The Cave Maze- Wizard Warrior Quest

by C A A Allen

  “But what about fighting skills?” I asked. “She annihilated all the girls she fought at the abbey. Her only losses came in archery competitions.”

  Dread shook his head. “It’s a shame she didn’t inherit an elf’s good aim. A half-elf with questionable archery skills is not going to win.”

  “Tigress would have been better at archery if she didn’t spend all her time breeding and training those sniffers. You know she and I were getting a little bit close during our senior year. She’s like the one that got away.” I sure missed being at the abbey with Tigress. Sitting in the cloister garden discussing fighting technique. She gave the best advice. I liked to think I gave good advice too, especially when I acted out some moves, but I learned more from her than she did me. Those were my favorite moments at the abbey.

  Dread gave me the evil eye. “Tigress and her mother make a lot of gold selling those highly coveted sniffers. I would concentrate on what makes me gold too, and for her that’s sniffer breeding. As for you two getting close, you remember what Uncle Riff said. She’s off limits. Otherwise I would have got with her a long time ago.”

  A wistful expression crossed his face for a moment, then he returned to business-mode. “Zombo Packer is at four-to-one. Your friends over at Questing University have a thing for magic users, they’ve won two of the three Davis including the last one.”

  I had only known a few magic users in my life. Most could only do basic things like make water boil in an instant, or zap a fly dead with their touch. The lucky ones had deadly ‘cave maze useful spell abilities’. The most sought after magic users, like Zombo, had at least one offensive, and one defensive cave maze useful spell in their arsenal.

  By now, the square had emptied. All onlookers were probably at the stage. I should be there.

  As if reading my thoughts, Dread ambled away from our shop in the direction of the stage. “Finally, we have your closest competition. Chazekial Manor is at three-to-one. Now Chaz has had a couple of losses against you at the abbey, but other than that he hasn’t done anything to embarrass himself as a fighter. His parents own the meadery, which makes them the most prolific, and influential family in Beeston. Have you ever had a cup of the meadery’s exquisite melomel style honey wine XO, Raff?”

  “I’ve tried a lot of their meads. I can’t say I’ve had that one.”

  Dread licked his lips. “Believe me when I tell you it’s a fool. The wine pours dark red and has the taste of fresh raspberry, honey, and vanilla.”

  “How would you know?” I quirked an eyebrow. “XO meads cost more than a bloated chest of gold from the Maze.”

  “I was lucky to be at the Skepp when a happy quester wanted to celebrate a lucrative run. He asked for a bottle of their best to share with everyone at the bar, the XO is what he got.”

  “Damn Dread, you making me thirsty. I’ll be sure to invest some of my scholarship gold on purchasing a bottle.” Before we’d even rounded the corner to the stage, the murmur of the crowd tickled my ears. Soon those murmurs might be cheers…for me.

  “I won’t be holding my breath, Raff. I bring the XO up because rumor has it Chaz’s parents have been hand delivering free cases of the stuff to Chancellor Liberi, and other Sneinton residence who have say on the scholarship outcome. Also, Chaz’s older brother Jeevesekial won this thing eight years ago. Jeeves has been a big part of the team’s success over the last few years.”

  He nudges me with his elbow. “So what do you think of my expert analysis?”

  “Do me, cousin,” I said. “I want to hear your Raff Jenkins breakdown.”

  “Well you’re the two-to-one unbeaten favorite, and beating Chaz head to head gives you an understandable edge over him with the odds makers. The only problem is that your father’s got a past in Sneinton.” Dread held one finger in the air and twirled it in a circle. “Uncle Riff gets around you know, and I love me some Uncle Riff for that.”

  I smacked down Dread’s hand. “Just because he’s a master of chivalry, don’t believe everything you hear. That stuff about my father and Chancellor Liberi’s wife is all nonsense.”

  Dread looked down at his smacked hand, then at me with a gleam of mischievousness. “Nonsense or not, rumors of your father messing around with peoples’ wives, and countless other Sneinton socialites is going to play against you. Unfortunately haters have been known to play a role in Davi decisions. You may also remember our fathers wiping out those non-hazard playing suckers at the old Sneinton gambling den. Don’t think those losers forgot about that.”

