by C A A Allen
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www.facebook.com/TheCaveMaze
Published by
Fantastic Science Fantasy Adventures Press
New York • San Diego • Toronto • Nottingham • Sydney
Copyright © 2015 by C. A. A. Allen. All rights reserved.
First Kindle Edition: July 2015
Book designed by
Master IAM of Zwolle Ltd, St Ives Plc
Cover, map, & illustrations by Darko Tomic
The Labyrinth of Fear maze layout by
Master of the Playing Cards
The author and publisher have provided this e-book to you without Digital Rights Management software (DRM) applied so that you can enjoy reading it on your personal devices. This eBook is licensed for the personal enjoyment of the original purchaser only. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This is a work of fiction. All characters within are the products of the authors imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and all incidents are pure invention.
To Christopher II, La Skyeya, Naleesa, C. KaeShawn, Lelia, Angelina, and Antonio - my children are my strength.
CONTENTS
TITLE PAGE
COPYRIGHT
DEDICATION
MAP
EPIGRAPH
PART I – THE TEAM
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
APPX. A - SCHOLARSHIP ODDS
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
APPX. B - TALHOFFER ITEM ODDS
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
PART II – THE RUN
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
APPX. C - TEAMS ENTERING ODDS
APPX. D - FUTURES & PROPS
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
PART III – THE SPOILS
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 26
THE LABYRINTH OF FEAR
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
ILLUSTRATIONS
THE HOUNDS
SKEETER’S HAND
PORRIDGE
MOE’S SCALE
THE COCKATRICE
THE DINNER PARTY
A CHEST
Just as treasures are uncovered from the earth, so virtue appears from good deeds, and wisdom appears from a pure and peaceful mind. To walk safely through the maze of human life, one needs the light of wisdom and the guidance of virtue.
- Buddha
PART I
“THE TEAM”
CHAPTER 1
The pub owner jumped on top of a table near the center hearth. “Listen up! The odds makers have a new favorite for the scholarship, a young man who can swing a sword with the best.” He pointed at me. “Raff Jenkins!”
The pub erupted with high-spirited cheers. I folded my arms and leaned against the rough-carved bar like it was no big deal. The bartender lined three more cups of honey mead in front of me. Couldn’t beat free. Just as I almost had the first one to my lips, a raving drunk smashed his cup into it.
The man smiled from ear to ear. “Cheers, young sword slinger. You passed that magic user to become the two-to-one favorite, but I am not going to place my bet on you. Fighters don’t win these things. Tomorrow, when they announce the magic user as the winner, I’m going to be four times as rich as I am now. Four-to-one odds on a magic user. Now that’s a bet.”
With any luck, I’d be four times as rich, and finally able to pay this months’ rent. I rapid fire drank all three meads and slammed the final cup on the bar. “You’re wrong. The Mondovi scholarship will be mine.”
A set of silky smooth hands wrapped around my arm and pulled me off my seat. Vixenett swayed from side to side, her cheeks rosy and smile bright. “Let’s get out of here, Raff. We can celebrate at your place.”
Now that sounded like my kind of celebration.
The bartender reached across the bar and grabbed my other arm. “You aren’t taking him anywhere Mabel! The birthday boy can’t leave yet. The Skeppers Pub rule is one drink for every year of life, and he’s only had sixteen. Raff’s got two more drinks coming.”
Vixenett pulled me toward the door on the other side of the room. “Sorry, Thorvald. This party is going private. And you know better than to call me by my birth name.” We weaved past the stained tables of gamblers, stepping over some dropped dice and spilled mead. A flash of the hearth fire flickered in the eve-darkened windows just before we stepped outside.
Once in the crisp night air, we held hands and stumbled in what I thought was the general direction of my cabin. “I can definitely use another drink. It’s the rule, you know. Did Thorvald call you Mabel?” I tried to focus on Vixenett but it was no use. The heavy consumption of mead had made everything a blur. The last thing I remembered was falling into bed.
* * * *
Several heavy thumps on my door woke me. Not the landlord again.
I sat up. The room spun, wobbled, and came to a stop. The morning sun pierced through the crack under my door. I looked around. My sword lay dangerously in the middle of the floor, and clothes littered my hazard table, the only piece of furniture in my rickety one-room home.
I gently pulled back the covers to get a look at my houseguest. Vixenett’s coppery auburn hair splayed across both pillows. Seeing her in my bed made me smile. We’d spent a lot of time together lately. Some would say we were dating. I slowly ran my finger down her arm when the assault on my door began again. The violent knock shook one of the hinges off the door. Vixenett rolled over and put a pillow over her head.
My brain felt like it was going to explode into at least a million pieces. With my senses starting to come back, I recognized the knocking pattern. Three quick, three slow, and one loud pound.
Dread was the only person who would do this.
“Wait, damn you!” I slipped on my leather boots, wrapped a tattered blanket around my waist, and stumbled to the door. “There better be a whole lot of gold to be made at the shop to get me up this early.”
