by Tim Collins
She reckons we should go up the mountain to find out what’s really causing the rumbles.
I agreed, although I was only really agreeing that it was the SORT of thing we could do. I wasn’t committing myself to her plan.
I suggested we spend some more time trying to work out what the scroll says instead. But then Decima accused me of being frightened of the imaginary demon, which obviously I’m not.
So we’re meeting at first light tomorrow to go up the mountain and investigate.
UPDATE
Okay, I admit it. I AM a bit scared. I know it’s really, really, really unlikely there’s a demon up there. But what if there is? I’m going to see if Dad brought any weapons with him.
UPDATE
He didn’t bring any, but I found some useful stuff to take.
Put it all together and what do you get?
UPDATE
I practised my demon-busting moves in the atrium tonight. I jabbed forward with the hairpin and swung the bowl round over and over again for protection. I think I got a little carried away, because I kept imagining there was a real demon lashing out at me and shooting fire from its nostrils. I leapt back so quickly from this pretend fire that I knocked one of Mum’s pottery vases to the floor and smashed it.
My cheeks flushed. The vase was TOTALLY shattered and would be impossible to mend. AND I’d knocked it down from a high shelf, so I wouldn’t be able to blame it on the chickens.
I was still stressing about the vase when another massive rumble shook the house. I heard shrill screams and clattering in the street outside.
Mum came rushing in. ‘My vase!’ she screamed. ‘The stomping of the mountain demon has destroyed it.’
‘Er ... yes,’ I said. ‘That’s exactly what just happened. Demons, eh? What can you do?’
If I do run into this demon tomorrow I should probably thank it rather than fight it. It’s just saved me from a MASSIVE telling off.
July V
Decima giggled when she saw me this morning. That’s hardly an appropriate reaction to a true Roman hero.
‘What are you wearing?’ she asked.
‘Demon-proofing,’ I said. ‘Just in case.’
‘What are you going to do?’ she asked. ‘Attack it or cook it a delicious stew?’
We left town by the Salt Gate and headed towards the mountain. As the sun rose, I felt sweat trickling down my tunic. It was so hot with my pans on, but I thought about all the armour Roman soldiers have to wear. If they can do it, so could I.
My mouth felt as dry as the dust under my sandals and I was glad I had the water.
‘Can I have some?’ asked Decima.
‘Maybe being prepared isn’t such a bad idea after all,’ I said, handing her the leather pouch. ‘Who looks silly now?’
‘Still you,’ she said. ‘But thanks for the water.’
We passed through an olive grove and into a sloping vineyard.
‘Did you hear that?’ asked Decima.
‘What?’ I really couldn’t hear much above the clatter of my pans.
‘It might help if you kept still, Kitchen Implement Boy,’ she said.
I froze. There was a low growl coming from the row of vines to my left. I saw a black shape flitting among the green plants.
‘It’s the demon!’ I shouted. My hands were shaking so hard it was difficult to keep hold of my bowl shield.
‘Excellent,’ said Decima, striding ahead. ‘Let’s take a look at it.’
I tried to follow Decima. I really did. I told my body to move forwards, but instead I found myself throwing the shield and hairpin to the ground and running down the slope.
The growls of the demon were getting louder. I could hear the beast’s feet thundering behind me. There seemed to be a lot of feet. Was this some sort of huge spider demon?
I turned to look, but sweat poured down from my pan helmet into my eyes and I could only make out a vague two-headed shape.
I faced forwards again, but was too late to see a huge rock. I tripped over it and tumbled to the ground. Small, gritty stones broke the skin on my arms and bright pain jolted into my ankle.
I could hear the demon’s deep growl getting closer. This was it. I was at the mercy of a massive mountain monster.
July VI
I should explain. I wasn’t really attacked by a demon yesterday. It was just a couple of black dogs that live in the vineyard. And they didn’t really attack me. They just yapped a bit and licked my face.
I twisted my ankle when I fell, and Decima had to help me back to town. It took us ages to get down the mountain.
