The Golden Acorn (21 page)

‘Why isn’t the centurion we saw this morning with the rest of the legion?’

‘I don’t know, but he’s the one who’s been killing the Druids and torching the groves in this area. He brings back any valuables he can find from the local shrines and give them to Maximus; I think he gets a share.’

Jack could see the centurion’s armour flash and his red plume bobbing up and down through a clump of trees in the distance.

‘They’ll be a while yet,’ said Camelin. ‘Are you hungry?’

‘Every time I transform I’m hungry,’ confessed Jack.

‘Well I might just know where we can get fed.Follow me.’

Camelin led the way round to the far end of the camp. They used the trees and stayed hidden. Eventually he stopped opposite a group of long buildings.

‘These are the barracks. I used to fly over when they were cooking. Each barrack has its own bread freshly baked every morning.’

Camelin nodded towards a group of beehive-shaped ovens near the perimeter wall.

‘They won’t be using many of them today because there aren’t many soldiers in camp.’

Jack could smell cooking but it smelt more like bacon than bread. He wasn’t sure he wanted to find out what it was, just in case it was barbecued raven.

‘Somebody’s having a fry up,’ Camelin said excitedly.

‘Is that bacon I can smell?’

‘Yes, course it is. Each barrack has its own frying pan. They won’t be short on rations at the moment; looks like pig’s on the menu.’

‘So they might not be interested in raven if they’ve got bacon,’ said Jack hopefully.

For a few minutes they enjoyed the delicious smells, then Camelin puffed out his chest feathers, which was always a sign he had something important to say.

‘Stay here. I’ll go and get our breakfast.’

He was off before Jack could answer. It wasn’t long before he came back with what looked like a rather large flat bread cake in his beak.

‘Mind you don’t burn yourself, it’s only just come out of the oven.’

It wasn’t quite the kind of bread Jack was used to but it tasted good and he was grateful that Camelin’s speciality was finding food. It didn’t last long but at least they’d eaten. Camelin was keeping a keen eye out in case they were disturbed but Jack was more interested in what he could see through an open doorway.

‘Is that a wolf’s skin in there?’ he asked.

‘It is,’ confirmed Camelin. ‘It belongs to one of the standard bearers. There are three of them; they go at the front of the legion. They each carry poles with different things on top and either wear a bear, lion or wolf skin over their helmet. It’s an honoured position.’

‘Why haven’t they taken this one with them?’

‘It’s an old one,’ replied Camelin. ‘I know about this skin. It belonged to that wolf I told you about, you know, the one who ate Dagbert, King of the Sparrows. He stole a chicken and choked on one of the bones; everyone thought it served him right.’

Jack wasn’t sure if Camelin was making it up but it seemed a fitting end for a wolf that liked eating sparrows. His thoughts were interrupted by a sudden loud noise.

‘What’s that?’

‘It’s a horn. You get used to it. It means the soldiers have arrived,’ explained Camelin. ‘Come on, back to the gate.

‘Look!’ exclaimed Jack excitedly as the fort sprang into life.

Soldiers appeared and lined the walkway above the gatehouse.

‘Titus Antonius Agrippa,’ the centurion shouted up to the guard.

The gate began to open and soldiers saluted as Titus Antonius rode into the fort. He dismounted and dismissed the tent party. Jack and Camelin watched as the centurion strode down the main street. The foot soldiers turned and made their way back to their barracks. Camelin nudged Jack. They flew back to the long huts and watched the soldier with the cooking pots go into the middle one.

‘What do we do now?’ Jack whispered.

‘Wait till there’s no one around, then you can slip in, grab the plates, drop them in the well and off we go. This is going to be easier than I thought.’

They settled down but before long the middle door opened again and a soldier came out. He was carrying something.

‘It’s him,’ said Jack, ‘the soldier with the scar on his chin and he’s got the plates.’

Camelin groaned, ‘I think I know where he’ll be going.’

They watched the soldier go back to the important looking buildings. He stood outside the middle door and knocked loudly. A voice from within shouted something and the soldier replied, ‘Marcus Cornelius Drusus, I have something which might be important.’

The door opened and Drusus entered the office. It was important that Jack and Camelin knew what was being said so they risked being seen and flew onto the roof. Maximus was already speaking.

‘…and it was the young boy you killed, not the Druid, who was carrying these plates?’

‘Yes Prefect,’ Drusus confirmed.

‘And you thought you’d get a reward for bringing me two worthless bits of metal?’ the Prefect shouted. ‘They’re only good for smelting. Don’t any of these people use gold or silver?’

Camelin and Jack looked at each other. Jack couldn’t risk saying anything but he knew Camelin was thinking the same. Why hadn’t Drusus taken all three plates to show the Prefect?

‘My apologies for bothering you,’ Drusus replied. ‘I thought they might be of some importance. The boy had them hidden in his tunic; he lost his life trying to escape with them.’

‘That will be all Drusus,’ the Prefect said gruffly.

Jack heard the clang of metal from inside the office before the door opened and Drusus stepped out. Jack’s heart sank; the soldier’s hands were empty, the plates were gone.

