17 The Circus on Saturn’s Day Saturday

17. THE CIRCUS ON SATURN'S DAY SATURDAY The next day was Saturn's day Saturday. For the first time in a week the wind dropped and the clouds cleared. It was a glorious day for a celebration, the sky a bright blue with not a breath of rain. From about ten o'clock in the morning Hiccup watched the stadium being prepared for the circus. The stands were hung with Roman flags. Tents and cushions were laid out in the Consul's seating area. Metal nets were set up across the top and insides of the amphitheatre to prevent the performing dragons from escaping or attacking the audience. The stands of the amphitheatre began to fill up with spectators, anxious to get a good view. They were mostly soldiers, cooks and carpenters, given the day off for the national holiday. They could buy food and wine within the amphitheatre to while away the hours, so, by early afternoon, when the performances began, the atmosphere was very lively, everybody singing songs and even dancing on the seats. At two o'clock exactly the trumpeters came out

on to the Consul's Pavilion, the luxury covered area which was draped with Roman flags and Imperial Standards. They blew an impressive fanfare, and everyone stood up and fell silent as the Consul's party entered the stadium. The Fat Consul came first,

waddling very slowly with a slave at each elbow and one to carry his stomach. He had to stop every couple of steps to catch his breath. He wasn't looking too good. The Fat Consul was covered from head to toe in ugly red rashes and eczema weals. Once the slaves had got him seated, they took it in turns to scratch different parts of his body with an instrument like a large fork, and this seemed to give him some relief, but judging from his restless wriggling and scratching he was still in considerable discomfort. He was eating a light snack of double reptoburger with tomato-and-dormouse relish and popdragons on the side. Alvin the Treacherous sat beside him in the Pavilion. In time to another trumpet fanfare two slaves brought in the Ceremonial Shield of the Legion, gorgeously decorated with a golden eagle carrying a fish. Alvin the Treacherous banged the Ceremonial Shield three times with his hook. 'I officially declare these Saturn's day Saturday Games OPEN,' shouted Alvin the Treacherous. 'Friends and fellow Romans… Watch our Circus and marvel at the glory of the Roman

Empire! Your entertainment this afternoon is called THE SURVIVAL OF THE FITTEST…' The audience clapped wildly. Three hundred beautiful doves, dyed every colour of the rainbow, were released into the arena. The doves fluttered through the stadium, cooing to each other. Suddenly, the barred gates opened and the coos of the doves turned to cries of alarm. To the cheers and catcalls of the audience, fifty little Sidewinder dragons came slithering through the dust into the arena, their greengage eyes glistening greedily. The Sidewinders were not large but they were vicious pack hunters. They were also chameleons. Every one of them was exactly the colour of the dust they were lying in. The doves desperately threw themselves against the metal nets covering the amphitheatre but there was no escape for them. The Sidewinders crept into the air like an army of cats stalking sparrows. As they rose up they gradually turned as pale blue as the sky above them, and the doves flew desperately hither and thither in confusion, until the leader of the Sidewinders gave the signal to attack.

Less than sixty seconds later the air was filled with blood and multi-coloured feathers and there was not a dove left alive in that stadium. The Sidewinders celebrated by turning the colour of the dove they had just eaten. They made a glorious multi-coloured sight, swooping and shrieking through the air in victory rolls, singing a song of praise and thanks for the meal they had been given. And then the barred gates opened again, the Song of the Sidewinders stopped abruptly and they instantly turned the colour of the sky again. Now it was they who were throwing themselves at the metal nets above them and finding they were trapped. For creeping into the arena came twenty heavily armoured black Flashfangs, their razor-sharp teeth glistening in the sunshine, their talons making slashing patterns in the dust. The audience laughed cruelly at the fear of the Sidewinders, who seconds ago were the hunters and had now become the prey. From his barred window high up in the Tower, Hiccup could watch no longer. He knew that a Sidewinder was no match for a Flashfang. He stepped away from the window with a heavy sigh. Toothless had taken one look at the Flashfangs

and was now hiding in Hiccup's shirt. The door of their prison cell opened with a crash. The First Kidnapper stepped in, followed by twenty heavily armed soldiers. 'Is the timings for your big day in the Circus,' beamed the First Kidnapper. 'Here goes…' said Camicazi grimly. 'Let us face certain death like HEROES.' 'It isn't certain death,' protested Hiccup. 'Don't forget my plan…' 'Would that be the plan where we get rescued at the last minute by a dragon the size of an amoeba?' asked Fishlegs. The soldiers led the boys down from the Tower, across several courtyards and then down many long flights of steps so slippery Hiccup fell and grazed his calf. The steps ended in an underground chamber, where a Viking boat was tethered on the ground. On one side of the boat was painted its name: The Valhalla Express. The chamber was beginning to fill with water– a dam in one of the chamber walls was open, and seawater was flooding in. 'Please to jump in,' grinned the First Kidnapper.