The Ghost of Sir Herbert Dungeonstone (4 page)

BOOK: The Ghost of Sir Herbert Dungeonstone
2.63Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads
“Be gone, Dungeonstone!” Mordred shouted as he ran. “Scat! Shoo! Back to your tomb, I say!”
The ghost’s banging did not wake more DSA lads. But the bellowing headmaster did. Now dozens of lads were staring down from the top of the staircase.
Mordred glanced up as he ran.
“Back...to...bed...lads,” he panted. “Go...on!” On he ran, the floating armor hot on his heels.
A peal of ghostly laughter rang out.
Up on the staircase, Torblad suddenly flew into the air.
“Whoaaaaa!” he cried as he was lifted higher and higher. He grabbed the chandelier and clung to it for dear life.
Now Baldrick was whisked into the air. He soared over Wiglaf’s head, then dropped to the floor.
“Owie!” cried Baldrick.
“I can’t watch.” Mordred shielded his eyes with his bear.
“Help! Help!” cried Torblad, still clutching the chandelier. “DSA is haunted!”
Chapter 9
 
 
 
 

B
lazing King Ken’s britches!” cried Mordred. He turned and fled into his office.
Wiglaf, Angus, and Erica came after him.
Mordred sped through a connecting door into his bedroom. The others followed.
A gold-trimmed suit of armor stood at the head of a fancy red bed. Mordred jumped under his covers. He cradled his bear in his arms. “Everything will be all right,” he whispered to his bear. “Yes, it will.”
A wide-eyed Lady Lobelia rushed in. She was wearing a fuzzy yellow robe.
“Is the sky falling?” she cried. “Have the peasants revolted? What in the name of Saint George’s mustache is going on out there?”
“It is Herbert Dungeonstone’s ghost, Auntie,” said Angus. “He is tearing down our school!”
“But why?” said Lobelia. “He helped to found DSA. Isn’t that right, Mordie?”
“It’s a long story, sister,” Mordred said quickly. “The point is, the knave is after my gold!” He sat up in his bed. “Let us flee, Lobelia. You and me! I’ll pack up my gold, and we’ll hit the road!”
Lobelia folded her arms. “No,” she said. “I put the good of the school before my own good. Or yours, Mordie.”
“Oh, bother.” Mordred sank back against his silken pillows.
“We must get rid of this ghost,” said Lobelia. “I’ll go get some garlic.”
“That’s for vampires, Auntie,” said Angus.
“Ah,” said Lobelia. “Then we must expose the ghost to sunlight.”
“That’s werewolves,” said Wiglaf.
“Shall we ring bells and clang gongs?” asked Lobelia.
Erica shook her head. “Demons.”
A terrible crash sounded outside the room.
Lobelia winced. “If the castle does collapse, I don’t want to be caught in my robe!” She hurried off to her chamber.
“Lads,” said Mordred, “you seem to know a great deal about getting rid of monsters.”
“I have a book on it,” Angus said.
“Tell me—how do we get rid of this blasted ghost?” asked Mordred.
Angus shook his head. “Ghosts are nearly impossible to get rid of, Uncle,” he said. “Just give Dungeonstone your gold.”
The loudest crash yet thundered. Mordred leaped out of bed. They all hurried from the room to see what had happened.
Wiglaf froze at the scene that met his eyes.
The entire entryway ceiling had collapsed. Students were running through the rubble to get out of the castle.
“Help! Help!” lads cried as fiery torches zoomed after them, seemingly on their own.
Ghostly laughter filled the air.