The knocking got even louder. I covered my ears. “Why you so impatient, Dread? Hold on, it’s way too early for all that noise.”
I cracked open my creaky wooden door and peeked outside. Yellow, red, and orange leaves blew in with a brisk cold gust. Even in autumn, the dirt road from town to my cabin still looked dry and dusty.
I took in the short human interruption bouncing up and down on his toes. “You ready to open up the shop, old man Jenkins?” He tried to push his way in, but I blocked him.
Even though our fathers were brothers, it would be difficult to see the family resemblances between Dread and me. He had a darker complexion and was shorter than me. I did my best to keep my hair combed and smelling decent. Dread’s hair was always a thick, curly, tangled rat’s nest and currently reeked of exotic herb smoke.
“Old man Jenkins?” I said. “Last I checked, I was younger than you, cousin.”
“Oh yah?” Dread said. “Sure you right.”
“Why you here at this ungodly time of morning anyway? We never open up the shop this early.”
“You overslept, the sorry-ass questers will be returning from the Cave Maze any time now, drunky. The High Road is already getting crowded, and we got busters
to sell. There’s also the matter of a scholarship announcement that I know you don’t want to miss.”
I smack my palm into my forehead. How could I have overslept on the biggest day of my life? The day I’d take my first steps out of this sleepy, snake pit of a village. I’ll never drink again if I win this scholarship. Never again. “Thank you for being an early bird, cousin.”
Dread made a few obnoxious sniffing noises. He looked over my shoulder with one eyebrow raised. “Hey, Raff,” he whispered. “I didn’t know you had company. Who that you laid up with?”
I looked back in my room to confirm Vixenett was still sound asleep. “The owner of that curvy silhouette you see in my bed is none of your business. It just belongs to the sexiest, coolest, and most loveliest young thing I know.” I took a few steps back and pulled a curtain in front of the bed. “We had some late evening crisples and milk, ya know. But enough about my girl, let me get ready to go.”
As I dressed in brown wool trousers, a deerskin vest, and a thick overcoat, Dread picked clothes off my hazard table and flung them to the floor. He kept Vixenett’s undergarments at a distance, pinching and tossing them into the curtain. He then selected two dice from the five kept in a semicircular wooden tray, and rolled them across the layout of the hazard table. They landed, showing a total of three.
“Three is a losing roll on the come out,” I said. “How’s your dice arm now days? You know, it’s always better—”
“—to finesse the dice,” Dread cut in. “I know, I know. I haven’t forgot my father’s advice.”
“Famous advice,” I corrected.
Dread pulled two dice from his pocket. “It’s a whole lot easier to finesse the dice when you have these.” He was careful to set the dice with the three spots in a V on top, and then lightly threw them down low, with almost no arc. They landed, showing a total of seven, a come out winner.
Dread snapped his fingers and pointed at me. “I can roll damn near any number I want with these bones.”
“You still carry around those weighted dice Uncle Mack made?” It might have been best for him had he lost them. As perfect as those cheating tools were, they could be dangerous nowadays.
“Yes, sir. A lot of gold has been swindled with these gems. One time, my father went on a road trip, leaving me at home with nothing but the raggedy clothes on my back and these dice in my hand. He told me to earn my keep while he was gone, and that I did. When he returned to the village, I had a fur-lined coat, a cornucopia of fruit, and a sack of herbs bigger than your head. So yeah, I still carry these dice.”
That sounded exactly like something Uncle Mack would do, but just for banter’s sake… “Uncle Mack did not do that to you.”
“Yes he did. We should bring the hustle back. Our fathers taught us the game way too well to let these skills go to waste.”
Tempting as it was, I had a scholarship coming to me with a bright future. “The Hazard scam was one of the sweetest our dads ever came up with, but those crooked dice will get you killed. House dice are the standard at gambling dens now, the hustle wouldn’t work these days.”
I picked up and sheathed my sword. How did this end up on the floor? I pulled back the curtain, kissed Vixenett on her forehead, then gave Dread a wink. “Mmm, Mmm, Mmm, I just might have to marry this one. Let’s go!”
CHAPTER 2
Dread and I squeezed our way through the crowd to open for business. Our one-room shop rose like a boulder amidst the river of people. Spectators lined the road, end-to-end, in some places five deep.
“It looks like the whole village came out today, except the drunks at the Skepp.” I spot Questing University’s Chancellor Liberi and his entourage schmoozing their way to the stage on the outskirts of town. “Look, Dread. There goes the man that’s going to grant me that scholarship.”
Dread flicked his hand and looked the other direction. “Damn Liberi, he isn’t giving me anything. And there’s no guarantee he’s giving you anything either. None at all.”
After plenty of elbowing, we reached our shop. I stood tall and continued. “The current line on me is two-to-one, cousin. That does make me the favorite. My dream of attending Questing University is coming to fruition.”
