History Keepers: Circus Maximus

by Dibben, Damian

  ‘What would Nathan say?’ Lucius forced the glimmer of a smile as he gently touched his shiner. ‘Not popping now, are they?’

  Jake laughed, despite himself, knelt down and threw his arms around him.

  ‘Ow!’ Lucius cried. ‘Broken rib.’

  ‘Sorry, sorry.’ Jake let go and sat down beside him. ‘So great to see you . . . almost alive.’

  Although it was clearly agony, Lucius started laughing too. Then the vultures began crashing against the bars again, reminding them both of the fate that awaited them.

  ‘So, Yake,’ Lucius said finally. ‘Six hours I plan how to get out of here.’

  ‘Really? And . . .?’

  He shook his head. ‘There is no way out. Unless you can walk through walls.’

  ‘Oh, I see.’

  Then, with a shrug, Lucius produced something from inside his tunic. ‘I have this.’ He passed Jake a battered silver bracelet, one of the Hydra’s poisoning devices. ‘I stole from a guard, but it is almost empty.’

  ‘Well, that’s a start!’ said Jake, so enthusiastically that it took even him by surprise. It was a Djones family trait to be upbeat in the face of disaster. He examined the bracelet, a wrist band studded with a disc-like capsule that turned to release the gas. Very carefully, he put it to his ear and shook it. Lucius was right: there was just the tiniest amount of liquid inside.

  ‘What about vinegar?’ Jake asked. ‘Do you have that?’

  From the back of the device, Lucius pulled out a little vial and held it up. ‘But even if we make the birds sleep,’ he said gloomily, ‘we are still in the cage.’

  Jake glanced once again at the pile of human remains; but Lucius reached over and turned Jake’s head the other way.

  Jake leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes. They were as trapped as it was possible to be: locked in a cage, sealed in a room, encased within a fortress; completely unarmed, with three of the most savage creatures on earth watching over them. Jake knew that they didn’t stand a chance.

  20 THE CLAWS OF DEATH

  TOPAZ WOKE AND immediately sensed that something was wrong. Nathan and Charlie were still fast asleep. She peered over the side of her bunk and realized that Jake wasn’t there. She scanned the room, but there was no other sign of life.

  She let herself down to the floor. Mr Drake, who had also been snoozing, perched on the end of Charlie’s bunk, opened one eye and watched as she headed across the room to the door. She found the bolts undone. Mystified, she opened it, went out onto the dark landing and peered up the staircase. A warm wind blew down into her face. She was about to close it again when she suddenly heard a tapping. Someone was trying to get in from the Basilica Aemilia.

  Jake, Topaz thought. He must have locked himself out. She quickly ascended the steps, her bare feet silent on the stone. From the walls, Julius Caesar – depicted in mosaic, speaking in the Senate House – seemed to observe her as she flitted past. She heard a loud thump from above. Then another.

  ‘Jake?’ she called. Silence greeted her. ‘Is that you?’ she said more tentatively, her hand reaching out for the handle. Still no one replied. Topaz looked back down the stairs; the only sound was the faint whistling of the wind.

  Suddenly there was an almighty cry, a great splintering of wood; then the door flew open and two guards burst in. Topaz gasped, turned and ran, but a huge gauntleted hand grabbed her gown. She ripped it free, but overbalanced and tumbled down the steps, banging into the mosaic wall. Again, Julius Caesar watched as she quickly picked herself up. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw several more guards, all wearing grey breastplates and beaked helmets, rushing in, weapons clanking at their side. She flew down the steps and burst through the door into the bureau.

  ‘Hydra – here!’ she cried at the top of her voice.

  Nathan and Charlie had already been woken by the noise, and now leaped to their feet. As the enemy thundered down onto the landing, Topaz slammed the door – but a metal gauntlet had managed to slide through the gap and stopped it from closing. In moments, Nathan and Charlie were at Topaz’s side, pushing against the door with such force that the gauntlet began to buckle. Finally they heard a cry of pain and the arm withdrew. Nathan and Charlie quickly shot the bolts home.

  Topaz took a slug from the bottle of vinegar and passed it to the others. Now the guards were pounding against the door. The two iron bolts were no match for them. Within moments, the housing of the top one was coming loose.

