Dinu the Retiarius and Bob the Boiler-Man were terrible gladiators.
For a long time they just circled each other. The crowd jeered. It was starting to get ugly, with a few people throwing rotten cabbages, when Dinu tripped on his own net and almost fell. At this, Bob the Boiler-Man lunged. But Dinu managed to stay upright by swinging out with his trident, which just clipped Bob’s helmet.
The crowd cheered as Bob staggered back. I’m guessing the blow to his helmet was making his head ring like a bell.
Then Dinu gave a half-hearted jab in Bob’s direction, and by some miracle he actually made contact with Bob’s thigh. Worse, he made Bob bleed. It didn’t look too bad from twelve rows up, but I’m guessing it really stung. Now Bob was swinging wildly with his sword and I realised that Dinu’s blow to his helmet had turned it slightly and Bob couldn’t see! Then Dinu got tangled in his net again and this time he fell down.
The crowd loved it. They were jeering and laughing and calling out and some of them were making the bee sound.
As I watched Dinu desperately try to get free of the net while Bob swung blindly in the wrong direction, I felt a strange mix of emotions.
On the one hand, I wanted Dinu to beat the guy to a pulp, because Dinu was from Wandsworth Academy and also from my century.
But I couldn’t help thinking how convenient it would be if Dinu was out of the picture. Especially as Lollia was now completely ignoring me and gazing at him with wide-eyed panic.
I came to my senses.
How could I even think such a terrible thought?
Guilt made me yell, ‘Come on, Dinu!’ in English, without thinking about it.
Somehow he heard me and looked up.
When he saw me his expression changed from despair to delight. He freed his foot, jumped up and shouted, ‘Wimpy!’
Bob must have heard Dinu’s voice, because he whirled around and started slashing in a much more dangerous way.
‘Watch out, Dinu!’ I bellowed. ‘Use the net to get his sword!’
Dinu nodded, swung the net and missed.
Bob’s sword took the top off his trident, making it a no-dent.
The crowd gasped. Plecta screamed. Lollia squeezed my hand.
Dinu flung away the useless trident and swung his net again. This time he missed the sword but somehow managed to flick the net around Bob’s ankles. Dinu gave a tug and his opponent came crashing down. Right on his sword!
‘Argh!’ I gasped. ‘Own goal!’
Poor Bob screamed, twitched and then lay still. A pool of blood started to spread out on the sand beneath him.
Plecta screamed again and covered her eyes, but Lollia did something that astonished me.
She cheered.
And when the referee guy placed a wreath on Dinu’s head she stood up, cupped her hands to her mouth and cried in Greek, ‘We love you, Dinu!’