‘SHIPWRECK!’ yelled the crowd.
Now Perilus was catching them up, but it was slow work and only two laps left.
Come on, Perilus! There must be something you can do!
Oh! A little idea just came into my maximus intelligentissimus brain. Hmmm. Why not? I thought, so I took to my wings and I was just flapping along, minding my own business, when all of a sudden – OOPS! I almost flew straight into a horse’s right ear.
The horse, which belonged to the Blue Team, shook his head at me, stuck out his tongue and spat! He did! How disgusting! He spat at me! And unfortunately he was so busy doing that he didn’t look where he was going and crashed into his companion horse and for a moment they all came to a dead stop. Meanwhile, the White Team went charging ahead with Perilus in hot pursuit. Two corners to go! Come on, Perilus!
As they headed into the first corner, Perilus tried to squeeze round the outside, but the White chariot held its ground and sped away from him. He yelled at his pounding pair of thundering, sweating beasts.
‘Come on, you two! I’ve ridden goats that are faster than you!’
‘Huh!’ went the two horses, looking at each other. ‘We’ll show you, you young whippersnapper!’ And they plunged ahead at full steam and full snort, not to mention full snot, judging by what was falling out of their nostrils as they hammered the ground with their flashing hooves.
The last corner and now Perilus took the tight inside line, the most dangerous line to take because it was where his chariot was most likely to keel over or crash into the other chariot. There was a dreadful SKREEEEEK! as the chariots came together and almost locked wheels. I closed my eyes. I couldn’t bear it. There was a roar from the crowd. I opened them again. Perilus was through! He was heading for the winning post! He’d done it!
HE’D DONE IT! HE’D DONE IT! HE’D DONE IT!
Did I say he’d done it? I think I did. He had won. Actually, factually won! QE Bloomin’ D! There was wild cheering all around. Everyone was chanting: ‘SCORCHA! SCORCHA! SCORCHA!’
Perilus was carried shoulder high by the Green Team to the winner’s platform. He looked a bit embarrassed and wouldn’t take his helmet off because he knew everyone would then see he wasn’t Scorcha. An awkward moment, eh? Definitely.
‘Come on, lad,’ said the race organizer. ‘Take your helmet off.’
‘I can’t,’ Perilus muttered. ‘I’ve got nits.’
The organizer burst out laughing. ‘The boy’s got nits!’ he yelled and the whole crowd cheered as if nits were the best thing ever. (Which they’re not, but they are quite nice to nibble. What I might call a tasty titbit.) Perilus had won the race and by doing so he had also won Scorcha his place in the Green Team. Even Krysis, if not actually cheering, was certainly looking a bit more cheerful.
Meanwhile, just across the road from the Circus Maximus, in a dark and smelly jail, there was Scorcha himself, looking very puzzled. He had heard all the cheers from the Circus. He had heard his own name being chanted. Scorcha had won! But Scorcha was in jail, wasn’t he? No wonder he was confused. Poor Scorcha. Go on, give him a biscuit! Kraaarrk!
13. An Unexpected Ending
Well, there we are. When Perilus got home, he was beaming from ear to ear. Unfortunately, neither Flavia nor Krysis was at all pleased.
‘You went chariot racing!’ snapped Krysis. ‘You behaved just like a common slave!’
‘You went chariot racing,’ moaned Flavia. ‘You could have been shipwrecked, killed. How could you? It was so thoughtless of you. I was out of my mind with worry.’
Perilus looked at me and pulled a face. I think he was wondering what he could say, so I said it for him.
‘In fact, Perilus has been extraordinarily brave. He only went to the Circus to assist young Scorcha who, as you know, is languishin’ in jail. It was Scorcha’s opportunity to earn his place in the Green Team and now Perilus has done that for him. I think Perilus deserves some respect for that at the very least. He went to look after his friend. That’s what friends do. It’s so much better than stabbin’ them in the back like what happened to poor Caesar.’
Krysis and Flavia looked at me and then at their son.
‘I suppose,’ began Krysis, ‘that if you look at it like that then there is something to be said for your behaviour, Perilus, but please do not disappear like that again.’
‘No, Pater. I shan’t.’
So all was well, wasn’t it? Well, no, it wasn’t actually because Krysis waved a hand at Perilus and Hysteria and told them both to go away because he needed to talk to Flavia. Not in front of the children, eh? You know what that means, don’t you? Maybe not, so I shall explain. Once again, Krysis had that worried look, as if he knew there was a large and ravenous bear waiting round the corner to gobble him up, but he didn’t know which corner or when it would pounce. Something awkward was going on. Krysis had become very secretive of late. He’d been wandering round for days with his head in his hands.
(No, no, NO! NOT LITERALLY! IT’S AN EXPRESSION. I KEEP TELLING YOU!)
Anyhow, you may remember – and I do so hope you do – that I had seen Krysis not at work at the Mint, but hiding out in taverns, drowning his sorrows, whatever they were. Something had been bothering him for a while so I decided I would go and hide in the bush growing in the middle of the atrium pool and try to find out what it was.
Krysis brought his wife over to a bench beside the pool and made her sit down. He sat next to her.
‘Flavia,’ he began, very seriously. ‘We have a problem, a big problem.’
‘Is it Perilus?’ she asked, as well she might because I could see Perilus balancing on the ridge of the villa roof, high above their heads, at that very moment, the idiot!
‘No, it’s not Perilus,’ sighed Krysis.
‘Is it Hysteria?’ asked Flavia, listening to the little choking sobs coming from Hysteria’s room where she was still moaning over Scorcha’s imprisonment.