Mum came to my room last night looking for her hairpin, and gasped when she saw my cuts and bruises. She asked what had happened and I was about to tell the truth, but then I realized I’d have to admit to stealing the hairpin.
‘I was attacked by the demon,’ I said.
I know I shouldn’t have lied, but it was all I could think of. I hope the gods don’t punish me for it.
They haven’t done so far, though.
July VII
I wanted to stay in bed this morning, but Mum insisted I come out and tell her friends about my demon encounter. Pontius, Pullo and loads of other townspeople were rammed into the atrium waiting to hear from me.
I wanted to admit that I had made the whole thing up, but I think my public-speaking skills must have taken over ... I gave an exciting account of how the demon leapt on me and pinned me to the ground with its sharp talons. I explained it had two heads, rows of gleaming teeth and eyes that glowed with orange fire.
I described how I’d wrestled it away, kicked its furry bottom and sent it howling back up the mountain.
Some of Mum’s friends started wailing and throwing their hands up in the air, and I wondered if I’d made my speech a little TOO GOOD.
‘We mustn’t panic!’ shouted Pontius.
‘Let’s step up our animal sacrifices,’ said Pullo. ‘Tell everyone to bring animals to the temple for immediate slaughter.’
They rushed out. I really should have called them back in and admitted I had made it all up. I see that now.
‘I heard all that,’ shouted Dad from his study. ‘Dorkius, don’t tell me you’ve started believing all that demon nonsense, too.’
‘No,’ I said. ‘It’s all part of my plan to get them to agree to pay the extra tax.’
This wasn’t strictly true, but I’ll probably come up with a plan at some point, and I’ll pretend this was part of it.
July VIII
I couldn’t go anywhere today without people asking about the demon attack. I must have told the story FIFTY times. In the end, I was adding in bits about how I chopped off one of the demon’s heads only to see it grow back and sneer at me. It’s nice to be appreciated in this town for something, even if it is for making up far-fetched lies.
July IX
My speech about the demon has clearly had a BIG impact on Mum’s friends. This morning I heard Pullo talking to her about it.
‘The demon will attack soon,’ he was saying. ‘All the signs point to it.’
‘What signs?’ asked Mum.
‘Strange patterns of lightning have been observed,’ said Pullo. ‘Birds have been seen flying in unusual formations, and one of my cows gave birth to a piglet.’
‘Oh no!’ wailed Mum. ‘What terrible omens.’
‘Actually, it might have been one of the sows who gave birth to the piglet,’ said Pullo. ‘It was hard to see in the dark.’
July X
I came back to my room this afternoon to find a man painting a scary face on the wall.
‘What is that?’ I asked.
The painter stopped and looked at me. ‘A Medusa. That’s what your mum ordered.’
‘Why would she do that?’ I asked.
‘It’s in case that demon comes,’ he said. ‘The best way to protect against evil things is to draw something even more terrifying to frighten them off. Everyone knows that.’
‘Oh,’ I said
. I was going to ask if he could make the picture slightly less scary so I could sleep at night, but I thought it wouldn’t make me sound very heroic.
The painter finished the hideous image and took a step back.
‘There you go,’ he said. ‘That should keep the pesky thing away.’
‘Er ... thanks,’ I said. ‘I think.’
‘No. Thank you,’ he said. ‘I’ve been doing a roaring trade since you told everyone about the demon. Tell you what, I’ll add a screaming face with blood pouring from the eyes for free. My way of saying thanks.’
‘No, I’m sure this will do the trick,’ I said.
Now I’ve got to try and get to sleep with the monstrous face staring down at me. This isn’t going to be easy.
July XI
Decima came round this morning. She looked pretty annoyed, so I pretended to be asleep, but it didn’t make any difference.
‘Why did you tell everyone you saw a two-headed demon?’ she asked. She was carrying the scroll we’d found in the theatre and I was worried she was going to hit me with it.
‘So Mum wouldn’t be angry I stole her hairpin,’ I said.
