‘We’ll be there,’ Sean explained. ‘In the catchers’ box. There’ll be five kids from each camp and we can’t leave the box. Up to ten kids from each camp set off from the starting line.’ He pointed to the far end of the track where a large group was starting to gather. ‘We don’t usually field more than about seven. And they have to try to get past the catchers to the finish line.’

‘Is that it?’ Ed asked. ‘Are there any tactics?’

‘I guess,’ said Sean. ‘As a catcher, you’ve got to decide whether to protect your guys going through, or try to catch runners from other teams. Also, if a runner gets through they’re allowed to go back to try to free their friends, so watch your backs. Winner is the team with the most runners past the line when the music stops.’

‘How long is that?’ Ed asked.

‘No idea. Arno and the King decide. Never soon enough. I warn you, it’s fun, but pretty brutal.’

‘This is gonna be a blast,’ said Kyle, grinning in anticipation.

They were joined by a rather large kid who introduced himself as Green and high-fived them. Ed reckoned he’d make a solid enough barrier, but wondered how fast on his feet he’d be.

‘You have any tactics?’ Ed asked.

‘We normally just make it up as we go along,’ said Sean. ‘And try not to get hurt too much. It’s basically chaos.’

‘OK.’ Ed looked down towards the runners. ‘Any of our guys get to us, we form up around them and escort them through the box.’

‘If any of them get to us,’ said Green. ‘We tend to be a bit useless.’

‘Gonna be different this time, soldier,’ said Kyle and he slapped palms with the kid.

‘Oh, there is one rule,’ said Sean. ‘You mustn’t step outside the lines or you’ll get disqualified and pulled out of the game. That’s only catchers, not runners obviously. You can tell who the runners are because they’re wearing black armbands.’

Arno was over at the side of the track, chatting to the King and the musicians, the king’s bodyguard sitting nearby on his horse. Arno looked up at the sky, nodded, said something that made the King laugh and they approached the barrier.

‘OK,’ he shouted, raising his staff. ‘May the best team win and may the worst team lose and may the good Lord keep you all safe and sound, you filthy rats.’

The King tipped back his head and howled and the band started playing, belting out an out-of-tune but enthusiastic version of the Carmina Burana theme that they used on The X Factor. Ed was so busy listening he forgot this was the signal to start the game. By the time he’d turned to look, there were about sixty runners belting down the track towards him.