Battle With the Britons! Read online

  of

  f

  me

  ,

  yo

  u

  idi

  ot!

  “LEAVE ME ALONE!” cried Julius as

  he tried to escape through a muddy field, but the

  monster was fast and soon caught up with him. As

  Julius turned to face the monster, he noticed that it

  was wearing a pair of stripey pants. “HEY!” cried

  Julius. “Are you wearing my LEGS?”

  “No!” came a familiar

  voice. “You’re

  wearing MY LEGS!”

  “Oh, BROTHER!”

  cried Julius. “Have

  you come to set me

  FREE?”

  “DON’T LET THEM STEAL YOUR LEGS,

  JULIUS!” said Brutus.

  “I WON’T!” cried Julius. “I WON’T LET

  THEM STEAL MY LEGS!”

  “WAKE UP, YOU LAZY BOZOS!” roared

  Septimus. “WE’RE HERE!”

  Through the murk of the dusk, Julius could make

  out the unmistakable shapes of Roman buildings,

  standing square and tall along the bank.

  “Welcome to LONDINIUM!”

  said Septimus.

  WOW!

  !

  P.U.!

  This place

  STINKS!

  “Gosh!” he said, taking in the view. “This must be

  where everybody was hiding. Check out all those

  ships!”

  “Merchant ships,” said Cornelius. “The Romans

  need their home comforts. You can bet those boats

  are filled with wine and olive oil and all that stinky

  fish sauce they pour on everything.”

  As Julius rubbed his tired eyes, he looked out at a

  noisy, bustling port. His nostrils were hit by the very

  familiar stink of a city as the cart rumbled over a long

  wooden bridge that crossed a great snaking river.

  Really?

  I ain’t

  looking!

  “It looks like they’re taking lots of stuff away, too,”

  said Julius. “Look at all those poor sheep and cows

  being piled onto that ship. I don’t envy their ride.”

  “NOW you know why the Romans are here,”

  said Cornelius. “They need to feed and clothe that

  growing empire of theirs.”

  “Keep an eye out for those vicious BRITONS,

  though,” warned Julius, ducking down in the cart.

  “They’re not getting MY stripey legs!”

  “I think you’ll find they’re everywhere!” said

  Cornelius, smiling.

  I suppose they do....

  You mark my

  words: there’s

  trouble to be had

  on this island!

  “But it’s COLD!” protested Julius. “Why aren’t

  they trying to kill us for our furs?”

  “I think maybe Cornelius has been listening to too

  many scared Romans!” Rufus said with a laugh.

  “Yeah!” said Rufus. “And you know what? They

  look pretty ordinary to me!”

  Julius peeked out from in between the packs and

  stared at all the strange-looking people going about

  their business.

  “Rufus is probably right,” said Julius. “We don’t

  have a thing to worry about. This place looks as

  normal as anywhere! The tournament is going to be a

  BREEZE. Like Hadrian said, the locals will LOVE us.”

  After trundling through the city, the cart suddenly

  took a sharp left, revealing a wooden amphitheater

  up ahead. “OOH! I think we’ve found our vacation

  house!” squealed Julius.

  CHAPTER TEN

  HOME AWAY

  FROM HOME

  At least we’ll be nice

  and warm in a big

  fort like that.

  Septimus laughed as he pulled the cart up next

  to a ramshackle old barn. “You must be JOKING if

  you think we’re going to let a bunch of STINKING

  FLEABAGS LIKE YOU stay in our fort.”

  “It’s a lot smaller than I expected,” said Julius, looking

  the amphitheater up and down. “That gives me hope:

  their home crowd won’t be anywhere near as noisy

  as the Colosseum’s. We’ll win easily in there!”

  The small amphitheater was surrounded by fields,

  but just behind it sat an imposing stone fort.

  “WHOA!” gasped Cornelius. “That fort must house

  A THOUSAND soldiers. Look at the size of it!”

  Wait,

  what?

  Julius jumped off the cart, grumbling. “You can’t

  expect us to stay in there. It’s FREEZING!”

  Septimus rubbed his hands together to keep warm

  as a biting wind blew through the city. “You’d best

  He grabbed their knapsacks off the cart and

  chucked them onto the ground.

  “THIS is where YOU FOOLS are staying during

  your little ‘vacation’!” he said with a grin.

  Wonderful.

  cuddle up close together to keep warm tonight.”

  He chuckled. “I don’t want any of you dying of

  hypothermia — Hadrian would be VERY displeased!”

  Septimus climbed back onto the cart. “Our

  tournament starts in two days, so we’ll have a nice

  long training session tomorrow to get you warmed

  up. SEE YOU AT THE CRACK OF DAWN!” With

  that, he merrily trundled off toward the fort.

