I just love chariots race days. The NOISE! The EXCITMENT! The sheer heart banging THRILL of it all! I want to be one of those chariot racehorses, thundering round the bends, eyes blazing, mane on fire, hooves pounding like crazy. Yeah, I want to be charioteers horse. I'm fed up with flapping . I want 4 long striding legs, not flappy wings. Whaddya mean am I a bird? Do I look like an elephant? Squeaky squirrel? I don't think so. I'm a Raven. Got that? A resplendent Raven. Corvus, to be exact. Corvus maximus intelligentism. That's me! Go on, give me a biscuit! Kraarrk! Whaddya mean you didn't know Ravens could talk? Are you mad? Where have you been? Obviously not to school because If you had you'd know that Ravens are super intelligent, which is precisely what maximum intelligentissimussim- usimus means. It's Latin and it means 'a very smart bird with a brain the size of the colosseum'. A Raven mate of mine - now he is bright - he can count up to 16. That's almost 100. And don't ask me why it's called Latin either because I have no idea. After all, the French speak French, the English speak English, the Germans speak German and the Romans speak - Roman? No! They call it Latin. Get over it! Anyhow, let me put you in the pictur. We are the circus and, before you ask if there are any elephants or clowns, it's a big fat ' NO!' We are talking about the one and only circus maximum here in Rome and it's chariots race day. Or to put it another way it's CHARIOTS RACE DAY, WAHEY!! In other words, excitement abounds. Can't you here the noise? The yelling crowds? The blaring trumpets? The dreadful frowns when some poor charioteer gets shipwrecked? Whaddya mean, are they racing ships? Of course they're not racing ships. It's an expression - an expression the Romans use: shipwrecked. It means a chariot has just crashed, smashed to smithereens and it's rider has been hurdled to the dusty ground, quite possibly in front of the 3 other charging chariots, not to me soon all the other horses and pounding hooves. Urgh - makes me shudder just thinking about it. Get the picture? Good. Stop asking questions and I'll tell you, right? We're all here, the whole family - Krysis ( Dad ), Flavia ( Mum ), Hysteria ( daughter and Perilus ( son ) - and we've come to see our hero, Scorcha. He is the greatest charioteer ever, except Scorcha has a big problem, namely, he doesn't have a chariot. Why not? I thought you might ask, but please don't interrupt me again. Thank you? I shall continue. Ahem ahem. ( That was me clearing my throught because I have some explaning to do. ) I look after this kid, Perilus, right? Nice kid, floppy brown hair, hazel eyes, a few spots and a lot of attitude, but generally OK. He says I'm his pet, but am I kept on a chain like a dog? No. Am I shut in a cage like a parrot or a budgie? No. I can go wherever I like, whenever I like, whereas he has to ask his Mum or Dad to leave the house or walk down the street. So who's the pet now, eh? Toasted togas! He even tells his Mum and Dad when he's doing a wump. That's what you, being a human, call 'going to the lop.' For us Ravens it's called going for a wump. Unlike you humans, we do all that business in one go, so to speak. Bet you didn't know that. See? You're going to learn a lot from me. I'm not Called Corves maximum intelligentissimussimuss for nothing. ( It's difficult to get your beak round the word sometimes. )  Perilus usually calls me croakbag for short.