Gladiator Clash (Time Hunters, Book 1) (5 page)

“N-no!” Isis said, covering her nose with her tunic.

Anubis started to heave with unkind laughter. “You'll be torn from limb to limb in the arena!”

Isis stood tall, fists balled and with her chin stuck out in grim determination. “My opponents had better train hard before they square up to
this
princess.”

“Ha! The young princess is deluded as usual! Two children against the best fighter in history? You don't stand a chance.”

Tom's teeth were chattering with fear as he thought about having to fight in the arena. “Can I just ask?” he said in a small voice, looking up at Anubis. “Why are you being so horrible to us? Why can't you find your own amulets? You're a god, after all.”

Anubis fixed Tom with his glowing red eyes. “She hasn't told you, has she?”

Isis shook her head and blushed bright red.

“Told me what?” Tom asked.

He looked over at Isis but her large brown eyes were fixed firmly on her sandal-clad feet.

“Princess Isis tried to steal an amulet from me,” Anubis barked. “If I had my way, I wouldn't let her into the Afterlife at all. But even gods have rules. If she has the payment, I must let her through.”

“So why don't you?” Tom asked. “You know where the amulets are. Just let her through now. Surely trapping her in the statue was punishment enough?”

Anubis scowled, showing his razor-sharp fangs. “What would be the fun in that, boy? Who knows? If she survives the challenges, she may even learn her lesson. If you
both
survive, that is!” He started to laugh nastily.

The ground trembled again. Tom marvelled that the other prisoners didn't even look round to see where the noise was coming from.

“Remember, Isis!” Anubis growled. “No amulets, no Afterlife!”

“I know! I know!” Isis said through gritted teeth.

“Now, I do hope you both enjoy Ancient Rome,” Anubis boomed. “Because if you don't find the first amulet, you'll be stuck here forever!”

“Imagine being torn limb from limb,” Tom said above the snoring of the other prisoners. He shivered at the thought. “Ouch.”

Isis yawned. “Go to sleep, Tom! Rufus will be in here soon enough.”

Tom propped himself up on his elbow. “Sleep? You're joking, right? I can't get Anubis's words out of my head.” He sat up, hugging his knees to his body. “Do you really think they do that sort of thing?” he asked. “Surely they spare you if you surrender? Not that
I
would surrender, of course.”

In the gloomy light of the breaking dawn, Isis stuck out her chin. “Well, nobody's tearing my limbs off. I waited five thousand years to get a body again. I'm not going to let some gladiator ruin it.”

Tom straightened himself out, feeling more determined. “If I die in that arena and Mum finds out, she'll kill me!” he said. “You and I will just have to work as a team.”

“A team?” Isis squeaked. “Princesses don't really do teams. By rights, you should just throw down your life for me.”

Tom tutted and shook his head. “Then how will you get your amulets? You might not like to admit it, but you do need my help. Plus, this
is
all your fault in the first place!”

“Oh, yes, of course, we're in this together,” Isis said, quickly changing tack. “A team we shall be! Nobody beats Isis Amun-Ra and her trusty friend, Tom!”

Suddenly, there was a crash as Rufus flung open the barred door.

“Get up, you lazy lot!” he shouted, brandishing his whip. “Training time!”

Everyone in the cell started to stir and stretch.

Isis held her nose. “Ugh! I'd forgotten that prisoners smell so bad.”

Tom wrinkled his nose at her. “You don't smell of flowers either, Your Royal Ponginess.”

When they had all gathered round, Rufus rubbed his shiny, bald head. He seemed excited.

“More news about the show!” Rufus said, grinning like a shark. “Hilarus will fight
catervarii
, which means he'll fight on his own against a group of gladiators. We'll be selecting five of you lucky lot to take on the famous Hilarus in person!”

All around, Tom heard groans coming from the men.

“It's not fair!” one man cried. “Hilarus is too good.”

“How are we supposed to survive that?” another jeered.

“You're not!” Rufus answered cheerfully. “Anyone matched against the great hero can expect to die. That's what the crowds have come to see.”

Tom caught Isis's eye and winked.

“This is our big chance,” he whispered. “You and me. We'll get picked to fight against Hilarus and get that amulet, or danger's not my middle name.”

