Diary of Dorkius Maximus in Egypt Read online

  I threw myself out of the way just in time. Unfortunately, I tripped and fell headfirst into a stall selling carved wooden cats, and sent it crashing to the ground.

  ‘You’ve ruined my merchandise!’ yelled the stall owner. ‘It’ll cost hundreds of drachmae to repair the damage!’

  What damage? I was far more damaged than those silly trinkets.

  I clambered to my feet and made a run for it. But as I reached the other side of the road, I slipped straight into a pile of steaming camel dung. GAAH!

  The camel in question turned round and snorted at me through massive nostrils. It obviously decided I hadn’t suffered enough, because it parted its disgusting, hairy lips and spat right in my face.

  Great to know that even the animals out here hate me.

  I told Linos about my ordeal when I got back.

  ‘That’s terrible,’ he said. ‘The collector could have used all that dung.’

  I knew he wouldn’t understand.

  September XVIII

  I heard Caesar’s voice booming out from one of the palace halls today.

  ‘WHAT is the meaning of this?’

  ‘His majesty merely wanted to give you a gift,’ a man replied. ‘It is a traditional cure for baldness. Rub it into your scalp and thick locks of hair will start to sprout.’

  ‘Why would I need such a thing?’ asked Caesar.

  ‘Because you’re a massive slaphead!’ shouted what sounded like a child.

  A few seconds later I saw Caesar storming across the courtyard, his face the colour of beetroot.

  It must have been Ptolemy’s voice. If anyone else had spoken to Caesar like that, their head would be on a spike by now.

  It’s a shame they’ve fallen out, but at least it means Caesar will have to send me in to negotiate soon. Time to get working on my speech ...

  UPDATE

  My speech is absolutely BRILLIANT! Ptolemy’s bound to give in and pay the debt.

  Finishing it put me in a really good mood, but then our evening meal was brought in and it tasted utterly DISGUSTING. There were these chewy brown fruits, and bits of flat bread that tasted like stones. Just as I guessed, foreign food is horrible.

  Thank the gods for my stash of dormice.

  September XIX

  This morning, I was chomping on a delicious honey dormouse, when a cat slunk into our room. It stared at me for a moment, pounced on my dormouse and dragged it down the corridor. I chased after it and had almost caught up with it, when one of Ptolemy’s advisors grabbed the back of my tunic and shook his finger at me.

  ‘Cats are sacred in our country,’ he said. ‘You mustn’t touch it.’

  Instead, I had to watch the gloating moggy picking at the dormouse while my stomach rumbled. When it had finished, the cat sauntered away and flicked its tail up at me. RUDE!

  I used to think Mum was nuts for keeping sacred chickens, but it actually seems kind of sensible now. At least the chickens don’t steal your food.

  September XX

  Caesar stormed into my room this morning with one of Ptolemy’s advisors.

  ‘It’s your turn to talk to that infuriating little squirt,’ shouted Caesar. His face was red and his laurel wreath was wonky. ‘DON’T let me down!’

  ‘I won’t, Caesar,’ I promised.

  Grabbing my speech, Linos and I followed the advisor through a series of walkways to a large hall. Its walls were covered with paintings of animal-headed gods and there was a golden throne at one end.

  Ptolemy was sitting on the throne, flanked by rows of advisors. He was wearing a wig and thick eye make-up.

  Pharaohs must be very sure of themselves. If I walked around Rome in a wig and make-up, I’d never hear the end of it.

  ‘Two children from Rome are here to see you,’ announced the advisor.

  Ptolemy folded his arms. ‘What do these bottom burps want?’

  ‘Caesar sent them,’ he said. ‘He thought you would prefer speaking to someone your own age.’

  ‘Old Baldy’s full of dumb ideas, isn’t he?’ scoffed Ptolemy.

  ‘Shall I send them away, my lord?’ asked the advisor.

  ‘Oh let them stay,’ said Ptolemy. ‘Anything’s better than Old Shiny-Dome gibbering on about cash.’

