Diary of Dorkius Maximus in Egypt Read online

  Written by Tim Collins

  Illustrated by Andrew Pinder

  Edited by Sophie Schrey and Philippa Wingate

  Cover design by Angie Allison

  Design by Barbara Ward

  First published in Great Britain in 2013 by Buster Books,

  an imprint of Michael O’Mara Books Limited,

  9 Lion Yard, Tremadoc Road, London SW4 7NQ

  Copyright © Buster Books 2013

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means, without the prior permission in writing of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

  ISBN: 978-1-78055-028-2 in paperback print format

  ISBN: 978-1-78055-209-5 in Epub format

  ISBN: 978-1-78055-208-8 in Mobipocket format

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  Contents

  September I

  September II

  September III

  September IV

  September V

  September VI

  September VII

  September VIII

  September IX

  September X

  September XI

  September XIV

  September XV

  September XVI

  September XVII

  September XVIII

  September XIX

  September XX

  September XXI

  September XXII

  September XXIII

  September XXIV

  September XXV

  September XXVI

  September XXVII

  September XXVIII

  September XXIX

  October I

  October II

  October III

  October IV

  October V

  October VI

  October VII

  October XIII

  October XV

  October XVIII

  October XIX

  October XXV

  October XXVI

  October XXVII

  October XXVIII

  October XXIX

  November VII

  November VIII

  November IX

  November X

  November XIV

  November XVI

  November XX

  November XXI

  November XXVI

  December I

  December IV

  December V

  December VIII

  Ancient Roman and Egyptian words and names

  A Note On Roman Numerals

  September I

  Big news. Our glorious leader Julius Caesar is travelling to Egypt next week, and guess who he’s taking with him?

  Me, that’s who.

  He wants me to meet Egypt’s ruler, a pharaoh called Ptolemy. Except his name has got a silent ‘p’, so you have to pronounce it ‘Tolemy’ or he gets angry, apparently. Sounds like a bit of a ptwerp to me.

  Ptolemy and I are the same age, so Caesar reckons I can make friends with him and convince him to pay back a load of money he owes to Rome. Seems simple enough.

  A map showing where we are going

  Caesar can obviously tell I’m going to be a great Roman hero, and I won’t let him down. Dad was quite proud of me when I told him, but Mum missed the point as usual.

  ‘That’ll be a nice little holiday for you dear,’ she said.

  Holiday? This is an IMPORTANT political mission, not a relaxing day at the chariot races.

  I asked her if she was worried about what might happen to me and she said she’d ask her sacred chickens.

  She’s crazy about those chickens. She feeds them grain and quizzes them about the future. If they eat the grain, it means things will be okay. But if they refuse, it’s a warning of bad things to come.

  Today the chickens ate their grain, so she thinks I’ll be fine on my trip.

  It’s a bonkers way to run your life, but I’m not complaining. If I had a sane mum who made rational decisions, I probably wouldn’t get to go at all.

  September II

  I told my (so-called friend) Cornelius about my trip. He was really jealous and told me the sea was full of gullibles – fire-breathing monsters that destroy ships. I knew he was making it up, but checked with Dad when I got home, just in case. Dad said the boat would only be destroyed if they put me in charge. Maybe he’s jealous, too ...

  September III

  Well this is totally NOT brilliant. I asked Dad if I could take our best slave, Linos, and he said no. He said Linos would be too hard to replace if we were killed. Like that’s going to be a worry for him if his OWN SON dies.

  Dad said I could take Odius instead, as he’s far less valuable. Of course he’s less valuable, he never does anything. He just skulks around stealing food and burping. I suppose I could use him as a raft if the ship sank, but that’s about all.

  September IV

  GREAT NEWS! Linos is coming after all. I managed to trick my parents into agreeing.

  First I took some rotten fish guts from the kitchen and mixed them with the chickens’ grain. Then I told Mum I’d had a vision that something awful would happen if Dad made me take Odius. She scattered some of the pongy grain, and the chickens backed away.

  Mum spent the rest of the day nagging Dad. He might be able to zone me out but he DEFINITELY can’t ignore her. Eventually he gave in and said I could take Linos.

  September V

  Lucius just came round to teach me about Egypt. His lessons are usually really boring, but this one was actually pretty good.

  Lucius says that the Egyptians are weird. They worship gods with animal heads, wrap their dead pharaohs in bandages and dump them in massive triangular buildings called pyramids.

  Special Egyptian and Roman words are explained at the back.

  Oh, and they draw pictures, called hieroglyphs, instead of writing words.

  Actually, I don’t see what’s so unusual about that last one. Cornelius often writes about me using pictures.

  Unlike Cornelius, Lucius actually admitted to being jealous of my trip. He says Alexandria, the city we’re going to, is an absolutely brilliant place.

