Serial Sunday: The Three Who Loved Pizza, Part III

By

Esperanza Abolou

Rafaela Abolou

Mohammad Bhatti

Imogen Locke

Aakshaya Ninintheeban

Alice-Jane Pezet

Aruj Sharma

Edited by David Flin.

Chapter Five

Things would have been a lot easier if they didn’t ask so many questions, Miss Snodgrass thought. They wanted to know where all the horses were, where the soldiers were, why was no-one wearing a toga, what made the chariots go, why there were so many people, and why did so many of them look different.

They asked about the houses and the windows, about watches and umbrellas, about the noise and the hairstyles and some of the more decorative dogs.

“Coats for dogs?” Flavius asked, astonished. “Why? Just – why? Haven’t they got fur?”

Miss Snodgrass decided that the first thing to do was to get them sensible clothes. She led the way to a clothing shop on the High Street and walked towards the automatic glass doors. These swung open soundlessly; the soldiers stood and stared at it in amazement.

“What magic is this?” Flavius demanded. “How did the door know that it had to open, and how did it open?”

“It’s just an automatic door,” Miss Snodgrass explained to them. “It opens by electricity.”

“And how does this electricity work?”

Miss Snodgrass didn’t know, and she tried to think how she could explain it. Before she could, Flavius spoke.

“As I thought. It is some sort of magic, something from Hecate. [1] But why do you spend so much magic on so small a thing?”

Meanwhile Brutus and Cassius played with the doors, stepping forward and back to make the doors constantly open and close.

Brutus said: “Sir, if we approach the door from the side, the door doesn’t see us until the last minute. It only looks ahead of it.”

“Well done, Brutus,” said Flavius with heavy sarcasm. “You have outwitted a door.”

Miss Snodgrass led them inside so that they could get normal clothes. How hard could that be, she thought.

Pretty hard, it turned out. They didn’t like suits and they didn’t like tee-shirts and jeans. They didn’t like formal wear and they didn’t like beach casual. They didn’t like jumpers or sweat-shirts or hoodies.

“What do you like?” Miss Snodgrass asked in an exasperated tone.

Brutus nudged Cassius and pointed at some curtains. “We can use that to make a toga. They have bright colours.”

“Togas!” Miss Snodgrass exclaimed. She was astonished. “No-one wears togas anymore. They’re not practical.”

“That’s not true,” Cassius said. “We will wear togas and we will look magnificent.”

“It will take more than a toga to make you look magnificent,” Brutus replied. “I, on the other hand, will look magnificent. I’ve got the build for it. Lady, we shall take these and make a splendid toga for me and an adequate toga for Cassius.

Miss Snodgrass couldn’t get them to change their mind. At the back of her mind, she thought she remembered that only certain classes of Romans were allowed to wear togas, but she didn’t like to argue.

Meanwhile, Flavius had found something he liked. He had found a bright red dressing gown, and he paraded up and down in it.

“I like this,” he said. “It is warm and it has pockets and it is a good colour. Now, it is time for food.”

Chapter Six

The three children walked the horses around the courtyard, keeping an eye on where all the adults were. There weren’t many people around. It looked like most of them were working around the buildings or out in the fields driving sheep.

They glanced at each other and checked around. No-one important seemed to be paying them the slightest bit of attention. They led the horses through the courtyard towards the open gate.

“We’re going to graze them where the grass is better,” Mary said in a low voice to the doorkeeper, who just grunted incomprehensibly in reply.

“Was that a yes or a no?” Nia hissed to the others.

Mary continued walking and leading her pony towards the gate, her heart in her mouth as she did so. She reached the gate and continued, looking straight ahead and trying not to tremble as she walked.

Nia and Geoff followed, with Nia trying to hide the bulging saddlebags on her horse. They contained her history books and she was sure they would be useful.

“I thought that getting away would be more, I don’t know, exciting,” said Geoff as the three continued to lead the horses away from the villa. “Jumping the horses over a wall or something cool like that.”

Mary sighed. “The wall is ten feet high. You’ve not ridden a horse before. How well do you think you would have done?”

“Well, I suppose, but this was kind of boring.”

“They’re going to be annoyed with us,” said Nia. “This is twice that we’ve escaped in two days.”

“Nia, we weren’t here the first time. We didn’t escape then, and we’re not escaping this time because we’re not villa servants so we shouldn’t have been there in the first place.”

“It sounds better my way,” Nia muttered.

They were out of sight of the villa now, and they got on their horses. Mary got on easily enough, even though there were no stirrups. [2] She often rode horses at home on the farm. However, Nia and Geoff hadn’t ridden a horse before.

Geoff climbed up and struggled and squirmed to get settled into the saddle. When he looked up, he saw the horse’s tail swishing. The horse’s head was behind him. He heard Mary laughing.

“You got on the wrong way round,” she laughed. “You’re facing backwards.”

“I meant to do that,” Geoff lied. Just then, he heard a thump from where Nia and her horse were.

Nia lay in the mud on the ground looking up at the horse. The horse looked amused; the saddle lay in a heap on the ground next to Nia.

“Oh, that old trick,” said Mary. “You didn’t tighten the leather straps enough.”

“But I did!” Nia wailed.

“The horse outwitted you. Look, watch.” Mary put the saddle back on the horse and held the straps ready to tighten them.

“Watch. He takes a deep breath now so his chest is larger. This is when you tightened the strap around him. When he let his breath out, the saddle became loose. We wait until he breathes out, like now….”

Mary swiftly tightened the straps as hard as she could. The horse looked annoyed.

