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    Battle With the Britons!

    Page 6
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      “You do realize that GERMANIA is a lot farther

      Septimus’s eyes nearly popped out with rage.

      He thrust his stick in her belly. “You. Give me one

      hundred jumping jacks! NOW!”

      Septimus continued with his speech. “You’ll be up

      against Britannia’s GREATEST animal gladiators,

      and I’m expecting YOU to prove Rome’s MIGHT

      and send them packing, thus soothing the BRITONS’

      angry little brains and eradicating any thoughts they

      might have about rising up against their wonderful

      Roman benefactors. UNDERSTAND?”

      He’s giving

      me a

      headache.

      Are

      you

      nuts

      ?

      I just wanted him to

      stop shouting at me!

      “Now, this tournament begins in TWO HOURS,”

      roared Septimus, “so I want you dressed and ready

      for combat in ONE! Do NOT be late!” And he

      stalked off to the Roman fort.

      from here than it is from Rome? I’m going to have to

      kick your backside EVEN HARDER to get you there

      if you don’t shut up WITH YOUR BABBLING!”

      “So sorry, Septimus,” whimpered Felix. “Would

      you like me to give you another hundred push-ups?”

      Septimus dropped Felix back on the ground. “That

      would be very kind of you, thank you.”

      O

      W

      !

      BOO

      T!

      “What was THAT for?” shouted Julius.

      “‘WHAT WAS THAT FOR?’ You abandoned

      me in Rome, then you abandon me in this crazy

      place. What’s wrong with me? Do I smell of cheese or

      something?”

      “A little,” said Julius, rubbing his shin.

      The animals flopped to the floor, exhausted. But

      before they had a chance to catch their breath, Pliny

      the mouse scuttled into view.

      “Oh, look out!” said Julius.

      “YES, ‘LOOK OUT,’ INDEED!” snapped the tiny

      mouse.

      This is the

      last time!

      Now,

      let’s get

      working!

      I mean it!

      Cornelius kicked Julius on his other leg. “Shush!”

      “We don’t know what we’re up against here,”

      squeaked Pliny, “so let’s make sure we’re ready for

      ANYTHING!”

      Not

      yet ...

      See any half-naked

      savages?

      CHAPTER THIRTEEN

      PIGS MIGHT FLY

      With the tournament minutes away from starting,

      the arena was already packed with a mix of Roman

      dignitaries and rowdy Britons.

      Julius and Cornelius peeked through the gateway

      to check out the audience.

      Cornelius looked

      toward the north

      entrance of the arena,

      where their opponents

      would appear from.

      “I wonder who we’re

      up against. I gotta

      say, I really don’t

      like my chances

      against a bear.”

      Gulp!

      You’re up

      first!

      The cornicines suddenly blared their horns to

      declare that the games had begun.

      “Good luck, Cornelius!” said Julius. “Show those

      Brits who’s boss!”

      “Yeah! Kick some Briton BUTT!” yelled Pliny.

      The summa rudis marched into the center of the

      arena and raised his arms to silence the crowd.

      “CITIZENS OF THE ROMAN EMPIRE!” he

      A big hand slapped onto Cornelius’s shoulder.

      “FEAR NOT, WARTHOG!” barked Septimus.

      “We have a special adversary for you, Piggy!”

      ROMANS GO HOME!

      BOO!

      Beat it!

      “In our first fight today,” continued the summa rudis,

      “we will witness PIG VERSUS PIG!”

      “WHAT?” cried Cornelius. “I . . . I don’t

      understand. . . .”

      A bloodthirsty cheer erupted around the tiny

      stadium.

      “What sort of pigs do they have out here, then?”

      asked Julius.

      cried. A wave of angry BOOs rippled around the

      arena. The summa rudis let out a nervous cough.

      “Welcome to BRITONS GOT TALENT,

      where we pit ROMAN versus BRITON, as we bring

      you CHAMPIONS from the city of Rome itself!”

      GRR!

      “FLIPPIN’ HECK! He’s like a shaved version of

      Cornelius!” said Rufus.

      “Uh, THAT sort!” said Felix, pointing to the other

      end of the arena.

      GET OUT

      THERE!

      Hey!

      Bo

      ot!

      Cornelius stumbled out to the center of the arena

      to a mix of cheers and boos.

      Pericles the pig looked unimpressed. “Not him!” he

      growled. “I want the zebra!”

      The summa rudis tried to placate him. “I’m afraid

      you don’t understand, Pericles. There isn’t a choice of

      opponent. You have to fight the warthog.”

      “From Britannia,” continued the summa rudis,

      “we have PERICLES THE PIG!” A great

      roar went up, shaking the wooden structure of the

      stadium. “And from Rome, CORNELIUS THE

      WARTHOG!”