  The advisor cleared his throat and spoke. ‘Allow me to introduce King Ptolemy, Son of Ra, Lord of the Two Crowns, King of the Upper and Lower Regions.’

  ‘Hi. I’m Dorkius Maximus, future noble Roman hero. And this is Linos, collector of wee, mopper of sick.’

  Ptolemy rolled his eyes. ‘And what are you going to do for me? Sing? Dance? Fight to the death?’

  ‘Well actually, I’ve prepared a speech in honour of this great occasion,’ I said, as I unrolled my scroll and began to read.

  Ptolemy picked up a bowl of those disgusting fruits we had the other day and scoffed them as he listened to me.

  At the end of every section of my speech, I looked over at Linos, who smiled and clapped. I kept expecting Ptolemy to raise his hand to stop me, but he just slouched on his throne and gobbled the fruits.

  When I had finished, I rolled the scroll up and said, ‘And that is why I think you should repay the debt to Rome in full.’

  ‘Okay,’ said Ptolemy. ‘You can have your money back.’

  Linos applauded again, REALLY loudly.

  My heart was racing. Had I succeeded so quickly? I knew I was good at speeches, but was I THAT good?

  ‘There’s just one thing we need to do first,’ said Ptolemy, finishing the last fruit and tossing the bowl to one of his advisors. ‘To make the agreement official, you must kneel before me.’

  I stepped up to the throne and got down on my knees. I was glad Caesar wasn’t around to see this. But if it was going to get the agreement signed, it was worth it. Ptolemy clambered down from the throne and stood in front of me. Then for some reason he turned his back to me.

  Then Ptolemy commanded Linos to pull his finger. Linos pulled his finger, Ptolemy lifted up his robe and let off a loud, parping FART.

  A FOUL, fruity gas blasted up my nostrils and I collapsed on the floor, gasping for air. My vision blurred so much I could see two Ptolemys pointing and laughing at me.

  ‘So shall I tell Caesar we have an official agreement?’ I croaked.

  ‘No,’ said Ptolemy. ‘I’ve changed my mind.’

  September XXI

  One of the advisors came to our room this afternoon and said, ‘Good news! Our honoured pharaoh wants to see you again.’ Not MY idea of good news.

  My throat tightened as I remembered yesterday’s vile honk. But I could hardly refuse. My mission was to befriend Ptolemy. I’d just have to take the fumes for Rome.

  As we walked towards the throne room, Linos said, ‘If he makes you do that agreement thing again, I don’t mind taking your place.’

  ‘That’s very noble of you, but it’s my duty.’

  Inside the throne room, an artist was completing a new picture on the far wall.

  Ptolemy was watching and nodding.

  He stepped aside. ‘What do you think, Dorkius?’

  ‘I don’t like it,’ I said. ‘And I don’t think Caesar will either.’

  ‘Really? I reckon Caesar will like this one even less.’ And Ptolemy pointed to a painting further along the wall.

  I decided to rise above his immature sense of humour. ‘Have you thought any more about our debt?’ I asked.

  ‘Yes,’ said Ptolemy. ‘I’ve decided Caesar can stick his demands and piddle off home. You Romans think you can swan about invading countries and bullying everyone. Well it won’t work with us. Egyptians have been around longer than Romans, and we won’t be pushed around. Oh and anyway, I’m a living god, so everything I say is true.’

  Right. It was time to put my negotiation skills to the test.

  ‘Can we at least have half the money back?’ I asked.

  Ptolemy held up a metal hook. ‘Do you know what this is?’ I shook my head.

  ‘It’s a hook
for scooping people’s brains out through their nostrils. We usually wait until someone’s dead to use it. But if you mention the debt again, I’ll make an exception for you. Understand?’

  GAAH! ‘Yes,’ I squeaked.

  ‘Good. Now, the reason I called you here today was to play a game. Do you know how to play ‘Stupid Smelly Romans Say “No”?’

  ‘No,’ I whispered and Ptolemy howled with laughter and his advisors applauded.

  ‘Excellent joke, your majesty,’ said one of them.

  Oh yes, how very HILARIOUS.

