The History Keepers Circus Maximus (35 page)

‘I think the sun must be getting to you,’ Nathan drawled as he focused on the rider. All at once he saw that Topaz was right. ‘What in God’s name . . .?’ He trailed off, his jaw hanging open.

‘Clever boy,’ Charlie stated, the edges of his mouth twitching into a smile. ‘I haven’t got a clue what he’s doing, of course, but he’s a clever boy.’

At this moment Jake flew past, far below. Charlie had to stop himself from jumping up and shouting out. Instead he clenched his fists in excitement and murmured to himself, ‘He has a plan! Thundering unicorns, he has a plan!’

Nathan shook his head, cautiously peering over at Agata Zeldt and Caspar Isaksen in the
pulvinar
.

Caspar was standing, mouth open, frozen in confusion – he had also seen Jake. Clearly dreading
her reaction, he leaned over and whispered in Agata’s ear. As she listened, her sadistic smile turned to an acid scowl and she bared her teeth in fury.

At this moment Charlie and Topaz gasped in unison, their expressions freezing in horror . . .

Jake saw the crash unfold. The seven remaining chariots were bunched together, charging down the home straight, when Leopardo, who was in second place, swerved over and shunted his neighbour into the wall of the
spina
. There was a blaze of sparks as the chariot ricocheted off it. It wobbled, then righted itself. Once again Leopardo sent his chariot slamming into the other. This time his opponent’s wheel sheared off and somersaulted into the air over the backs of the horses.

The beasts whinnied in panic as chariot and driver crashed down beside them. The two central ones stumbled, and dragged the others towards the
pulvinar
; then they fell, right in the path of the other teams. The oncoming horses tried to jump over the obstruction, only for their chariots to become entangled and overturn in a screeching chaotic pile, yanking the horses back.

As Jake approached the wreckage, his horse
slowed down and stopped dead, spooked, almost unseating his rider. For a moment Jake took stock, wondering if his mission to stop the race might have already been achieved.

But then he saw that Leopardo had avoided the pile of horses and vehicles and was forging on. A team of greys also managed to free themselves from the ruck and took off after him.

Once again, Jake did not think; he just acted. To his right, a team of bays had also got free, but were now pulling an empty chariot. He twisted round in his saddle and, choosing his moment carefully, threw himself off his horse and onto the chariot. He grabbed the reins and flicked them. The four horses took off, veering round the crash site and accelerating in pursuit of Leopardo and his opponent. The crowd roared in ecstasy, seemingly unaware that a new charioteer had joined the fray, while Agata Zeldt twisted her hands in vexation.

A small army of attendants emerged to remove the jumble of chariots and horses and clear the way for the remaining competitors.

As he urged his horses up the back straight, Jake saw, out of the corner of his eye, the second golden egg being turned on its axis. He held on for dear life:
the chariot was light and springy – made from nothing more than strips of wood and metal braces – and shook with every little bump in the sand. Its two eight-spoked wheels were also wooden, with bronze tyres; a central pole fixed underneath the vehicle connected it to the horses’ harnesses.

Suddenly Jake hit a deep furrow and was thrown into the air, losing his footing. He clung onto the reins and managed to land on the very back of the platform, glimpsing the track rush alarmingly beneath his feet. He pulled himself forward, securing the reins around his wrists, and planted his legs firmly. He started to get a feel for it, and accelerated, the wind loud in his ears.

23 F
IREBALL
R
OME

AFTER FOUR NAIL-BITING
laps, Jake had not managed to make up any ground at all. He had thought of turning round completely and charging towards the others head on; twice he had attempted this manoeuvre – but the horses had been trained to circle in one direction and did not understand his command. Once they had started galloping, he could barely manage to slow them down. And now the gap between him and the others had widened, and when he passed the end of the
spina
and saw the fifth golden egg being turned, he began to despair. Every part of his body was throbbing with pain; even breathing had become agonizing.

But just when he felt he could go on no longer, something appeared through the dust ahead of him – hazy at first, but gradually coming into focus. It
was the spectre of a man, hovering in the air before him. The uproar around Jake faded away as the figure took shape. His bearing was noble, his smile warm, his eyes bright. It was his brother Philip – not as he was when he disappeared three years ago, but as he would be now: a young man of seventeen. Jake knew that this was simply a mirage, a product of his delirium, but now he felt sure that Philip was alive somewhere, that he was calling him from some dark corner of history. The apparition faded and finally vanished, the eyes lingering a moment longer than the rest.

