The Golden Acorn - Catherine Cooper [84]
‘I can do that from the veranda. if I see anything I’ll do the raven-owl call.’
‘Well just be careful, don’t go getting caught,’ Jack whispered before he dashed over to the door.
He stepped inside a neat, tidy room with rows of identical beds. He took a thin sheet off the first one and wrapped it around himself. There didn’t seem to be many places to look apart from the floor, which had been swept clean. At the far end of the room was another door; Jack made his way over to it. He cautiously pushed it open a fraction and peeped through the crack. It was full of equipment. There were helmets, shields, spears, several different kinds of armour, long and short swords, everything you could possibly need if you were a soldier in the Roman army. Jack wished he could have tried the helmets and armour on but there wasn’t time.
Underneath one of the windows he saw the soldiers’ packs. This was where he needed to search. Unfortunately they all looked the same now the equipment had been put away. The first three Jack looked in didn’t have anything other than rations inside. The sheet was getting in his way and kept slipping down his arms. He’d seen a pile of red tunics on a table and swapped the sheet for one of these. The tunic came down to his ankles but it was better than the sheet.
The next pack he searched was the one he was looking for. He nearly cried out with joy when he saw the missing cauldron plate. It was much heavier and thicker than the ones from the Prefect’s office. Camelin was right, it was tarnished and quite dirty. Embossed into the middle was an oak tree and there were holes down each side. He’d not be able to transform again while he had the plate; it would be far too heavy for him to lift in his beak. He’d have to stay like this and hope he wasn’t seen as he made his way back through the camp to the Prefect’s office.
Camelin was waiting by the door. Jack could see his beak was shiny with grease and presumed he’d rooted around in at least one of the frying pans.
‘Is this it?’
‘That’s the one,’ Camelin croaked and hopped around Jack to show how pleased he was.
‘We’d better get back to the Prefect’s office so we can see when he goes out again,’ said Jack impatiently. ‘The sooner I can get back in there the better.’
‘That tunic’s a bit bright.’
‘I know, but if I keep in the shadows I should be alright. I’ll swap it for the brown blanket when we get back to the offices.’
Camelin flew ahead to see if anyone was around. Jack followed as best he could, keeping close to the buildings to avoid being seen. At the same time he tried to pick out a route that didn’t involve stepping on the gravel. He was almost in the centre of the camp when something sharp prodded him in the back. He stopped and turned around. A soldier with a drawn sword shouted at him. Jack couldn’t understand what he said. Two more soldiers appeared. There was nothing else Jack could do but stand very still. It wasn’t long before Maximus came hurrying around the corner accompanied by two guards.
Maximus pointed and shouted loudly; Jack didn’t move. He realised the danger he was in. He’d stolen the tunic and the plate was in his hand. He’d not had time to do anything else with it. He couldn’t run and escape. There was a sword pointing at his chest and soldiers were appearing from everywhere; he was completely surrounded. The two guards next to Maximus each grabbed one of Jack’s arms, held him firmly and suspended him above the ground. He kicked out with his swinging legs but to no avail. The guards followed Maximus with their captive.
Once they were outside the Camp Prefect’s office Maximus snatched the plate from Jack and examined it closely. He shouted more orders to the soldiers before disappearing into his office.
The soldiers laughed as Jack struggled again. He wondered if Camelin could see or hear what was happening. Should he call out? Would the soldiers understand him if he spoke? He decided he ought to warn Camelin and summoned up his loudest voice.
‘Fly!’ he yelled. ‘I’m caught!’
The soldiers laughed