Chris Blake - Greek Warriors

Travel through time with Tom and Isis on more

adventures!

Time Hunters: Gladiator Clash

Time Hunters: Knight Quest

Time Hunters: Viking Raiders

Time Hunters: Greek Warriors

Time Hunters: Pirate Mutiny

Time Hunters: Egyptian Curse

For games, competitions and more visit:

www.time-hunters.com

Title Page Time Hunters: Greek Warriors Chris Blake

Prologue

Chapter 1: Supermarket Sweep

Chapter 2: The Greek Army

Chapter 3: The Legendary Odysseus

Chapter 4: A Gift Horse

Chapter 5: Letting the Cat out of the Bag

Chapter 6: An Unwanted Gift

Chapter 7: All Fired Up

Chapter 8: The King’s Ring

Chapter 9: Cat-apult

Chapter 10: Checking Out

Who were the Mightiest Greek Warriors?

Weapons

Greek Warriors Timeline

Time Hunters Timeline

Fantastic Facts

The Hunt Continues…

Copyright

About the Publisher

Princess Isis and her pet cat, Cleo, stood outside the towering carved gates to the Afterlife. It had been rotten luck to fall off a pyramid and die at only ten years of age, but Isis wasn’t worried – the Afterlife was meant to be great. People were dying to go there, after all! Her mummy’s wrappings were so uncomfortable she couldn’t wait a second longer to get in, get her body back and wear normal clothes again.

“Oi, Aaanuuubis, Anubidooby!” Isis shouted impatiently. “When you’re ready, you old dog!”

Cleo started to claw Isis’s shoulder. Then she yowled, jumping from Isis’s arms and cowering behind her legs.

“Calm down, fluffpot,” Isis said, bending to stroke her pet. “He can’t exactly woof me to death!” The princess laughed, but froze when she stood up. Now she understood what Cleo had been trying to tell her.

Looming up in front of her was the enormous jackal-headed god of the Underworld himself, Anubis. He was so tall that Isis’s neck hurt to look up at him. He glared down his long snout at her with angry red eyes. There was nothing pet-like about him. Isis gulped.

“‘WHEN YOU’RE READY, YOU OLD DOG?’” Anubis growled. “‘ANUBIDOOBY?’”

Isis gave the god of the Underworld a winning smile and held out five shining amulets. She had been buried with them so she could give them to Anubis to gain entry to the Afterlife. There was a sixth amulet too – a gorgeous green one. But Isis had hidden it under her arm. Green was her favourite colour, and surely Anubis didn’t need all six.

Except the god didn’t seem to agree. His fur bristled in rage. “FIVE? Where is the sixth?” he demanded.

Isis shook her head. “I was only given five,” she said innocently.

To her horror, Anubis grabbed the green amulet from its hiding place. “You little LIAR!” he bellowed.

Thunder started to rumble. The ground shook. Anubis snatched all six amulets and tossed them into the air. With a loud crack and a flash of lightning, they vanished.

“You hid them from me!” he boomed. “Now I have hidden them from you – in the most dangerous places throughout time.”

Isis’s bandaged shoulders drooped in despair. “So I c-c-can’t come into the Afterlife then?”

“Not until you have found each and every one. But first, you will have to get out of this…” Anubis clicked his fingers. A life-sized pottery statue of the goddess Isis, whom Isis was named after, appeared before him.

Isis felt herself being sucked into the statue, along with Cleo. “What are you doing to me?” she yelled.

“You can only escape if somebody breaks the statue,” Anubis said. “So you’ll have plenty of time to think about whether trying to trick the trickster god himself was a good idea!”

The walls of the statue closed around Isis, trapping her and Cleo inside. The sound of Anubis’s evil laughter would be the last sound they would hear for a long, long time…

The old lady’s shopping trolley was closing in on Isis Amun-Ra and her cat, Cleopatra.

Tom watched in horror.

“Get out of the way!” he shouted to Isis, waving his arms.

But the mummified Ancient Egyptian princess just stood at the entrance of the supermarket, hands on her hips, and said, “Why?”

The old lady wheeled her trolley straight at the two Egyptians.

Tom ran over and pushed his friends out of the trolley’s path.

“Are you trying to get killed?” he squeaked.

“Don’t be silly!” Isis said cheerfully. “I’m already dead.”

She ran in and out of the supermarket’s automatic doors, making them open and close.

“Stop! People are staring,” Tom hissed.

“Not at me!” Isis laughed. “Nobody but you can see us. Cleo and I are pretty nifty on our feet for five thousand years old, aren’t we?”

Suddenly Isis squealed. She pointed at Tom’s mother, who was pushing a supermarket trolley with a wonky wheel towards them.

“Look, Fluffpot!” she cried. Our very own chariot!”

“Tom,” Mum said. “I thought I told you to wait by the trolleys!”

“That’s right, you naughty boy,” said Isis, wagging her finger at Tom. “You should listen to mummy.”

Tom groaned and shot Isis a look of frustration. Under his breath he muttered, “I’ve been listening to a mummy ever since I broke that statue.”

A few weeks earlier, Tom had accidentally broken a statue of the goddess Isis at the museum where his dad worked, releasing the mummies of Isis and Cleo, who had been trapped inside it for over five thousand years. And now Tom was stuck with them until they’d found all six amulets that Anubis had scattered throughout history.

“Shopping’s so boring!” Tom grumbled, as they passed under the neon-lit entrance to the supermarket. “Why did I have to come?” he whined to Mum.

Mum was busy checking her list. “I need you to push the trolley,” she said, wandering over to the fruit and vegetable section.

Tom grabbed the trolley’s handle. But just as he was about to stop next to the tomatoes and peppers, Isis shouted. “Come on, Cleo! Let’s ride the chariot!”

Cleo mewed heartily. The two climbed up on to the banana shelf and sprang into the trolley, with Cleo nestling in the front section and Isis perched on the child’s seat.

Isis reached up and pulled down some bunting that was advertising the bananas. She flung it round Tom’s body and gave it a yank.

“Giddy-up, horsey! Pull me and Cleo to victory! YAH!”

“Isis, no!” Tom said.

“What’s wrong?” Isis asked. “You said you were bored. I’m only trying to liven things up a bit. I thought we could play chariot races.”

Just as Tom was about to tell Isis what he thought of her pretending he was a horse, the supermarket manager loomed over him. He knew it was the manager because the red-faced man wore a badge that said: ‘Brian, Store Manager’ on it.

Brian tapped Tom on the shoulder. “Young man! You are not to play with the bunting!” He pulled the tangle of yellow triangles off Tom’s coat.

Then, worst of all, Mum came over.

“Tom! What on earth are you doing?” Her face was pink with embarrassment. She waved a bunch of celery in the air, almost hitting Brian on the head. She turned to him and bit her lip. “I’m so sorry. He’s normally such a sensible boy.”