“That’ll be fine now,” Mary said. “Just make sure he doesn’t try to lower his head and drop you off that way.”

“How do I stop him?” Nia wailed as she slipped off again and fell once more into the mud.

“You’ve got reins. If he lowers his head, pull it back up. The bit in his mouth will make sure he doesn’t lower his head if you don’t want him to.”

It took some time, but eventually they were ready to ride. Nia was covered in mud and Geoff wobbled uneasily on his horse. He found it difficult to get used to the motion of the horse walking. He held on grimly.

“This is fun,” said Mary, the only one of them who was enjoying the ride. Geoff continued to wobble and Nia held on grimly, trying not to bounce in the saddle as she rode. She was constantly bumping her bottom as she went up and down. “Can’t it walk without bouncing?” she complained.

They rode past hills and saw sheep on the hillsides. Geoff was sure he saw a wolf. Nia said that it was probably just a dog. “Wolves don’t live in Britain anymore, except in zoos.”

“What do you mean, anymore?” Geoff asked. He sounded uncertain.

“It’s just that there hasn’t been a wild wolf in Britain since about the Fifteenth Century,” Nia said confidently.

“What year is it now?” Mary asked, suddenly looking around for wild wolves.

“I’m hungry,” said Geoff. “Let’s find somewhere we can buy food. There won’t be any wolves in a town.”

They rode on, looking for signs of a town. Nia kept falling off her horse, and Geoff kept complaining that he was hungry. Mary still enjoyed the ride, but she kept looking out for wolves.

After about an hour, they saw a group of buildings near a steep hill. They rode closer and saw some large houses – Mary thought they were farmhouses – around some warehouse-type buildings.

There were two men beside the road, one tall and fair-haired and fit; the other was short and dark-haired, with a wild, bushy beard.

“You’re a long way from home,” said the dark-haired man.

“You don’t know the half of it,” muttered Nia under her breath.

“We’d like to buy some food,” said Geoff, getting to the point as quickly as he could. The sooner they got food, then the sooner he could eat something. He swung his leg over the horse and jumped to the ground. Then he screamed in pain, holding his legs.

“Ow. Ow, ow, ow ow,” he said, hobbling in a painful shuffle as the muscles in his legs and back felt like needles were being pushed into them.

“You’re not used to riding, are you,” asked the fair-haired man, smiling. “Riding isn’t like walking. It takes a while to get used to it. My name is Artus and my friend here is Myrddin. I guess your name must be Gongu.”

The three children looked blank.

“Gongu. It means ‘someone who walks’; it’s obvious that you’re not a rider,” Artus explained.

“Very funny,” said Geoff with a scowl. “Do you have any food we can buy? Pizza or hot dogs or something.”

“Hot dogs?” Artus mused. “That is a strange dish. Still, each to their own. Myrddin eats no meat at all, because he claims to be able to talk to animals and he says he never eats someone he’s had a conversation with.”

Nia whispered. “What are we going to use for money to buy food with?”

Even though Nia had whispered quietly, Myrddin overheard her. “You’ve got three horses, and only one of you can ride. We’ll give you food in exchange for the horses.”

Mary spluttered. “Three horses for food? Do we look stupid?”

“What else have you got for sale?” Myrddin asked. Artus looked at the horses and they seemed to trust him.

Mary looked at Nia. “What about one of your books? We can buy you another when we get back.”

“Books?” asked Myrddin eagerly.

“Well, he can’t have any of my books on the Romans,” Nia said. “We need them. I need them.”

“And not my books on spaceships,” said Geoff. “I’m going to need them when I’m a rocket scientist.”

Myrddin looked puzzled, and he stared at Geoff for a long time. “What is a spaceship?” he finally asked.

This was a mistake. Geoff explained, and his explanation was very fast and at great length. Myrddin only understood a few words. Eventually, he was able to grasp an idea. “So, it is like some sort of magical or holy vessel? That sounds amazing.”

“Yes, rockets are amazing,” said Geoff, glad someone else agreed with him.

“Food,” said Artus, trying to bring Myrddin back to the point of the discussion.

Nia reluctantly picked a book from her saddlebag. “It’s about Camelot and the Knights of the Round Table and King Arthur,” she said. “I didn’t really enjoy it. King Arthur wasn’t real. I prefer real history.”

“King?” said Artus, who was now suddenly very interested.

Nia reluctantly handed over the book. Myrddin muttered, fumbled around inside his pack, and took some hot dogs out of it. Geoff started eating them straight away.

“They taste funny,” he said through a full mouth when he was on his third. “Are they pork sausages?”

Myrddin looked at Artus. Artus looked at Myrddin. “You asked for hot dogs. These are hot dogs.”

“Yes, but what are they made of. You made then, you should know what they’re made of. Hey, wait a minute. You don’t eat meat. Why did you make hot dogs?”

“I am not eating meat. I simply made these,” said Myrddin. “These are hot dogs. They are made of dog meat.” [3]

At this point, Mary saw a group of riders wearing green tunics approaching. They shouted when they saw the children and horses.

“Horse thieves!” they called out.

Mary, Nia, and Geoff got on their horses and rode away; the riders started to chase them.

As they did so, Myrddin looked at his new book.

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[1] Hecate was the Roman Goddess of Magic.

[2] Stirrups weren't invented until much later.

[3] The Romans made sausages from many meats, including pork, seafood, chicken, duck, goose, horse, and dog. Hot dogs themselves were invented in around the 17th Century.

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David Flin has written & edited a large number of alternate history books and all-ages novels, and edited Comedy Throughout the (P)Ages and How To Write Alternate History.