Double Dragon Trouble (2 page)

The office door opened. Wiglaf heard a key turning in a lock.

“I shall reward you,” said the headmaster, “with a great steaming mug of Frypot's hot chocolate.”

“Oh,” said Yorick, sounding far less happy now.

Their footsteps trailed off down the hall.

Wiglaf quickly struggled out of the armor.

Angus did, too. He rushed over to Wiglaf.

“Did you hear that?” Angus whispered.

Wiglaf nodded. “Do you think Mordred will pay the ransom?”

“Not a chance,” said Angus.

“We must find out who's been kidnapped,” said Wiglaf. “We must try to help!”

“We must?” Angus didn't sound so sure.

“Maybe Mordred left the ransom note inside his office.”

“Let's see.” Angus jiggled the doorknob this way and that. The door opened.

Wiglaf's heart thumped with fear as he slipped into the headmaster's office. He shuddered to think what Mordred would do if he caught them snooping.

The lads searched Mordred's desk. No note. They looked between his couch cushions. And under all his many pillows. They found nothing. Wiglaf glanced into Mordred's trash bin. He saw torn pieces of parchment.

He gasped. “There it is! He ripped up the ransom note.”

Wiglaf and Angus began picking parchment scraps out of the trash bin. The lads stuffed the pieces into their pockets. Then Angus grabbed more parchment from Mordred's desk. He tore it to bits and tossed them into the bin.

The lads quickly left the headmaster's office.

“Let us go up to the library to piece the note together,” said Wiglaf. “Mordred will never come up there.”

The lads hurried to the South Tower.

“Brother...Dave?” Wiglaf called, out of breath from running up the 427 steps to the DSA library.

There was no answer.

“Worm?” Angus called, panting loudly.

They heard not a peep from the young dragon who lived part-time in the library.

“Look,” said Angus. “Brother Dave left a note on his desk.”

 

WHO SLEW SIR MORTIMER WIPPLEWART
?
by Howard I. Know

Angus and Wiglaf emptied their pockets onto the library table. They sat down and began piecing torn edges of parchment scraps together. Soon thin black lines began to form into words: “
tonight
” and “
gold
.”

“'Tis not only words,” said Angus. “There is also a map. Look.”

Wiglaf put the last few pieces in place. Angus pasted them down on a second sheet of parchment with Brother Dave's library paste. They were missing a few scraps, which left holes in the note. But they had enough to read:

 

Wiglaf stared at the spidery writing. The kidnapper had a serious spelling problem.

“Dear Mordred,” he read aloud, filling in the missing letters. “Leave a wheelbarrow piled high with gold outside Keep Away Mountain Cave.”

“If the gold is not there by tonight,” Angus continued, “you will never see your dear Magg—again!”

“Who is Magg—?” asked Wiglaf.

“Maggie?” said Angus.

“I do not know any Maggie,” said Wiglaf. “Do you?”

Angus shook his head.

Wiglaf read the note again. He looked at the crudely drawn map below. It showed a path leading north from DSA to Keep Away Mountain. A blob about halfway between the two was labeled T.V.

“T.V.—that must be Toenail Village,” said Wiglaf. “That means Keep Away Mountain Cave is not far from here. If we walk quickly, we can reach it this afternoon.”

“Why would we want to do that?” asked Angus.

“To rescue whoever has been kidnapped,” said Wiglaf. “And this is big news, Angus. Think of the story we could write! Surely Erica would put it on the front page of the
DSA News.”

“But what if the kidnapper kidnaps us?” Angus shuddered at the thought.

“If you had been kidnapped, would you not want someone to come to your rescue?” asked Wiglaf.

“Of course,” said Angus. “I would want someone bold and brave, like Sir Lancelot, to rescue me. Not some little pip-squeaks like us.”

“Well, do you see Sir Lancelot here?” asked Wiglaf. “No. And the rescue must take place tonight.”

Angus shook his head.

“Rescuing someone from a kidnapper would be a bold, brave deed,” said Wiglaf.

Angus stared at his friend.

“We would be heroes,” Wiglaf said.

“Angus du Pangus, a hero,” Angus said dreamily. “That would show Uncle Mordred.” He folded up the ransom note. “Come on, Wiglaf. We have to get to that cave!”

E
veryone was in afternoon classes. So no one was in the Lads' Dorm to see Wiglaf and Angus packing.

Wiglaf tossed his rope and his sword, Surekill, into his bundle. He had borrowed Erica's mini-torch and tinderbox. He did not think she would mind if he took them along. Not if he brought back a good story for
DSA News
.

Angus packed quickly. Then he slid back a stone in the wall and reached into a secret compartment. He pulled out his goodie box. Wiglaf watched eagerly as his friend filled a bag with Licorice Dice, Graham Cookies, Cocoa Cubes, Camelot Crunch Bars, Medieval Marshmallows, Jolly Jelly Worms, Sugar-Lard Chewies, Gummy Eels, and Clotted Custard Cups.

