Gladiator Clash (Time Hunters, Book 1) (6 page)

Thwunk!
Isis's arrow hit the apple, splitting it in two.

“It seems we've found our archer,” Rufus said. “This child will fight against Hilarus!”

Tom cheered and thumped the air. He gave Isis the thumbs up. The other trainees clapped and whistled. Some laughed and wiped their brows dramatically, as though Isis's amazing performance had got them off the hook… for now.

“Your turn,” said Isis as she cantered back to Tom. “Good luck.”

Tom needed luck, but he thought he might have a secret move that he hoped would be enough to get him chosen as a
catervarii
. A
dimachaerus
fought with two swords, and Tom thought he might just have a chance.

Tom picked up two heavy swords, his heart beating wildly as he thought about what he had to do. His muscles immediately screamed with the weight, his arms were already tired. Tom started to spin around in a circle and the swords lifted up easily. Suddenly, he became just like the blades that whizzed around in Mum's food processor.

“I'm the school champion at doing helicopters,” he shouted to Isis.

“
What?
” Isis asked, backing away. Tom slowed down and gradually came to a stop without even stumbling. “Spinning round,” he explained. “I never feel dizzy. I don't fall over – even when I've been on a roundabout for ages.”

“Well, let's just hope you don't fall down now,” Isis said. “The winner is the last man standing.”

“Don't worry, with my super spinning powers, the momentum will keep the swords in the air. Hilarus won't dare come near me!” Tom smiled at Isis and strode purposefully up to Rufus.

“I want to try out as a
dimachaerus
,” Tom said.

Rufus towered above Tom. “You do, do you?” he asked, grinning. “You do know you have to have the heart of a lion, or be as mad as a goat to fight without any armour or a shield? Especially against Hilarus.”

Tom gulped. Wearing no armour would make fighting Hilarus even more dangerous. But he didn't have a choice – this was his last chance to get picked.

“I'm serious,” Tom said. “Let me try.”

Rufus nodded and treated Tom to a nasty smile. “You'll be a small but easy target. The crowd will love it!” He turned to the other trainees. “Any more of you stinking prisoners stupid or brave enough to try out as a
dimachaerus
?” he shouted to the group.

The others hung back in the shade of an archway and edged further into the colonnade. Before Rufus could force them, one other trainee came forward.

“I've heard prisoners who fight bravely are sometimes freed. Is that true?” the man asked.

“Only if the crowd decides they've fought like a hero. It hardly ever happens so I wouldn't bank on it,” Rufus said.

The man looked into Rufus's eyes. “Well, if beating Hilarus gives me a chance of being freed, I will try out,” he said.

Tom knew this man's name was Marcus. He was young, but a grown-up and much taller and broader than Tom. Marcus stood in his grubby loincloth, with his hands on his hips and his strong legs planted firmly on the ground. Tom could see from the set of his jaw that he was just as determined to win as Tom was.

Tom could feel his heart sinking. This didn't look good.

Isis ran over to his side. “Don't worry, I'm going to help you,” she whispered into Tom's ear.

“How can you possibly help me?” Tom asked, sighing.

Isis tutted. “You think you're so clever with your modern science and inventions, Professor Smartypants,” she said. “But when I was in Egypt, I learned all about plants and herbs.”

“I don't understand,” Tom said, running a hand through his dark blond curls. “Are you planning on luring Marcus into a garden to smell the flowers?”

Isis rolled her eyes. “You're such a silly boy! No, there's a plant growing up the fence. See it over there?” She pointed. “It's got leaves that split into three sections. I know exactly what to do with it!

Tom looked where she was pointing and saw some weeds growing along the edges of the dry, dusty courtyard. He couldn't see how they could possibly help him.

Isis's eyes shone with mischief. Without saying another word, she walked over to the low fence and carefully picked a handful of leaves from the plant she had pointed out.

Tom watched as Isis ambled back across the arena, whistling as though she had just been for a stroll. Pausing near the weapons, she pretended to lace up her sandals. Tom saw her rub the leaves on the handles of two of the swords. She was so quick that nobody seemed to notice her.

“Don't pick those swords,” Isis said to Tom, thumping him on the back and looking pleased with herself. Tom could feel her excitement prickle up his arms.

“Right, you two,” ordered Rufus. “Let's get this fight over with. Get your equipment and let's begin. The winner will be the last of the
catervarii
.”

