A Tricksy Wizard's Cave

inspired by the Writer's Circle #8 challenge of 8-2002, but not finished in time to enter ... still won't keep me from writing it.

A Tricksy Wizard's Cave

         "It started out when I came to this large cave in the side of the sheer rock wall, just outside Crowleydale. I never seen the likes of it ever in my life, though I’ve traveled these lands nigh on to twenty years."

         Harman Bentwither sipped the ale Farlus Scrimhill had generously purchased. He looked up at the mysterious tone that conveyed the words, ..."I never seen the likes of it ever in my life..."

         Harman loved a good tale as well as the next Hobbit and half of what Farlus said was believable. Still, Harman couldn't hold back his doubt. Farlus was good at sucking him into a yarn and though he didn't mind all that much, he didn’t want to appear too gullible while he drank.

         "What was so all fired strange about this cave in a cliff, Farlus. I mean, given old water routes and not to mention all the Dwarves digging here and there on a mere whim of precious ore, any cliff would be strange not to sport a cave or two."

         Harmen knew his quick words hit a nerve. Farlus had the hurt expression of someone who unexpectedly closed his fingers in a door.

         "Now why you make a comment like that? This cave was strange, not because it was there. It wasn't strange because of how it got there. This cave was strange because of what was inside it."

         Harman took a long savoring suck from his tipped pint. Then he looked up, wiped the foam from between lip and nose and nodded with resignation. He realized he was in for one of Farlus's more outlandish tales. This promised to be at least a three pinter

         Farlus took a slow drink from his own pint, wetting his throat.

         "Have you heard of the old Wizard Beolagh (BOW-la)?"

         Harman slowly shook his head.

         Farlus leaned forward in a conspiratory whisper that forced Harman to lean over the table to hear. "He is of a mystical type, this wizard. No one has heard of him and no one knows from whence he came. I have mentioned his name some dozen times and no one has even a pin prick notion who the bugger may be."

         Harman found himself frowning at the obvious. All wizards were of the mystical type. Except, no wizard ever went completely unnoticed anywhere for any length of time. That no one would know of one being around, that was a mystery to contemplate. Harman found himself whispering, "Really now?"

         "You can spit on my Grandpap’s grave that I speak the truth." Farlus imitated spitting to the left side of his chair. He leaned back and smiled.

         Harman's eyes reflected the interest his friend's oath sparked. Farlus never swore upon his Grandpap lightly. The oath was a sure sign there was a measure of truth in what he said.

         “So what was it that you found in the cave?”

         Harman watched his old friend as he opened his mouth and then shut it again. Harman put down his pint and frowned. Farlus never stalled once his audience asked the crucial question beginning a yarn.

         “Farlus?”

         Farlus shook his head and pushed his chair back from the table. “I can’t bring myself to tell you, Harm old friend. You won’t believe the half of it and that would most likely be the half that would be needing believed.” Farlus stood, buttoned his vest, then reached for his jacket hanging on a peg under the window.

         Harman stood, looked at his friend, then at the unfinished ale, then back at his friend. “But, Farley old man, you can’t start a yarn and then drop it before you even begin.” Harman’s voice sounded plaintive to his own ears. He looked away as the color rose in his cheeks. If Farlus wanted him to beg for the story, he’d succeeded nicely.

         Farlus paused with one arm in the sleeve of his coat. “That is precisely my point. You think it is a yarn I am weaving for your entertainment. Well it isn’t. You won’t believe what I have to tell and I won’t waste my breath just to be patronized at the end.”

         Harmon closed his mouth as he watched Farlus stride toward the inn door. He grabbed his own coat from a nearby wall peg, finished the ale in one long pull, then ran after Farlus.

         A boisterous group of young Hobbits poured into the inn just as he arrived at the door. Harman craned his neck to see if Farlus was still within sight but could not see him anywhere. He humphed under his breath as the flow of thirsty Hobbits seemed to never stop. Harman managed to divert his impatient energy by putting on his coat. By the time he buttoned the last button, the door was clear for his passage. He burst into the midmorning sunlight nearly running into Farlus who was looking up at a cloudless sky.

         “What took you so long?”

         “What do you mean, what took me so long? You go rushing out
and the crowd comes rushing in and...”

         Farlus smiled. “You don’t need to shout, Harm. I’m standing right next to you.”

         “I-I don’t need to...Why you... Good day to you Farlus Scrimhill.” Harman turned and marched away from the Singing Lyre Inn and his annoying friend. He stopped when laughter erupted behind him.

         “Well, you don’t need to glare daggers at me, Harm. If you want to know what I found in that cave and how Beolagh is tied into all this and to find out who this Beolagh is, well, my friend, how about you come with me and I will show you.”

         “Come with you? To Crowleydale? Why would I do that?”

