The ringmaster held Lena’s right arm in the air as he declared her the winner.

“Give it up for our champion, Lena Kovács, ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls!” said the ringmaster as they both bowed to the applauding audience.

“She leaves here with her freedom, unlike those you see behind us. They will remain here on display in this arena as a reminder to everyone in society that the law must be obeyed. Do not make us hold another tournament. I bid you all good night and wish you a safe journey home.”

As we stood to leave our seats, the guards re-erected the temporary metal fence in front of the posts and crucifixes, so people could continue to view the dead and dying up close.

“We need to go and congratulate Lena!” said my wife.

We got to the gate at the end of the tunnel, and entered the arena to find Lena swamped by reporters and photographers.

Eventually we got close enough to call to her, and she came over to us, pleased but exhausted.

I shook her hand, and my daughter gave her a hug.

“I’m thrilled that you won!” she said.

“Aww, thank you! It was your cat suit that saved me!” replied Lena.

“Nah, it was your smarts!” said my son. “I’d have been a goner if I’d got that question about factors.”

Lena looked us over and thought hard.

“I thought about your offer, and I’d like to accept,” she said to my wife.

“Offer?” I enquired.

“Well, you know how you were entertaining the idea of rescuing Lena and taking her as a sex slave?” my wife replied. “I had a chat with her during the interval, and we came up with something better.”

Turning to my son and daughter she continued, “Kids, both of Lena’s parents are dead, so I thought we could adopt her — what do you think?”

“So I get a sister? Brilliant!” said my daughter.

“She can help me with maths homework!” said my son.

“You don’t mind that we tortured and crucified you?” I asked Lena in disbelief.

“What came before made up for that!” she replied.

“Well, that’s settled then,” I said. “Lena, would you like to come home with us now?”

“I’d love to, but first I’ve got to take care of this,” she replied, pointing at the knife still embedded in her leg.

“Oh yes, right,” my wife replied, “Son, can you call over that paramedic? We need to get Lena to hospital.”