  We reached the edge of the crowd. They pressed against each other, crushed against the base of the stage. Dust hung in the air from their movement, choking some chatterers, but not enough to quell the buzz of excitement.

  A row of black robe wearing university students stood straight-faced across the back of the stage. Above their heads extended a banner: ‘The Worshipful Company of Cave Maze Questing - In knowledge, there is gold.’ A short, stocky man secured a podium front and center. He barked out orders to his flunkies, and then stepped back stage.

  “My father’s crooked reputation is going to be the death of me Dread,” I said. “All that hustling has done nothing but bring our family’s name down. I am going to be a legitimate questing professional once I get this scholarship.”

  Dread took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “Cousin, my heart is with you, but my gold is on Chaz at the Skepp, and I hope today will be my big payday.”

  I snapped my head around to meet his gaze. “You bet against me, cousin?”

  Dread slid the betting slip slowly into his pocket, and put a hand on my shoulder. “Don’t take it hard Raff, when it comes to gambling I never let personal feelings get in the way of my paydays.”

  I shook his hand off. “You need a big payday after losing that death over-under wager earlier. By hook or by crook that scholarship is mine. If you put gold on Chaz to take it, then that’s a losing proposition.” I stomped into the crowd toward the stage. “Drinks on me after I win this.”

  “Drinks on me when Chaz wins it,” Dread said.

  A muscle-bound thief wearing a thick gold chain, and fine leather armor strutted across the stage. He tossed silver pennies into the crowd, and then flexed his biceps. Several young girls rushed the stage area in front of him. They waved their arms and screamed to gain his attention. One stretched her arm out far enough to grab, and pull on his ankle. He knelt down, took her hand, and kissed it before standing up straight to the right of the podium.

  That quester got it. He had gold, women, fame, and adventure in his life…exactly what I wanted. Today was the day I’d get it too. Good-bye Beeston, hello Questing University.

  Questing captain Saracen Babington took stiff steps onto the stage. He saluted the thief, pointed to a few members of the crowd, and took up a position to the left of the podium.

  Zombo stood down at the stage’s right side surrounded by several wide-eyed youngsters. He flicked his thumb to spark a burning flame on the tip. When the flame flared purple, then green, the kids oohed and aahed. How weak was that? Most magic users could do that insignificant move from age six. Why were those kids so impressed?

  “Let’s get in closer Dread, we’re too far back from the action.” I didn’t see Tigress there for the announcement. With the odds so far out of her favor, I couldn’t blame her for not being there. I wish she came anyway. Once I won, she would be the first person I thanked. Before my abbey duels she would always give me a rundown of my opponent, filling me in on their weaknesses. She had a great eye for such things, and often provided me with tips that helped me win.

  We worked our way in about three rows from the front of the stage. I got bumped hard from behind.

  “Well if it isn’t the explosives boys.” Chazekial took a few steps toward the stage then turned and looked me up and down. “Today I will win the Mondavi Scholarship, and join my brother Jeevesekial at Questing University. I do hope you have your gold bet on me at the Skeppers Pub, Dread.”
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  Chaz looked up at the stage then back at us with a toothy grin. “I’m a lock for this boys. You should hope to be in consideration for the scholarship four years from now, Raff. I’ll put in a bad word for you, or not.”

  Chaz cruised through the crowd to join his family members near the front of the stage. They had a roped off area with shade and plush seating.

  “That guy’s rotten to the core,” I said.

  Dread patted the pocket containing the betting slip. “That payday won’t be rotten when he takes this scholarship.”