‘You sent the ENTIRE town into a frenzy of panic just for that?’ she asked.
It did sound quite bad when she put it like that. ‘Yeah. Sorry.’
‘You can make it up to me by working out what this code means,’ she said, throwing the strange scroll we’d found at me. ‘I’m convinced Numerius leaving town and the weird rumbles in the ground are related. And this scroll can tell us why. But my head hurts from trying to work it out. It’s your turn now, Dorkius.’
July XII
I feel terrible about making all that stuff up and upsetting Decima, and I really want to make it up to her by working out what the message on the scroll means. But it STILL looks like complete nonsense.
Okay, let me think about this ... There’s a picture of Caesar above a load of random letters. Caesar must be the important clue. So what do I know about him?
I. He has a silly hairstyle, and he tries to distract everyone from it by wearing a laurel wreath.
II. His hobbies include fighting, public speaking and riding in AWESOME military parades.
III. He’s a noble Roman hero, except when Queen Cleopatra of Egypt is around. Then he becomes soppy and embarrassing.
Hmmmm. None of this is really helping. He certainly spouts a lot of gibberish when he’s with Cleopatra, but it’s usually stuff about love and romance rather than a random collection of letters.
What’s the connection between our (sometimes) great leader and the secret message? This is going to drive me MAD.
July XIII
BRILLIANT news. I’ve cracked the code!
I was chatting to Dad about Caesar, to see if he mentioned anything that might help me. Dad went on about all the battles Caesar fought. I was just beginning to drift off when he mentioned that Caesar invented something called a ‘cipher’. Caesar’s cipher let him send secret messages during battles.
It’s quite simple, really. All you have to do is shift everything three letters down the alphabet, so that ‘D’ means ‘A’, ‘E’ means ‘B’ and ‘F’ means ‘C’ etc. If you apply this to the words on the scroll, you get:
CONGRATULATIONS ON FINDING THIS SCROLL. BEFORE I FLED I PROMISED I WOULD NEVER TELL ANYONE WHAT I HAD DISCOVERED. BUT IF YOU ARE CLEVER ENOUGH TO BE READING THIS YOU DESERVE TO KNOW.
THROUGH MY STUDIES I HAVE DISCOVERED THAT THE RECENT TREMORS HAVE BEEN CAUSED BY AIR MOVING UNDER THE EARTH. EVENTUALLY THIS WILL CAUSE THE MOUNTAIN TO EXPLODE. DEADLY GAS WILL LEAK OUT, BURNING ROCKS WILL FALL AND LIQUID FIRE WILL FLOW.
YET WHEN I SHARED MY DISCOVERIES WITH PONTIUS AND PULLO THEY INSISTED IT WAS ALL CAUSED BY A DEMON AND THREATENED ME IF I SPREAD MY LIES.
BUT YOU ARE SMART ENOUGH TO HAVE FOLLOWED THE TRAIL AND CRACKED THE CODE SO I AM SURE YOU WILL HEED MY WARNING.
LEAVE POMPEII WHILE YOU STILL CAN.
July XIV
Decima was impressed when I showed her how I’d cracked the code. We were both so pleased, it took a while for the scroll’s grim message to sink in.
This town is going to get swamped with something even more toxic than fish sauce. Burning rocks are going to rain down and, knowing my luck, they’ll all land right on my head. It’s not really something to celebrate.
UPDATE
Oh gods! I just looked back at the first entry in my scroll and saw the words of Mum’s old soothsayer.
It looks as though he was right for once. We need to get out of Pompeii NOW!
July XV
I just went into Dad’s office and told him about the secret scroll, but he didn’t seem to care.
‘If it’s not two-headed demons with you, it’s exploding mountains,’ he said.
‘I’m sorry I made up that stuff about the demon,’ I said. ‘But this is REAL. Burning rocks are going to rain down on us. We need to leave.’
‘You might be right,’ said Dad. ‘But burning rocks will seem like a Saturnalia present compared to what Julius Caesar will do to me if I return without getting the tax changes agreed.’
