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    Battle With the Britons!

    Page 3
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      instructed. Septimus marched up and down, looking

      at them sternly. “This voyage is going to be a VERY

      LONG one, and I intend to keep you all busy on

      this ship.”

      Geez! Who

      wants to see that

      horrible thing?

      I heard

      that,

      Donkey!

      Scr

      ub

      Scrub

      Ignoring the lion, Septimus continued with his

      lecture. “In fact, we will start with SCRUBBING

      this filthy deck! Everyone grab a bucket and brush.

      QUICKLY! I want it so clean and shiny I can see

      my FACE in it!”

      Farewell,

      old friend!

      Julius polished the rotten wooden deck as hard as

      he could, but he was nowhere near getting anything

      like a shine on it. “This is pointless!” he gasped. “My

      arms will fall off before we see Septimus’s ugly mug

      on this deck!”

      Felix leaned over to Julius. “Milus was right: this

      isn’t a vacation! This is WORK!” he whispered. “I

      think I would rather have stayed at gladiator school!”

      As they all furiously

      scrubbed away, the ship

      pulled out of Ostia.

      It’s SLAVERY,

      is what it is!

      I’m not doing

      THIS the

      entire trip!

      Plop!

      Lucia and Rufus inched over to see what everyone

      was whispering about.

      “Are you all moaning about doing these dumb

      chores?” asked Lucia very quietly, peering over her

      shoulder to make sure Septimus wasn’t looking.

      “Yeah, you could say that!” huffed Julius, struggling

      to keep his voice down.

      Felix plopped his brush into the bucket of soapy

      water and straightened his stiff back. “I’m pretty sure

      Cornelius shuffled over to join in the grumbling.

      What’s

      going

      on?

      Put your

      BACKS

      into it.

      GULP!

      Yikes!

      HEY! You haven’t got

      time to sit around

      CHATTING!

      “In fact,” roared Septimus, “you can all give me

      fifty jumping jacks!”

      “WHAT?” blurted Felix, getting up on his hooves.

      “Did your mom take you on vacation to boot camp

      or something? This is RIDICULOUS!”

      vacation means going away and having a nice time,”

      he whispered. “And I can tell you now, I am definitely

      NOT having a nice time —”

      That

      expla

      ins

      a

      lot

      about

      that

      bully.

      You’re

      telling

      me.

      Finally they all flopped to the floor, exhausted. “All

      I can say,” wheezed Julius, “is that this tournament

      had better be worth it!”

      “Fear not, Julius,” Cornelius announced. “I have

      seen a sign that our fortunes are favored by the gods!”

      Julius rolled his eyes. Here we go again! he thought.

      Cornelius and his la-la superstitions.

      “Yes she DID, actually,” replied Septimus,

      smiling fondly. “Best days of my life.” He thumped

      Felix on the shoulder. “YOU can give me an extra

      fifty jumping jacks for being a wise guy.” Then he

      disappeared toward his cabin.

      See how the

      wind blows in

      from the east?

      Cornelius then pointed to Felix, who had accidentally

      kicked over his bucket of water. “And see how water

      has been spilled? To spill water when the wind blows in

      from the east is a sure sign that Neptune, god of the sea,

      wishes us well on our voyage!”

      “And a sure sign that Felix is a clumsy half-wit,”

      growled Milus.

      Suddenly, Septimus reappeared on deck.

      “UH-OH! Watch out!” said Julius. “Look busy!”

      The warthog pointed to the big sail fluttering

      above them.

      Let’s see

      exactly how

      hard you’ve

      been working!

      He must have

      good eyesight.

      All I can

      see is wet

      wood.

      Septimus paced up and down, scrutinizing the

      sparkling deck.

      “Well?” Julius called out. “How did we do? Can

      you see your glorious face now?”

      Septimus spun around and glared at the cheeky

      zebra. “All I see, Donkey, is a bunch of USELESS

      DEADBEATS!”

      AAIEE!

      My eye!

      Bo

      ink

      !

      “Here’s your dinner. Take these biscuits down to

      the hold, where you’ll find your sleeping quarters. I’ll

      see you back on deck AT THE CRACK OF DAWN.”

      And he marched back to his cozy cabin.

      Julius and his companions wearily pulled

      themselves up and headed toward the wooden ladder

      that led below deck, trailing stale biscuit crumbs

      behind them.

      Septimus marched over to the exhausted animals.

      “You’ll have to do better than this tomorrow, beasts.

      The empire won’t tolerate a filthy ship.”

      From a knapsack he tossed small brown biscuits at

      the animals.

      EURGH!

      This place is

      soaked!

