CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER THIRTEENA week later, Emperor Hadrian’s birthday was finally upon Rome and the whole city was bursting with sounds and colour! Ornate banners and flower garlands hung from every window down every street – streets that fizzed with the singing and dancing of happy citizens!
The biggest, loudest celebrations of all came from the Colosseum. It always roared with excitement, but today it was rammed to the rafters with the highest of spirits! Every dancing bear was deafeningly cheered; every juggling monkey (Yes! There WERE juggling monkeys!) was applauded till the walls of the stadium rattled.
When Rome threw a party, it REALLY threw a party and everyone – from senator to slave – was determined to have the best time of their lives!
But deep in the bowels of the Colosseum, the atmosphere was far from festive. Julius and his friends sat staring at the floor, barely looking up. Their mood was as solemn as a funeral, even when a great roar from the crowd shook the ceiling and crumbled plaster on their heads.
“Well, it’s been nice knowing you all,” sighed a despondent Felix.
“Look,” said Julius. “We know we’re all going to die, but we’d rather you’d just zip it.”
“Come on!” said Cornelius, swishing his sword. “We can DO this! All our extra training this week has turned us into LEAN, MEAN, FIGHTING MACHINES!”
But no one took any notice.
“We don’t stand a chance against the might of the Empire’s great gladiatorial champions,” Milus growled from the shadows. “We may as well just lie down and let them finish us off, once and for all.”
Julius sighed, cursing himself for getting into such a rotten mess all those weeks ago. How could he have been so stupid as to think he could gallivant off on his own like that? He’d give anything to be with his family now. “Perhaps they’ll come to rescue me after all,” he hoped, aloud.
“You bet your life they’re trying to find you,” said Cornelius. “Maybe my family are trying to find me, too…”
Just then, little Pliny waltzed in. “Well, this is cheery,” he said, checking out the grim faces.
Pliny was still annoyed at them all for trying to escape and NOT TELLING HIM! Not even his old pal, Milus. Oh, yes, Milus. The worst escape artist in Rome’s long, glorious history. He had been back at the barracks sooner than the others – picked up by a patrol just outside the Colosseum.
“You’d better pull your sorry finger out, ’cos you’re up against some pretty tough opponents today,” Pliny said.
“I fear nothing!” Cornelius declared triumphantly. “Not while I wear my lucky Subligaria!”
“Lucky? How can a nappy be lucky?!” snorted Julius.
“Well,” said Cornelius, sidling up to him. “I’m glad you asked.”
Julius let out a low sigh.
“Now, today is the Vernal Equinox…” Cornelius began.
“The … what? It is?” Julius puzzled.
“Indeed it is. This is when daytime and night-time are of equal length – something the gods view very favourably…”
“Wait a minute,” piped up Felix. “If it’s the er …Vernon Equiplops, or whatever it’s called, surely it’s lucky for everybody?”
“Aha!” boasted Cornelius. “This is where the gods were smiling on me in particular. As I was pulling my nappy on this morning, a little frog hopped past, croaking as he went. That, my friends, is a sign from the gods themselves that they wish me happiness and good fortune.”
But before Cornelius could reply, a figure appeared in the doorway. “Farewell, you incompetent buffoons.” It was, of course, Septimus. “I can’t be too harsh on you, though. You’ve earned me a pretty penny just by lasting long enough till today.”
He walked over and eyed them with his ferocious gaze.
“If by some miracle you do survive, which you won’t, never darken my doors with your fetid, stinking, ugly faces again.”
And off he went, as suddenly as he’d appeared, slamming the door behind him.
“You know, I think I’m going to miss that scraggy old face,” said Felix.
“I’ll say one thing for him, though,” said Julius. “He always did smell rather lovely.”
A great blaring of trumpets was followed by an enormous roar.
As the dust settled, Julius felt his stomach sink as if down a great well. “This is it!” he said.