         Farlus sauntered toward Harman. “Why? So you will know I didn’t make up the tale. I want you to know that this time the unbelievable really happened.”

         Harman looked around to make sure Farlus wasn’t talking to someone else. “Now you know I’m not that kind to go trapsing about the countryside.”

         “You got cousins in Crowleydale don’t you?”

         “You know I do.”

         “Well, you visit them from time to time don’t you?”

         “FARLUS!”

         “Well, don’t you?”

         “Yes.”

         “So why is heading toward Crowleydale considered trapsing around the countryside?”

         Harman forced his mouth closed and shrugged his shoulders.

         “All I am asking is that you go only part way to Crowleydale and check out this cave I found. Is that really too much?”

         “I suppose not. What is in this cave that you can’t tell me about it?”

         “Come and I will show you.”

         “Oh, show me then.”

         Farlus grinned his triumph as he turned toward Crowleydale. Harman looked around the quiet street of Maritton, scowled at the confident back of his friend; then with a surrendering sigh, hurried after Farlus.

***

         “There it is.”

         Harman looked along Farlus’s arm and finger pointing about midway up a rocky cliff face. “How do we get up there? I’m not a Billy goat.”

         “There’s a walkable path that goes right to it.”

         Farlus was off before Harman could protest. “Oh, Orc dung!” He finished wiping his damp forehead with a handkerchief before following.

         Harman was nearly caught up to Farlus when he looked back along the well marked path. To his surprise, he was already midway up the cliff face and almost to his destination. He wasn’t out of breath nor had he once had to traverse any treacherous footing along the path. Farlus waited for him at the cave opening.

         “That’s strange.”

         “What?”

         “The path is too convenient.”

         Farlus grinned. “You noticed that, too?”

         Harman stared back at his friend but decided Farlus wasn’t implying he was less than intelligent. “Well, we’re here and the cave is right there. Are there torches?”

         Farlus nodded his head as he unwound a stout cord from around his waist. “Here, tie this around your waist and I will secure the other end around my waist. You can light a torch, but I assure you, it won’t help to see.”

         After tying off his end of the cord, Farlus grabbed a torch lying just inside the mouth of the cave. Harman followed his friend’s example. As he lifted the torch off the ground it lit into a red-orange flame of it’s own volition.

         “What the..”

         “Oh yes, the torches are enspelled. As soon as you lift them they burn.”

         “But, I thought you said they wouldn’t stay lit.”

         “No, I said they wouldn’t be much help to see where we are going.”

         Farlus entered into the darkness. Harman watched as the torch and his friend vanished. Then he felt the tug on the cord around his waist. Harman held the torch forward over his head, hunched as if ducking under a low eave and stepped into pitch blackness. After two steps he planted his feet and yanked back on the cord. Harman felt dizzy and disoriented. He tried to step backward along the path, back into the light. The cord around his waist stayed taut but allowed him to move freely. After his fifth step backwards he still hadn’t reached the outside. Harman turned and waved the torch in a circle. He could have sworn he only took a couple steps into the cave, but no matter which direction he traveled he never found the opening. His torch was no help as Farlus had said. It lit him up nicely but the cave walls seemed to take the light in without reflecting any of it back.

         “FARLUS!”

         Harman’s voice sounded flat to his ears. He realized there was no sound outside his own breathing and heartbeat. He gathered the cord trying to pull Farlus to him when it went limp in his hands. In his panic, he dropped the torch and it went out.

         “FARLUS!”

         Harman’s knees went weak and he sat hard on the cave floor. “Oh Farlus, why did I let you talk me into this?” Groping in the darkness, Harman grasped the handle to the torch. He lifted it up and it lit. He sighed his relief when tension returned to the cord about his waist. He stood to let the cord guide him through the blackness.

         “FARLUS!”

         Harman took a hurried step forward and flattened his face into a hard unyielding rock wall. Tears slid down his scraped cheeks as he used his free hand to guide himself along the cave passage. It took him forever after many deadends where he had to retrace his steps before his torch illuminated Farlus’s face.

         “FARLUS!”

         “You don’t have to shout, Harm. I’m right here.”

         “BUT... But you weren’t there. I was alone. The rope went slack and I was completely lost.”

         Farlus frowned at Harman. “I don’t know what you are talking about. I guided you right through the maze. The rope never went slack on my end.”

         “But...”

         “Well, we are done with that section. You need to stay close on this next section. It can get kind of tricky with the footing.” Farlus turned and lead the way.

         Harman squeezed himself behind Farlus paying heed not to drop his torch. When he cleared the fissure, Harman’s gaze spanned from his friend’s broad grin to a staircase drifting by. What he beheld in the cavern took his breath away. He watched as sections of space traveled independent from the bonds of another section right next to it. Walls tilted and became ceilings with doorways making sky windows. Ceiling sections became walls with chandeliers sticking out rigidly as if the pull of gravity were turned laterally rather than down. Some ceiling sections became floors with the pull of gravity going up. Harman sat down and watched the random movements of all the natural laws he’d trusted never to change.