      He squinted into the murkiness and could just make

      out piles of broken jugs and rotted crates from voyages

      past. As he edged forward, his face was suddenly

      tangled up in what felt like a huge cobweb.

      CHAPTER FIVE

      STINK HOLE

      As they clambered down the slippery ladder, they

      found a gloomy, very stinky hold. Julius jumped down

      the last few steps, only to splash into a big puddle.

      ARR! The spiders

      have got us, too!

      We’re

      trapped!

      AAIEE!

      Help!

      I’ve

      been

      captured

      by spiders!

      The others came rushing over to rescue their

      stricken friend. “Don’t panic, Julius!” called Cornelius.

      “We’ll save you!” But the more they tried to pull Julius

      free, the more everyone got twisted up in the web.

      It’s

      not

      a

      cob

      we

      b,

      you

      foo

      ls.

      It’s

      a

      ham

      mo

      ck!

      “A hammock? What’s that?” asked Julius.

      “What does it look like?” said Milus, lounging back

      comfortably. “It’s a BED!”

      “A BED?” cried Julius, befuddled. “How

      EXCITING!” He pulled the net off his friends and

      smoothed it out with his hooves. “Anything’s got to

      be better than those rotten sleeping cells back in

      Rome!” He laughed as he leaped into the air, expecting

      to flop onto his strange new bed. But instead he fell

      From behind them came a low, growly laugh.

      Actually,

      I take that

      back.


      As he pulled himself up and wiped muddy water

      off his bottom, Julius let out a big sigh. “I’m not sure

      I can put up with these traveling conditions.”

      Cornelius tentatively pulled himself up onto a

      hammock, which seemed to hold his weight as it

      swayed with the rocking ship. “Hadrian thinks we’re

      all People’s Champions, but I think we’re being

      treated pretty badly, don’t you?”

      right through the threadbare net and straight into the

      big puddle on the floor.

      I have A PLAN!

      She signaled to Rufus to check whether any

      Romans were listening from above. The giraffe poked

      his head up, then gave the all clear. The crocodile

      gathered everyone into a huddle.

      “I tried to warn you!” said Milus. “These Romans

      are rotten to the core!”

      “But what should we do?” asked Julius. “We’re

      the PEOPLE’S CHAMPIONS! We should not be

      scrubbing floors!”

      Lucia suddenly put up her claw. “Do not fear, my

      friends,” she whispered, beckoning them to come

      closer.

      I’m still itching

      after your last

      escape plan!

      Scr

      atc

      h!

      S

      c

      r

      a

      t

      c

      h

      !

      “There’ll be no mustaches — I promise,” replied

      Lucia.

      “But we will be wearing brightly colored checked

      pants again, right?” asked Felix. “I thought I looked

      PRETTY spiffy in those fancy pants last time.”

      Lucia shook her head. “Sorry, Felix, no fancy

      pants, either.”

      Felix let out a big HUFF and kicked a clay pot.

      “Before you start,” interrupted Cornelius, “just so

      you know, I’m NOT wearing a stupid mustache.” He

      scratched his nose.

      Nobody

      say a

      word.

      “What’s the plan then, Lucia?” whispered Julius,

      rubbing his hooves together with anticipation. “Spill

      the beans!”

      “Check this out!” she said, and from her knapsack

      she pulled out some very fine chain mail. “Rufus and

      I were poking around down here, and we found a

      whole stash of this stuff!”

      “This is DEFINITELY the worst vacation I’ve ever

      been on!” He sprang grumpily into his hammock,

      which flipped him over and dumped him onto

      the floor.

      W

      e’

      re

      d

      re

      ss

      in

      g

      up

      as

      FI

      SH

      !

      In fact, I

      think there’s

      enough for

      ALL of us.

      “Enough? Enough for what?” asked Cornelius

      suspiciously. “Are we dressing up as soldiers and

      FIGHTING our way off the ship?”

      “Nope!” said Lucia as she began wrapping herself

      in the chain mail.

      We’re all

      going to die,

      aren’t we?

      Uh ...

      Right.

      “FISH?” everyone echoed in unison.

      “Yes!” replied Lucia proudly. “This might not look

      like much at the moment —”

      “You can say THAT again,” growled Milus.

      “BUT,” she continued, ignoring the lion, “once

      Rufus and I have finished making the costumes, we’ll

      all dress up as FISH, sneak up on deck, and JUMP

      into the sea!”

      Cornelius was not impressed. “This has to be

      the most RIDICULOUS idea I’ve EVER heard!” He

      tugged at Lucia’s chain mail. “As soon as Septimus or

      one of the other Romans hears a big splash, they’ll

      look overboard and see us fools swimming around.”