“I don’t know what you expect to learn from those stuck-up phonies.” Dread grinned and leaned against the wall of our shop. “You’re already the best in the village with a sword.”
That was the point. I didn’t want to be the best in the village. I wanted to be the best in the kingdom…in all skills. Not just swordplay. “Well, on top of bettering the swordsmanship that I already know, I’ll be learning knife fighting, archery, spear work, burglary, and safebreaking from the best.”
“What?” Dread lurched back to a standing position. “Did you say burglary and safebreaking? I can teach you everything you need to know about those subjects. I must have watched my dad break into a thousand chests, difficult ones too. People from all over Broxington used to pay him to open them. My father never set off a single trap, and he always got the treasure out unscathed. He taught me how to do it too. I’m damn good.”
“I know Dread, but the university also teaches the arts, law, and medicine. Things you know nothing about.”
Dread scrunched his lips. “I don’t care about that stuff.”
“After graduating, I will be in demand with the top paying questing teams entering the Cave Maze. Top paying, Dread. I can’t wait.”
The crowd spread in front of us. “Watch out there now! Coming through.” An old man whipped a walking cane from side to side, hitting people on their ankles.
“It’s old man Bendigo,” Dread said. “Your biggest fan. I don’t know why you like this guy.”
“I like him because he was the only one to bet I would be victorious in my first abbey tournament, and he did it when I was a thirty-to-one freshman dog.” I flicked my collar. “You know I beat three upperclassmen in first round victories to win that thing. Bendigo cheered me on all the way, and slid several gold coins my direction after the victory. You’re just mad you didn’t follow his bet.”
“My boy Raff!” Bendigo rasped. “Your sword skills are the best I have seen since Giovanni Mondavi himself! A lot of these boobs throwing down gold on that sissified magic user and bougie fighter you up against, but they ain’t ‘bout nothin’. I got my gold bet on you at the Skepp, son. I’m on my way there right now.”
“Well you fixing to be a rich man, Bendigo,” I said. “I’d appreciate a toke after that payout.”
He continued down the street waving a finger in the air. “I got you, boy! I got you!”
I folded my arms and grinned. This could end up being the best day of my life. Bendigo knows, magic users are not all that great.
Dread unlocked our shop door and kicked over a rock to hold it open. Before stepping in, he pulled a pin from a tiny hole in the wall, and scrutinized the ceiling. After disengaging the boulder and acid globe trap his father had designed, he walked in.
I hoisted the large wooden panel at our main window and propped it up with a stick. All eight businesses surrounding the village square were busy.
My old friend Gibbet loitered around begging people to buy his oxymel, a honey and vinegar drink used for the treatment of fever, pain, or whatever else the peddler thinks they need to say to sell the swill. Now that was just sad. Gibbet actually had some good fighting skills back in the day. It would be living death to be him, stuck here peddling honey-related products in the streets.
Dread pried a slat off our bench seat, lifted out a chest and opened it. Inside were four small brown corncobs with string tails, the last of our highly coveted chest-buster explosives in the inventory.
Dread kicked the bottom of the bench. “Only four busters to sell and we’re bone dry.”
Four? That was it? On a day like today, we needed at least a dozen.
A slender man with a belette on his shoulder approached the shop. Aw man, I wanted a belette, also called a sniffer. Some people called them co
mmon weasels, but I knew better. Belettes could sniff out any harm that could ruin a quester’s day in the Maze—traps, curses, spells, and the presence of evil and magic were just a few of the things a well-trained belette could warn of.
Four lousy busters wouldn’t make enough gold to purchase a belette’s toenail. But maybe winning the scholarship would set me up enough to get one.
The man stepped in our shop and adjusted his leather sword belt, it had several knives, and a simple flanged mace suspended from it. “Do you sell potions?”
I picked up a buster and presented it to the quester. “No potions. We only sell chest-busters here. They’re a must-have if you’re going in the Maze.”
His belette jumped down to a table. Colored reddish brown with a white underbelly, it stood up on its hind legs. Maybe I’d get one like that.
“Who is this?” I rested my elbows on the counter, peering as closely at the belette as I could without inciting a reprimand.
The belette’s little pink nose twitched, it sniffed and looked around the shop rapidly.
The man lifted his chin. “Her name is Tavi. She can sense a hag from across forest and hills.”
I gave her a light pet under the chin. “A fine looking sniffer.” She started dooking—a chuckling bark—licked my hand, and then jumped down to explore the shop.
Yup. I’d get myself a sniffer the moment I got that scholarship gold.
The man held the chest-buster at both ends and gave it a half twirl. “Exquisitely rolled.” He brought it up to his nose and took a whiff. His face turned sour as he pulled it away. “Skunky, does this have huo-yao in it?”
Dread leaned forward and made strong eye contact with the man. “The best explosives always do. That and a few secret ingredients make our chest-busters the best.”
The man held the buster out toward Dread. “My team has a thief, and a magic user to open chests.”