Gladiator Clash (Time Hunters, Book 1) (7 page)

As they stumbled into the boiling-hot midday sun of the amphitheatre, Tom and Isis were
still
scuffling.

“I am not wearing your big bum sash,” Tom snapped. “I already have my own. And that's that.”

Isis tried to lasso Tom with her sash but missed. It fell into the dust between them. People in the crowd were pointing and laughing at them.

Rufus cracked his whip. “Enough! Save your fighting for Hilarus.”

The two fell silent.

Tom faced the front and took in his surroundings properly. The huge Coliseum was packed with cheering spectators in rows of seats that seemed to climb all the way up to the blue sky. It reminded Tom of a football stadium.

The fighters were led around the arena by a band. The musicians played a lively tune on instruments that looked a bit like skinny tubas, and long horns that were polished to such a shine that they made Tom squint. There were drums, cymbals and bells, playing a beat that matched the pounding of Tom's heart.

Behind the musicians came the experienced gladiators wearing special show armour made from silver and gold. They would fight before the
catervarii
.

“They look tough,” Tom said to Isis. He eyed their rippling muscles enviously.

“Pah! They don't scare me,” she said, unimpressed.

Tom stared in awe at their helmets that had jewel-coloured peacock feathers arcing from their foreheads to the nape of their necks. They reminded Tom of the ones in his dad's museum.

Even though he was dressed in a loincloth and Atillius's big bum sash, Tom felt excited to be part of the procession. All of the fighters' weaponry had been polished so that the sun glinted off the fearsome scissors, axes and daggers. Tom held up his own shining swords as the crowd clapped.

In the audience there were men in white togas, children in tunics and women with the most elaborately curled hair Tom had ever seen. Tom felt like they were all cheering for him.

Now I know how football players feel when they're walking on to the pitch
, Tom thought. It was so exciting, he almost forgot he was there to fight a battle to the death.

“This is beyond brilliant!” he told Isis.

Isis pretended to aim her bow at the crowd. “It will only be beyond brilliant
if
I get my amulet and don't get killed… again!”

Behind them came the actors whose job it was to put on plays in between fights, to keep the crowd entertained. Finally, at the very back of the parade, came Josephus and the animals.

“I thought the animals weren't fighting,” Tom said to Isis.

“They're not,” Isis said. “But Josephus told me that Atillius wanted the animals as part of the parade to impress the spectators.”

Tom glanced back at the cages that had been wheeled into the arena. There, spread out on the best bit of straw and looking very much like the cat of a princess, was Cleo.

He nudged Isis. “Look who's decided to join in!”

Isis grinned and waved at her pet. “My fluffpot! Look! Now
there's
an impressive beast!”

Tom peered at the normally ferocious lions, alligator, tigers and two bears, in the cages by Josephus. He noticed that all the animals were huddled in the corner of their cages. No roaring. No growling. And certainly no snarling.

“You know,” Tom said, “they still seem scared of Cleo.”

“Of course they do. Quite right too,” Isis said, twanging the string on her bow.

*

Once the parade had been all the way around the amphitheatre, the trumpeters lined up. Silence fell like a blanket on the crowd as the musicians tooted an important-sounding fanfare. Tom's skin erupted into little goosebumps and then…

“Put your hands together for the star of the show!” Atillius cried. “The great, the astounding, the winner of his last thirteen fights, the one and only… HILARUS!”

The crowd sprang to their feet, cheering and clapping so loudly that Tom had to cover his ears with his hands.

In strode Hilarus. He was punching the air and chuckling to himself, as if fighting off five gladiators at once was the best joke he'd ever heard.

“‘Cheerful is the one you need to find,'” Tom said, remembering the riddle. “I can see where Hilarus gets his name from.”

“He won't be so cheerful when we get the amulet from his shield,” Isis said.

Hilarus shone in the sunshine as though he was on fire. Chunks of honey-coloured amber, like precious candy, had been studded into his pure-gold breastplate and sewn into his skirt. Even the cloth of his tunic beneath the armour looked like it had been spun from gold thread.