  ‘Just kidding,’ said Ptolemy. ‘We’re going to play a game called Senet.’

  One of Ptolemy’s advisors arranged black and white pieces on a long board and placed four wooden sticks next to it. I didn’t have a CLUE what I was supposed to do.

  Ptolemy threw the sticks and then moved one of the white pieces across the grid. He looked at me, so I threw the sticks and moved one of the black pieces. We repeated this until he waved his hands in the air and said, ‘I win! Let’s play again.’

  I must have lost ten games. But then Linos leant over and started whispering suggestions in my ear. This time I didn’t lose.

  Ptolemy was fuming. He picked up the board and threw it to the floor, sending the pieces rolling in all directions. ‘You’re worse than my sister!’ he shouted. ‘You’re a smelly, cheating Roman pig. I wouldn’t even bother sacrificing you to the gods because they wouldn’t care, Pig Boy!’

  One of the advisors walked over to the pharaoh, but Ptolemy picked up a plate of brown fruit and launched them at his face.

  Somehow, I don’t think he’ll be adding that to his wall.

  September XXII

  I’ve just come up with a GENIUS plan for how to get the money back.

  1. We bring the Latrones set next time we’re called to see Ptolemy.

  II. We teach him how to play, letting him win every single time.

  III. I suggest we play a game to settle the debt. If I win, Ptolemy gives us the money back. If he wins, we drop the debt.

  IV. I win, using Linos’s excellent suggestions.

  V. Ptolemy hands the money over.

  VI. Caesar hails me as a noble Roman hero and we sail home.

  By the time I write my next entry, I expect all my problems will be over.

  September XXIII

  I am writing this from a small storeroom in the east of the palace. I can hear Ptolemy’s advisors scurrying around outside.

  About an hour ago, Caesar stomped past and shouted, ‘Where is that stupid Roman boy? Bring him to me!’

  Linos and I have decided to stay in here overnight. By morning, Caesar will have calmed down and we can apologize.

  What happened? Well, this afternoon we were summoned to see Ptolemy. We offered to teach him how to play Latrones. At first he dismissed it as ‘a game for Roman smellies’, but became much more interested when I explained that the game was a test of military intelligence.

  ‘I’ve got an army and will be fighting real wars soon,’ he boasted. ‘If this game is really a test of tactics, you’ll be crushed.’

  I talked Ptolemy through the rules and we started to play. Just as I’d planned, I let him win every time.

  ‘This is a fantastic game!’ he shouted. ‘In a real war I would surround my enemy like this. They’d have no chance. GENIUS!’

  ‘Hold on! I’ve got an idea,’ I said, trying to sound casual. ‘Why don’t we settle the debt with a game? If I win, you give us our money back. If you win, we forget about the debt and go home.’

  Ptolemy shrugged. ‘Yeah, why not?’

  I couldn’t BELIEVE it. He was falling right into my trap.

  I set the pieces up, and let Ptolemy go first. I looked down at the board while Linos whispered a suggestion into my ear.

  ‘Hey!’ cried Ptolemy. ‘I didn’t agree to play against a team. Tell Mr Smelly Tunic to stand on the other side of the room.’

  Linos walked away and I turned back to the board. My pulse was racing. I told myself I could still do it, but EVERYTHING I thought of seemed wrong. Ptolemy had disrupted my plan. Could I still beat him?

  I wiped the sweat from my forehead and moved one of the pieces. Ptolemy swiped it off the board and smirked. There was a round of applause from his advisors.

  I took a deep breath and moved another piece forward. Ptolemy moved one of his and snatched mine away.

  Soon all my pieces were gone.

  ‘I win!’ shouted Ptolemy. ‘And that’s why I’m a pharaoh and you’re a smelly little peasant whose only friend is a sick-mopper.’

  One of the advisors approached me, unfurling with a flourish a scroll with an agreement written on it.

  ‘Go on,’ said Ptolemy. ‘Sign it.’

  ‘Best of three?’ I whispered.

  The advisor drew a small curved knife from his belt.

  ‘Okay,’ I gulped and scribbled my signature with a stylus.