  ‘We leave by the aqueduct,’ Nathan shouted as he ran over to Jake’s bunk. Only now did he realize that he was missing. ‘Where’s Jake?’

  ‘He was gone when I woke up,’ said Topaz.

  ‘Gone?’ Nathan barked. ‘Where?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ she snapped back, then nodded at the door. ‘Shall we talk about this later?’

  By now Mr Drake had flown up and was circling the room in panic. Nathan pushed the bunk to one side, clearing the area around the grille that led down into the Aqua Virgo. He took the key from its hiding place behind a loose brick in the wall, unlocked the grille and pulled it out of its casing. It was heavy and the veins on his neck bulged with the strain. ‘You first!’ he called to Topaz.

  But she was running around grabbing things, and already had the Meslith machine tucked under her arm. She was just collecting the bundle of weapons from the table when she noticed Jake’s note. She unfolded the paper and read the one-line inscription: I’ve gone to sort it out.

  ‘Topaz! Let’s go,’ Nathan shouted.

  She scrunched up the note in her hand, went over to the hole and chucked the swords through. Then Charlie helped her down until she was low enough to jump, splashing into two feet of fast-flowing and surprisingly cold water. A round borehole, about as high as she was tall, disappeared off in either direction – pale, clay-like rock smoothed by decades of flowing water. She knelt down and retrieved the weapons.

  Above her, the pounding on the door grew louder. The top bolt gave way and sprang across the room past Mr Drake.

  ‘Here, quickly!’ Charlie called the parrot as he too began to lower himself into the water. Mr Drake swooped down, alighted on his master’s shoulder and clung on tight.

  Now the second bolt sheared off, the door crashed open and the guards burst in.

  Nathan followed Charlie and pulled the hatch down behind him. He produced the key and was about to turn it in the padlock when a blade shot down through the grille, only just missing his eye. The key fell, splashing into the torrent. Meanwhile Topaz had grabbed a dagger and thrust it through the grille towards the soldier – who now released a cloud of poisonous gas. It made them choke, even though they held their breaths, but had no further ill effects.

  Charlie had noted exactly where the key had fallen; he plunged his hand into the water until he had located it, then thrust it into the lock. He had managed to turn it only halfway when four blades appeared above his head. The three agents jumped back to avoid them. The guards pulled at the grille – but the pressure on the padlock forced the key round and it dropped out into the water again. The gate was locked.

  ‘Let’s go!’ Nathan shouted.

  ‘There’ll be an exit at the baths of Agrippa . . .’ Charlie waded through the water, his voice echoing around the tunnel. ‘From there it’s only a short walk to the Circus Maximus.’

  * * *

  Jake had been sitting in the corner of the cell for half an hour, his hands covering his ears to block out the increasingly high-pitched screeches, when he suddenly noticed the glinting buckle at his waist. He realized that it didn’t belong to his own plain leather belt; it was Nathan’s, with its distinctive lion’s head. He had been in such a state of panic when he left the bureau that he had mistakenly picked up Nathan’s weapon and belt. Of course, Agata’s men had taken the sword and scabbard, but mercifully had left the belt.

  ‘Nathan, you might have saved us!’ he gasped, leaping to his feet, unfastening the belt and examining the golden lion’s head. He rem
embered Dr Chatterju demonstrating the device in the armoury at Point Zero. It contained a miniature winching mechanism that could lift a person (well, Dr Chatterju’s slight nephew Amrit, at any rate) into the air.

  ‘What’s going on?’ Lucius asked, looking up.

  Jake was too excited to reply. He turned, strode over to the bars and, ignoring the occupants of the other cage, scanned the ceiling above it – in particular the skylight through which he had peered the night before.

  ‘Just as I thought . . .’ He clenched his fists in delight. ‘The skylight’s not locked. That’s our exit!’

  Lucius craned his neck round to see what Jake was talking about, but was none the wiser.

  ‘So, how do we get to it, you ask . . .’ Jake continued breathlessly, pacing backwards and forward, muttering. Lucius stared at him, baffled, until Jake suddenly clapped his hands together. ‘It might just work.’

  ‘What might work, Yake?’