“Oooh,” cooed the crowd. Everybody jostled and elbowed one another out of the way to get a better look at the gleaming, golden gladiator.

Tom was straining to see too, but not because Hilarus was his hero. There it was: a glittering orange lump in the middle of the gladiator's round shield. More jewel-like than the amber that surrounded it, the stone was unmistakeably ancient and magical.

“Do you see what I see?” Tom asked, breath coming short with excitement.

Isis nodded, her eyes wide. She gripped Tom's arm. “It's the first amulet.”

“Hurry up, already. When is it going to be our turn?” huffed Isis, pacing up and down. “Princesses don't like to be kept waiting.”

After the parade, the
catervarii
had been brought to a chamber under the arena.

Tom kicked the sawdust strewn around the stone floor as they waited to be called into the ring. He wasn't in such a rush for a showdown with the legendary gladiator. He could just glimpse Rufus's sandal-clad feet, planted at the top of the same stone stairs that would lead him and Isis back into the fray.

Tom's heart was beating so loudly he wondered if the grumpy-looking guards flanking them could hear it. Listening to the crowd's gasps and the clashing of weapons, he realised how dangerous their plan was.

Suddenly, the crowd above them burst into deafening applause. Judging from the shouts of ‘Hilarus! Hilarus!' the famous gladiator had won another fight.

“End of the bout,” one guard said to the other. “And a messy one. The slaves will have a job getting all that blood out of the sand.”

Tom gave a little whimper.

“Scaredy cat,” Isis said. “I'm not the least bit frightened.” But she was still pacing and fidgeting with the scales on her armour. Tom was fairly certain that she
was
nervous. Just like him. But she was doing her best not to show it.

“Listen up, you lot!” Isis announced to Tom and the three other fighters who would face Hilarus. “We're going to win. I don't give two hoots about this Hilary! That big oaf is no match for me!”

Just then, footsteps clicked from the direction of the stairs. Rufus returned. Tom gulped and breathed heavily through his nose.

“All right, slaves,” Rufus said to the
catervarii
. “You're on next.”

In their group were Tom, Isis, a net-fighting
retiarius
who looked as though he ate children for breakfast, a
scissor
who was at least six feet tall and had arms like giant hams. The last member of the group was an
eques
, a fighter on horseback, like Isis. Only this man's head was so big, Tom was amazed Rufus had found a helmet to fit him. He carried a long lance and would start the fight.

“Fight bravely,” Rufus said. “Remember that you're there to give the crowd a good time.” He grinned at Tom and Isis and added, “So try not to die too soon.”

*

As they marched up the stairs and back outside into the sunshine, Tom heard a foghorn of a voice booming across the amphitheatre.

“And now, brace yourselves for the highlight of the show brought to you by Atillius's Expandable Loincloths. It is time for five
catervarii
to face the undefeated, the blessed-by-the-gods, the golden man-mountain that iiiiisssss… HILARUS!”

It was quite an introduction, Tom thought. He watched as the hero of the show strutted around the arena in his golden armour and feathered helmet, waving to the adoring crowds.

“He looks like a giant chicken,” Isis scoffed.

“Well, if he's a chicken, that makes us sitting ducks,” Tom said.

Hilarus played up to the spectators' ear-splitting cheering by cartwheeling, clowning around and generally being a show-off. Meanwhile, his servants were collecting the money and gifts that the crowd were throwing into the arena for their hero.

The trumpeter led the musicians in a fast-paced tune and suddenly it was time for the fight to begin. Hilarus stood before the
catervarii
with a grim face. He raised his broad sword up high. In his other hand he held his round shield, complete with the sparkling amulet centrepiece.

“Attack!” Rufus cried behind them.

The enormous-headed
eques
was the first to spring forward on his horse. Hilarus turned to face his opponent, holding his shield in front of his face as the
eques's
long lance flew through the air towards him. The lance missed, clattering to the ground. Worse still for the horseman, a harsh trumpeting noise rang out unexpectedly somewhere in the arena. His horse reared up, whinnying and clearly terrified. The spooked horse streaked out of the amphitheatre, with his rider clinging on for dear life, leaving nothing but a cloud of dust in its wake.