“Climb in, slaves!”
“Look, buddy, we’re not slaves,” Luke said, speaking quickly before he could be slapped or beaten. “You’ve got to listen to me. Mount Vesuvius is going to erupt in a little more than an hour. I know. Don’t ask me how. I just know. Instead of hassling us, you should be evacuating the whole town. It’s going to be buried under twenty feet of ash. Everybody’s going to die.”
The red-haired man let out a laugh.
“You would make a good storyteller, slave!” he said. “What is your name?”
“Luke.”
“I mean, what do they call you?”
“They call me Luke. That’s my name.”
“That is no kind of name,” said the red-haired man. “From now on, your name is Oceanus. I have named you in honor of the god of the waters.”
Next he turned to David.
“And what is the name they call you, slave?” he asked.
“My name is David.”
“From now on, your name is Hilarius.”
“What!” David exclaimed. “Hilarius?”
“That is what I said. You are Hilarius.”
“That’s a great name, dude,” said Luke. “I always thought you were Hilarius.”
“Why can’t you just call us by our regular names?” asked David.
“Do not question me, slave!” shouted the red-haired man. “Do you want fifty lashes?”
“Eyelashes?” asked David.
“No, idiot! A flogging!”
He took his whip and held it menacingly in front of David. Luke climbed into the wagon, with David right behind him.
“The top of the mountain is going to explode!” Luke shouted. “You’ve got to believe me!”
“Enough wild talk,” the red-haired man said as he calmly closed and locked the door. Then he climbed up on the horse and used his whip to urge it forward.
It was a bumpy, uncomfortable ride through the streets. There were no seats in the wagon, and no padding. The red-haired man, who the boys quickly nicknamed “Fred the Red,” guided it through an alleyway called Via di Nocera.
Out on the street, people were pointing and laughing at the wagon, as if they were watching animals in a zoo. A few spit at them.
“Where are you taking us?” David shouted at Fred the Red.
“You will find out in good time, Hilarius.”
“My name is David!”
Luke turned to look at the ragged man sitting next to him. His hair was messed up, and when he smiled it was obvious that most of his teeth were missing. He smelled bad.
“My name is Crustus,” the toothless man said, shaking hands with both of the boys. “I heard what you said about Vesuvius, and I believe you. Giants roam the land near the mountain. They make the ground move, and the giants are angry.”
“That guy is crazy,” David whispered in Luke’s ear.
“I’m not sure about that,” Luke whispered back. “Maybe everybody here thinks that way. They don’t have science. All they have is superstition.”
David leaned over toward Crustus.
“Are you a slave?” he asked.
“No. I am a criminal,” Crustus replied.
“What did you do?”
“I stole a man’s pig.”
“Why did you do that?” Luke asked.
“I was hungry.”
“What about you guys?” David said to the other prisoners. “Are you criminals too?” They nodded their heads.
“Arson,” one of them said.
“Banditry,” said another.
“Treason.”
“Refusal to pledge loyalty to the emperor.”
“Prisoner of war.”
Luke and David looked at each other, more confused than ever. Why had they been separated from the girls and thrown in with these guys? Maybe they were being taken to a dungeon just for men. Or maybe they were being taken to be executed.
“Are they going to kill us?” Luke asked Crustus.
“You could say that,” Crustus replied.
David sank back in his gloom, putting his hands over his eyes.
“Look on the bright side,” Luke told him. “We got out of that dungeon. Now we’ll have a chance to escape and save the girls.”
The wagon made its way toward the southeast edge of the town. David checked the timer. There were 85 minutes left. Still plenty of time to escape and get back to the meeting spot. The wagon turned a corner and the Pompeii amphitheater came into view.
It was by far the largest structure in town. The boys recognized it from their previous trip. It looked pretty much the same, except that above the top row flags were flying.
“Wow,” David marveled, looking up at the big building. “How do you think they built this place without machines and cranes and stuff?”
“Probably with slaves and condemned prisoners,” Luke replied. “Maybe that’s why we’re here. Maybe they’re going to make us work here.”
Outside the amphitheater, the wagon passed a line of statues of Roman gods and emperors on pedestals. It stopped there. People were waiting in a long line that snaked back and forth leading up to the entrance. The men, women, and children waiting in line looked excited to be there.
“Hey, maybe they’re taking us to see one of those gladiator shows,” David guessed.
“Oh, you’ll get to see a gladiator show all right,” Crustus told them. “You’ll have the best seat in the house.”
“Do you mean . . .”
It took a few moments, but finally the boys realized what was going on. They weren’t being taken on some field trip to be entertained at a gladiator show. They were going to be the gladiator show!
“Oh, shoot,” cursed Luke.
The wagon was wheeled around to the side of the amphitheater, where there was a large courtyard called the Palestra Grande. It was sort of like an open-air dressing room where the gladiators could train and practice while they were waiting for their battle to begin. Brick walls surrounded the area to prevent escape. Several grumpy guards stood in front of the gates with big swords and angry looks on their faces.
“We gotta get out of here, man,” Luke whispered to David. “These people are crazy. They’re gonna make us battle to the death. That’s what they did in the old days. I saw it in a movie.”
It was basically true. While all gladiators didn’t die fighting, a good many of them did.
“I have an idea,” David whispered to Luke. “They gotta give us swords or something to fight with, right? As soon as they hand us our
