Free Ribblestrop Forever! by Andy Mulligan Page B

wheels.’
    ‘This is the lady who brought you here?’
    ‘She’s amazing,’ said Sanchez. ‘She knows everything.’
    The headmaster wiped his chin with a napkin. Like most of the children, he was on his third helping of food – it had seemed in never-ending supply. Where the money had come from he
didn’t dare ask, but the children had bought enough for an army twice their size. The cooks had been round again and again, pressing more onto everyone. He looked at all the empty tables,
immediately guilty that he had – yet again – let half the school drift off without really noticing. He also realised that his first priority should have been to meet and thank the
children’s saviour.
    ‘I must be introduced,’ he said. ‘It sounds as if we owe this lady a very great deal. It also sounds as if she’s rather special.’
    His first impression was that he was looking into a gypsy caravan.
    The back doors stood wide open and the interior of the van was bathed in cosy light from two pink lampshades. It was crammed with teachers and children, who had found places to perch on what
appeared to be shelves, alcoves and ledges. He could make out a low bed with a silk coverlet, and under people’s feet he could see Indian rugs. The old lady herself – Doctor Ellie
– was sitting on a stool, with a glass of rum in her hand. The other hand rested on a slab of white rock and from time to time she stroked it, as if it were a favourite pet.
    ‘. . . so, you see,’ she was saying, ‘the Romans took advantage of civilisations that were already highly developed. The idea that they came along and taught everyone how to
live is absolute poppycock.’
    ‘Were there Romans actually on Ribblemoor?’ said Anjoli.
    ‘Oh yes. There’s a hill fort quite close to your school. I’m surprised you haven’t seen it.’
    ‘Were there battles and things? Wars?’
    ‘There certainly were. There’s a grave site quite close to Lightning Tor. You’ve heard about Lightning Tor, I would imagine?’
    ‘We don’t really know the moor at all,’ said Millie.
    ‘Ah, well – you have a treat in store. Lightning Tor’s at the centre of things, I’m pretty certain about that. The scandal is that nowadays, nobody’s allowed near
it. A clan was wiped out just beyond the boundary fence, probably on Hadrian’s orders. If you can just . . . can you pass me the book behind you, Vijay? The one with the axe-head on the
cover. There are some very good photographs.’
    ‘Why were they wiped out?’ Miles asked. He was sitting next to Podma, who was gazing at a book of fossils.
    ‘Impossible to say,’ said Doctor Ellie. ‘Who knows what quarrels took place as the Romans pushed west? It was a Roman atrocity, though, because the wrists of the victims were
tied and the skulls had been smashed with hammers – which was a Roman way of execution. They kept their swords for combat, you see; they were far too precious to be used on slaves, or those
who were considered slaves. A Roman sword – this will interest you – would have cost a soldier more than a year’s salary. It’s the equivalent now of buying a
top-of-the-range Mercedes or BMW – something to be looked after very carefully and not used for a bit of casual butchery. And, of course, a good sword was believed to hold magical properties.
If you could forge metal in those days, well . . . you would have been considered a god.’
    Doctor Ellie glanced up and noticed the headmaster. Oh,’ she said. ‘I’m so sorry . . .’
    ‘What for?’ said the headmaster.
    ‘Don’t stop,’ said Sanjay.
    ‘I’m just sitting here rabbiting,’ said Doctor Ellie, struggling to her feet, ‘when I haven’t had the pleasure of introducing myself. You are the headmaster, I
presume?’
    The headmaster was pressed against the doors now, leaning in.
    ‘Come in, sir!’ said someone.
    ‘Is there any room?’ he said. ‘That was the most fascinating story.’
    ‘We can make room,’ cried