“
Is
danger your middle name?” Isis asked, toying with her chains.

Tom shook his head. “No, it's Nigel.”

Outside, Rufus stood on top of a wooden trunk full of weapons and clapped his hands together.

“Listen up! I'm going to hold trials to pick the five best fighters to face Hilarus,” he announced. “So pick your best category – you can only try out for one.”

Once again, a ripple of complaint moved around the prisoners.

Tom eyed a tall, skinny young man, who was standing close by, whispering to an older man. The older man had the biggest muscles Tom had ever seen.

“It's too dangerous,” the young man said to the older man. “I really don't want to get picked. What should I do?”

The older man leaned forward and whispered, “Pretend to be useless. The more rubbish you are with a sword, the less likely it is you'll get picked.”

Tom nudged Isis and pulled her to one side. “We've got to do our best and really stand out,” he said. “It might not be so difficult if the others are trying to lose.”

As the prisoners were led out to the training ground after breakfast, Tom and Isis talked about what to try out for. It was obvious that Isis should try out as a
sagittarius
, or archer. But Tom wasn't great at any of the categories. He couldn't ride a horse, so it was no use trying out to be a mounted fighter. The scissors were just too heavy for him, and he'd kept getting tangled up in the net.

“I guess I'll try out as a
dimachaerus
,” Tom said, not feeling very hopeful.

But he needn't have worried. When the trials began, the other prisoners pretended to have forgotten everything they had learned. Tom watched in disbelief as most of the men spent the morning tripping over their own swords or just simply falling over. The first three places went to the fighters who were the least bad in their groups. Tom and Isis were still waiting to compete. As the minutes ticked by Tom felt more and more nervous. What would happen if they didn't get chosen? How else would they get close to Hilarus?

At last it was time for the mounted archers to try out. Isis, who was already a dab hand with a bow and an excellent horseman, easily reached the final three of her group.

Rufus strutted back and forth in front of Isis and the two grim-faced men who were left. “I'm going to set a tricky test to decide between you three,” he said. “How about a little target practice?”

He tied an apple to the top of a pole and then turned to Isis and the two remaining men.

“The best shot on horseback from the opposite end of the courtyard wins their place in the fight against Hilarus,” he said.

The first man galloped up to the firing point. He aimed his arrow, stretched the string of his bow back and
ping
! The arrow sailed up through the air, down towards the apple… and missed by a whisker!

Tom let out the breathe he didn't realise he'd been holding in. Isis looked over at him and raised an eyebrow.

The next man to try out wore a bandage around his head.

“Your turn!” Rufus said.

The man looked at him blankly.

“I said,
your turn
!” Rufus growled.

Grasping at his bandaged ear, the man frowned at Rufus and then smiled. “Oh, sorry,” he shouted. “I can't hear properly. I got hit on the head by a shield yesterday.”

“Good luck,” bellowed Isis.

“Eh?” said the man, swivelling around and clonking Isis in the face with his bow.

“Ouch!” squealed Isis, rubbing her cheek dramatically.

“Oh, stop being such a baby,” said Tom.

“Oops! Sorry, sonny,” said the man. As he clumsily climbed up into his saddle, a shower of arrows fell out of his quiver. One sharp point grazed the tip of Tom's toe.

“Ow!” shouted Tom, hopping on one leg.

“
Now
who's acting like a baby,” said Isis.

The man rode his horse to the far end of the arena. He bounced around in the saddle, looking like he was going to fall off. When he got to the end of the courtyard, he took his shot. The arrow whizzed through the air and landed with a clatter on the dusty ground several feet to the left of the apple.

Now it was Isis's turn.

“Wish me luck,” Isis said as she patted her horse's neck.

“You'll be brilliant,” Tom said, giving her the most encouraging smile he could muster. He knew that if Isis missed, they would never get the amulet back.

“Well, giddy-up, horsey,” Isis said, digging her heels into the side of her mount and breaking into a gallop.

The horse's hooves thundered across the arena, kicking up dust. Tom bit his lip nervously as Isis grabbed an arrow from her quiver and nocked it. She stretched the arrow back against the arch of the bow and released it with a
twang
! As the arrow flew through the air, time seemed to slow down. Was the arrow going a bit too far to the left?

Tom couldn't bear to watch.