‘No, it’s not Hysteria,’ Krysis answered.
‘Um, is it Flippus Floppus perhaps?’
‘No, it’s not Flippus Floppus.’
‘Is it Fussia?’
No,’ growled Krysis, becoming irritated. ‘It’s not Fussia.’
‘Is it, er, Maddasbananus over the road?’
‘No.’
‘Is it Trendia?’
Krysis suddenly put a hand over Flavia’s mouth. ‘Look, if you list everyone we know in the street, this will take hours. Just listen to me. This is serious, Flavia. We have a problem at the Imperial Mint.’
One of Flavia’s eyebrows shot up. (I do so wish I could do that! My toes were curling again.) ‘Oh! But surely you don’t mean “we”, darling? You mean “you” have a problem. I don’t work at the Mint, Krysis darling.’
‘All right. I have a problem at work. We’re losing money.’
‘But, darling, I thought you made money. How can you lose money if you make money? It doesn’t make sense.’
‘No, you’re right,’ said Krysis, who was now looking not only worried, but irritated and confused. ‘It doesn’t. That’s what the problem is. We are supposed to make money. But we’re losing it. I’ve spoken with my deputy, Fibbus Biggus, and we have realized that there’s only one explanation. The money is disappearing.’
Flavia’s hand shot to her mouth. ‘No!’
‘Yes.’
‘NO!’
‘Yes!’ repeated Krysis.
‘NO! NO!’
‘Flavia, if you say that once more, I shall push you in the pond.’
I decided it was time to put in an appearance before Flavia was drowned. ‘Ahem, ahem,’ I croaked, poking out my handsome head. ‘I was just takin’ a little nap in this bit of shrubbery here when I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation. I think I have the solution.’
Krysis didn’t seem at all impressed by the way I had barged in on them, but Flavia was more forgiving.
‘Really, Croakbag? You know the answer?’
‘I think
I do. I do understand that outwardly I manifest the appearance of bein’ little more than a large black bird. What you cannot see is that beneath the tufty feathers all over my skull lies an extraordinary brain of immense ingenuity and cogitative power.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ Krysis grumbled.
I sighed. What was the point in trying to impress the unimpressible? So I got to the point. ‘The reason money is disappearin’ from the Mint is because, no doubt, someone is takin’ it. There is a thief in your midst.’
Flavia’s eyes grew wide and Krysis stared into his lap.
‘That is what I was afraid of,’ he muttered. ‘It’s the only answer.’
‘It’s the only answer,’ I nodded.
Krysis wiped a hand round his chin. ‘Once the Emperor hears of this, there’ll be big trouble. I could lose my job, the villa, everything.’
Flavia grasped Krysis’s hands in hers. ‘No. That mustn’t happen. We will find out who the thief is and bring him to justice.’
‘Or her,’ I pointed out.
‘We’ll get him thrown in jail!’ insisted Flavia.
‘Or her,’ I added.
So there we are. BIT OF A PROBLEM. Scorcha has somehow managed to join the Green Team, even though he’s still in jail, and there’s a thief at work at the Imperial Mint. Perilus is now doing handstands on the roof ridge and Hysteria is taking a bath in her own tears. What on earth is going to happen next? I have no idea, but isn’t it exciting? Go on, give us a biscuit! Kraaarrk!
Well, what IS going to happen next indeed?
WATCH OUT FOR
THE NEXT INSTALMENT OF
ROMANS ON THE RAMPAGE
COMING IN 2016
Of all the books you have written, which one is your favourite?
I loved writing both KRAZY KOW SAVES THE WORLD – WELL, ALMOST and STUFF, my first book for teenagers. Both these made me laugh out loud while I was writing and I was pleased with the overall result in each case. I also love writing the stories about Nicholas and his daft family – MY DAD, MY MUM, MY BROTHER and so on.
If you couldn’t be a writer what would you be?
Well, I’d be pretty fed up for a start, because writing was the one thing I knew I wanted to do from the age of nine onward. But if I DID have to do something else, I would love to be either an accomplished pianist or an artist of some sort. Music and art have played a big part in my whole life and I would love to be involved in them in some way.
What’s the best thing about writing stories?
Oh dear – so many things to say here! Getting paid for making things up is pretty high on the list! It’s also something you do on your own, inside your own head – nobody can interfere with that. The only boss you have is yourself. And you are creating something that nobody else has made before you. I also love making my readers laugh and want to read more and more.
Did you ever have a nightmare teacher?
(And who was your best ever?)
My nightmare at primary school was Mrs Chappell, long since dead. I knew her secret – she was not actually human. She was a Tyrannosaurus rex in disguise. She taught me for two years when I was in Y5 and Y6, and we didn’t like each other at all. My best ever was when I was in Y3 and Y4. Her name was Miss Cox, and she was the one who first encouraged me to write stories. She was brilliant. Sadly, she is long dead too.
When you were a kid you used to play kiss-chase. Did you always do the chasing or did anyone ever chase you?!
I usually did the chasing, but when I got chased, I didn’t bother to run very fast! Maybe I shouldn’t admit to that! We didn’t play kiss-chase at school – it was usually played during holidays. If we had tried playing it at school we would have been in serious trouble. Mind you, I seemed to spend most of my time in trouble of one sort or another, so maybe it wouldn’t have mattered that much.
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First published 2015
Text copyright © Jeremy Strong, 2015
Illustrations copyright © Rowan Clifford, 2015
Cover Illustration by Nick Sharratt
The moral right of the author and illustrator has been asserted
ISBN: 978-0-141-35794-2
Romans on the Rampage Page 6