RomanQuest (3 page)

17

 

The contingent of guards marches right past you.

You give a sigh of relief.

The guards stop and their tribune turns and walks towards you. He stares at you grimly. “I think you may be the person I'm looking for,” he says.

 

Maybe, but is he the person
you're looking for? He's some distance from the rest of the Praetorians now, so there's a chance you may be able to fight your way out of this mess at
59
. But if you don't want to risk it, you can stand up peacefully and tug your forelock at
77
.

 

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18

 

It's a bedroom - and a sumptuous one at that. Whoever lives here must have travelled a lot, or at least has a taste for exotica, since the bed has leopard-skin covers. There are animal skin rugs on the floor as well, making you wonder if the owner of this villa has a deal going with the organisers of the Games. The Brief Guide mentions somewhere that literally thousands of wild animals - lions, leopards, buffalo, hippos, crocodiles and even elephants - were trapped in Africa and brought back to the capital to take part in spectacular displays. Many of these displays were hunts so the average Games killed off almost as many animals as humans and the skins had to go somewhere.

You're just beginning to realise what a gory business life was in Ancient Rome when the skins on the bed move and a bald-headed man sits up to stare at you sleepily.

“What you doing in my bedroom?” he asks. “Are you the new slave?”

 

This is a more difficult question to answer than it sounds. You can pretend you're the new slave at
46
and take your chances that you'll be put to work when you should be looking for the wedding party. Or you can tell the truth at
158
and take the chance he won't believe you.

 

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19

 

“Wrong!” exclaims Caligula delightedly. He looks thoughtfully into the middle distance. “Drowned in a vat of steaming porridge, I think.”

 

After which painful experience, you can make your way to
13
.

 

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20

 

“OK,” you mumble, “I'll do it. But don't think I believe any of this is really happening.”

To your astonishment, the sibyl produces from a pocket in her robe a gizmo that looks for all the world like one of those communicators they use in Star Trek. She flicks it open with a practised twist of her wrist, then holds it to her mouth. “Sibyl calling Jupiter. Two to beam back.”

Instantly there is a ringing in your ears and the parkland around you begins to shimmer. You watch in amazement as the sibyl turns into a sparkling pillar that fades, then disappears completely.

It occurs to you abruptly that maybe this really is happening after all, that maybe you really are going to be transported back to Ancient Rome, that maybe the job's a lot more dangerous than she pretends.

 

But it occurs to you too late. Transform yourself into a shimmering pillar and fade to
60
.

 

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21

 

You enter the private passageway behind the Royal Box terrified that guards will set upon you at any second. And as you turn a corner, you find to your horror that you've walked right into the Praetorians. They begin to move towards you menacingly, but Cassius halts them with a gesture.

“Well done,” he tells you. “I was afraid you wouldn't get here.”

“I almost didn't,” you say honestly. “What's the story?”

“The story,” hisses Cassius, “is that our monstrous Emperor must die today. The man has been bad news from the day of his unfortunate birth and even in the short time he's been Emperor he's managed to bring Rome close to bankruptcy. After his accession he squandered everything Tiberius left in the state treasury, then resorted to extortion of prominent Roman citizens and the confiscation of their estates. He has more blood on his hands than any other Roman Emperor and that's saying something.”

Cassius glares at you and pokes his finger in the air for emphasis. “Early last year he marched with an army into Gaul. He plundered the whole country, which was quite a good thing actually since plundering Gaul is an old Roman tradition. But then he marched his troops to the northern shoreline so he could invade Britain!”

“What's wrong with that?” you ask, bewildered. “I thought invading Britain was an old Roman tradition as well.”

“It is,” thunders Cassius, “but having reached the coast he ordered his men to forget about the invasion and collect seashells! He had the idea he'd conquered the ocean and bested Neptune. The man's as nutty as a Roman fruitcake.”

“So what's happening?” you ask.

The tribune draws himself up to his full height. “What's happening is that I, Cassius Chaerea, and my friend Cornelius Sabinus, have decided to rid Rome of the monster once and for all. Everything is now in place for the assassination. Have you brought the poisoned dagger?”

 

Well have you? Should you be carrying a poisoned dagger about your person, give it to Cassius Chaerea and go to
101
. Otherwise your fate lies at
146
.

 

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22

 

You're in a corridor running directly north/south with a right angle branch about half way down running east.

 

This is a bit complicated, so pay attention. On the west wall of the main north/south corridor there are two doors. The most northerly one is to
LVIII
, the more southerly is to
LXIII
. There is only one door in the east wall of the main corridor and this leads to
XVIII
. The branch corridor (running east) has no doors in its northern wall, but there's a door in the southern wall leading to
XXXXIII
. And this branch corridor actually ends in a door at its eastern extremity to
XXXVI
.

 

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23

 

The familiar scent of old blood reaches your nostrils as you walk through the arch and along the tunnel that leads into the arena and you find yourself hoping fervently that any smell of new blood won't be your own.

