly sharpened, the tip glinted silver, honed to a needle point. It was made from a long steel spike, with a pommel at the blunt end and thick leather bindings just behind the head to stop another weapon from sliding down it. Achilleus was always working on it, getting the balance just right. It was lethal, but John’s looked more lethal, with the three knives strapped to the end of its sturdy wooden shaft. One jab from that would cause a terrible wound, and he handled it expertly. He must have practiced for hours every day, twirling it around from hand to hand.

Lewis scratched his head. He looked half asleep as usual, but he was nervous.

“That’s an evil spear he’s got there,” he drawled.

“It’s clumsy,” said Achilleus. “It looks nasty, but it’s not aerodynamic, not with them stupid knives stuck on the end. It’s not weighted right.”

“Don’t matter,” said Lewis. “It’s a killer. And he looks like he’s killed some.”

“And I haven’t?” said Achilleus.

Lewis shrugged. “This is different, bro,” he said. “This is another kid. He’s fit, man, and strong. He ain’t no shuffling zombie like the grown-ups.”

“He’s flesh and blood like anyone else,” said Achilleus.

“Don’t he scare you?”

“’Course he scares me,” said Achilleus. “You think I’m nuts? He’s a hard-nosed son of a bitch. So I’m gonna keep on my toes.”

“Not so hard-nosed now,” said Big Mick. “You land him one in the middle of his face, he’s gonna feel it.” He handed Achilleus his shield.

“Thanks,” said Achilleus, shoving his arm through the strap. “Shame John’s got one of these too. But them knife blades of his aren’t going to be as strong as my spear. If I can get him to keep knocking them against my shield, they’re gonna bust.”

“Just make it quick,” said Mick. “He’s taller than you, with a longer reach. He’ll be hard to get at.”