For my wonderful friend
and studio-mate, Sarah McIntyre
Special thanks as always to Lizzie and Jack, and to Lucy,
for their editorial and designer skillz and their deep reserves of patience
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either
products of the author’s imagination or, if real, are used fictitiously.
Copyright © 2016 by Gary Northfield
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, transmitted,
or stored in an information retrieval system in any form or by any means,
graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, taping, and
recording, without prior written permission from the publisher.
First U.S. electronic edition 2018
Library of Congress Catalog Card Number pending
This book was typeset in Stempel Schneidler.
Candlewick Press
99 Dover Street
Somerville, Massachusetts 02144
visit us at www.candlewick.com
CONTENTS
INTRODUCTION
vi
1: THE PEOPLE’S CHAMPION
I
2: ZEBRAMANIA!
XVIII
3: ROMAN HOLIDAY!
XXXIII
4: ALL ABOARD!
XLIV
5: STINK HOLE
LIX
6: GONE FISHING
LXXI
7: LAND OF HOPE AND GORY
LXXXIII
8: BRITON ROCK
XCIV
9: LONDINIUM CALLING
CVI
10: HOME AWAY FROM HOME
CXIV
11: MUD, SWEAT, AND TEARS
CXXIV
12: BRITONS GOT TALENT
CXXXVIII
13: PIGS MIGHT FLY
CXLIV
14: HOO NOO, BROON COO!
CLIX
15: HOLE LOT OF TROUBLE
CLXXV
16: BOIL AND BUBBLE
CXCII
17: WHEN IN LONDINIUM
CCII
18: HE CAME, HE SAW, HE LOCKED HIM UP
CCXVI
19: FINAL FRONTIER
CCXXIII
20: HADRIAN’S BRAWL
CCXXVIII
21: HE AIN’T HEAVY . . .
CCXLIV
22: BROTHERS IN ARMS
CCLIV
EPILOGUE
CCLIX
ROMAN NUMERALS
CCLXIII
FURTHER INFORMATION:
CCLXVII
WHAT THE ROMANS BROUGHT TO BRITAIN
FELIX’S AWESOME ROCK COLLECTION
CCLXXI
INTRODUCTION
So, you think you know about
JULIUS
ZEBRA?
knowledgeable
gnu
Why, yes,
I do!
O
U
R
H
A
N
D
S
O
M
E
H
E
R
O
!
Well, you’re probably
WRONG!
W
h
a
t
?
O
U
T
R
A
G
E
O
U
S
!
grumpy
gnu
Kind of a loser!
Probably eaten
by a lion ...
CHOMP!
N
o
t
a
g
a
i
n
!
S
ig
h
.
.
.
Hates
the
stinky
lake!
Lick!
W
ha
t
most
people
THINK
they
know
about
JULIUS
ZEBRA!
B
le
u
r
g
h
!
T
a
s
t
e
s
d
is
g
u
s
t
i
n
g
!
Mean
brother!
It’s
all he
deserves.
Ha, ha!
EEEEE!
Put me down!
G
r
o
s
s
w
a
t
e
r
I know
it all!
Likes eating oatmeal!
Actually gets along
well with lions!
CHAM
PION
GLAD
IATOR
!
Yum!
But THIS is what
he’s REALLY
LIKE!
C
r
u
n
c
h
y
b
e
e
t
le
s!
Julius! Your
sword!
KLONK!
K
L
O
N
K
!
O
w
!
W
a
t
c
h
it
!
See ya!
ZEBRA!
ZEBRA!
This I
gotta see!
Ugh!
What
nonsense!
J
u
li
u
s’
s
b
r
o
t
h
e
r
,
B
r
u
t
u
s
There’s only one zebra
champion in the world!
Igno
re
him
.
He’s
just
jea
lous
!
And that’s ME!
EXCITING, RIGHT?
Julius wasn’t quite like other zebras. Not only did
he live during ROMAN TIMES, but he was also the
We love
you, Julius!
Gasp!
It’s really
him!
