When in Rome, Stay Away from Pointy Sticks
by Jane Brown
It was a time of gladiators, tunics, and sandal-boots.
It was also a time when the Roman Empire was commanded by a slightly-obsessed-with-goats little girl called Priscilla.
No one could quite remember how a ten-year-old girl had ended up as the Empress but all agreed she was the most fearsome leader they had ever seen.
And right this minute, the fearsome leader stands beaming at a map resplendent in a sea of red, depicting all the lands claimed by the Roman Empire under her reign.
But then, she frowns and points to a grey blob on the top right. “Why does this not belong to Rome?”
All the centurions standing around the table glance anxiously at each other.
“Well?” Priscilla raises her eyebrows and stamps her foot. “I demand an answer NOW!”
A brave centurion mumbles something.
“What? Speak louder, you idiot!”
“That’s the Glamorous Land, Your Empress.”
Priscilla claps her hands. “Ooh that sounds like a lovely place. I demand we conquer it at once.”
The centurions gasp but then steady themselves. One clears his throat and says, “We will prepare the battle plans at once.”
Priscilla nods.
Another brave centurion speaks, “However, Empress, we must warn you to prepare for more soldier losses than usual.”
Priscilla taps her fingernails on the table. “And why? I hardly think a Glamorous Land will pose much of a threat. Unless they blind you all with their beauty.” She throws back her head and laughs.
“But Your Empress, the Glamourous Land is where all the wizards and witches reside.”
Priscilla’s eyes widen. Her lips form the shape of an O, then slowly spread upwards into a wicked grin. “This is bellissimo! When we conquer this land, there will be no doubt whatsoever that the Roman Empire is the numero uno of the modern world.”
The centurions glance around, each oddly relieved that everyone else looks just as terrified as they feel.
#
One month later
Rocco stands knee deep in the creek, snipping strands of long grass for his latest invention—a rope bridge—when the village alarm sounds. He immediately drops his haul and hustles to the bank. Damn. Where did I put that stupid wand this time? He finds it under a toadstool, then herds his goats together and sprints to the village center.
Living in Magia, the village closest to the border of the Glamourous Land, had always been a lucky thing to Rocco, for being perched on the cliff edge blessed it with views no other villages in their land had. Plus, it was undoubtedly the pearl of the kingdom, with its spectacular array of castles. However, right now it was a curse. Because all of the citizens had to undertake a new duty: repel that annoying red and gold army that kept thinking it could actually claim their land.
When Rocco arrives in the town center, all villagers are already standing around the ever-flowing fountain, listening to the chief’s speech. “Yes, I’m afraid that annoying red and gold army is back again. We’ve tried the ‘nice and friendly’ approach, asking them politely to leave but then they did this—” He points at a massive hole in his hut. “I believe they call it a catapult. Anyway, enough is enough. Time to have some fun with them.”
Shouts of ‘Huzzah’ and ‘Let’s do it’ echo all around.
Someone yells, “Let’s turn them into frogs!”
The chief pauses, considers, and then gives the thumbs up. “I like it.”
A cheer erupts.
“I trust you all recharged your wands this noon?”
“Of course, Chief, only an idiot would forget that.”
Rocco looks down at his wand. His pale wand. Oh, no. He’d been so distracted today down at the creek, he’d forgotten to put his wand in the charging dock during the magical moments in the middle of the day when the sunlight is strongest. A wand without its daily noon sunshine would not be able to perform any spells.
All villagers take their positions at the parapet, wands raised.
The chief watches the army advance below and says, “On my signal!”
Rocco’s best friend Matti notices Rocco’s hands trembling. He whispers, “You okay?”
Rocco shakes his head.
Matti stares at Rocco’s wand. “Oh, Rocco! Not again. I hope the chief doesn’t notice.”
“Now!” the chief shouts.