      “EXACTLY!” chimed in Rufus. “But they won’t see

      US. . . . They’ll see FISH!” He held out his hooves as

      if he’d just performed the most amazing magic trick.

      Hmmm...

      You know

      what?

      I actually

      think this

      could work.

      “It IS pretty shiny and slippery, just like fish scales,”

      he said, holding it up to the light. “Maybe it’s worth

      a shot!” He turned to the others. “Come on! Do you

      want to be scrubbing moldy decks and doing jumping

      jacks all the way to Britannia?”

      Lucia looked at the blank faces around the room.

      “And then we swim away and get FREE!” she added

      enthusiastically. “Don’t you see? The chain mail looks

      like shiny fish scales! It’s an AWESOME plan!”

      Julius jumped up and had a good look at the chain

      mail for himself.

      We can have

      the longest

      vacay EVER!

      The

      n

      let’s

      dres

      s

      up

      as

      FISH

      and

      SWIM

      to

      the

      near

      est

      beac

      h!

      “OK, I’ll do it,” said Felix. “But only if I can be a

      halibut.”

      Julius patted him on his shoulder. “You can be

      whatever fish you want.”

      Felix jumped up and punched the air with his hoof.

      “Then I’m IN!” he roared.

      Julius turned to Cornelius. “And you?”

      Everyone shook their heads.

      “NO. I just wanted a nice vacation like they

      promised,” wailed Felix.

      What? You

      expect me to stay

      on this boat with

      THIS GRUMP?

      Hey!

      “I’m coming, too!” said Milus. “It’s a stupid plan,

      but I’m not hanging around on this lousy ship.”

      “Then it’s decided!” declared Julius. “We’ll help

      Lucia and Rufus make the costumes, and we’ll make

      our escape as soon as the sun rises!”

      Wakey

      wakey,

      everyone.

      Time to

      get this

      show on

      the road.

      CHAPTER SIX

      GONE FISHING

      “WAKE UP, YOU DEADBEATS!”

      Septimus’s voice boomed down the hatch. “TIME

      TO GET UP AND SCRUB THOSE DECKS!”

      Julius rubbed his tired, bleary eyes with his hooves.

      They’d been up all night making fish costumes, and

      now they had to put their plan into action.

      I’ll have my costume

      in my bucket!

      “As soon as Septimus and the crew go to look at all

      you ‘fishes,’ I’ll throw this on, then dive in after you,”

      said Julius. “OK!” He bundled his fish costume into

      the bucket. “Are we all ready?”

      “We’re going to need a distraction,” said Julius.

      “I’ll go up on deck and pretend to scrub. I’ll keep

      Septimus chatting while you all jump in the sea.”

      “But what about you?” asked Cornelius. “Aren’t

      you coming with us?”

      Nearly.

      Hold on!

      Hey
    ! Have

      I got your

      costume?

      Ready!

      This is

      huge!

      Yep!

      “Don’t forget,” said Julius as he climbed the ladder,

      “wait till I’ve got Septimus talking before you jump

      overboard!”

      He scampered up the ladder and out onto the deck,

      whistling innocently. He waltzed over to the far end

      of the boat and started pretending to scrub the deck.

      Septimus stormed over to him. “WHAT’S GOING

      ON, DONKEY? WHERE ARE THE REST OF

      THE LAZY BEASTS?”

      “That’s our cue, lads!” whispered Lucia, and they

      sneaked up the ladder and out onto the deck.

      I can’t see

      where I’m

      going!

      Be quiet!

      This way.

      Hurry!

      Is it all in

      the wrist or

      the elbow?

      Scrub!

      ?

      Sc

      ru

      b!

      Septimus looked furious. “What are you babbling

      about, Donkey? I have no time for this nonsense!”

      Behind Septimus there was a sudden shrill scream.

      Julius kept Septimus talking to distract him.

      A

      A

      IE

      E

      !

      “WHAT IN JUPITER’S BEARD . . . ?”

      roared Septimus. He dashed to the side of the ship

      and saw a strange mass of figures thrashing about in

      the water.

      “MAN OVERBOARD!” came the cry from the

      helmsman.

      Septimus leaned over for a closer look. “Those aren’t

      men! THAT’S A CROCODILE, A WARTHOG,

      A GIRAFFE, A LION, AND AN ANTELOPE!”

      Having hastily put on his fish disguise, Julius

      flip-flapped to the side of the boat. “Wait! Surely

      they’re FISH!” he cried. “See their shiny scales?

      Is that . . . a GIANT HALIBUT? Best let them go,

      Septimus!”

     


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