  ‘One of us stays in here, armed with what’s left of the Hydra’s gas. Let’s just pray we have enough. The other opens this gate, the birds fly in, we release the gas, they collapse’ – Jake, who loved a bit of acting when the occasion demanded it, threw in a mime of anesthetized vultures sinking to the ground – ‘we occupy their chamber, closing the gate behind us, and then use Dr Chatterju’s magic belt to escape!’

  Jake might as well have been talking in ancient Egyptian for all Lucius could make of it. It took many minutes of patient explanation, illustrated with diagrams drawn in the sand on the floor, before he began to grasp the plan; though even then, Chatterju’s miniature pulley was beyond him, and Jake suggested that he would just have to trust him on that.

  Partly because of Lucius’s injuries, but mainly because Jake wanted to prove his bravery, he volunteered for the more dangerous job of vulture-bait.

  They shared out the tiny flask of vinegar and took their positions – Lucius by the gate, Jake in the centre of the cell, primed with the silver bracelet. Sensing that something was afoot, the vultures started flinging themselves against the bars again.

  ‘Remember’ – Jake’s firm voice masked his inner terror – ‘hold your breath for at least a minute so you don’t inhale the gas – I’m not sure if there was really enough vinegar to be effective.’

  ‘And what if there is not enough gas to make them sleep?’ Lucius asked.

  In truth Jake was unsure about this as well: they were unarmed, and if the plan failed they would be eaten alive, the flesh ripped from their bones. But the alternative was far, far worse. ‘Lucius, listen to me,’ Jake said in a low voice. ‘In an hour’s time, in the Circus Maximus, a catastrophe is going to take place – a disaster to end all disasters. If we don’t get out of here and find a way to stop it’ – he took a deep breath – ‘the world as we know it will end today.’ He snapped his fingers. ‘Boom! All gone!’ It sounded dramatic, like something Nathan would say, but it was also true. Only Jake knew the details of Agata’s master plan. He had to escape and get to the Circus Maximus – or die trying. He held up the silver bracelet and took a deep breath. ‘There’ll be enough, I am sure of it. Now open the gate.’

  He gritted his teeth as Lucius slid the grille across to allow the birds through.

  For a moment they were confused; the cawing died down and they backed away from the opening suspiciously.

  ‘Not hungry any more?’ Jake jeered.

  Lucius watched the vultures as they huddled together, as if discussing their course of action. Finally their hunger took over; they turned in unison and took off, soaring through the gap.

  ‘Now!’ Jake shouted to Lucius, taking a great gulp of air before turning the capsule on the silver bracelet to release its contents. The birds flew, missile-like, towards him, their huge wings making the cage dark.

  The faint red vapour billowed up from Jake’s wrist, and he fought to hold his breath as the first vulture swooped down, claws finding his neck, beak darting towards his eyes. He shielded his head with his hands as the second bird thumped down, then the third. For a moment there was a whirl of screeching and slashing, feathers and claws. Then, quite suddenly, it stopped. One vulture let out a guttural cry, and thumped to the floor. A second quickly followed. The last, the largest of the three, continued to swoop down towards Jake, staring at him defiantly, until it too was overcome and dropped onto the sand.

  As Jake leaped over its sprawling body, the vulture twisted and momentarily raised its head, but collapsed onto the floor again. Jake tore through the opening into the birds’ compartment. Lucius followed and they slid the gate across behind them.

  It stuck halfway.

  Lucius pushed with all his might, until the veins in his neck bulged, but the metal of the grille was now distorted and wouldn’t slide across. He and Jake rattled it frantically, but it wouldn’t budge. The opening was now maybe a foot wide. Perhaps it was enough to keep the vultures inside.

  ‘We go back in,’ Lucius suggested. ‘Break their necks.’

  Jake shook his head. The effects of the gas were already wearing off: he could see a wing twitching, then a leg. ‘Let’s go!’ He stopped at a point directly below the skylight, then looked at Lucius and pointed towards a spade leaned inside the feeding bucket just outside the cage. ‘Get that. We may need it.’

  Lucius did as he was told, slipping his hands through the bars and retrieving the shovel. The coating of dried blood and entrails made it stick to the pail and he had to pull it loose.

  Jake surveyed the barred skylight above him: it had a timber frame. In order to provide the strongest hold he would need to fire the dart deep into this. It was a small target and he only had one chance to get it right. Urgency made him bold. ‘Lucius, stand in front of me,’ he instructed.