‘Looks like we’ve got a problem,’ sighed Camelin when they were safely back in the tree outside the fort. ‘We could have done without the plates being in two different places and especially when one of those places is the Prefect’s office. It’s going to be twice as difficult and more dangerous trying to retrieve them now.’

THIEF

Jack was worried; he didn’t want to stay inside the fort a moment longer than he had to.

‘Do we wait until it’s dark?’ he asked.

‘No, they double the guard at night. It’s probably best for you to go into the Prefect’s office when he goes out to brief the soldiers. He does it every morning. When I used to come over here, spying for Nora, it was always the best time to help myself to any breakfast leftovers. The whole camp assembles in the big space in the middle, the bit they call the forum. Maximus always keeps them standing there for ages. After he’s given them their daily orders he comes back to his office until lunchtime.’

Three long blasts from the horn they’d heard earlier echoed around the fortress.

‘What’s that mean?’ asked Jack.

‘It means Quintus Flavius Maximus is ready to address the camp. You’ll be able to get in there now. Come on, follow me.’

They flew low over the buildings, avoiding groups of soldiers as they hurried towards the forum.

‘When you’ve got these plates you’ll have time to find out what Drusus did with the other one. The soldiers don’t go back to their barracks until later.’

Jack was feeling nervous. Although the plates didn’t belong to Maximus he didn’t feel right about searching the Camp Prefect’s office. If they caught him they’d think he was a thief.

He’d tried to memorise the plan of the camp while they’d been up in the tree. It was useful being able to fly. Having a bird’s eye view of a place made it easier to understand where everything was. He thought he’d be able to make his way back to the well without any trouble once he had the plates.

‘Are you ready to transform?’ asked Camelin.

‘Ready,’ replied Jack.

They landed on the ground behind the office buildings. The street was deserted. In the distance Jack could hear the Prefect’s loud voice. They touched foreheads. The blinding light still penetrated Jack’s eyes even though he’d had them tightly closed. When he opened them he’d transformed, the only problem was that he was naked.

‘Oh!’ he moaned. ‘I’d forgotten about this part of the transformation.’

Jack carefully made his way to the end of the first building. He was glad it was June and not the middle of winter; even so, it was cool in the shade. He was shaking but that was probably because he was afraid rather than cold. His first priority was to find something to wear. His feet hurt from the gravel on the road but he doubted he’d be able to find any shoes to fit. He could still hear Maximus shouting orders but now he’d transformed he couldn’t understand what he was saying.

He hadn’t thought what he’d do if the door was locked. Luckily it wasn’t. He slipped in through the doorway and looked around for something to put on. The room was lighter than he’d anticipated. All the walls were white; the one without a window was decorated with a battle scene. There was a large table, its legs carved in the shape of lion’s feet, with matching chairs. A long reclining seat under the painted wall had a brown woollen blanket draped over the back. He grabbed it and wrapped it around his shoulders. His feet were freezing on the cobbled floor. Jack went and stood on the rug in the middle of the room while he looked around. Near the table was a large basket full to the brim with metal objects. On the top were two large bronze plates. He grabbed them, quickly looked outside to see if it was safe to go, and then made his way back to the place where he’d transformed.

‘Camelin,’ he whispered, ‘I’ve got them.’

Camelin swooped down.

‘Look, I’ve got them,’ Jack said triumphantly.

‘Those aren’t the ones.’

‘They’re not!’ exclaimed Jack in disbelief as he examined them closely.

They were made of bronze and looked about the right shape and size. One plate was decorated with a man sitting cross-legged holding a snake, and the other had some kind of four-legged animal. To his horror Jack realised his mistake; not only were the pictures wrong, they didn’t have any holes in the sides either. Nora had shown him three of the plates and he’d been told they would all be embossed with a tree. He’d even been told about the cauldron’s construction. Nora said she laced the plates together using leather thongs. He should have looked more closely at the plates and made sure they were the right ones.

‘I’m sorry,’ said Jack. ‘I didn’t expect there’d be any other cauldron plates in there. I’ll go back and have another look.’

‘Not now you won’t. The Camp Prefect will be on his way back any minute now the briefing’s over.’

‘What shall I do?’ he asked mournfully.

‘The soldiers won’t be back in their barracks for ages. You can go over there and get the third one back. Just remember it’ll be really dull and dirty and have a hawthorn, oak or willow tree embossed on the front.’

‘I’d rather fly over to the barracks, if you don’t mind. These stones are killing my feet; they’re really hard to walk on.’

‘Ready?’ Camelin asked.

‘Yes,’ sighed Jack.

Seconds later he shook the woollen blanket off his back. It dropped and covered the two bronze plates. They were soon flying towards the barracks at the far end of the camp. Each of the long buildings had a covered veranda where, earlier, the soldiers had been cooking their breakfast. They landed and touched foreheads once more. Jack was glad he’d got used to the strange sensation as his body transformed. After the blinding flash he stood naked again. Thankfully no one was about. Camelin looked longingly at the veranda.

‘While you’re inside I might just go and check out that covered area to see if there’s anything left to eat.’