All wizards and witches point their wands down below at the advancing army. They whoop and holler as the soldiers transform into tiny green hopping creatures. There is a conspicuous gap below Rocco where many soldiers remain unchanged. Rocco anxiously turns around, trying to find a non-magical solution. He elbows Matti. “Help me with this pot.”
The black pot stands bubbling over a roaring fire. It’s filled with water to provide tea and brews for the villagers assigned sentry duty.
Matti and Rocco lift the pot and pour the boiling contents over the advancing soldiers below. There are cries of anguish and the red and gold army (most of them now frogs) turn and run-hop away.
“Well done, Rocco,” the chief says. “What a clever idea.”
Rocco nods, relieved his wand mistake remains unnoticed.
He then sits and observes the villagers as they return to their everyday tasks.
He watches spells cast to make buckets fly to the fountain, fill themselves up and then return to their owner’s huts. He watches wands flick to ignite fires, and a chopped tree get magically transformed into logs for a fireplace. He groans.
“What’s wrong, Rocco?” Matti sits beside him.
“Our magic is a gift, no doubt about it. But we use it too much, we have forgotten how to do things ourselves.”
Matti laughs. “You and your silly notions. Magic lets us do things we could not do otherwise.” He points to a witch flying from one high tower to another.
Rocco thinks back to the long grass from the creek this morning and his plans for a rope bridge. “There are other ways. It is dangerous to be so reliant on magic. What would we do if we all lost our abilities one day?”
Matti squints and pats him on the shoulder. “That would never happen, Rocco. Our land is blessed with constant noon sunshine. Our wands will always be our saviors.”
#
One month later.
“They’ve all been turned to WHAT?” Priscilla’s nostril hair flares. She sighs and brushes her favourite toy goat’s hair.
“Should we concede, Your Empress?”
“Concede? CONCEDE? Oh, why are you the most incompetent army in the world? The Roman Empire never concedes! Take a new army and march back there right away (I don’t care that it takes you one month to get there) and conquer that land!”
#
One year later
The villagers chat excitedly as they wonder over to the charging station next to the ever-flowing fountain. They carefully place their wands upright in the holes built into the circular metal dish. Even Rocco has remembered on this day. A miracle indeed.
“This is going to be great.”
“Can’t wait to watch the Red and Gold idiots fail AGAIN! What is this, their fifth attempt? Or sixth?”
But all fall quiet as an unexpected eerie darkness descends upon the village.
The chief shouts, “What is this madness? It is but mid-noon, not the eve yet!”
The villagers stand speechless, frozen to the spot.
One brave wizard dares to look directly into the spot where the sun was last seen. “The Sun is gone. All I see is a black circle.” He yelps in pain. “And now my eyes burn. And now all I can see is black. Everything is black.”
“Our magnificent Sun has vanished!” another villager shouts. “The end of the world is surely nigh!”
The villagers rush around screaming and holding their heads until miraculously, the darkness becomes lightness again and the world appears again as it should.
“Hooray! The end of the world is not this day.”
Amongst all the jubilant embraces and celebrations, a loud sobbing can be heard. The chief stands forlornly at the charging station, gazing upon all the pale wands. “Alas, there will be no magic today. We have all missed the precious noon sunlight.”
And then, a familiar battle horn sounds.
A sentry calls down from the parapet, “The army approaches and will arrive this eve. And there is something else—”
All gasp.
“—the Empress herself is here this time. The Red and Gold people have built their own settlement, not far from us, with a high walled barricade surrounding it. The walls are decorated with pictures of goats.”
The villagers tilt their heads and look around at each other. “How was this development not noticed earlier?”
There is a long pause. “That is not important now,” the sentry replies. “What’s important is that we are all in BIG TROUBLE.”
The villagers despair. “We must pack our satchels and leave. There is no chance of victory without our magic.”
Rocco’s brain tingles. “Wait!” he cries out. “We must not give up. There is a way we can still defeat them, even without our wands.” He grins. “I have a plan.”
#
The army marches towards the cliff, shields covering their faces to avoid magic sparks.