  Chancellor Liberi stepped up to the podium and cleared his throat. His cheeks hung low like a hound dog’s and wrinkles interrupted any attempt at a facial expression. Old Geezer. “The prestigious scholarship I am about to award exists because of my school’s greatest team captain, and this village’s greatest quester. My friend Giovanni Mondavi died while questing in the Cave Maze fourteen years ago. Through his exploits, he left enough gold in the vaults of the university to assure that one resident of his hometown will be able to attend my school every four years. With Giovanni’s help, what was once a training center for goldsmith guild security guards is now the top destination to learn Cave Maze questing. Graduates now make up nearly half of all accredited teams entering the Cave Maze. It is my pleasure to grant one of Beeston’s residents a full scholarship to the greatest institution of Cave Maze questing mastery.”

  Jeevesekial stepped onto the stage with the scroll that contained the winner’s name. He handed it to the Chancellor.

  Chaz looked back at me and winked. ‘That’s my brother,’ he mouthed.

  My stomach churned. I’d waited four years for this scholarship. Four years. If only they’d offer it more often, but no… once every four years and that was it. Every time I picked up a sword this moment flashed in my head. The scroll, the cheers, standing here with Dread, all I needed now was to hear my name.

  Dread bounced up and down and clapped his hands. “Ahhhh it’s suki, suki time. Here comes the name of our winner.”

  CHAPTER 5

  Chancellor Liberi unrolled the scroll. “Zombo Packer!”

  The crowd erupted in cheers. Not for me.

  For Zombo.

  Well-wishers swarmed him. Vixenett soared past me and landed a huge kiss on the winner’s cheek.

  “There goes wifey,” Dread said.

  I knelt down on one knee and put my head down. That scholarship is mine and I did everything to deserve it. The odds makers had me as favorite for a damn good reason.

  I pick up a large jagged rock sitting near my knee. “I’m about to hurl this at that undeserved winner’s forehead.”

  Dread shook his head and glared at the winner. “Oh my damn, another one. Magic users get all the love. One day the Davi will go to a real quester, a thief like me. We might as well face it Raff, magic users are in high demand with questing teams these days.”

  I stood, turned around, and pushed out of the crowd with the rock in hand. What were these people cheering for? Put me in a bout with Zombo and I would have my blade through his heart long before he could conjure up that stream of acidy slime. With no scholarship I was trapped in Beeston under the Jenkins reputation of low-life scum forever. And what was Vixenett doing kissing on Zombo? I thought we were dating. I guess I couldn’t blame her. He was all but a quester now, and a magic user, and not a low-life Jenkins who lived in a rickety hovel.

  Dread caught up and walked along side of me. “I should have known not to wager so much gold against a magic user. Now we’re a real long way from the sack of huo-yao we need.”

  “We’re not a real long way from the Skeppers Pub.” I flung the rock into some nearby trees. “There’s one thing I’m absolutely sure of right now cousin, and that is a whole lot of honey mead can help solve these problems for today. I need a drink.”

  “Or two, three, four, or more,” Dread said. “Let’s do this, I have an urgent need for mead.”

  The stomp of my footfalls felt good. Purposeful. As I listened to the rhythm, an idea sprouted. “Cousin, I have a backup plan, and it’s an idea that’s seriously going to mess you up.” Oh, but it would set us up, too. “We are going to get the gold we need for that sack of huo-yao, melomel XO, gambling funds for you, and Questing University tuition for me. I’ll meet you at the Skepp in a little bit, I got to speak with somebody before I break this genius idea down to you.”

  * * * *

  The Skeppers Pub was abuzz with chatter after the big events of the day. Dread leaned on the bar, enjoying—rather loudly—the company of two girls who sat next to him. They engaged in a boisterous back-and-forth debate. It’d only been a short while since I left Dread, but he already had a half-dozen empty cups in front of him.

  I squeezed in next to my cousin. The bartender slid me my usual—a cup of Beeston’s best honey mead. Our mead had a deep smoky golden color with entrancing greenish-yellow hues. I gave it a swirl to admire the way it coated a cup. The honeyed apple aroma took me back to good times here at the pub with the hints of citrus, aromatic herbs and ripe sweet fruit. Unable to wait any longer I took my mead completely to the head. It was sweet and strong with a slight burn that let you know it could take you exactly where you want to go.

  “Nectar of the gods,” I said. “Thorvald, another round for Dread and I please.”