As you step into the sunlight, a bored looking man walks over and hands you a trident. “You'll be one of the volunteer contingent, I expect. This is your weapon. Any next of kin?”

You shake your head. Not in this time.

“Ocus Cayus -”
(Okay, Mercury translates) “ - get over there with the rest of the amateur lunatics for your presentation to the Emperor.”

You go where he directs and find yourself in the middle of about twenty nervous young men to one side of the arena. After a moment, lectors shepherd you towards the royal box.

The familiar figure of Caligula spots you at once and waves. “Yoo-hoo!” he calls, grinning broadly. “Want to answer some more questions?”

“Here's the only answer you'll get from me this afternoon,” you shout back as you hurl your trident at his heart.

 

Now hurl your die as well. Score 1, 2 or 3 and go to
62
. Score 4, 5 or 6 and go to
124
.

 

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24

 

There are a couple of dozy-looking guards on this gate but they seem to be there just for ornament since they aren't stopping anybody or checking papers. With a huge feeling of relief you skip through the gate and onto the road out of town.

You've escaped! You're out of Pompeii before the fateful eruption! Now all you have to do is get far enough away to make sure you're safe when the volcano actually blows.

“Excuse me,” you call to a passer by, “but where will this road take me?”

“To Vesuvius!” he calls back cheerfully.

“Thank -” You stop abruptly. This road is actually going to Vesuvius? Boy, did you pick the wrong gate out of the city.

As you turn, there is a terrifying roar as the peak of Vesuvius splits open behind you and a black pine-shaped cloud erupts from the volcano showering massive red-hot cinders and great globules of molten lava.

“Arrrgh!” you howl as a great globule of molten lava lands directly on your head, burning off most of your face and eating its way through the bone of your skull.

 

After which it becomes quite difficult for you to continue your adventure. Go to
13
.

 

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25

 

The Centurion examines your pass carefully. “Glad you got one,” he remarks, “Our Caligula's very fussy about stuff like that.”

You blink. “Caligula? Did you say Caligula? But isn't Augustus the Emperor?”

“Jove bless you, no!” exclaims the Centurion kindly. “The Divine Augustus has been dead these twenty-five years or more. We've got Caligula now.” He hands you back the pass and a papyrus map of Rome. “Little gift from the Tourist Office,” he explains, saluting. “Enjoy your visit.”

Looks like Jupiter screwed up again, probably on purpose this time. But there's nothing you can do about that now. “
Sic biscuitus disintegratus
,” you murmur without benefit of the Mercury Phone, having picked up this useful bit of Latin during one of your many deaths.

The Centurion looks at you blankly. “Pardon?”

“
Sic biscuitus disintegratus
,” you repeat. “It means That's the way the cookie crumbles.”

“No, it doesn't,” says the Centurion.

“No, it doesn't,” whispers your Mercury Phone.

The Centurion frowns. “That's just pig Latin like
Caesar et sum jam forte, Brutus et erat, Caesar sic in omnibus, Brutus sic in at.
Doesn't mean anything at all. “

“But how do you translate ‘That's the way the cookie crumbles'?” you wail, desolate that you could have been fooled for so long.

“Search me,” shrugs the Centurion.

You thump your ear, but your Mercury Phone seems to have gone asleep.

Look, I know Latin is important in certain circumstances, but just at the moment you've got bigger problems than translating ‘That's the way the stupid cookie crumbles.' It's obviously too late to stop Caligula being born now, so it looks as if you're just going to have to get rid of him somehow. Maybe a good place to start would be to study your new map and visit a few places.

 

Places of Interest in Rome

 

Go to...

151
145
138
112
99
87
5
76
57
15
47
34
122

 

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26

 

He bites his lower lip thoughtfully and frowns. “I'm sure I remember you,” he repeats.

“No you don't,” you tell him. “You've never set eyes on me before. If you think you have it's probably my twin or somebody else who looks a bit like me. Or you may be confusing me with a statue. I bear an uncanny resemblance to some of the early busts of Julius Caesar. Or you may -”

“You're the young person who successfully answered every question in my Quiz of Death!” Caligula exclaims. “How good of you to come and see me. Sit down here beside me - we'll watch the games together.”

“Actually, sir, I'd prefer it if you popped out with me for a moment. I've a friend who'd really like to get your autograph.”

“Of course I'll pop out with you,” Caligula says jovially. “But only if you can answer one more question in my little Quiz of Death. Same rules as before, of course.”

“I -” you begin to protest.

“The question is this,” Caligula presses on inexorably. “How many letters are there in the name of my sainted mother? VII? Or VIII?”

 

Do you even know the name of his sainted mother? Can you spell it if you do? Can you work out the difference between the numbers VII and VIII? This is life in the fast lane of Ancient Rome. If you think the answer is VII turn to
139
. If you think it might be VIII turn to
149

 

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