         “Isn’t this the most amazing room you have ever seen?”

         “Amazing? How are we suppose to... Can we just go back the other way and forget about going through this cave?”

         Farlus looked at Harman and shook his head.

         “Don’t look at me like that, Farley. This is really too much. Let's just go back to the Singing Lyre and I promise to believe everything you tell me about this place.” Harman forced himself to his feet and started edging toward the fissure where they entered, only to discover it wasn’t where he’d left it.

         Farlus scratched his head and frowned. “I’m sorry old friend but I don’t think going backwards is an option. We go forward or we don’t get out.”

         “Where’s the place we came in at?”

         Um, I think it is over there, down and to our right.”

         “Down?” Harman looked to the right and sure enough the narrow opening was slowly moving and rotating away from them. At this point, Harman fell to hands and knees and wailed. His pudgy fists gripped sand and rock as if to anchor himself to the ground.

         “Hey now, there’s no use making all that racket. You aren’t going to go falling or flying off as long as you travel where the ground is at your feet. But, if you go there where that chandelier is standing straight up you best grab it and hang on tight or you might go for a fall, straight up.”

         Harman closed his eyes and whimpered.

         Farlus bent down and lifted Harman to his feet until their faces were inches away from each other. “Harm, open your eyes and look at me. That’s right, look right into my eyes. I will get you out of here. I been here before and I know some tricks. You have to stay close and follow what I do. Don’t lag. Trust me?”

         Harman couldn’t stop his trembling, but he managed to nod his head.

         “Good, here comes the staircase, when I say jump you gotta jump with me. Understand?”

         Harman nodded again and crouched.

         “Good, hold... Hold... Ready... JUMP!”

         Harman pushed himself from the sandy ground toward the stairway floating by just below. Farlus jumped the same time he yelled. That same instant, the staircase tumbled ninety degrees so both Harman and Farlus slammed into the wall about a foot above the steps. They both grunted from the unexpected landing.

         “Come on Harm, we got to go to the top of these stairs and try and reach that door above us.”

         Farlus started climbing the stairs. The cord still linking the two Hobbits helped pull Harman along. The pair maneuvered through the floating door successfully into a narrow hall. They traveled the length of the hall to grab a passing chandelier, to drop to another staircase and climb down to a large arched opening. Harman landed nimbly on his feet at the opening which Farlus declared was the exit from this topsy turvy cavern. He was about to step through the opening when Farlus pulled him back.

         “Not so fast, Harm. There is something you need to know about this next room.”

         Harman looked at Farlus with narrowed eyes.

         “There is a path illuminated by torches and you MUST stay on the lighted path. If you stay on the lighted path you will stay safe.”

         “Stay safe from what?”

         “Well, from undead creatures mainly, but there are also ogres and goblins and...”

         “Are you sure we can’t go backwards to the cave opening we came into?”

         “You will be safe, just stay on the lighted path. Understand? No matter what you see, do not leave the safety of the torch light.” Farlus grabbed Harman’s hand in a tight grip.

         “So we don’t get separated.”

         Harman nodded and swallowed with an audible gulp.

         “Stay with me.”

         Harman stepped closer to Farlus.

         “Good, here we go.”

         Farlus lead Harman through the opening. Farlus looked wide eyed around them. “This is new.”

         Harman looked around at the many crystaline structures and reflective surfaces cluttering the entire room. “New? What do you mean new?”

         “I didn’t encounter this place when I was here last time.”

         “It’s beautiful, Farley.”

         Farlus scratched his head and smiled. “Yes, it is quite sparkly. Come.”

         “Oh look! I’m tall and thin and,” Harman broke out in laughter, “you look like a squat dwarf.”

         Farlus pulled Harman along and laughed at his friend’s frown when he became shorter and fatter than he really was.

         “You don’t think we will stay like this do you?”

         “No, Harm, I’m sure once we get out of this passage we will be our old shapes again.”

         “Oh my! I’m an owl.”

         “Hey look Harm, I’m an Elf!”

         As the two friends walked past each mirrored surface they discovered new and some very absurd images representing them. Harman stopped laughing when he noticed that he slithered on the ground when his image in the enchanted mirror became a snake.

         “Letsssss get out of here.”

         “I’m trying friend, keep with me.”

         When Harman and Farlus came to another door they assessed themselves and each other to make sure they were their old shapes again. Both gave a sigh of relief and Farlus pushed open the wooden door before them. The hinges creaked ominously. Harman felt a shiver run down his spine and the hairs stand up on the tops of his feet.