      G

      E

      T

      O

      U

      T

      O

      F

      M

      Y

      W

      A

      Y

      !

      The crowd rose to their feet as Pericles confronted

      poor Cornelius. “And that means YOU, TOO,

      ROMAN HOG!”

      “No, Roman, YOU don’t understand!”

      The enraged Pericles stood bellowing and snorting

      at the Roman arena gate. “THE ZEBRA!” he

      roared. “BRING ME THE ZEBRA! I WILL BRING

      YOU ROMANS DOWN!”

      Leave

      this to

      ME!

      “Well, that’s a good start,” said Julius with a gulp.

      The agitated crowd started booing and chanting,

      “ROMANS OUT! ROMANS OUT!”

      Septimus signaled to two watching soldiers to drag

      Pericles away.

      “No, Donkey, it is NOT a good start,” growled

      Septimus.

      “Maybe I should go on next, to calm the crowd,”

      said Julius. “Who’s the next opponent?”

      “Douglas the sheep,” replied Septimus.

      “A SHEEP?” Felix laughed. “Sheep are stupid,

      bumbling creatures!”

      Where’s

      this fluffy

      little sheep?

      The blast of the cornicines’ horns and the roar of the

      crowd signaled the entrance of Felix’s opponent.

      “WAIT!” cried Septimus. “THIS IS NO ORDINARY

      SHEEP. . . . ” But it was too late. Felix skipped into

      the arena, greeted by boos and laughter.

      I am here,

      Roman.

      “A AIIEE! YOU’RE NOT A SHEEP!” screamed

      Felix. “YOU’RE A MONSTER!”

      “ARE YE THE ZEBRA?” growled Douglas,

      thumping his shield against his horns like a drum.

      “Um . . . no,” whimpered Felix. “I’m the antelope.”

      “Then YER GOIN’ DOWN, ROMAN!”

    &n
    bsp; The crowd roared their approval.

      Back at the gate, Julius put his head in his hooves.

      “This really isn’t going to end well.”

      The cornicines signaled the start of the fight, and the

      grizzled sheep didn’t waste any time in battering his

      sword against Felix’s shield.

      C

      o

      m

      e

      o

      n

      ,

      F

      e

      li

      x

      !

      Keep your

      body behind

      that shield.

      Y

      o

      u

      c

      a

      n

      d

      o

      it

      !

      But suddenly the sheep jogged away to the far side

      of the arena. Julius turned to Pliny and the others and

      shrugged. “Where’s he going?”

      “Maybe these Britons aren’t as tough as we thought,”

      Pliny said with a laugh. “Felix has got him on the run!”

      “I wouldn’t bet on it,” warned Milus.

      Much to everyone’s surprise, the plucky antelope

      held his ground against the relentless blows.

      Douglas the sheep bent forward, pointing his

      unwieldy horns in Felix’s direction, and bellowed,

      “YE ROMANS CAN’T PUSH US AROUND

      ANYMORE! YE ARE GOING DOWN!”

      A furious and desperate Septimus turned to Julius.

      “GET OUT THERE, DONKEY!” he screamed.

      “Fight for the pride of Rome! And if you DON’T win,

      YOU AND YOUR PATHETIC FRIENDS WILL

      NEVER SEE FREEDOM AGAIN!”

      The crowd stood up and cheered their approval.

      I am

      ready!

      CHAPTER FOURTEEN

      HOO NOO, BROON COO!

      Septimus shoved Julius out into the arena. “NOW,

      MAKE YOUR EMPEROR PROUD!” he bellowed.

      A great roar erupted from the crowd as Julius

      strutted to the center of the arena.

      Go on, Julius!

      Knock

      some sense

      into these

      barbarians!

      Back at the gate, Lucia, Rufus, Milus, and Pliny

      looked on anxiously.

      “This crowd REALLY hates us,” said Rufus.

      “Actually, they hate the Romans, and that includes

      US!” replied Lucia, biting her claws.

      In Rome only a few weeks ago, Julius had entered

      the Colosseum the people’s hero, but out here it was

      a different story entirely; out here the audience saw

      Julius as the enemy and hated him and all his fellow

      Roman gladiators.

      He’d already seen Cornelius and Felix soundly

      thrashed by the ferocious Britons. He was going to

      have to draw on all his training and experience to get

      him through the next few minutes.

      We should start

      thinking about getting

      out of here!

      I’m in!

      “We’ll let Julius fight this next gladiator, then we’ll

      make a run for it,” whispered Rufus.

      “Good idea,” said Lucia. “I’ll start thinking of an

      escape plan. You in, Milus?”

      “I’m not sure I like being called a Roman,”

      whispered Rufus, trying not to let Septimus hear him.

      “Me neither,” said Lucia.