Baldrick and others were lugging their trunks down the staircase, making an escape.
Up on the landing, the big Marley brothers had armed themselves with lances.
“Which way did he go?” called Barley.
“We’ll get him!” called Charlie.
“We’ll whack him!” called Farley.
“We’ll run him through!” called Harley.
A stream of DSA lads and teachers were running out to the castle yard.
“They’re heading for the gatehouse!” cried Erica. “But the drawbridge is up!”
“There is no way out of DSA except swimming the moat,” cried Wiglaf.
“Ugh!” said Angus. “It’s full of eels and much scarier than any ghost.”
“Come on!” said Erica. And they all ran into the castle yard. The headmaster came, too, lugging his teddy bear.
In the moonlight, Wiglaf saw a few brave lads holding their noses and jumping into the moat.
“Where is that ghost?” bellowed Mordred. “Just let me get my hands on him!”
“Right here!” cried Dungeonstone. And he appeared, glowing against the starry sky. The red brew still sloshed around in his gut.
“Help, help! A ghost!” bawled lads and teachers alike. Many ran back into the castle.
“This is the tip of the iceberg,” said the ghost of Herbert Dungeonstone. “I’ll bring the whole place down unless I gets me gold!”
“Never!” cried Mordred. “Never!”
Dungeonstone flitted over to the scrubbing block and scooped up a dirty pot. He hurled it against the castle wall. BAM!
Amid the shrieks and pandemonium, a large, fully armored figure strode silently out of the DSA castle. He wore a helmet with the visor down, hiding his face.
“Who is that?” asked Wiglaf.
“Coach Plungett?” said Angus.
“No, he’s by the gatehouse,” said Wiglaf.
The figure carried a lance.
“I know!” said Erica. “I bet it’s Harley Marley!”
The armored knight made his way down the steps, shaking his lance at the ghost.
“Oh, you wants a fight, do you?” cried Dungeonstone. “You’ll be sorry!”
The ghost gave a shrill whistle and called, “Come, Daggertooth!” A wind rose, and out of the sky came a great winged dragon’s ghost.
Students and teachers screamed in fear. They ducked, covering their heads.
The dragon ghost flew down and landed beside Dungeonstone, who hopped onto its back. The creature let out a terrible roar. Ghostly plumes of smoke poured from its nostrils.
The armor-clad knight advanced on the mounted Dungeonstone, waving the lance.
“That’s the way, Harley!” cried Erica.
“Get him, Harley!” cried Angus.
Wiglaf was speechless. He had never seen anyone so brave as Harley Marley.
Daggertooth spread his wings and took off. He swooped down so that Dungeonstone could take a whack at the knight with his sword.
Harley dodged the first blow but not the next.
The sword crashed down on the knight’s helmet. He sank to the ground.
The dragon ghost slowly circled above, and Dungeonstone laughed. “Anyone else want to fight?” he cried.
“No! No!” cried the students.
“Yes!” cried Mordred. “Go on, pupils! Fight him! Drive him away!”
Wiglaf, Angus, and Erica ignored Mordred and ran to the fallen knight.
“Help me get his helmet off,” said Erica. Angus and Wiglaf took hold of the helmet, too. They pulled and wiggled and at last it popped off.
“Egad!” cried Angus.
“Zounds!” cried Erica.
Wiglaf stared in awe. The brave student wasn’t Harley Marley, after all. Wiglaf was staring down at the face of Janice Smotherbottom. Her lips curved up in a strange smile. Her eyes were shut.
She was out cold.
Chapter 10
 