Once again the thunderous roar of the crowd deafened him – the sound had returned, along with his resolve. If Philip was alive somewhere in this world – somewhere in this multiverse of time –
that
was a reason to go on.

Jake bent his knees and urged his horses on faster. The crowd, sensing his determination, leaped to their feet as he swung round the end of the
spina
, hurtling into the far straight.

Agata Zeldt, no longer keeping a low profile, rushed to the edge of the royal terrace (literally stepping on the toes of the emperor), gaping as Jake advanced. He saw her – a flash of red hair as he flew past.

The ground trembled as he began to catch up with the other two teams. Finally he drew level with the second charioteer, a huge, muscular man with a dark beard and a scarred face, who did not turn to look at Jake, but stared imperiously ahead, using his whip on his straining greys.

Just as Jake overtook on the inside, his opponent suddenly veered over, trying to force Jake against the wall of the
spina
. But he held his ground, and the chariots locked together. Now they went careering off in the other direction, towards the perimeter wall. Jake forced his opponent further and further over, so that his outer wheel dropped into the deep drainage gulley. It screeched along, forcing both chariots almost to a standstill. Suddenly Jake managed to disengage his wheel as his adversary tipped over and fell to the ground.

The roars of the crowd were now at fever pitch. Jake charged on in pursuit of Leopardo’s black chariot. As he headed round the
spina
once more, he saw the
sixth
golden egg being turned on its end. One lap to go.

Leopardo finally glanced round and did a double-take when he realized who was behind him. He flicked his whip at Jake, who saw in horror that
each of its tendrils ended in a razor-sharp claw. Jake ducked as it whistled past his head and pierced the flank of one of his stallions. The horse cried out in agony as the razor scoured out a tranche of flesh. Jake seethed with fury, determined to defeat this monster. When Leopardo brought his whip down a second time, Jake seized an end, wrapped it around his hand and yanked, almost dislodging his enemy. But Leopardo pulled back even harder, tightening the leather around Jake’s hand.

The Leopard had further tricks up his sleeve: he kicked a lever on the floor of his vehicle, whereupon a series of knives shot out from the hubs of his wheels. He smiled maliciously as he pulled on the whip, dragging Jake’s chariot in towards the rotating blades.

Jake was powerless to stop it: the spokes of his wheel splintered, the axle snapped, and the chariot went flying, taking Jake with it. He pressed down and launched himself, somersaulting through the air and landing with a jolt on the shaft of Leopardo’s vehicle. He looked down and saw the ground thundering past inches below him.

The crowd was euphoric. Everyone leaped up out of their seats, shrieking with delight – everyone
except Agata, whose nails were digging into her neck. Next to her, Caspar watched in blank confusion.

As Jake picked himself up, balancing precariously on the straining shaft, Leopardo, no longer smiling, drew his sword and slashed out at him. Jake dodged the blade, then lunged forward, taking hold of the boy’s wrist and smashing it down on the front of the chariot. As the weapon clattered to the floor, Jake leaped over and head-butted Leopardo; but the savage managed to grab hold of Jake’s face. As the black stallions galloped towards the finishing line, Leopardo squeezed tighter and tighter, his fingers digging into Jake’s eyes.

Agata felt she could breathe again – but only for a second. Suddenly the horses stumbled over a piece of wreckage. The reins were pulled out of Leopardo’s hand. Jake took his chance, and punched him on the chin, then on the cheek – before leaping out and rolling across the sand. For a moment Leopardo teetered drunkenly on. Then the chariot crashed into the wall, and he was hurled out, to land sprawled in the drainage gulley.

The seventh golden egg had still not been turned.

Agata’s bloodless lips trembled. For a terrible
moment she thought her son was dead, but then he moved his head and tried to lift his arm. She turned, spitting, to two of her guards. ‘Help him, you idiots!’

As they made their way down onto the track, Agata noticed three more figures leaping down into the arena: Nathan, Charlie and Topaz. ‘Traitors! Witch!’ she cried, rounding on the remaining soldiers. ‘Kill them!’ Her face was purple with fury. ‘Kill them all! Hack them to pieces!’ So piercing was her cry, Caspar and Austerio put their fingers in their ears and watched as the guards charged down onto the track.