July XVI
Decima’s dad has also refused to leave town. He said she’s been reading too many scrolls and it has sent her imagination into overdrive.
So instead Decima’s come up with a plan to get us out of here. I think it might work, but I’m not looking forward to it.
Pontius and Pullo have called a town meeting tomorrow to discuss the demon. Decima wants me to pretend that I’ve remembered something really important about my demon encounter. Then, when I’ve got the crowd’s attention, I can tell them the truth about what Numerius said in his scroll.
I know my public-speaking skills are good, but in the scroll, Numerius says Pontius and Pullo threatened him when he tried to warn them about the mountain and trapped air. What will they do to me if I make them angry?
Decima ran out before I could come up with a different plan that didn’t involve me infuriating the whole town and getting pelted with rotten vegetables.
July XVII
The crowd didn’t pelt me with rotten vegetables. It was much worse than that.
I climbed up the temple steps and looked out at them. There were LOADS more people than at the tax discussion.
‘I know you want to hear about my demon attack,’ I said. ‘But I’m not going to talk about it.’
A loud ‘BOO’ rang out. I spotted a man in a blue tunic at the back wandering away.
‘But what I have to tell you is even more exciting,’ I said.
‘What is it?’ asked a woman with red hair.
‘Have you been attacked by a manticore this time? Or a basilisk? They’re good.’
The man in the blue tunic turned back to join the crowd again. ‘Was it a gorgon?’ he asked. ‘My sister’s friend got bitten by one of those once. Nasty!’
‘Nothing like that,’ I said. ‘The truth is, there is no demon or any other type of beast in the mountain. It’s Vesuvius ITSELF that’s the problem. I know because I found a secret scroll left by Numerius.’
‘Not that nutter Numerius,’ shouted Pullo. ‘I might have known he’d leave some sort of message for weirdos to find.’
‘There’s air trapped underneath the mountain,’ I shouted. ‘And it’s going to EXPLODE, sending rocks and fire all over the place and all over us.’
I’d expected everyone to flee in panic at this point, but they just kept staring at me.
‘Abandon the town!’ I shouted. ‘It’s not safe.’
There was another awkward pause.
‘I think the demon must have taken over his mind,’ said Pontius. ‘That’s why he’s spouting gibberish.’
The crowd wailed. ‘Save him!’ shouted Mum. ‘Somebody save my poor Dorky Worky.’
Hearing Mum call me ‘Dorky Worky’ in front of everyone made me blush bright red.
‘Look! The heat of the demon is showing on his face,’ shouted Pullo. ‘We must act fast. Someone fet
ch some fish sauce. That’s great for curing things.’
Pontius rushed up the steps and twisted my hands behind my back. A stall owner followed him, clutching a jar of the rancid fish sauce.
‘Please stop!’ I begged.
The stall owner poured the sauce into my mouth. I tried to tell him I was feeling better, but he kept on going for AGES. I could feel the puke rising inside me. I tried to hold it in, but it was no use. I spewed everywhere.
‘I think the demon’s gone now,’ said Pontius.
‘Let’s not panic,’ shouted Pullo. ‘As long as we keep sacrificing animals, the gods will come to our aid. Tell everyone to bring more animals to the temple immediately.’
July XVIII
The whole town smells really nasty today. Obviously, the town always smells nasty, but today it was more like fart than fish sauce. I wondered if there’d been an outbreak of food poisoning.
Across the street from our house a woman was shouting, ‘Who has killed my poor fish?’
A man ran up to her with a handful of dead sparrows. ‘That’s nothing. These just fell on to my head from a tree. Know anyone who might want to buy them?’
I wonder if it was something to do with the smell. Is it possible to do a fart so stinky it actually kills things? My friend Cornelius once did one so terrible he got a whole row to himself in the amphitheatre. But I’m pretty sure even THAT didn’t kill anything. Whoever did it could make a fortune performing at beast shows. I’d definitely pay to see a lion being farted to death.