All hail
Julius!
Julius!
Walking through the noisy, smelly, bustling streets
of Rome, Julius felt like Caesar himself! The place
smelled worse than a gnu’s backside, a lot like the
stinky lake back home, but here, unlike back home,
everybody LOVED him.
CHAPTER ONE
THE PEOPLE
’S
CHAMPION
This
is the
greatest
day of
my life.
It’s true!
You really
exist!
I do.
Scurrying next to Julius was his friend Cornelius
the warthog. Cornelius was a rather small fellow, and
in the melee of the crowded street, he had to fight
hard not to be stepped on.
Since his triumphant, surprise victory at Rome’s
greatest amphitheater, the Colosseum, only a month
ago, Julius had been transformed into a GLADIATOR
SUPERSTAR!
Stories of his deeds had spread like wildfire
throughout the vast empire. People were coming
from all over just to see Julius fight, and he was loving
every minute of it.
Come on, Julius!
We should
head back!
We don’t want
to miss your
big fight!
“Stop panicking, Cornelius!” said Julius as he
waved merrily to his fans. “We have PLENTY of time.
Let the people of Rome enjoy their hero walking
among them!”
Cornelius tutted. “Careful — soon your head might
get too big to walk down these narrow streets.”
Just then, a scruffy young girl approached Julius,
holding out a ratty parchment.
Excuse me, Mr. Zebra,
sir? May I have your
hoofprint, please?
I’m such
a big fan
of yours.
Julius ruffled the little girl’s hair. “Of course, my
dear little thing — do you have any ink?”
The girl looked very sad. “No . . .” She sighed.
Julius looked around the street to see what he
could use to make a print. “How about if I dipped my
hoof in mud? You’d have your very own Julius Zebra
muddy hoofprint!”
The little girl’s face lit up. “Oh, yes, please, Mr.
Zebra. That would be wonderful! Thank you!”
Julius bent down and squished his front right hoof
into the mud, then placed it very carefully onto the
girl’s parchment. He pulled his hoof away to reveal a
perfect print.
“THAT IS SO AMAZING! THANK YOU,
MR. ZEBRA!” squeaked the girl. “I LOVE YOU!”
She kissed the print and ran off to a group of her
friends standing nearby, who all squealed like little
mice and jumped for joy at such an exciting souvenir.
Julius sniffed his hoof, screwing up his nostrils.
“You know, I don’t think that was actually mud.”
He passed his hoof
to Cornelius to sniff.
P.
U.
!
And that
girl kissed
it, too!
SQUEE!
You will not
believe what
I just bought
with my life
savings!
“Let me guess, Felix,” said Julius. “Is it a rock?”
“Well,” said Felix proudly, “what I have here is
an actual piece of the PYRAMID OF GIZA IN
EGYPT!”
“Quick!” said Cornelius. “Let’s go the other way.
We’ll be long gone before she notices.” And they
scooted off into the crowds.
“WAIT!” cried a voice. “WHERE ARE YOU
GOING? WAIT FOR ME!” From one of the many
shops that lined the street bounded a lively antelope
clutching a lump of rock.
“Forget all that,” said Julius. “Where are the others?
We promised to meet them here at noon!”
“Yes!” agreed Cornelius. “As I keep saying, we
need to head back to the Colosseum. Julius has an
important fight this afternoon in front of the emperor
to celebrate the Festival of Quinquatria!”
My rocks are
nonsense only to
an untrained eye.
Soon I’ll
have the
greatest rock
collection
in ROME!
Cornelius examined the rock carefully. “The only
‘Giza’ this rock has seen is the sneaky geezer who
sold you this worthless junk!” he said with a huff.
“These Roman shopkeepers see you coming a mile
away, Felix. I don’t know why you keep buying these
stupid rocks.”
The festival
of Queen
Coconut?
What’s THAT
all about?
“The Festival of Quinquatria!” corrected Cornelius.
“It is a festival to honor Minerva. She’s the goddess
of wisdom, so it’s not surprising you’ve never heard
of her.”
