Class Trip to the Cave of Doom (6 page)

Wiglaf jumped back from the stalactite. Dudwin’s hand slid out of his.

Stone spears were falling thick and fast! Wiglaf ran for his life. He thought his brother was ahead of him. “Run toward the light, Dudwin!” he yelled.

Wiglaf heard a
whoosh
as Mordred raced by him.

At last, Wiglaf reached the mouth of the cave. He ran out into the daylight, gasping for air.

He saw Erica. And Mordred was leaning against the student teachers, catching his breath. But where was Dudwin?

Wiglaf heard footsteps. That had to be his brother. But a second later, Angus ran out of the cave.

“I’m not doomed after all!” Angus cried.

Wiglaf ran back to the mouth of the cave. “Dudwin?” he called. “Are you in there?”

“I’m stuck!” came the faint reply. “Help me, Wiggie!”

“I’m coming!” Wiglaf raced back into the cave. Falling stalactites whistled by him.

“Over here, Wiggie!” the boy cried.

Wiglaf turned toward the voice. At last he found his brother. A stalactite had stabbed through Dudwin’s baggy britches, pinning him to the spot.

Wiglaf tugged on the stalactite. He pulled with all his might. But it stayed stuck.

“Step out of your breeches, Dud,” Wiglaf said. “Hurry! You’ll have to leave them here.”

“No way!” Dudwin cried. “My treasures are in my pockets.”

Wiglaf groaned. He didn’t have time to argue. He felt like giving his stubborn little brother a kick in the shin. Instead, he drew back his foot and kicked the stalactite—hard!

Snap! It broke off at the base.

“Oooh!” Wiglaf cried. Had he broken all his toes, too?

“Way to go, Wiggie!” cried Dudwin.

Wiglaf grabbed Dudwin again. He forgot about his throbbing toes as he pulled his brother toward the light.

Then, to his horror, he saw that stone spears were falling right inside the mouth of the cave. And falling fast! The entrance was almost blocked!

“Faster, Dud!” Wiglaf cried. “Faster!” Wiglaf pushed Dudwin—hard! His brother half flew out of the cave.

Wiglaf dove after him. He rolled away as the spears filled the mouth of the cave. He lay on the ground, panting.

Dudwin raced over to Wiglaf. He helped him up. He threw his arms around him.

“Wiglaf!” he cried. “You saved my life!”

“Pipe down, you blasted boys!” Mordred yelled. “If not for you, I’d be a rich man!”

“A rich dead man,” Angus added.

Dudwin ran over to Mordred. “I want to be like my brave big brother! I want to go to Dragon Slayers’ Academy. Can I? Please?”

“You must be joking!” Mordred cried. “Wiglaf still owes me his seven pennies. You think I would let his brother in for free?”

“I can pay!” Dudwin said. He reached into his pocket. He pulled out his two gold coins.

Mordred’s eyes almost popped out of his head. “Those are
my
coins!” he roared. “I dropped them! Right in the spot where you found them!”

Dudwin pulled his hand back. “I’m not falling for
that
old trick!”

“Give him one coin, Dud,” Wiglaf whispered. “Or you shall lose both of them.”

“If you say so, Wiglaf,” Dudwin said.

And he threw one coin in a bush.

Mordred dove after it.

“Now run home with the other coin,” Wiglaf said. “Quickly, Dud! Before Mordred tries to get his hands on it!”

Dudwin slipped the coin into his pocket. He picked up his pack. He gave Wiglaf back his lucky rag. “It worked, Wiggie,” Dudwin said. “I didn’t get doomed.”

“Farewell, Dudwin!” Wiglaf said.

“Goodbye, Wiggie!” Dudwin smiled. “I’ll tell them at home how you saved my life in the Cave of Doom! I’ll tell them you are a hero!”

Dudwin waved and took off for the road.

Mordred crawled out from under the bush. He held up the gold coin. “Got it!” he cried.

“Excuse me, sir?” Erica said.

“What now?” Mordred asked as he got to his feet.

“We Bloodhounds found Seetha’s gold,” Erica said. “So we should get the prize.”

“Oh! You want a prize, do you?” Mordred showed all his teeth in a fierce grin. “And so you shall have one!”

Wiglaf didn’t like the way Mordred said that.

“Student teachers!” Mordred called. “Take the rest of the day off.”

“Oh, thank you, sir!” cried the thin ones.

Mordred stomped over to his throne-like chair. He sat down.

“Wiglaf, for your prize, take the right front pole!” he ordered. “Eric, left front! Angus, you take the two in the rear! Pick me up all at once, boys. No bouncing!”

Wiglaf struggled to pick up his part of the large headmaster. He groaned as he took a step.

“Faster, boys!” Mordred cried. “Or we shall never make it home by nightfall!”

“Things could be worse,” Erica said bravely as they staggered toward DSA.

Wiglaf nodded. And once they got there, he thought, they probably would be. But for now Wiglaf felt glad that he had sent his brother home with a gold coin. And with a true story about Wiglaf, the hero.

This time he started the singing:

Sir Herbert and Sir Ichabod founded Dragon Slayers’ Academy on a simple principle still held dear today: Any lad-no matter how weak, yellow-bellied, lazy, pigeon-toed, smelly, or unwilling—can be transformed into a fearless dragon slayer who goes for the gold. After four years at DSA, lads will finally be of some worth to their parents, as well as a source of great wealth to this distinguished academy.
^1
2
3

Mordred graduated from Dragon Bludgeon High, second in his class. The other student, Lionel Flyzwattar, went on to become headmaster of Dragon Stabbers’ Prep. Mordred spent years as part-time, semi-substitute student teacher at Dragon Whackers’ Alternative School, all the while pursuing his passion for mud wrestling. Inspired by how filthy rich Flyzwattar had become by running a school, Mordred founded Dragon Slayers’ Academy in CMLXXIV, and has served as headmaster ever since.

Known to the Boys as:
Mordred de Miser
Dream:
Piles and piles of dragon gold
Reality:
Yet to see a single gold coin
Best-Kept Secret:
Mud wrestled under the name
Macho-Man Mordie
Plans for the Future:
Will retire to the Bahamas ... as
soon as he gets his hands on a hoard

Lobelia de Marvelous is Mordred’s sister and a graduate of the exclusive If-You-Can-Read-This-You-Can-Design-Clothes Fashion School. Lobelia has offered fashion advice to the likes of King Felix the Husky and Eric the Terrible Dresser. In CMLXXIX, Lobelia married the oldest living knight, Sir Jeffrey Scabpicker III. That’s when she gained the title of Lady Lobelia, but—alas!—only a very small fortune, which she wiped out in a single wild shopping spree. Lady Lobelia has graced Dragon Slayers’ Academy with many visits, and can be heard around campus saying, “Just because I live in the Middle Ages doesn’t mean I have to look middle-aged.”