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Authors: Terry Deary
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as some of the boys’ fathers.
Some young men from the real Olympics were there. Their muscles were shiny and as hard as brass, and they strutted like cockerels to their seats by the finish line – the best seats.
There were no women there, of course … I was dressed in Cypselis’s tunic and my short hair felt odd.
Big Bacchiad looked at me. “Hello, Cypselis,” he sneered. His fat face was bulging as he chewed on some leaves. I hadn’t eaten breakfast. We had no goat, no food.
Big Bacchiad didn’t suspect a thing. My twin brother wore a hood so no one would see the switch and walked with me into the arena. “Watch out for him at the turn – he’ll try to barge you out wide.”
I kept my temper. “I know, Cypselis. I raced against him last night, remember. I’ll be watching out for it. Anyway, I may be ahead of him at the pillar and he won’t be able to elbow me.”
“The other boys may get in your way – some of them are very fast, but only Big Bacchiad can keep going the full distance.”
“And me,” I said.
“And you,” Cypselis said.
The head teacher, Master Sophos, marched onto the starters’ platform and clapped his hands. Everyone fell silent.
“Welcome to the school Olympics. Remember, these games must be played in the spirit of the real Olympics. The most important thing in the Olympic Games is not winning but taking part; the great thing is not winning but fighting well. Let us have no cheating, boys!” He nodded to the bronzed men in the stands. “Let us show our heroes that we too can be heroes! May the best man win!”
Or the best girl, I smirked.
The crowd cheered and the athletes began to sort themselves out into groups – the javelin throwers at one end of the track and the runners near the start.
Master Sophus turned to us and smiled. “Now, boys, take off your clothes!”
The boys started to slip their tunics over their heads.
I turned to Cypselis. “Why are they taking their clothes off?”
“The Olympics are always run without clothes. Didn’t you know?”
“How could I know?” I hissed. “Girls aren’t allowed to watch the games, are they, you stupid, stupid boy!”
“They won’t let you run in a tunic,” my brother shrugged.
“Well I can’t take it off or they’ll know I’m not a boy. Didn’t you think of that?”
He just shrugged again. “I thought you knew. I thought you’d come up with a way round the problem.”
For once in my life even my wild temper couldn’t find any words to answer him.
I tore Cypselis’s hood and tunic off him and quickly put the hood over my head.
“Run, tortoise, run,” I whispered. Then I hurried off to find a seat in the stands.
Chapter Five
My brother tried. At the turn he was level with Big Bacchiad. The rest of the runners were already lengths behind.
The big boy leaned towards Cypselis and aimed to hit him with his shoulder. Cypselis skipped aside and Bacchiad missed. He stumbled and went round the turn with his arms whirling, trying to keep his balance.
By the time they were halfway to the finish, Cypselis was lengths ahead but his head was rolling from side to side. I knew it meant he was exhausted. His legs were shaking and his ankles looked weak.
I thought I could hear Bacchiad’s pounding feet even from the stands and even above the shouts of the crowd. Every stride took him closer to Cypselis. Every step took Cypselis closer to the finishing line. My tortoise brother had never run so bravely. Tears filled my eyes and I screamed his name till my throat was raw.
But his weary legs stumbled and Bacchiad pounded past him just before they reached the finish line.
A man in a rich cloak ran from the stands and wrapped his arms around the big boy.
He pushed some leaves into his hands and Bacchiad chewed on them hungrily. The man was Bacchiad’s father and he raised his son’s arms above his head in victory as Cypselis sank to his knees in despair.
I left the stand and walked
Some young men from the real Olympics were there. Their muscles were shiny and as hard as brass, and they strutted like cockerels to their seats by the finish line – the best seats.
There were no women there, of course … I was dressed in Cypselis’s tunic and my short hair felt odd.
Big Bacchiad looked at me. “Hello, Cypselis,” he sneered. His fat face was bulging as he chewed on some leaves. I hadn’t eaten breakfast. We had no goat, no food.
Big Bacchiad didn’t suspect a thing. My twin brother wore a hood so no one would see the switch and walked with me into the arena. “Watch out for him at the turn – he’ll try to barge you out wide.”
I kept my temper. “I know, Cypselis. I raced against him last night, remember. I’ll be watching out for it. Anyway, I may be ahead of him at the pillar and he won’t be able to elbow me.”
“The other boys may get in your way – some of them are very fast, but only Big Bacchiad can keep going the full distance.”
“And me,” I said.
“And you,” Cypselis said.
The head teacher, Master Sophos, marched onto the starters’ platform and clapped his hands. Everyone fell silent.
“Welcome to the school Olympics. Remember, these games must be played in the spirit of the real Olympics. The most important thing in the Olympic Games is not winning but taking part; the great thing is not winning but fighting well. Let us have no cheating, boys!” He nodded to the bronzed men in the stands. “Let us show our heroes that we too can be heroes! May the best man win!”
Or the best girl, I smirked.
The crowd cheered and the athletes began to sort themselves out into groups – the javelin throwers at one end of the track and the runners near the start.
Master Sophus turned to us and smiled. “Now, boys, take off your clothes!”
The boys started to slip their tunics over their heads.
I turned to Cypselis. “Why are they taking their clothes off?”
“The Olympics are always run without clothes. Didn’t you know?”
“How could I know?” I hissed. “Girls aren’t allowed to watch the games, are they, you stupid, stupid boy!”
“They won’t let you run in a tunic,” my brother shrugged.
“Well I can’t take it off or they’ll know I’m not a boy. Didn’t you think of that?”
He just shrugged again. “I thought you knew. I thought you’d come up with a way round the problem.”
For once in my life even my wild temper couldn’t find any words to answer him.
I tore Cypselis’s hood and tunic off him and quickly put the hood over my head.
“Run, tortoise, run,” I whispered. Then I hurried off to find a seat in the stands.
Chapter Five
My brother tried. At the turn he was level with Big Bacchiad. The rest of the runners were already lengths behind.
The big boy leaned towards Cypselis and aimed to hit him with his shoulder. Cypselis skipped aside and Bacchiad missed. He stumbled and went round the turn with his arms whirling, trying to keep his balance.
By the time they were halfway to the finish, Cypselis was lengths ahead but his head was rolling from side to side. I knew it meant he was exhausted. His legs were shaking and his ankles looked weak.
I thought I could hear Bacchiad’s pounding feet even from the stands and even above the shouts of the crowd. Every stride took him closer to Cypselis. Every step took Cypselis closer to the finishing line. My tortoise brother had never run so bravely. Tears filled my eyes and I screamed his name till my throat was raw.
But his weary legs stumbled and Bacchiad pounded past him just before they reached the finish line.
A man in a rich cloak ran from the stands and wrapped his arms around the big boy.
He pushed some leaves into his hands and Bacchiad chewed on them hungrily. The man was Bacchiad’s father and he raised his son’s arms above his head in victory as Cypselis sank to his knees in despair.
I left the stand and walked
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