  The sky suddenly darkened, and with a crack of

  thunder, a great downpour fell on the city.

  Great.

  Just great.

  Milus stood up and brushed wet straw from his fur.

  “Well, this is just GREAT!” he growled. “When these

  sneaky Romans finally chuck my broken body into

  “Quick! Get inside the barn!” said Lucia.

  They crashed through the rotten door to find a

  foul, damp hovel, strewn with moldy straw and

  bales of stinking hay. Rain streamed in through holes

  in the roof.

  Oh! You

  remember

  who I AM,

  then?

  PLINY!

  “Thanks for leaving me behind AGAIN!” he

  screeched. “I teach you ALL my fighting techniques,

  I turn you into SUPERSTARS, and what thanks do

  I get? NONE!” He sat down and started nibbling

  on a biscuit.

  some cold, wet ditch somewhere, can you please make

  sure it says ‘I TOLD YOU SO!’ on my tombstone?”

  Milus hurled his knapsack to the floor, and as it

  landed, it let out a huge squeak. Everybody turned

  and looked at the pack.

  “I know that squeak,” whispered Cornelius.

  What?

  You expected

  me to live

  on air?

  MY

  BISCUITS!

  “So, what’s going on here, anyway?” asked Pliny.

  “I heard you all talking about going on vacay. Where

  are we? It’s not warm, so it can’t be Egypt.”

  “Britannia!” said Julius.

  Pliny nearly choked on his biscuit.

  “Have you been in Milus’s pack all this time?” said

  Julius.

  “So what if I have?” replied Pliny, spitting crumbs

  everywhere. “I wasn’t going to show my face and get

  roped into scrubbing ships’ decks. Do you think I’m

  STUPID or something?”

&n
bsp; “Then you’ve HAD it!” he cried. “This island is the

  LAST place you want to be!”

  “But Hadrian says we’re going to inspire the

  locals,” said Julius. “He set up a tournament for us

  and EVERYTHING! We’re the People’s Champions!”

  “The People’s Nincompoops, more like,” said

  Pliny. “The locals don’t need entertaining; they need

  OVERPOWERING!”

  “What do you mean?” gasped Julius.

  Hadrian doesn’t

  like wars!

  “But if you guys fail to impress these barbarians

  and they keep on being a bunch of troublemakers,

  the Senate will FORCE Hadrian to start a very

  expensive war against Britannia.”

  “The Britons are on the verge of REVOLT!” said

  Pliny. “I heard all about it in the Colosseum. I get ALL

  my gossip there. The Senate is totally scared about

  the WHOLE situation. Hadrian is obviously using

  your so-called popularity as a show of his strength

  to shut up these whining Britons AND the senators.”

  we’d

  bette

  r

  get

  start

  ed!

  SNAP!

  You’re going

  to need

  EXTRA

  training!

  You’ve got to

  up your game!

  Hey!

  Well,

  then ...

  “But we’re training tomorrow,” whimpered Julius.

  “Then our first fight is the day after. We don’t have

  much time!”

  OK, you

  deadbeats!

  Get down

  and give

  me fifty

  push-ups!

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  MUD, SWEAT,

  AND TEARS

  The next morning, big blobs of water dripped

  off Julius’s nose as icy rain spat down outside the

  wooden amphitheater. Septimus marched up and

  down, wrapped up warm and dry in his nice thick

  furs, as he inspected the line of animals.

  Julius refused to get on the ground. “This is SO

  unfair, Septimus. You can’t make us train in this

  weather!”

  “Yeah!” said Felix. “It’s all right for you, wrapped up

  all nice and warm.”

  “WHAT?” spluttered Julius. “Push-ups in this cold

  mud? You must be joking!”

  Septimus leaned close up to Julius’s face. “DO I

  LOOK LIKE I’M JOKING?”

  “N-n-now that you mention it, no, you

  d-d-don’t. . . .” stammered Julius.

  “Good,” declared Septimus. “YOU can give me a

  hundred!”

  So you’d like to

  warm up a bit,

  would you?

  Well, it

  would

  be nice.

  “OK,” said Septimus, “then let me introduce you

  to an old Roman army trick for warming up.” He

  wandered over to a patch of weeds and grabbed a big

  handful of nettles.

  “I’m not sure I like the look of this. . . .” whispered

  Julius nervously.

  Septimus held up the nettles. “When I was in the

  Tenth Legion, fighting barbarians in the FORESTS

  OF GERMANIA, we didn’t SNIVEL about the

  COLD and WET!”

