‘Congratulations. You just travelled to 1350 BC . The test proves that you could travel there in real time – although, of course, the actual journey would not be so pleasant. You have an uncommon talent, Jake.’
At this point Oceane Noire had heard enough. ‘I must go and feed Josephine, she’ll be starving,’she announced, and flounced out of the room, bumping into Jake with her panniers again. No one paid her any attention.
‘1350 BC? ’ Jake murmured. ‘That’s . . . over two thousand years ago.’
‘Three thousand, one hundred and seventy to be precise. Apart from Rose, all anyone else could make out was vague shapes.’
‘And who was the lady at the end?’ Jake asked. ‘Was she real?’
‘She was real once. I had the dubious pleasure of meeting her. She was charming, but as dangerous as a pit of vipers.’
‘Cleopatra?’ Jake asked excitedly. In truth she was the only famous Egyptian he knew.
‘Dear me, no, not that troublemaker.’ Galliana shook her head. ‘And way before her time. It was Nefertiti.’
Jake took a deep breath. He drew himself up as tall as possible and affected his deepest, most grownup voice. ‘So does this mean I can go on the assignment with Rose?’
Galliana looked round at Miriam. For a moment there was silence, then Jake’s mum shrugged and resigned herself to fate. She knew that, try as shemight, she could not prevent her son becoming a History Keeper. ‘It was the same with Philip,’ she said quietly. ‘The power was simply too strong.’
In less than an hour Jake and Rose were being fitted for their Roman outfits in the costumiery – Jake by Signor Gondolfino himself. He’d already been given a white tunic and sandals similar to the ones Charlie had worn, and now the tailor was carefully adjusting his brilliant-white toga.
Gondolfino was chatting to him: ‘I’m dressing you as a young nobleman, the handsome son of a senator or some such. I’ve said it before, I will say it again’ – his old eyes twinkled – ‘ bel viso , such a face for history.’ He fastened the toga in place with a gold pin and smoothed it down. ‘Now, you’ll need a sword of some description.’ He was about to step over to a table where an assortment of Roman arms were laid out when Jake stopped him.
‘Can I wear this one?’ he asked hopefully, holding up the weapon Nathan had given him.
Gondolfino adjusted his eyeglass and examined the silver hilt in the shape of a dragon. ‘Well, it’s not strictly speaking the right period’ – he shook his head – ‘but it has some of the characteristics of the gladius hispanus . . . perhaps we could just about get away with it.’
Jake excitedly fixed it to his belt.
‘ Molto galante – very gallant!’ Gondolfino nodded, motioning for Jake to admire himself in the mirror. He looked at his reflection: a proud young Roman stood staring back at him.
On the next level up, Rose was being fitted with a dress, a Roman stola , by one of the other costumiers – a tall, haughty man in a checked jacket and breeches. Her hair had already been piled high up onto her head and studded with jewels. Once the costumier had secured a band around her waist he stood back to admire his creation. The dress made the most of Rose’s curvaceous figure.
‘Somewhat on the voluptuous side, wouldn’t you say?’ she chuckled as she mischievously slipped a leg through the split at the front of the dress and adopted an alluring pose.
‘I think it’s pleated perfection,’ the costumier swooned, clasping his neck dramatically.
When they were finished, Jake and Rose quickly went down to the armoury. Dr Chatterju had asked them to pass by on their way to the harbour; he and Amrit were waiting next to the shooting gallery.
The doctor called them over to look at something in his hand. ‘I have this for you to take to Sicily. It’s the prototype hoisting device designed by Agent Nathan Wylder. He’s been nagging me about it for months, so
At this point Oceane Noire had heard enough. ‘I must go and feed Josephine, she’ll be starving,’she announced, and flounced out of the room, bumping into Jake with her panniers again. No one paid her any attention.
‘1350 BC? ’ Jake murmured. ‘That’s . . . over two thousand years ago.’
‘Three thousand, one hundred and seventy to be precise. Apart from Rose, all anyone else could make out was vague shapes.’
‘And who was the lady at the end?’ Jake asked. ‘Was she real?’
‘She was real once. I had the dubious pleasure of meeting her. She was charming, but as dangerous as a pit of vipers.’
‘Cleopatra?’ Jake asked excitedly. In truth she was the only famous Egyptian he knew.
‘Dear me, no, not that troublemaker.’ Galliana shook her head. ‘And way before her time. It was Nefertiti.’
Jake took a deep breath. He drew himself up as tall as possible and affected his deepest, most grownup voice. ‘So does this mean I can go on the assignment with Rose?’
Galliana looked round at Miriam. For a moment there was silence, then Jake’s mum shrugged and resigned herself to fate. She knew that, try as shemight, she could not prevent her son becoming a History Keeper. ‘It was the same with Philip,’ she said quietly. ‘The power was simply too strong.’
In less than an hour Jake and Rose were being fitted for their Roman outfits in the costumiery – Jake by Signor Gondolfino himself. He’d already been given a white tunic and sandals similar to the ones Charlie had worn, and now the tailor was carefully adjusting his brilliant-white toga.
Gondolfino was chatting to him: ‘I’m dressing you as a young nobleman, the handsome son of a senator or some such. I’ve said it before, I will say it again’ – his old eyes twinkled – ‘ bel viso , such a face for history.’ He fastened the toga in place with a gold pin and smoothed it down. ‘Now, you’ll need a sword of some description.’ He was about to step over to a table where an assortment of Roman arms were laid out when Jake stopped him.
‘Can I wear this one?’ he asked hopefully, holding up the weapon Nathan had given him.
Gondolfino adjusted his eyeglass and examined the silver hilt in the shape of a dragon. ‘Well, it’s not strictly speaking the right period’ – he shook his head – ‘but it has some of the characteristics of the gladius hispanus . . . perhaps we could just about get away with it.’
Jake excitedly fixed it to his belt.
‘ Molto galante – very gallant!’ Gondolfino nodded, motioning for Jake to admire himself in the mirror. He looked at his reflection: a proud young Roman stood staring back at him.
On the next level up, Rose was being fitted with a dress, a Roman stola , by one of the other costumiers – a tall, haughty man in a checked jacket and breeches. Her hair had already been piled high up onto her head and studded with jewels. Once the costumier had secured a band around her waist he stood back to admire his creation. The dress made the most of Rose’s curvaceous figure.
‘Somewhat on the voluptuous side, wouldn’t you say?’ she chuckled as she mischievously slipped a leg through the split at the front of the dress and adopted an alluring pose.
‘I think it’s pleated perfection,’ the costumier swooned, clasping his neck dramatically.
When they were finished, Jake and Rose quickly went down to the armoury. Dr Chatterju had asked them to pass by on their way to the harbour; he and Amrit were waiting next to the shooting gallery.
The doctor called them over to look at something in his hand. ‘I have this for you to take to Sicily. It’s the prototype hoisting device designed by Agent Nathan Wylder. He’s been nagging me about it for months, so
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