“Well, that’s RUDE!” snorted Felix.
Julius put his arms around his friends. “Stop it
now, you two!” he said with a laugh. “Don’t forget,
Emperor Hadrian has finally PROMISED us our
FREEDOM if I win this fight!”
“JULIUS!” cried a voice in the crowd. “JULIUS,
WAIT!”
We
smashed
the rotten
Blues right
off the
track.
The
Gree
ns
won
agai
n!
“Rufus found you a present, too!” she squealed.
“He did?” asked Julius excitedly, clapping his
hooves. A long shadow loomed over Julius, who
looked up to see his friend Rufus the giraffe.
“I did!” replied Rufus, and he handed a tiny
statuette to the eager zebra.
Julius turned around, expecting to greet one
of his many fans, but was instead faced with the
beaming sharp teeth of a smiling crocodile.
“LUCIA!” said Julius, pleased to see his friend.
“How was the chariot racing?”
“A-MA-ZING!” she said.
GASP!
“That’s AWESOME!” exclaimed Felix. “It even
has your crazy bug-eyes!”
Julius fired a dirty look toward Felix. “WHAT
crazy bug-eyes?”
Rufus interjected, “They had a big stall selling
hundreds of them! You are REALLY famous now!”
As if on cue, an excited mob started to crowd
around the animals to see the gladiator superstar
walking down their street.
“Look! It’s a
figurine of YOU!”
said Lucia.
Julius!
Julius!
Our
hero!
Yikes!
Let me
touch your
stripes!
The animal friends pushed through the frenzied
crowd onto the main road that ran through the
heart of Rome. Dashing under the arches of the
great aqueduct and past the grand palace that sat
up on the hill, they headed for the huge stone
stadium looming large on the horizon.
“Come on!” said Cornelius. “We really should
head back before this bunch tears us apart.”
L
a
st
o
n
e
th
e
re
is
a
n
a
n
te
lo
p
e
’s
b
o
tt
o
m
!
I heard
that!
They raced past the crowd massing around
the Colosseum and then dashed right PAST the
Colosseum.
Instead, they ran into an unassuming square
building next to the amphitheater, past the gruff
guards at the door, and into a huge courtyard that
housed its own mini-arena.
Quickly!
This was Ludus Magnus, Rome’s biggest and best
gladiator school and home to Julius and his pals.
The click-clack of wooden swords could be heard as
gladiators honed their fighting skills, but there was
no time to stand and watch. They raced downstairs
toward the tunnel that led directly to the underbelly
of the Colosseum, only to find their way blocked
by a scrawny, surly lion.
Yo
u’r
e
lat
e!
“Sorry, Milus!” gasped Julius, catching his
breath. “But we had a terrible time trying to
outrun my hordes of fans!”
Milus just tutted and stepped to one side. “You
have a hard life, Zebra,” he growled sarcastically.
“Anyway, it’s not me you’ve got to apologize to.
It’s PLINY!”
Julius slapped his forehead with his hoof. “Oh,
no! I promised Pliny I’d meet him early to brush up
on those new sword moves he’s been teaching me.”
FINALLY!
Pliny!
Glad you
remembered
me!
The little mouse threw a gold helmet at Julius.
“You’d better get yourself suited and booted!”
he said. “If you’re ever gonna make a good
impression in front of Hadrian, then today has to
be the day!”
He sprinted down the tunnel, the stench of the
rancid dungeons hitting his nose as he ran. He
careered around a corner, past the cages with the
growling leopards, and toward one of the many
lifts that brought the animals up into the arena.
But what about the sword moves?
We were
going to
practice
them!
“Aw, you don’t need no extra training!” Pliny
laughed. “Your opponent is as useless as ALL the
other animals you’ve had to face.” The little mouse
gave Julius a friendly punch on his shin. “There
ain’t no animal gladiator like YOU, Julianne!”
“It’s JULIUS, not Julianne!” said Julius, rolling
his eyes. “How many times do I have to tell you?”
Battle With the Britons! Page 1