Read The Trophy of Champions for Free Online

see it on my ship, ze Velvet Wave . Ze first team zat can touch zis trophy before ze end of ze last event vill receive one bonus point.’
    There was a murmur of curious interest from the athletes.
    â€˜Piece of cake,’ croaked one of the toads. ‘That’s easier than catching a cane beetle stuck on its back.’ She gave her hind legs a mighty kick and launched herself high into the air.
    With lightening quick reflexes, the surrounding rabbits whipped out an arsenal of pea shooters and slingshots from their coats and peppered the unsuspecting toad with purple paint pellets. She crashed to the ground, dripping in sticky purple liquid.
    â€˜The colour suits you, Sugar!’ barked one of the poodles.
    Gingerly, she picked herself up and limped back to her team, while the audience roared with laughter.
    â€˜I failed to mention zat my twelve sons vill be keeping a close eye on ze trophy,’ Gustave chuckled. ‘A single spot of paint on any team member vill rule out ze entire team from ze bonus event.’ He frowned sympathetically at the paint-splattered toad. ‘I’m afraid to say, zat includes you, Miss Sugar.’
    Ignoring the croaking protests of the toads, Gustave gestured to a square-sided tower rising high above the trees. It was constructed from rough planks of timber and topped with a bark roof. A large bronze bell hung at the top, accessed by a rickety rope ladder. The entire tower appeared to be leaning precariously to the right.
    â€˜Ze first event vill commence tomorrow morning,’ Gustave announced. ‘You vill hear ze bell toll vhen it is time to assemble. I bid you all goodnight.’
    â€˜What about the Death Ball pools?’ Bartholomew Brawl barked. ‘Aren’t you gonna tell us who we’re fightin’?’
    â€˜No,’ Gustave replied bluntly. ‘Zat vould spoil ze surprise – and surprises are vot zese games are about.’

The Bells of Autumn
    The stars were still shining in the indigo sky when the bell rang out across the sleepy island. Whisker opened his bleary eyes and stared at the roof of the tent. Troubled thoughts of the Cat Fish had plagued his mind for most of the night.
    Every crash and clang from the bustling Champions Tavern had woken him with a fright. Every snarl, sneeze, sigh and snore that echoed through the campsite had set his nerves on edge. In the dark hours of the morning he’d almost convinced himself Sabre was lurking outside his tent, waiting to pounce. Whisker longed for the quiet sanctuary of the ocean, where the dull murmur of the wind and the rhythm of the waves gently rocked him to sleep.
    â€˜Couldn’t they wait till sunrise to ring that blasted bell?’ Horace moaned, covering his ears with his pillow. ‘Professional athletes deserve their rest.’
    Fred opened his enormous eye and blinked at his two tent-mates.
    â€˜No time for a cooked breakfast,’ he grunted, clambering out of his sleeping bag. ‘Cold pies on the run – again.’
    Nibbling on a slice of stale apricot pie, Whisker followed the rest of the crew towards the lookout tower. The sky was slowly lightening in the east, revealing the black silhouettes of the forest trees high above them.
    â€˜How’s my precious granddaughter this morning?’ Granny Rat asked as Ruby begrudgingly guided her along the uneven track. ‘Ready to show those vile thugs what we girls are made of?’
    â€˜Sure, Gran,’ Ruby muttered, ‘as soon as we know what event we’re in.’
    â€˜It will be Death Ball,’ Granny replied confidently, ‘mark my words. I’ve seen enough of these barbaric games to know how it works. No organiser would be daft enough to start with a soft event like Plank Diving. The spectators would tear him to shreds.’
    As the line of sleepy animals neared the wooden tower, the chimes of the bell were replaced by the booming voice of Baron Gustave.
    â€˜Please