Wiglaf hooked his water bag to his belt. Then he left a note on his pillow:

Minutes later, the lads were heading north on Huntsman's Path. Soon they reached Toenail. They made their way through its winding streets and at last came to the north end of the village. In the distance Wiglaf saw a high mountain peak.

“Keep Away Mountain,” he said.

“Strange name for a mountain,” said Angus. They started north on Goback Path. “Strange name for a path, too.” He stopped in his tracks. “
Keep away. Go back
. Do you think someone's trying to tell us something?”

Wiglaf shrugged. “Maybe. But we must go on.”

A bird above them chirped,
“Turnaround! Turnaround!”
Another chimed in with:
“Getoutahere! Getoutahere!”

Wiglaf shivered. He tried to think of the birds' warning cries as rich details for the story he would write for
DSA News
. He wondered what he and Angus would find when they reached the cave. And whether two small, barely armed lads were really a match for a kidnapper.

On the future dragon slayers walked. They passed many a road sign, telling them where they might end up if they took the forks along Goback Path.

The signs said:

The lads stayed on the path, heading north. Now the signs changed.

After that last sign, Angus stopped and said, “Let's go back.”

“We went into the Cave of Doom,” Wiglaf said. “And lived to tell about it.”

“Maybe we shouldn't push our luck,” said Angus.

“We shall be heroes, remember?” said Wiglaf. “Think of that.”

Angus groaned. But on they went.

By afternoon they reached the foot of Keep Away Mountain. Wiglaf checked the path in front of them. It spiraled around the mountain up to a gaping black hole: Keep Away Cave.

“Do you want to rest before we start the climb?” asked Wiglaf.

“No,” said Angus. “If I stop, I'll never go on.”

They started up the rocky path. The mountain rose up on one side of them. On the other side was a steep drop-off. They had not gone far, when they came to a sign:
Bats are brown.

They walked up and came to another sign:
Snakes are black.

The next sign said:
If I were you

On they walked until they came to:
I'd turn back.

Angus froze in his tracks. “I'm scared.”

“Me too,” Wiglaf admitted, but they kept on walking. Before long, they came to another series of signs. These said:

They didn't turn around. But they did drop to their hands and knees to crawl up a difficult stretch. Neither lad dared look down.

At last they rounded the final curve—and found themselves facing a wall of rock.

Angus groaned. “We'll never make it!”

“Look, there are toe holes. And cracks in the rocks to grab,” Wiglaf said. “We can climb it.”

With Wiglaf in the lead, the lads stuck the toes of their boots into holes. They stuck their fingers into the cracks, and they climbed the rock wall. At last they reached the top and rolled onto a level grassy patch.

Wiglaf lay there for a moment, panting for breath.

“I can't believe I did that,” said Angus. “This calls for some stash.” He pulled his bag from his pocket. He gave Wiglaf one Jolly Jelly Worm. Then he ate almost all the rest.

The lads hiked the short distance to the yawning hole in the mountain, Keep Away Cave. There were signs stuck on wooden posts all around the cave entrance. One read:

Another said:

“Who do you suppose wrote these signs?” said Angus, his voice trembling.

“We must go in!” said Wiglaf. He sounded far braver than he felt. He lit Erica's mini-torch. He held it in one hand. In the other, he held his sword, Surekill. He stepped into Keep Away Cave.

“Oh, wait for me,” wailed Angus. “I don't want to stay out here alone!”

Wiglaf felt Angus grab the back of his tunic. The two edged slowly past a huge boulder just inside the mouth of the cave and stepped into a dark narrow tunnel. They inched along. Wiglaf saw several narrower passages that led off the main tunnel to who knows where. The cave smelled of smoke and something rotten. They had to watch their step so as not to trip over the stalagmites sticking up from the cave floor. They had to crouch down to keep from scraping their heads on the pointy stalactites hanging down from the cave ceiling. It wasn't easy.

CLANG! Wiglaf kicked something. He aimed the torch at the floor of the cave.

“'Tis the armored boot of a knight!” cried Wiglaf.

“Look over there!” cried Angus. “A knight's glove! But where is the knight?”

Wiglaf had no answer. The boot was rusted. So was the glove. Whatever happened to this knight had happened many long years ago.

As they pressed on, they found the cave floor littered with pieces of armor. Dented helmets. Rusty chest plates. Random bits of chain mail. A sword handle, with only the stump of a blade. Wiglaf thought it looked as if a terrible battle had taken place inside this cave.

“Listen!” whispered Angus.

Far away, Wiglaf heard clanking. And—was that a shriek? Yes! And there was another! He tightened his grip on Surekill and took another step.

The tunnel widened. Wiglaf saw a fire flickering in the distance. They kept on. As they got closer to the fire, the cave grew brighter. And the clanking and shrieking grew louder.

“Why did we come here?” whimpered Angus.

“Shhhh,” cautioned Wiglaf. “We must take the kidnapper by surprise.”

“But what if there's more than one?” Angus squeaked. “What if there's a whole gang of them? What will we do?”

A sudden screech split the air.

“Zounds!” cried Wiglaf and Angus together.

They threw their arms around each other and held on tight.