“Yes! Oceanus and Hilarius. Both of you! Come with me.”
In the background, alternating chants were ringing from the crowd. They wouldn’t stop.
“Hilarius! Hilarius! Hilarius!”
“Oceanus! Oceanus! Oceanus!”
“Do you hear that?” asked Fred the Red as he walked them toward the gate again. “The citizens of Pompeii love you.”
“I guess they want us to take a bow,” David said to Luke. “Like, a curtain call.”
“You were both victorious,” Fred the Red said. “So now, of course, you must fight against each other.”
It took a moment for those words to sink in.
“Wait, what?” Luke asked. “But we’re friends. We can’t fight each other.”
“Do you hear that chanting?” asked Fred the Red. “You must prove which one is the ultimate champion. The citizens demand it.”
“No,” David told him firmly. “We’re friends. We don’t fight each other.”
The smile vanished from Fred the Red’s face.
“You are friends who will fight,” he insisted. “Or would you rather I send you out there with no weapons and simply release the lions? That would also be enjoyable to the crowd.”
David looked at Luke. Luke flashed him a wink and put his helmet on.
“Let’s go,” he said. “If they want a show, we’ll give ’em a show.”
David put his helmet on. Both boys were handed identical shields and long swords.
“May the better man win,” said Fred the Red as the gate was raised once again.
The guy with the megaphone quickly made an announcement.
“Citizens of Pompeii! And now . . . a special treat. The victors Oceanus and Hilarius will face each other in battle. A battle . . . to the death!”
A huge roar greeted Luke and David as they walked through the gate again.
“Oceanus! Oceanus! Oceanus!”
“Hilarius! Hilarius! Hilarius!”
The boys took a bow. The gate closed behind them.
“What do we do now?” David whispered as they walked slowly out to the middle of the arena. “What’s the plan?”
“The plan is we fake it,” Luke whispered back, “just like they do in pro wrestling. I beat you up for two minutes. Then you beat me up for two minutes. We fight to a draw, and they crown us. Then we figure out how to ditch this place before we run out of time.”
A hush fell over the crowd as the boys faced off against one another in the middle of the arena. They circled each other cautiously, and then Luke suddenly charged at David, swinging his sword wildly. David retreated as he fended off Luke’s weak blows with his shield.
“Good!” Luke said as he swung the sword low and David jumped over it. “You’re really selling it!”
His back almost against the wall, David then went on the attack. The sword felt good in his hand, so much better than that silly trident he had to use against the tiger. He was slashing it around the way he’d seen fencers do it in the movies, almost hitting Luke a few times by accident. Neither boy actually wanted to hurt the other one. They just wanted to put on a good show.
“Booooooo!”
The crowd wasn’t buying it. People started throwing stuff into the arena. These were sophisticated fans. They had been to enough competitions to know when a gladiator was trying his hardest and when he was just going through the motions.
Booooor-ring!
Luke and David stopped and turned around. Four big guards with spears had come out. They were marching toward the boys.
“Fight, slaves!” one of them instructed.
“We are fighting!” Luke replied.
“Fight with enthusiasm,” the guard said. “Your friendship is admirable. But the citizens demand your blood. And your blood will be spilled . . . one way or another.”
The guards surrounded the boys and raised their spears.
“Kill them both!” chanted the crowd. “Kill them both!”
“So, what’s Plan B?” David asked Luke.
While Luke was desperately trying to come up with another plan, the guards backed away. Somebody else had come out of the gate. It was the guy dressed as Mercury, the Roman god of war. He was carrying his red-hot poker.
“Oh no,” said Luke. “Not this guy again.”
“Are you going to fight?” Mercury asked when he reached the middle of the arena. “Or will you continue this little dance? What’s it gonna be, boys? Yes or no?”
Mercury thrust the glowing poker so it was just inches from Luke’s face.
Luke backed away. He looked at the guards surrounding him with spears, and then at the angry crowd. There was no way out. The timer was clicking down. He had run out of options. There was no Plan B. His optimism was gone. His shoulders sagged. He sighed.
“I think it’s all over for us, David,” he said sadly. “It’s finished.”
“What’s it gonna be?” asked Mercury.
“We will fight,” Luke replied. “For real.”
“You have made a wise decision,” said one of the guards.
The timer counted down: 17 minutes.
“So that’s it?” David asked, incredulous. “That’s your Plan B? We fight for real, until one of us is dead?”
“Look,” Luke told his friend. “There’s no way outta here. The mountain’s gonna blow any minute and we’re gonna die anyway. So we might as well go out in a blaze of glory, right? I know you’ve wondered which one of us would win in a fight. So have I. Well, let’s find out.”
David was stunned. He didn’t know if he would be capable of hurting Luke, who had become his best friend in the time they had been together. But he had learned something from Luke—there was one weapon that was incredibly powerful against any opponent—the element of surprise.
Instead of squaring off like two fighters usually do, David quickly swung his sword as hard as he could at Luke’s head before Luke could put his shield up.
Instinctively, Luke ducked, with David’s sword passing less than an inch from his nose.
The crowd roared in appreciation. Now they had a show to watch.
Luke reeled backward and fell to the dirt. When his right hand hit the ground, he lost the grip on his sword. It slid a few feet away. David pounced like a cat, taking a big roundhouse swing at Luke. Luke ducked and spun out of the way, moving