  They’ve got a lighthouse there that’s three times as big as the tallest aqueduct in Rome, and there’s a library filled with massive piles of scrolls, including EVERY SINGLE ONE ever written in Greek.

  I’m glad Lucius has never been there. His lessons go on long enough as it is. If he knew everything in the world he’d never shut up.

  September VI

  I just handed my packing list to Linos:

  * Blank scrolls (for my diary)

  * Pen

  * Ink

  * Spare tunic

  * Latrones board and pieces

  * Emergency snack stash of dormice in honey.

  The only thing Linos is bringing is his bucket. He doesn’t even own a spare tunic. If his normal one gets dirty, he just chucks it in the bucket and wees on it. He used to work in a laundry where they washed all the clothes in wee to make them whiter. GROSS!

  Must try and get some sleep now. A couple of Caesar’s soldiers are arriving before dawn to take us on horseback down to the port at Ostia.

  September VII

  I have just watched the world’s greatest city fade out of sight across the sea. Goodbye Rome! Goodbye friends and family! GOOD RIDDANCE Cornelius!

  We arrived at the port as the sun was rising, and Caesar’s soldie
rs led us on to the ship.

  The deck was as long as my house and garden combined. There was a large wooden tower near the front, and a hatch leading down to another level where a line of oars were sticking out. Loads of soldiers marched on board after us. Some climbed down through the hatch to row.

  Caesar arrived and climbed up the tower. He was wearing his armour and the laurel wreath he uses to disguise his baldness. At least, he thinks it disguises his baldness. It actually makes him look like a baldy with leaves on his head. But he’s so powerful, no one dares tell him.

  A drum sounded and the oars began to beat the water. We were OFF!

  Soon a breeze picked up and the soldiers raised a huge, white sail. It was good news for the rowers down below, but bad news for Caesar. He stared ahead with one hand clamping his wreath down.

  Right now I’m lying on the deck and soaking up the sun. Life at sea has been pretty sweet so far.

  September VIII

  GAAH! Things have taken a turn for the worse.

  I can barely focus on my scroll to write this. Last night I scoffed a couple of honey dormice and went to sleep. I woke up to find the deck swaying violently beneath me.

  At first I thought Cornelius had been telling the truth, and we were under attack from monstrous gullibles. But when I looked around, everyone else was wandering about like nothing was happening.

  ‘What’s going on?’ I shouted at one of the soldiers.

  ‘Sea’s a bit choppy,’ he said. ‘But I’ve seen far worse.’

  How could anything POSSIBLY be worse than this?

  ‘You’ll be fine once you get your sea legs,’ the soldier said.

  I put this to the test by trying to walk around. My stomach felt as if it was climbing out of my mouth. I tried to stop myself from puking, but it didn’t work. I spewed all over the deck.

  A huge cheer rang out. All around me, soldiers pointed and laughed. I could feel myself blushing, it was SO embarrassing.

  Why hadn’t someone told me this would happen? And what a waste of those precious dormice.

  On the positive side, Linos is an excellent sick-mopper. He ran over with a big smile on his face, and cleared the whole thing up in no time.

  Thank the gods I didn’t have to rely on lazy old Odius to get rid of my puke. By the time he got round to clearing it up, it would have developed into an intelligent life form.

  September IX

  The weather was just as bad today. I was so determined to get my sea legs that I forced myself to ignore my queasy stomach and spinning head and went on deck.

  Caesar spotted me and summoned me up the tower. I tried to climb the ladder, but I kept missing my step and falling down. It’s not easy to climb rungs that are swaying beneath you.

  By the time I got to the top, I felt dizzier than the time Cornelius rolled me down a hill in a barrel.

  I tried to salute Caesar, but ended up whacking myself in the eye.

  Caesar grabbed my shoulders, thrust me to the front of the platform and called the soldiers over.

  ‘You might be wondering why this child is with us,’ said Caesar. ‘Well, let me tell you. Dorkius Maximus here is no ordinary child. He’s a hero of Rome. He will befriend the pharaoh, Ptolemy, and convince him to repay the debt Egypt owes to Rome.’

  The soldiers clapped.

  Caesar nodded at me. I think I was supposed to say something. For once I ACTUALLY had an audience to practise my speaking skills on, but I was so ill I couldn’t speak. I opened my mouth, but felt the sick rising again.

  I turned around, hoping to get to the ladder in time, but I didn’t manage it. I spewed all over the most powerful man in the world. GROSS!

  As he cried out and leapt back, his laurel wreath flew up in the air. His thin hair flapped up and down in the breeze.

  It could have been worse, I suppose. For a start, Caesar was wearing armour rather than a toga, so it was easy for Linos to wipe the sick off. And one of the soldiers managed to grab Caesar’s wreath before it flew overboard. But still, the SHAME.

  September X

  This afternoon, I spotted a great opportunity to make it up to Caesar. One of the soldiers announced that a rower was ill, and they needed someone to take his place.