  “What’s he going to do?” whispered a perplexed

  Felix. “Eat them?”

  “NO!” continued Septimus. “We thought on

  our feet. We created SOLUTIONS!” He suddenly

  whacked Felix’s legs with the nettles.

  Are

  you

  OUT

  of your

  MIND?

  Now that

  you mention

  it ...

  they sort

  of are!

  Ow!

  Felix hopped around, rubbing his legs and crying in

  pain. “That REALLY STUNG!” he wailed.

  “But aren’t your legs warm now?” said Septimus.

  Felix stopped

  leaping around

  and had a good

  look at his red,

  throbbing legs.

  Exc

  elle

  nt!

  Wh

  o’s

  NE

  XT

  ?

  Arr!

  HOOF IT!

  AIEE!

  What?

  T

  ha

  t’s

  fl

  ip

  pi

  n’

  M

  IL

  ES

  !

  “EXACTLY!” barked Septimus. “CHOP, CHOP!

  Get moving, you lazy donkey!”

  “We’re warm! We’re warm!” shrieked Cornelius as

  they all sprinted off across the field.

  “Well,” said Septimus, “seeing as you’re all running

  already, I want you to jog around the fort, up to the

  river, then back here again.”

  Come on!

  The faster

  we run ...

  the

  quicker

  we’ll get

  there!

  The animals ran off toward the fort behind the

  amphitheater, huffing and puffing as they went.

  “I hate running!” spluttered Felix. “I’ve got flat

  hooves.”

  “I’m still exhausted after our training with Pliny

  last night. I can barely feel my claws!” moaned Lucia.

  Julius suddenly sprinted past them all.

  Hey, shouldn’t we

  have turned left

  at the fort?

  This IS

  left!

  I think ...

  GRR.

  Are

  we

  sur

  e

  thi

  s

  is

  the

  righ

  t

  wa

  y?

  Ooh! Pretty

  meadow!

  It must be

  through

  these trees!

  AAIEE! BRITONS!

  Run for your lives!

  Watch out

  for the bogs!

  Gragh!

  Tr

  us

  t

  Ru

  fu

  s

  to

  fa

  ll

  in

  a

  pu

  dd

  le!

  H

  E

  A

  V

  E

  !

  Help!

  Ooh! Look!

  A hut!

  Let’

  s

  go

  in.

  Hello? Anyone home?

  C

  R

  EA

  K!

  Everyone ran up to the strange hut with its pointy

  straw roof and tiny door.

  “Do you think there’s anyone inside?” asked Julius.

  “I saw smoke coming out of the top of the roof, so

  there must be,” said Lucia.

  “But what if it’s those scary warriors from the

  woods?” asked Felix.

  “They were going in the complete opposite

  direction,” said Rufus.

  “Oh, yeah,” replied Felix, and he nudged the door

  open.

  T

  H

  U

  M

  P

  !

  Oof!

  “SEPTI
MUS!”

  “Quite correct, imbecile!” growled Septimus, rain

  dripping down his angry red face. “And you’re going

  to regret EVER running away!”

  Felix poked his head in, and let out an

  ENORMOUS SCREAM, causing everyone else to

  scream, too. They all ran away from the hut as fast as

  their legs could carry them.

  “COME BACK!” yelled Julius to Felix. “WHY ARE

  WE RUNNING AWAY?”

  “I SAW SOMETHING MOVE!” Felix screeched.

  Suddenly, he smacked right into a big wet lump

  standing in the middle of the field.

  Run away

  from ME,

  would ya?

  No one

  treats

  ME like

  an idiot!

  STO

  MP

  !

  ST

  OM

  P!

  “EVERYBODY ON THE FLOOR AND GIVE ME

  ONE HUNDRED PUSH-UPS!”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  BRITONS GOT TALENT

  The next morning, the animals got up at sunrise and

  dashed to the wooden arena, where Septimus was

  waiting for them.

  Um ... do we have

  to talk with funny

  Roman accents?

  As they sprang into action, Septimus marched up

  and down sternly.

  “Now you listen to me, you DEADBEATS!”

  Everyone looked up, but no one dared to stop their

  exercises.

  “Today is the first day of our glorious

  TOURNAMENT! Hadrian has chosen you idiots,

  FOOLISHLY, to my mind, to REPRESENT ROME

  against the BRITONS!”

  Lucia put up her claw. Septimus spun around and

  glared at the crocodile. “This had better be GOOD!”

  he said through his gritted teeth.

  Benefactors?

  Don’t you mean

  “evil conquerors”?

  Septimus picked Felix up by the scruff of his neck.