  “It’s about time you got here,” Dread slurred. “I just schooled these ladies on how to wager and win. You know what cousin, I gots to commend you on the words you said earlier. They were so, so astute. You have never been more right about the fact that this mead right here can sure enough take away all, of your problems. You’re my main man, Raff.”

  Thorvald slid me two more tumblers. “Dread, I got a plan to get rid of all our problems for real.”

  Dread hit his forehead down on the bar.

  “No, really. Listen. We are going to put together Beeston’s first accredited questing team. You, me, and some of this village’s best talent on a run to take the Maze for some easy gold.”

  He squinted up at me. “You must be out your damn mind Raff. Beeston don’t have the resources.”

  “I’ve done some checking. To be considered for official accreditation we need three fighters, a thief, a magic user, and a sniffer. After we get that we just have to pass an interview with the odds maker at Lais Dijon Tavern in Trosworth. We will then be listed on the tote board there where all can bet on the death over-under number the odds maker sets.”

  “It’s a ridiculous idea Raff.” He lifted his head just long enough to take a swig from the fresh mug. “I know the odds maker there, he would laugh the very idea of a team from Beeston right out of his tavern.”

  I sucked down all of my mead, sliding deeper into a place of blissful optimism. “There’s gold to be made at this Dread, and I need gold for tuition, a lot of it. Accredited teams’ members making it back alive from the Maze are added to the quester-for-hire tote board in that tavern with one in-and-out mark. Once a quester is listed there, they earn a minimum six gold coins per day when hired. The more in-and-outs, the higher your rank, and the more gold per day you make on the job.”

  “I got a job Raff.” Dread gestured to the wall. “Look over at the Skepps tote board. I have studied all twenty-six bets available on it, and identified three sure winners. My job is professional gambler.”

  “Gambler is not a stable profession,” I said. “You’re a brilliant thief, and I’m an amazing fighter. All we need is some slick recruiting of the right people, and our fathers’ Cave Maze map. We’ll make history cousin, Beeston’s first accredited questing team.”

  A gambler near the Skeppers tote board laughed out loud and raised his mead up high. “Cheers to the magic user Zombo Packer! I knew he was going to win the scholarship!” The tote board moneychanger scooted the man three teetering stacks of gold coins for the winning wager.

  Dread chuckled as he watched the gambler collect his gold. “First things first cousin. It surely takes a whole lot more gold than what
we have to finance a questing team. If you don’t have no one to invest, then I have no interest.”

  “I’ve already taken care of that. On the way down here I recruited Chaz. He will be our second fighter.”

  “Chaz? Really? I hate that guy.”

  “I’m not fond of him either, but he’s one of the best fighters in town. He also has access to his family’s meadery gold. We got a few conditions to deal with, but he’s willing to finance the whole thing. He was just as disappointed as me about the scholarship outcome.”

  Another mead slid my way. I snatched it up and took a quick gulp. “Chaz was not going to stay here in this village tending bees while I’m off coming up with enrolment gold. He was hesitant at first, but when I told him about the map, he was all to the in.”

  Dread took an obnoxious slurp of mead. “There you go Raff. I sincerely hope you’re not counting on our fathers’ map for this. You know it’s a myth, right? Just the thought of a map that leads to ‘a service entrance’ meant to bring supplies into the Maze’s creator is dumb.”

  I slammed my fist on the bar and the room went silent for a moment. I lowered my voice. “I got to see it once when I was little.”

  “Sure ya did.”

  I lean right up in his face. “I woke up one night because of some loud arguing. I peeked out of my room and watched our dads get into it about selling the map. Apparently, my dad had a few questing captains in a bidding war for it. He had an offer of one thousand gold coins, but your dad didn’t think that was enough. Uncle Mack went on and on about how unique and invaluable it was. He suggested that an entrance leading to an untapped area of the Maze should bring in a minimum of three thousand gold. I believe ‘Packed with gold-filled chests’, and ‘guarded by little to no opposition’ was what he said. If you know like I know, that sounds like a great place for us to start our cave maze questing career.”