The Eagle of Rome A Lottie Lipton Adventure

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The Eagle of Rome A Lottie Lipton Adventure Page 2

by Dan Metcalf

“Wow!” said Lottie. “Has London really been around since Roman times?”

  “Even longer,” said Uncle Bert. He polished his glasses so he could see the inscription better. “Before the Romans arrived, there was a tribe of Britons that lived here. They called it Llon dyn, which means ‘ship hill’. The Romans thought it was a good place for a fort and so they built the settlement up into the biggest Roman town in the country. It even had a large port and an amphitheatre where you could watch gladiators fight each other.”

  “Ugh!” said Lottie. “That’s horrible!”

  Reg had wandered all the way over to the far side of the burial ground and was furiously rubbing at a door that he had found. He just couldn’t help himself when it came to cleaning. It was an ornate design, and there were Roman columns on each side of it, which had been carved from white marble.

  “This ain’t Latin,” Reg called over. “I don’t know what it is.”

  They joined the caretaker and puzzled over the markings on the wall.

  “You’re on top form today Reg,” said Lottie. “I think you’ve found the next clue!”

  Reg grinned and took a bow.

  “I find ’em, you solve ’em!”

  Lottie could see that the markings on the door were in a grid. Inside each square were symbols that she recognised, but couldn’t quite work out.

  “Where have I seen these before?” she muttered to herself. Then she remembered. “That’s it! The library at the museum has lots of books with these markings. They’re Roman numerals!” She hastily pulled out her detective’s notebook. She flipped through the pages until she found the right one.

  “Romans didn’t use the numbers we use,” Lottie explained to Reg. “They used ‘I’ for one, then ‘II’ for two, and so on.”

  Uncle Bert looked down at the ground and found lots of tiles with Roman numerals lying on the floor.

  “It looks as though we need to complete the grid,” he said. “Every line that goes up and down must have the numbers one to six in it. Also, the smaller boxes must have the numbers one to six in them too, and it looks as though you can’t repeat numbers. I suppose these tiles slot in to the empty spaces, which then opens the door.”

  Reg scratched his head.

  “You lost me at numerals.”

  Lottie was almost breathless with excitement. Behind that door could be the lost Eagle of the Ninth Legion! She tried to concentrate and complete the puzzle in front of her.

  Lottie concentrated and placed the tiles into the spaces on the grid. Uncle Bert tried to help, but kept making mistakes so Lottie soon gave him the job of handing her the tiles.

  “Four, please,” she said. “That’s ‘IV’.”

  “I know!” said Uncle Bert, getting muddled with his fours and sixes. Soon they had just one square left. Lottie’s heart was pounding a drumbeat on her ribcage. She placed it in the space to complete the grid:

  There was a moment of silence, interrupted only by the passing rumble of a bus on the road above their heads. Then there was a series of clicks and clunks – the door had unlocked!

  “Here we go!” said Lottie as she pulled open the ancient door.

  Chapter Four

  “By the power of Jupiter!” exclaimed Uncle Bert.

  “Jeepers!” cried Lottie.

  “Bloomin’ ’eck!” said Reg.

  The three stood on a ledge in a cave. The ledge looked out over a sheer drop to some sharp rocks below them. A fall or slip would send them tumbling to their peril! Lottie gulped with nerves. She wanted to step back into the burial site, but something on the other side of the cave caught her eye. A glint of metal, shining in the darkness.

  “The Eagle!” she whispered as she pointed to where it lay.

  Reg and Uncle Bert squinted in the direction Lottie was pointing and could make out the outline of the eagle, its proud beak looking as shiny as ever.

  Light shone down like spotlights through minuscule cracks in the cave roof. This illuminated the ledge they were on, but also cast some light to reveal the floor in front of them – one that connected the ledge they were on to the other side of the cave where the eagle lay. Laid out on hexagonal tiles were letters. There did not seem to be a pattern to them, but Lottie knew that this must be her next task.

  Uncle Bert leant against the wall of the cave and felt something cold on his back. He turned to see a plaque on the wall with a message written on it in Latin. He peered at it and began to translate it.

  “How much would you be willing to bet that if I stepped on the wrong tile, I’d fall down to the spiky rocks below?” said Lottie. She had been in scrapes before where a booby-trapped puzzle could mean getting seriously hurt, so she wasn’t about to take any chances.

  “Oh, I’d be willing to bet your life...”

  The voice came from behind them, making them all jump. They turned to see the pristine black bob of Lady Viola Kirton. She smiled at them like a snake choosing which mouse to eat first.

  “How on Earth did you find us?” asked Uncle Bert. Lady Viola strolled along the ledge, looking over to the Eagle and licking her lips.

  “Once I had exhausted the red herring of London Zoo, I naturally came to Trafalgar Square, where a bronze lion with its mouth gaping open had attracted some attention. I must say, I hadn’t expected to see your little group here. You should leave treasure hunting to the experts, you know.”

  Lottie bristled with anger.

  “We are the experts!” she shouted. “We weren’t going to let you get the Eagle and sell it. It would just sit in a house somewhere, where no one could see it. It should be in a museum. Our museum!”

  Lady Viola let out a long laugh which echoed around the cave.

  “You’ve got spirit, little one!” she said. “But I’ve got the experience. How were you planning to get across this little path?”

  Uncle Bert stepped in between Lady Viola and Lottie.

  “We would use our brains, of course,” he said. “Anyway, I’ve just found this plaque on the wall. It will tell us exactly what to do.”

  “Uncle Bert! Don’t tell her what to do!”

  Uncle Bert looked flustered as he realised he had let their competition in on their secret.

  “Don’t worry, it’s in Latin, which I doubt she has bothered to learn.”

  Lady Viola took one glance at the plaque and translated it instantly.