“Halt!” the centurion commander screams.
The soldiers all stop and lower their shields.
A secret door carved into the cliff below the main castle has opened. All eyes watch as a figure emerges. It walks towards them, holding an olive branch with one arm extended.
The soldiers all murmur and scratch their heads while the centurion commander rides his horse to meet the figure halfway.
“Oh, hello there,” the figure says. “My name is Rocco and I represent the people of The Glamourous Land. We have heard that your Empress is enamored by goats, is that correct?”
“Uh, yes, that’s right,” the puzzled centurion replies.
“Very good. We have constructed a delightful present for her. We would be honored if you would deliver it to her so we may win her favor.”
The centurion raises his eyebrows.
Rocco turns back to the secret door and yells, “Wheel out the present!”
An incredibly large wooden goat on wheels emerges, pulled forward by ropes held by many men.
The centurion whistles. “Amazing. I have never seen anything so big. The Empress will be very impressed.” He calls for his soldiers to come and take over. Before long, the goat is well on its way to the Red and Gold settlement.
Rocco watches it disappear within the walls and whispers, “I really hope this works.”
#
Priscilla’s eyes sparkle as she gazes upon the wooden goat. “It is truly spectacular, is it not?”
All the soldiers agree.
“I do not have the heart to go into battle tonight. Let us wait until the morn, then we will use our secret weapon—the giant catapult—to finally claim this kingdom. And after that, I will command the Glamourous people to build more goats like this.”
As night falls, the Red and Gold army drift to sleep.
A tiny secret door under the wooden goat’s belly pops open and a little boy creeps out. He tiptoes to the guards standing sentry and knocks their heads, one-by-one, with his book of spells—the heaviest item in all the land. After every sentry is unconscious, he creeps to the front gate and opens it. All the wizards and witches sneak inside the settlement. When each has a sword pointed at a soldier’s neck, the Chief wizard rings a loud gong.
The soldiers startle awake and their eyes widen in surprise.
Rocco stands with his sword pressed to Priscilla’s neck. “Please believe us, Empress. We do not wish to harm any of you. But we do not want to become part of the Roman Empire. We will let you live if you promise to leave now and never return.”
Priscilla gazes around at all her soldiers. “We are the Roman Empire. We will never concede!”
Her soldiers all groan and look at her with pleading eyes.
But Priscilla is distracted by something. “Wait!” She plucks a strand of hair from Rocco’s cloak. “Young mage, is this…goat’s hair?”
“Why, yes,” Rocco says. “You have very good eyes, Empress.”
Her eyes light up. “My greatest desire, ever since I was a little child, is to see a real live goat. I have adored them, from the stories told by my nursemaids about a troll living under a bridge, to the pictures I’ve seen in many books.”
Rocco strokes his chin. “Hmmm. Actually, I might just have a new proposal for you. Perhaps you would you like to come and work for me? I could really use someone to watch over my herd so I have time to work on my inventions.”
Priscilla jumps up and down. “Oh, that would be absolutely marvelous.” Then her smile vanishes. “But I’m afraid I cannot leave the Roman Empire. It would fall apart without me.”
The centurions all exchange glances. “No, no, your Empress! We cannot take your happiness away from you. It will certainly be <cough> difficult without you but we will press on. Somehow.”
Priscilla beams. “So be it.”
And so it was that the Roman Empire left the Glamourous Land alone while their new leader (a man named Caesar Augustus) conquered many other lands, and a little girl called Priscilla found her true calling: caring for goats.
The Glamourous Land’s people all agreed that Rocco’s wooden goat proved that magic was not always the only way to accomplish something. And soon rope bridges sprouted amongst all the towers, and villagers sometimes even carried buckets of water themselves.
As for Rocco, his innate ability to innovate and create was passed down to his son, and his son’s son, and so on. In fact, one of Rocco Da Vinci’s descendants became renowned throughout the modern world for his own inventions.
But that is a story for another day.
END