 
 
 

I
anice is very brave!” said Wiglaf.
“And very knocked-out,” said Erica. “Look at that bump on her head. Let’s get her into the castle.”
The three picked her up.
“She’s very heavy,” said Angus as they struggled up the steps and into the castle.
They carried Janice into Mordred’s bedroom. Wiglaf took the wad of green gum from her mouth and stuck it on Mordred’s bedpost.
“Uncle Mordred won’t mind,” said Angus. “No,” said Wiglaf, fanning Janice. “After all, she was trying to get rid of the ghost.”
Erica sighed. “Janice won’t want to stay at DSA now. And I can’t blame her.”
Wiglaf said, “Maybe we should summon Zelnoc. Maybe he can get rid of the ghost.”
“But Zelnoc is the world’s worst wizard,” said Erica.
Wiglaf shrugged. “What else can we do?”
Another crash sounded in the castle yard. Angus ran outside to see what was going on. He ran back, panting for breath.
“The castle yard is a wreck!” he said. “Dungeonstone’s ghost has smashed our practice dragon to bits. Now he’s headed for the jousting scarecrow.”
Wiglaf wasted no time. He chanted the wizard’s name backwards three times: “Conlez, Conlez, Conlez!”
Mordred’s bedroom quickly filled with purple smoke.
As it cleared, Wiglaf made out a thin, white-bearded man wearing a pointed cap. A large black bird sat on his left shoulder.
“Zelnoc!” said Wiglaf.
“Wiglip?” The wizard waved away the remaining smoke. “Ah, there you are. Have you met my familiar?” He nodded toward the crow. “This is George, my new helper in all things magical. Well, what’ll it be this time, Waglaf? George will help me grant your every wish. Won’t you, George?”
The wizard reached up to stroke George. But the creature pecked his hand.
“Ow!” Zelnoc cried. “You nasty nipper!”
George began grooming his feathers.
“Excuse me, sir,” said Wiglaf. “We need help. A ghost is trying to destroy our school.”
George suddenly spread his wings. He flew over and perched on the helmet of a suit of armor. He began picking at the gold trim.
“Warts and toadstools!” exclaimed the wizard. “George isn’t bonding with me like
The Wizard Handbook
said he would.”
“Can you get rid of the ghost, Zelnoc?” asked Erica. “Before he brings down the whole school?”
Zelnoc drummed his fingers on his cheek. “Ever play Rock, Dagger, Parchment?” he asked. “You know. Rock.” The wizard made a fist. “Dagger.” He stuck out his pointer finger. “Parchment.” He flattened out his hand. “Rock smashes Dagger, Dagger cuts Parchment, Parchment covers Rock.”
“We know how to play the game,” said Wiglaf. “But we don’t know how to get rid of this ghost.”
“That’s what I’m getting at,” said Zelnoc. “You see, wizards can get rid of witches. Witches can get rid of ghouls. Ghouls can get rid of bats. Bats can get rid of bugs. Bugs can get rid of damsels. Damsels can get rid of trolls. Trolls can—”
“Stop!” cried Erica. “Does this have anything to do with ghosts?”
Zelnoc looked thoughtful. “I’m not sure it does,” he said. “Except to say that there’s no other monster, demon, etc. that can get rid of a ghost.”
“Isn’t there any way you can help us, wizard?” asked Wiglaf.
“I could chant the general ghost-be-gone spell,” Zelnoc said. “It’s never worked for me. But there’s always a first time. George? How about some help?”
The crow ignored Zelnoc and continued to groom its glossy feathers.
“All right, here goes.” The wizard closed his eyes and chanted:
“Protoplasmic spirit who
Walks through walls and shouts out BOO,
Phantom zombie pale and wan,
Ghost! I say to you, BE GONE!”
A flash of lightning lit the early morning sky. Wiglaf felt the room grow cold.
“Oops!” said Zelnoc.
The room grew colder still.
“What do you mean, oops?” said Erica.
“I think I’ll be going now,” said Zelnoc. “Come, George!”
The crow began screeching and cawing.
“Wait, wizard!” cried Wiglaf.
But purple smoke was already filling the air. Wiglaf could not see a thing.
Erica’s voice carried over George’s caws: “I knew this was a bad idea!”
At last, the smoke faded. Zelnoc and his crow were gone.
But Wiglaf’s eyes grew wide. For in the wizard’s place stood another ghostly knight!
“Sir—Sir Ichabod Popquiz?” asked Wiglaf.
Did they now have two robber ghosts loose in their school?
Angus pointed to the ghost. “I know you!” he cried. “You’re Sir Jeffrey Scabpicker!”
Chapter 11
 
 
 
 

Z
ee name,” said the ghost, floating toward them, “ees French. You say like thees: scah-peek-AY. You try eet.”
“Scah-peek-AY,” murmured the three.
“Bon!”
The ghost kissed the tips of his fingers. “Now tell me, why haf I been called from my peaceful eternal rest?”
“Sir Jeffrey was married to Auntie Lobelia,” Angus told the others before bowing politely to the new ghost. “We need help, sir,” he said, “to get rid of Herbert Dungeonstone’s ghost. He’s wrecking our school.”
“The fiend!” cried Sir Jeffrey. He drew his sword. “I shall right thees wrong! I shall send heem back to hees grave! But first, I must see my lovely Lady Lobelia.”
“Couldn’t you see her after you get rid of the ghost, Sir Jeffrey?” asked Angus. “He’s really doing a job on this old castle.”
“No, no, no.” Sir Jeffrey wagged a finger at them. “That weel never do. A proper knight must be sent into battle by a fair damsel. Lady Lobelia weel geev to me a love token. A perfumed hankie, perhaps. Or one of her hair ribbons. Thees token I weell tuck into my armor, next to my heart. Then, and only then, weel I go into battle!”
“All right,” said Angus. “Let’s go.”
“Wait,” said Wiglaf. “Sir Jeffrey, if the other students see you...”
“Ah, I weel frighten them, no? How ees thees?” Sir Jeffrey vanished.
“Janice will be safe here,” said Wiglaf.
The three pupils and the invisible ghost left the headmaster’s bedroom. They made their way through falling stones and flying armor to Lady Lobelia’s door.
Angus knocked. “We must be ready to catch her if she faints,” he told his friends.
Lady Lobelia opened the door.
Just then, Sir Jeffrey reappeared.
BOOK: The Ghost of Sir Herbert Dungeonstone
2.63Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Hit: A Thriller (The Codename: Chandler) by Konrath, J.A., Peterson, Ann Voss, Kilborn, Jack
Guardian Angel by Trebus, David
Alejandro by Chase, K. Victoria
Circle of Flight by John Marsden
Men in the Making by Bruce Machart
Easy Day for the Dead by Howard E. Wasdin and Stephen Templin
Whitechapel Gods by S. M. Peters