The spectators looked on in morbid fascination. Above their shocked gasps and shouts of encouragement, Rakesby’s voice boomed loud and clear. ‘Keep fighting, Jack, I’ve put sixpence on yer!’

But Jack was rapidly weakening under the mastiff’s ferocious onslaught. None of his training had prepared him to fight a rabid wild beast. There were no punches to block or kicks to counter. No blades to deflect or weapons to disarm. The dog had no battle strategy – it simply wanted to rip, tear and bite.

Then Jack remembered Sensei Kyuzo’s katame waza training. Surely his teacher’s grappling techniques would be as effective on a dog as on a man? In a bid to gain the advantage, Jack rolled over until he was on top of the mastiff. Then, pinning a forearm across the dog’s throat, he began to choke the animal. It spluttered and writhed beneath him. But, in rolling, Jack had made the fatal error of entering the bear’s domain. Straining on her chain, the enraged beast took another swipe at Jack. Her sharp claws ripped through the cotton of Jack’s shirt and scored four red lines into his back. Crying out in pain, he lost his grip on the dog and the mastiff’s jaws clamped on to his forearm.

Caught between teeth and claws, Jack realized he was as good as dead.

The shouts of the crowd grew to fever pitch and Rakesby leant over the arena wall to gloat at Jack’s demise. ‘I told you, Jack: never underestimate the bear!’

His words cut through the pain and Jack knew what he had to do. Rather than rolling away from the bear, he rolled towards her, with the dog still gripping his arm. Using the mastiff as a shield, Jack let the bear attack, and her claws dug deep into the dog’s back. The mastiff yelped, releasing Jack’s arm, and was almost immediately torn from him. The bear killed it with a single bite to its throat.

Jack scrambled away to safety. Although many had bet against him, the crowd now cheered his miraculous escape. But the gladiatorial battle wasn’t over yet. The remaining bulldog, recovered from its impact against the arena wall, stalked towards Jack. Injured and exhausted, Jack didn’t know whether he had the strength left to fight it off. Weakly, he raised his fists into a fighting guard.

‘This isn’t a boxing match!’ heckled Hazel, prompting a wave of laughter.

But Jack had nothing else with which to fend off the savage animal.

The beast bared its teeth and growled. Jack braced himself.

Then a dagger landed at his feet, a slim stiletto blade with a pair of ornate curved prongs above the hilt.

Jack snatched it up.

‘Foul play!’ yelled Rakesby, scanning the crowd for the dagger’s owner.