Jack couldn’t believe Camelin was willing to risk being seen for the sake of a few scraps of bacon which might, or might not, have been left.

‘Oh Camelin, I need you to keep a watch and warn me if anyone comes!’

‘I can do that from the veranda. if I see anything I’ll do the raven-owl call.’

‘Well just be careful, don’t go getting caught,’ Jack whispered before he dashed over to the door.

He stepped inside a neat, tidy room with rows of identical beds. He took a thin sheet off the first one and wrapped it around himself. There didn’t seem to be many places to look apart from the floor, which had been swept clean. At the far end of the room was another door; Jack made his way over to it. He cautiously pushed it open a fraction and peeped through the crack. It was full of equipment. There were helmets, shields, spears, several different kinds of armour, long and short swords, everything you could possibly need if you were a soldier in the Roman army. Jack wished he could have tried the helmets and armour on but there wasn’t time.

Underneath one of the windows he saw the soldiers’ packs. This was where he needed to search. Unfortunately they all looked the same now the equipment had been put away. The first three Jack looked in didn’t have anything other than rations inside. The sheet was getting in his way and kept slipping down his arms. He’d seen a pile of red tunics on a table and swapped the sheet for one of these. The tunic came down to his ankles but it was better than the sheet.

The next pack he searched was the one he was looking for. He nearly cried out with joy when he saw the missing cauldron plate. It was much heavier and thicker than the ones from the Prefect’s office. Camelin was right, it was tarnished and quite dirty. Embossed into the middle was an oak tree and there were holes down each side. He’d not be able to transform again while he had the plate; it would be far too heavy for him to lift in his beak. He’d have to stay like this and hope he wasn’t seen as he made his way back through the camp to the Prefect’s office.

Camelin was waiting by the door. Jack could see his beak was shiny with grease and presumed he’d rooted around in at least one of the frying pans.

‘Is this it?’

‘That’s the one,’ Camelin croaked and hopped around Jack to show how pleased he was.

‘We’d better get back to the Prefect’s office so we can see when he goes out again,’ said Jack impatiently. ‘The sooner I can get back in there the better.’

‘That tunic’s a bit bright.’

‘I know, but if I keep in the shadows I should be alright. I’ll swap it for the brown blanket when we get back to the offices.’

Camelin flew ahead to see if anyone was around. Jack followed as best he could, keeping close to the buildings to avoid being seen. At the same time he tried to pick out a route that didn’t involve stepping on the gravel. He was almost in the centre of the camp when something sharp prodded him in the back. He stopped and turned around. A soldier with a drawn sword shouted at him. Jack couldn’t understand what he said. Two more soldiers appeared. There was nothing else Jack could do but stand very still. It wasn’t long before Maximus came hurrying around the corner accompanied by two guards.

Maximus pointed and shouted loudly; Jack didn’t move. He realised the danger he was in. He’d stolen the tunic and the plate was in his hand. He’d not had time to do anything else with it. He couldn’t run and escape. There was a sword pointing at his chest and soldiers were appearing from everywhere; he was completely surrounded. The two guards next to Maximus each grabbed one of Jack’s arms, held him firmly and suspended him above the ground. He kicked out with his swinging legs but to no avail. The guards followed Maximus with their captive.

Once they were outside the Camp Prefect’s office Maximus snatched the plate from Jack and examined it closely. He shouted more orders to the soldiers before disappearing into his office.

The soldiers laughed as Jack struggled again. He wondered if Camelin could see or hear what was happening. Should he call out? Would the soldiers understand him if he spoke? He decided he ought to warn Camelin and summoned up his loudest voice.

‘Fly!’ he yelled. ‘I’m caught!’

The soldiers laughed even harder but Jack felt happier when he saw Camelin disappear over the wall into a nearby tree. He’d heard the warning.

Maximus strode out of his office and the soldiers immediately fell silent. He began shouting angrily again and looked intently at Jack as if waiting for an answer.

‘I don’t understand,’ Jack said and shook his head.

Maximus threw his arms in the air and spoke gruffly to the soldiers. Jack knew he was in a lot of trouble. The Camp Prefect looked furious. Jack was taken around the back of the offices into a quadrangle. Another soldier appeared with a set of leg irons and he was pushed to the ground and shackled to a post. His arms and body ached from the rough treatment. He pulled at the irons. The bands weren’t tight but there was no way he’d be able to wriggle his feet free. Even if he did escape would be impossible. One of the soldiers had remained in the quadrangle standing guard.

The sun beat down on Jack’s head. There wasn’t any shade and the cobbles were hot and uncomfortable to sit on. Luckily the tunic was big enough to pull over his head and gave him some protection from the sun. He had no idea what to do next. He could hear the whole camp being searched. What would happen when the soldiers found what they were looking for? Somehow Jack didn’t think Maximus was going to release him. What would Nora tell his Dad and Grandad if he never got home again? He tried to put these thoughts out of his head but there wasn’t much else to think about, until he wanted a drink. By now the sun was directly overhead and all Jack could think about was a glass of cool water. He racked his brain to remember any Latin words that might help him. Then it struck him,
aqua
meant water. He shouted over to the guard.