  ‘Send for Caesar,’ shouted Ptolemy. ‘I can’t wait for him to see this.’

  That’s when I decided it might be a good idea to come and hide in the storeroom.

  September XXIV

  We snuck out of the storeroom before dawn.

  When we got back to our room, a man with dark skin and white robes was waiting there. I thought he might have been sent to kill me, so I backed away.

  ‘I won’t harm you,’ he reassured me. ‘My name is Suti. I heard about what happened yesterday and I want to ask you a question. What do you make of the pharaoh?’

  I peered into the dark, trying to work out if the man had a sword.

  ‘I think he’s ... got a strong personality,’ I muttered. ‘He’s a real ... character.’

  ‘I HATE him,’ said Suti. ‘And the sooner we yank his brains out through his nose and mummify him the better.’

  I could just about make out the man’s black eyes in the gloom. It didn’t LOOK like he was trying to trick me.

  ‘Yes, I suppose he is a bit annoying,’ I said. ‘Now that you mention it.’

  ‘He’s a spiteful little snake,’ said Suti. ‘He’ll never give back your money. But he might cut off the grain supply to Rome. Have you any idea how serious that’d be for Caesar?’

  ‘What can I do about it?’ I asked.

  ‘Come on a mission with me,’ he said. ‘It will take a couple of days, but it will solve all our problems.’

  THE CONS:

  I didn’t know ANYTHING about this man or where we were going.

  THE PROS:

  A mission would get me away from Caesar for a while, which is probably for the best.

  ‘Alright,’ I said. ‘Why not?’

  Suti led us to the East Gate. I thought I heard footsteps behind us, but when I looked, no one was there.

  ‘Hurry!’ shouted Suti. ‘Hop on.’ He pointed to some smelly camels kneeling down outside the gate. Brilliant. If he’d said I’d have to ride one of those flea-bitten monsters, I’d never have gone with him.

  As I tried to clamber on to one camel, it bolted up, turned round and let out a deep growl. Why do these creatures hate me? Do they meet up in secret to discuss their plans to humiliate me?

  Linos walked over to the camel and stroked its head. It shut up and kneeled down again. I climbed on carefully and sat behind its back hump.

  The camel got up and wandered off, lurching from side to side with a sickening sway. BLEURGH. It was like being back on the ship again.

  I closed my eyes to stop myself from feeling sick. By the time I opened them, we were in the middle of harsh, yellow desert. On the far horizon, I spotted some of those triangular tombs Lucius had mentioned.

  ‘Can we stop to have a look at the pyramids?’ I shouted to Suti.

  ‘I’m afraid not,’ he said. ‘Our mission is too urgent. And they’re much further away than they seem.’

  ‘Oh well, at least we got to see them,’ I muttered, and looked at Linos. He shrugged. I could tell the pyramids weren’t up there with the dung collector fo
r him.

  We stopped for a break in the middle of the afternoon, and Suti handed us leather flasks full of water. I was so hot I wanted to drink the whole thing, but he reminded me I had to make it last.

  ‘So what’s this mission all about?’ I asked.

  ‘We’re going to meet the most beautiful woman in the world,’ said Suti.

  BORING! I thought we were on a heroic quest. I didn’t realize Suti was taking us to see his girlfriend.

  ‘She’s Ptolemy’s sister, to be exact,’ said Suti. ‘Her name is Cleopatra.’

  ‘And how’s she going to help us?’ I asked.

  ‘We’ll bring her back to the palace,’ he said. ‘Caesar will fall in love with her. He’ll agree she’s the rightful ruler of Egypt and help us to boot Ptolemy out. We’ll get rid of the little brat, and you’ll make it up to Caesar.’

  ‘Why are you so sure Caesar will fall in love?’ I asked.

  ‘Because any man would fall in love with Queen Cleopatra,’ said Suti. ‘She wears the finest cloth and the brightest jewels. Rich perfume fills the air around her. Her voice is gentle, beautiful music. Her skin is as soft as flowers because she bathes in the milk of asses.’