  This was ideal. Caesar would forget all about the sick if I proved my worth as a rower.

  I dashed down the hatch. Rows of sweaty soldiers were pulling oars back and forth in perfect time. A bench on the right was empty, so I grabbed the spare oar.

  It was UNBELIEVABLY heavy. Just picking it up made my arms shake. But I told myself that a noble Roman hero keeps on going, however tough things get.

  I shoved the oar forwards, trying to keep pace with the other rowers. But I was too slow and I clashed into the rower in front of me. I pulled back and I smashed into the rower behind.

  I turned to apologize, but forgot I was holding the oar. It smacked into the oar of the rower in front of me, and soon every single rower on my side came to a stop. The rowers on the other side carried on, which made the ship veer over to one side.

  I could hear Caesar bolting down the ladder. ‘What’s going on? Why are we changing course?’

  I tried to hide under the bench, but he spotted me.

  ‘YOU!’ he shouted. ‘I might have known it would be you.’

  September XI

  Caesar has ordered me to stay in the middle of the deck at all times. I’m glad I brought my Latrones set. I’d be so bored without it.

  Latrones is a great game. You have to pretend your pieces are tiny soldiers and try to capture all the other pieces. I’m absolutely FANTASTIC at it. Or at least I thought I was until I played against Linos.

  I don’t understand it. My Dad was a general, my brother’s in the army, and I’m destined to be a noble hero. Linos, on the other hand, comes from a long line of slaves, whose greatest achievements are getting stubborn stains out of tunics. So why does he always win?

  Maybe he’s cheating. I’ll keep a closer eye on him next time.

  September XIV

  I can just about make out the flame of the lighthouse in the distance, which means we’ll be in Alexandria soon.

  I can’t believe that’s really Egypt ahead of us. I can’t see much, but it’s still exciting.

  My view of Egypt so far

  September XV

  Lucius wasn’t lying when he told me the lighthouse would be big. It’s MASSIVE, and it loomed above us as we sailed into the harbour.

  Ahead, I could see the sails of ships flapping in the breeze, and to my left I could see the high white walls of the palace.

  It was all very impressive, and a little confusing. All my life I’ve been told that Rome is the most civilized place in the world and that everywhere else is full of smelly barbarians rolling around in mud. Yet this is the most awesome place I’ve ever seen.

  I turned to Linos, who was standing next to me on the deck.

  ‘Isn’t it amazing?’ I gasped.

  ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I think they must use it for fertilizer.’

  ???????

  I looked at Linos in confusion. Instead of looking up at the lighthouse, which was pretty much the most BRILLIANT thing EVER, Linos was peering at a boy in the harbour who was shovelling horse dung into a bag.

  The ship pulled up to a jetty and our soldiers clambered off. They stood in two neat rows and held up their shields, forming a pathway for Caesar to walk down.

  I tried to follow, but I found it really odd being back on land after so long at sea. I couldn’t stop myself veering from side to side as if the jetty was swaying beneath me. I lurched left, banging into one of the soldiers, and then to the right. I was about to bump into another, but he stepped aside, sending me plunging straight into the sea. Not brilliant AT ALL.

  As I waded back to the shore, I got my first look at the people of Alexandria. They were all different. Some had dark skin, some had light brown skin and some had pale skin like me. But they all had one thing in common – they were all pointing a
t me and laughing.

  My cheeks went bright red as I shoved through the crowd. WHY does my body always have to make things worse for me?

  Caesar was standing at the gates of a palace, greeting a group of men who were wearing long red robes, triangular black wigs and thick almond shapes drawn around their eyes.

  I would say that they looked a bit weird, but I was covered in seaweed, so I could hardly talk.

  September XVI

  I haven’t seen Ptolemy, yet. Caesar wants to negotiate with him on his own first. I hope the pharaoh doesn’t give in straight away, or I’ll have to go home without showing off my public-speaking skills.

  Ptolemy’s palace is seriously MASSIVE. You can walk for ages through dim rooms that stink of burning incense, banqueting halls with painted walls and gardens filled with lush flowers before you reach an outer wall.

  The room Linos and I are sleeping in has a huge painting of a god called Anubis. He has a dog’s head and a man’s body. What a strange god to worship. I’m sure he’s great at answering your prayers, as long as you want a stick fetching or a cat chasing away.

  I guess I’d better not be too rude about him. I wouldn’t want him to come down and punish me or anything.

  September XVII

  I was supposed to wait in the palace today in case Caesar called me, but I couldn’t resist going for a stroll.

  I found myself on a wide, crowded street lined with market stalls. People were pushing and shoving me in all directions. Honestly, these Egyptians are SO rude. I stepped into the road to avoid them, but ended up right in the path of an oncoming chariot. The horses thundered towards me at FULL speed.