The History Keepers dashed over to Jake. Topaz fell to her knees beside him. ‘Jake!’ she gasped, cradling his head in her hands. His face was almost unrecognizable, covered as it was with congealed blood, cuts and bruises.

His eyes flickered open, and when he saw the apparition above him, a hazy goddess framed in sunlight, he smiled.

‘What were you doing?’ she asked in amazement.

‘F-fireball,’ Jake stammered.

‘Fireball?’ Nathan asked. ‘What fireball?’

Jake gathered his wits. ‘Bomb,’ he told them.
‘Gunpowder. There.’ He pointed a bloody finger towards the
spina
. ‘The senators . . .’ He mimed an explosion with his hands. ‘
The end of dominions
.’

‘There are bombs underneath the
spina
?’ Charlie clarified.

Jake nodded, pointing again. ‘When the seventh egg is turned.’

A jolt of realization shook them all.

‘The plan is to murder the senators,’ Charlie exclaimed, ‘not the emperor.’

‘We have to get them off there . . .’ Nathan’s brain was already searching for a solution.

Jake reached out for Topaz, clutching her hand. For a second he lost himself in her eyes. They had been cold and hard for so long, but now they seemed to sparkle like they had the day he first met her. ‘Lucius is safe,’ he said.

Topaz leaned over and kissed him. ‘You’re astonishing,’ she whispered.

‘Topaz! Behind you!’ Nathan shouted as the guards approached, swords drawn.

Topaz jumped up, drawing her own weapon as she swung round. She fought them off with ruthless precision, Charlie and Nathan quickly coming to her aid. All three were so ablaze with passion, so
sharp with adrenalin, they dispatched the soldiers almost instantly.

Jake felt a warm thrill pulse through him. ‘
You’re astonishing
,’ he repeated to himself, and decided that, if he died now, he would die happy.

More soldiers jumped down into the deep gutter to help Leopardo. Though dazed, he had only one thing on his mind: the seventh golden egg. ‘On your knees,’ he ordered one of the men, who duly bent down. Leopardo used him as a step to clamber back onto the track. But when he emerged into the blazing sun, the whole stadium swam in front of his eyes and he collapsed onto the sand.

Once more the guards pulled him to his feet. He shoved them aside and doggedly limped off towards the golden eggs at the end of the
spina
. ‘You will die,’ he snarled at the senators. ‘All of you will die.’

Agata’s eyes widened in alarm as she watched him. ‘Darling,’ she murmured, ‘what are you doing . . .?’

Once again Leopardo’s legs gave way; but once again he picked himself up and pressed on.

Nathan realized that he had to act fast. He spun round and tore over to the plinth where the bears were chained up. He picked out a huge joint of meat from the feeding basket and then unshackled
the largest – a great beast covered in scars. Using the meat as bait, he lured the bear along the track towards the steps at the other end of the
spina
. A number of the senators watched in horror as the bear lumbered across the sand towards them, snarling and salivating. Some of them started to edge away and climb down the far side, running for cover.

Agata was not watching them. Her eyes were grimly focused on Leopardo, now climbing up the steps towards the golden eggs. ‘Darling’ – she shook her head in confusion – ‘what are you doing?’ She turned on Caspar. ‘What is he doing?’ He didn’t need to answer. Leopardo meant to detonate the bomb himself.

The bear padded along, hypnotized by the smell of the bloody meat. Suddenly it lunged towards it – but, like a bullfighter, Nathan twisted it out of reach. The great beast reared up on its hind legs, growling in fury.

The watching crowd were once again on their feet, thrilled by this unexpected twist to the games.

Now Leopardo had reached the top of the steps and was staggering towards the row of eggs. His expression was so murderous that the counting officials fled into the throng. He stepped onto the
plinth and reached up for the last egg. The metal, scorching hot from the sun, burned his hand as he touched it.

Realizing that there was no time left, Nathan swung round and hurled the joint of meat. It spiralled through the air, flicking a helix of blood in all directions, towards the heart of the
spina
. A group of senators watched in astonishment as it spun down towards them. They parted, and it landed with a crunch on the stone. The bear took off after it, bounding up the steps. In unison, six hundred senators sent up a howl of terror, and started throwing themselves over the parapet, a great sea of white and purple pouring down onto the track; it spread across the stadium like a giant flower suddenly opening its petals. The bear was big and clumsy, and struggled to climb the narrow stairs towards its prey.