  Jake positioned himself behind his companion, using Lucius’s shoulder to steady his hands. He held up the buckle, aimed the lion’s mouth at the wooden frame, carefully pushed down on the green eye – and fired.

  There was a sharp whistle, followed by a flash. Before Jake had registered it, the silver dart struck the wood with a solidly satisfying twang. Jake pulled the wire tight. Dr Chatterju had boasted: It could take the weight of Henry the Eighth – even in his heavy period. Jake would find out very soon if this was even half true. Lucius was certainly no lightweight, and the two of them together would test the claim.

  ‘You put the belt on,’ said Jake, ‘and I’ll hold on to you.’

  Lucius obliged, fastening it tightly around his waist. Meanwhile Jake took hold of the spade.

  Suddenly they heard a clanging of metal behind them. The largest vulture had woken up and was now flying towards the bars. Still groggy, it misjudged the narrow opening and crashed down to the floor. Furious, it let out an ear-splitting screech before launching itself into the air again. Crash! Once more it struck the sides of the gap, but this time one wing got stuck; it struggled helplessly, then freed itself, clattering down again, the wing flapping uselessly. Unable to fly, it spat its fury. It was enough to wake its two partners in crime. Their wings stirred, their necks convulsed and their murderous eyes shot open.

  ‘I think that’s our cue,’ said Jake, holding onto Lucius while tightening his grip on the spade. ‘Press the blue eye. Now!’

  Lucius pushed the sapphire into the lion’s eye socket.

  Nothing happened.

  The other two vultures were getting to their feet now. One took off and flew around its new compartment, clumsily at first but gradually picking up speed. Jake realized it would be a matter of moments before it angled its way through the gap.

  ‘Again!’ Jake shouted. ‘Push it again!’

  Lucius pressed the button firmly. Now the line tightened, cracking like a whip, and they were quickly pulled off their feet, slowing down as their weight began to tell. Then, with a stiff click, the line stopped completely. They were just over halfway to the skylight, hanging by a straining metal thread.

  ‘Use your hands,’ Jake hissed.

  Lucius reached up, a
nd as he took hold of the line, the pressure on the buckle eased and the machine continued to ratchet them up again. They climbed inch by inch towards the skylight, Jake’s knuckles whitening as he held on, Lucius’s hands straining on the cord. Above them the wooden frame creaked as the silver dart pulled down on it.

  They were almost within touching distance when the circling vulture managed to get the angle right and swoop through the opening. Jake flinched as it flew up towards him. He tried to hit it with the spade, but he could only use one hand, and it was too crafty. There was a rush of air as it beat its wings, before lunging towards his neck. He felt a sharp pain, and blood started trickling down his back. Above him the metal dart shuddered. Lucius continued to pull on the wire, his hands now raw and bloody where the line had cut into them. The vulture flapped its gargantuan wings once more, this time coming in for the kill.

  Jake’s eyes made contact with the bird’s as he swung back his weapon. The rough blade cracked into the vulture’s head. For a second it seemed to freeze in midair, then it choked, its neck coiling, and spiralled lopsidedly to the ground, lurching drunkenly along the floor before shaking itself back to life.

  The boys had inched upwards only a fraction before it took off again. Then the next monster, the leanest and swiftest of the three, flew in and joined its accomplice; both circled around them now.

  As Lucius reached his bloodied hand up towards the bars of the skylight, the two birds launched their attack from either side. It was a terrible assault, like treading water in a sea of daggers and razor blades. And although Jake kept his head down and eyes closed, he could feel the thump of their muscular wings and the sharp piercing of their talons.

  ‘Yake! I can’t hold,’ Lucius wailed desperately. Jake opened his eye just enough to see Lucius’s bloody fingers still straining on the cord as he ignored the pecks of the vultures. Above them, the silver dart was creaking and straining alarmingly.

  Then Jake had a sudden thought: the silver bracelet. He still had it round his wrist. Perhaps there was a drop left inside. Even if it stopped the onslaught for a second, it would be worth it! ‘Lucius, hold your breath,’ he yelled as he twisted the cap. Nothing happened – there was not even the faintest whiff of gas. As he felt a beak tearing at his back, he closed his eyes. He thought again of his mum and dad – of Philip.