Tom raced forward and chose the swords that Isis hadn't touched. Marcus picked up his weapons and the bout began. Energy surged through Tom's body. He raised the heavy swords, swiping the air as he looked around for his opponent.

“Watch out, Tom!” Isis cried from the sidelines.

Tom turned to see Marcus hurtling towards him with both his swords outstretched. He lunged straight for Tom's throat with the sword in his right hand.

Tom leaped backwards, narrowly missing the lethal blade. He started to spin round and, sure enough, Marcus started to retreat.

Whacka-whacka-whacka-whacka
. Tom spun his swords through the air just like the blades on a helicopter. They made a noise which Tom thought was the coolest thing ever but which Marcus, judging by the shade of green he was turning, found utterly frightening.

“Wheeheeee!” Tom shouted, spinning faster and faster on the spot.

Marcus swiped uselessly in his direction, but even through the blur, Tom could see his opponent was too scared to come closer.

“Go on, Marcus!” one of the trainees shouted. “Slit the boy's gizzard!”

As if buoyed by the support, Marcus came at Tom with a frenzied attack, knocking him over. Their swords clashed at the hilts.

Tom gulped. Although he wasn't dizzy, he was no match for Marcus's superior height and strength. He could feel his sword hand giving way to the force of Marcus's weapon. But then…

“Ow!” Marcus suddenly staggered away. “Ow, my hands! It's unbearable!”

Tom stood and watched as Marcus dropped his swords and started to dance around, rubbing his hands madly against his loincloth.

“By the gods! It itches! Someone make it stop!” Marcus cried, scratching at the palms of his hands.

Tom watched in amazement as Marcus stumbled across the sandy arena to the sidelines. He dunked his hands into a trough of water meant for the horses. The man's palms were bright red.

Tom looked over at Isis, who gave him a wink.

Rufus cracked his whip to get everyone's attention.

“That settles it!” he said. “The boy has won. He will fight Hilarus!”

Tom punched the air and shouted, “YES!” But the smile slid quickly from his face when he suddenly realised what that meant.

Now he'd have to fight against a deadly gladiator, or be stuck in Ancient Rome forever.

“We need a plan,” Tom whispered to Isis. He'd read enough history books to know that you needed a strategy if you wanted to win a battle.

“How about if I distract him with my beauty, then you run in and steal the amulet,” Isis suggested.

Tom rolled his eyes. He thought for a moment. “Actually, distracting him isn't a bad idea. How about if I try to make him dizzy with my spinning swords, so you can grab the amulet.”

“Sounds good to me,” said Isis.

“Come on, you two,” Rufus said. “You should have your costumes on by now. It doesn't take all day.”

Tom and Isis were standing with the other trainees in a cool antechamber beneath the packed Coliseum. Everyone was strapping on armour, tightening their outfits and arranging the feathers in their helmets. The crowd roared in the seating above.

Isis pointed at Tom's bare chest and loincloth. She started to laugh.

“Next to all these hulking great men in armour, you look like a baby in a nappy!” she teased.

Tom looked at Isis. On her head she wore a pointed helmet. She clutched her bow in her hand. Her quiver full of arrows was slung over her shoulder. She was wearing shiny body armour made from metal scales.

“Well, you look like… a stupid big fish! So there,” he said.

Isis opened her mouth to respond but was silenced by Rufus as he thrust a piece of silky material into her free hand. He passed the same thing to Tom.

“What are these?” Tom asked, smoothing the fabric out, and saw that it was a banner of some sort.

“They're sashes. Atillius always likes to advertise his other businesses in front of the arena crowds. He owns you, so you have to do it. Put them on.”

Tom frowned as he read the slogan written down the length of the white silky sash. He translated the Latin for Isis.

“‘Expandable loincloths. Atillius has got even the biggest bums covered!'” he read. “Hey, Isis! We're going to advertise big pants!”

Tom started to guffaw with laughter as he slipped his sash over his head but Isis stood rooted to the spot, her face crumpled into a thunderous expression.

“I… am…
not
… wearing…
that!
” she spat. She thrust her sash into Tom's hands. “You wear it!”

“I've already got one,” Tom said.

“You have a bare chest. You should be thanking me. I'm offering you extra clothes.”

Tom looped Isis's sash over the point on her helmet so that it hung down over her face with ‘BIGGEST BUM' visible. Several of the other trainees noticed and started cackling with laughter.

Even as Rufus herded the trainees up the stone steps to the arena entrance, Tom and Isis were still squabbling over the sash.

“I command you to wear it!” Isis said, eyes flashing with anger.