  “‘All hail Gaius, Father of his Country, the true Emperor’,” she said. “Hmm, there’s only one Emperor I know of called Gaius...”

  She stepped forward to walk on the tiles, placing her boot on one with a ‘J’ on it. She looked shocked when it crumbled underneath her. She wobbled slightly but managed to fall backwards onto the ledge.

  “Lottie, quick!” said Uncle Bert. “The answer is Julius Caesar! You must step on the right letters, but you can’t jump over any. One slip would mean the end. Pick only the tiles that directly join onto the one you are standing on. Go!”

  Lottie knew she had to beat Lady Viola across the cave, but she had to pick the right path. She held her breath and stood on her first tile...

  Step by step, Lottie picked her tiles carefully, knowing each time she placed her foot down, it could crumble underneath her. Lady Viola followed her, hopping from one tile to another.

  Some crumbled underneath her but she always managed to save herself from falling to the rocks below. Lottie neared the Eagle and realised she had done it!

  She grabbed the Eagle and held it close to her. It was heavy and seemed to shine with light, as though it was pleased that it was Lottie who had picked it up, not Lady Viola. Lottie felt proud that she had got it, but there was no time to celebrate as Lady Viola was on her tail! Lottie heard a creak and the sound of stone shifting. She looked up to see a space opening up in the roof of the cave above her. With Lady Viola directly behind her, Lottie had no choice but to climb up the wall of the cave. Still managing to hold the Eagle in one hand, she climbed up towards the light of the world above...

&
nbsp; Chapter Five

  Lottie emerged on the far side of Trafalgar Square, popping up from a hole that had opened in the pavement. As she came up, blinking into the light, a crowd of onlookers saw her and came flocking towards her. Two policemen in their blue suits attempted to keep the crowd away.

  “’Ello Miss,” said one of the policemen. “What have you got there, then?”

  Lottie did not have time to reply before Lady Viola came out of the hole too, red-faced and seething with anger. The crowd recognised her and clapped politely.

  “Give me that eagle!” she roared. Her face was curled into a snarl. The crowd, confused at why the normally elegant Lady Viola Kirton was shouting at a little girl and trying to steal her bronze statue, gasped and stopped their applause.

  “This belongs to the Great British public!” said Lottie, hugging the Eagle tight. Lady Viola made a grab for it, but the policeman got in between them. “I found it and I claim it on behalf of the British Museum,” Lottie said.

  Reg and Uncle Bert climbed out of the hole and went to protect Lottie. The second policeman had to hold back Lady Viola as she ranted and spat with anger.

  “I’m the treasure hunter! I’m the one who deserves that Eagle! You’re nothing but a snot-faced, snivelling little brat!”

  The crowd gasped and Lottie noticed two reporters at the back, noting down everything Lady Viola was saying.

  “Looks like the newspapers will finally get to see the real you,” Lottie smiled, nodding towards the reporters. Lady Viola looked over at them and screamed.

  “Nooooo!” She tried to shake off the policeman holding her, swinging her arms around and punching him in the face. Both policemen dived on her and began to drag her away to the local Police Station to calm her down.

  “Well done, Lottie dear. You were very brave,” said Uncle Bert. One of the reporters came closer and held up his camera. The three smiled proudly as they held the Eagle.

  “Ladies and Gentlemen,” said Lottie to the crowd around them. “Soon to be exhibited at the British Museum for all to see, I proudly present – The Lost Eagle of the Ninth Legion!”

  The crowd clapped and Reg pushed Lottie forward to take the applause. She gave a theatrical bow and walked back to the car, the Eagle safely in her arms.

  Glossary

  AdmiralThe leader of the Royal Navy.

  BattalionA large team of soldiers.

  ExpeditionA big journey for a special purpose, such as to carry out research.

  MediterraneanA large sea in Europe and the countries surrounding it.

  Red herringA clue that leads someone in the wrong direction.

  Roman numeralsThe system of writing down numbers in ancient Roman times.

  StandardA large pole with a flag or ornamental statue on the top, used in battle to show where the leader of the army was.

  Puzzle

  Can you trace a line through the hexagonal tiles, from the bottom to the top, to spell out the name of the rude treasure hunter that Lottie meets in this adventure?

  Did You Know?

  • The lions that surround Nelson’s Column were designed by Edward Landseer in the 1800s, but the lions he studied in London Zoo wouldn’t keep still, so the paws are modelled on a cat!

  • Roman numerals are still used today on clock faces, when writing about kings and queens (for Example, Henry VIII or Elizabeth II) and when writing the year that a TV programme is made.

  • The Romans gave us laws, calendars, roads, central heating and aqueducts that are still used today. Many words in the English language come from Latin.

  Conundrum

  Can you rearrange these letters to make a different word? A clue has been given for each one to help you!

  Reg carries one of these in case he needs to open a box or lift a paving slab!

  Lottie carries one of these to write her clues in.

  Uncle Bert carries one of these to mop his forehead when he gets hot.

  First published 2016 by Bloomsbury Education, an imprint of Bloomsbury Publishing Plc

  50 Bedford Square, London, WC1B 3DP

  www.bloomsbury.com

  Bloomsbury is a registered trademark of Bloomsbury Publishing Plc

  Copyright © 2016 Bloomsbury Education

  Text copyright © Dan Metcalf

  Illustrations © Rachelle Panagarry

  The moral rights of the author and illustrator have been asserted

  All rights reserved

  No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers

  A CIP catalogue for this book is available from the British Library

  ISBN 978 1 4729 2758 3

  ePub ISBN-13: 978 1 4729 2759 0

  To find out more about our authors and books visit www.bloomsbury.com. Here you will find extracts, author interviews, details of forthcoming events and the option to sign up for our newsletters.

 

 

 


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