      The familiar PARP of the cornicines’ horns finally

      heralded the entrance of Julius’s opponent.

      “ALL THE WAY FROM THE HIGHLANDS OF

      CALEDONIA,” cried

      the summa rudis,

      “BERTA THE

      COW!”

      From the opposite

      gate stomped in the

      biggest, hairiest cow

      Julius or any of the

      others had ever

      seen.

      “GEEZ!” cried

      Pliny. “Look at the

      horns on HER!”

      As the

      summa rudis

      drew the two

      adversaries

      together, Julius

      gasped at the

      size of his

      opponent.

      “Are YE supposed to be THE MIGHTY

      ZEEBRA?” rasped Berta, poking Julius in the

      stomach. “Ye dunna look so mighty from where

      AH’M standin’!”

      The trumpets

      signaled the start

      of the fight, and

      Julius immediately

      shoved the huge

      cow with his shield,

      forcing her to stumble

      backward. The

      audience let out a gasp.

      What are

      YE

      lookin’ at?

      Gulp!

      Come on,

      Julius!

      He might

      actually

      do this!

      I can’t

      watch!

      The embarrassed Berta held up her massive two-

      handed sword above her head and rushed at Julius

      with a great ROAR, then brought the blade down

      onto Julius’s shield with a KLANG, sending

      thundering shockwaves through his body.

      “Yikes! I felt THAT!” shuddered Pliny.

      “I think the whole amphitheater did,” said Lucia,

      peeking through her claws.

      ROMANS, GO HOME!

      RO

      MA

      NS

      ,

      GO

      HO

      ME

      !

      RO

      M

      AN

      S,

      GO

      HO

      M

      E!

      Berta unleashed a volley of blows against the

      valiant but ultimately overpowered zebra, pinning

      him to the floor.

      “Haven’t yez got it into yer head yet, Zeebra?” spat

      Berta. “We DUNNA WANT yez Romans here!”

      “I don’t want to be here, EITHER!” cried Julius.

      The crowd was going wild. Some of them even

      started ripping up the wooden stadium seats and

      chucking the broken slats into the arena.

      Fight back,

      you miserable

      DONKEY!

      Or you’ll have

      the emperor

      to answer to!

      Gathering all his strength, Julius let out a great yell.

      He charged at the enormous cow with his shield and

      flew into an attack with his sword, but Berta easily

      parried him away, sending Julius crashing to the

      ground.

      Septimus had seen enough.

      Come on, Julius!

      GET UP!

      Gasp!

      Julius leaped up, but with a swipe of the handle of

      her sword, Berta sent him flying, knocking his helmet

      right off his head.

      The cow raised her massive sword for one final

      blow.

      Is this the best

      that ROME

      has to offer?

      My auld

      granny

      had more

      bite in her

      FALSE

      TEETH!

      The dazed Julius braced himself behind his shield,

      his energy and resolve finally spent.

      “JULIUS! NOOOOO!” cried a desperate

      Lucia.

      In fact, she

      could take

      on ALL

      of yez

      ROMAN

      NANNY

      GOATS!

      Spl

      at!

      Sp


      la

      t!

      Bo

      nk!

      Umm

      The whole arena exploded with a deep roar from the

      crowd. The empire’s so-called great zebra champion

      and ALL the Roman gladiators were BEATEN!

      Some of the audience began climbing over

      the arena wall and chanting abuse at the Roman

      dignitaries. Big chunks of wooden seating rained

      down, sending the Romans running for their lives.

      The unruly crowd then turned on the handful of

      cowering Roman soldiers who were struggling to

      keep the situation under control.

      Let’s get

      him out of

      here quickly!

      Septimus shepherded them all out the back gate

      and straight into the Roman fort next door as the

      amphitheater erupted into chaos.

      After the giant gates of the fort slammed shut

      behind them, Septimus exploded into a frenzy.

      “GET THAT STRIPEY IDIOT BACK

      HERE AT ONCE!” Septimus screamed.

      Rufus and Lucia sprinted to their stricken friend,

      who lay semiconscious on the arena floor, the

      rampaging crowd threatening to trample him

      underfoot.

      You

      call

      you

      rsel

      ves

      GL

      ADI

      AT

      OR

      S?

      You have

      brought shame

      upon our

      GREAT

      EMPIRE!

      “HADRIAN WILL BE HEARING ABOUT THIS

      OUTR AGE!” he yelled. “IN FACT, I’VE GOT

      A GOOD MIND TO SEND YOU ALL PACKING

      BACK TO ROME!”

      He grabbed Julius and pulled him right up to his face.

      “You have another fight in two days, Donkey.

      Prepare to be trained to within an inch of YOUR

      MISERABLE, FURRY LIFE!”

      The next morning, Septimus put Julius and his

     


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