         “Stay close. This is the room I warned you about.”

         “Oh my.”

         Farlus stepped onto the torch lit path with confidence. Harman followed. The two walked for several minutes without anything happening. Harman looked around and wondered what the big scare was. He caught the glint of gold just a little over arm’s length from the path. Harman stepped into the shadow to reach for the delicate chain shining so temptingly.

         “DON’T!”

         Harman looked at his friend who seemed further away than he should’ve been. He touched the golden chain only to fall back scrambling crabwise on hands and feet as a giant greyish grub-like creature erupted from the dirt. The golden chain turned into a segmented antennae where eyes would have appeared on a sighted creature. A huge maw opened up. As Harman scrambled backwards into the shelter of the torch light, the creature lunged down to take a bite.


         Farlus was at Harman’s side with both hands on his terrified friend’s shoulders. “Harm, you need to stay on the path.”

         Harman gulped and nodded. “What was that?

         “I think that was a carrion crawler. They commonly inhabit dark caves. I don’t think it was here the last time I came through, though. Beolagh must have added him while I was at the inn.”

         “Beolagh?”

         “Yes, you know the wizard I told you about.”

         “Oh, Beolagh.”

         “Come Harm, we are almost to the last passage.’

         Harman was trembling and having trouble standing, so Farlus hooked a hand under his friend’s armpit to guide him along.

         “When I came through here before, I stepped off the path and was nearly grabbed by a wight. The illusion was so real I can still smell it’s rotted flesh just thinking about it.”

         Harman clamped his teeth together to keep them from clacking.

         It wasn’t long when they arrived at an opening with a narrow ledge over looking a deep chasm. Farlus picked up a fist sized stone and threw it far out into the void. Harman stopped breathing, listening for the stone to strike. He had to take in air and he never heard that stone strike.

         “I think this is one of those bottomless chasms you hear about in tales.”

         Harman believed Farlus was correct in his guess.

         “We can’t go back, so how do we get across?”

         “There is a bridge just over there.”

         Harman followed Farlus along the narrow ledge to an old rope bridge.

         “Is it safe?”

         “Well, I think it is, but you don’t want to lose your footing. Use the upper ropes on each side as hand guides and slide your feet on the lower rope. Be careful not to make the bridge swing. I will go first to show you how.” As he talked, Farlus untied the cord from around his waist. He handed the coiled end to Harman.

         Harman watched Farlus inch his way slowly over the ropes while he secured the cord about himself. He felt a cold draft on the back of his neck and looked behind, along the narrow ledge. He screamed and scrambled onto the bridge in a frantic effort to get away from the monster emerging into the cavern.

         “SLOW DOWN, HARM! You’re swinging the bridge.”

         Harman gulped as he stopped his panicked movements. Farlus was about midway on the bridge swinging in a long arc back and forth.

         “I see it Harm, just move slow. Come friend, we are almost out of the cave. Don’t worry, that crawler can’t cross the bridge.”

         Harman’s hands were raw and his feet were cramping before he got to the other side of the bridge. When his feet stepped onto terra firma he collapsed in a heap too weak to muster the strength to stand for several minutes.

         Farlus sat beside his friend waiting. After several quiet minutes, Harman stood dusting himself off.

         “Farlus Scrimhill, get me back to the Singing Lyre and never, never make me experience one of your yarns again.”

         “Harm my friend, if I had told you about my experience here, would you've believed me?”

         Harman looked at his adventuring friend and realized that he wouldn’t have believed the half of it. He slowly shook his head. “Get me out of here.”

         “There is someone I need you to meet. Just one more thing to do and then we will return to Meritton.”

         “Well, one more thing then.”

         Farlus lead Harman over a metal grate in front of a lighted cave opening. Harman could hear crickets chirpng and quickened his step. He and Farlus let out a yelp of surprise just as they were blown off their feet by a whirl wind.

         Harman and Farlus heard quiet laughter as they picked themselves up in front of an old stooped shouldered man. Harman had never seen a human before, but he’d listened to many tales describing them. Still, the seeing was believing. Harman realized this man with the gold and green robes, grey matted beard and funny pointed hat must be Beolagh.

         “Well done master Farlus and Master Harm. Well, done indeed.”

         Farlus patted the dust from his outer coat. “Harman, the Wizard Beolagh. Beolagh, Harman Bentwither.

         “You have added some things since my last visit. The room of reflection was especially captivating.” Farlus climbed onto a chair.

         “I am glad you approve. It took some especially tricky enchantment spells to get some of the crystal surfaces to produce favorable effects.”

         Tell me, was I an Elf looking in the mirror or was the mirror simply
tricking my eyes.”

         Beolagh let out a hearty laugh. “My little friend, that enchantment was a trick on the eyes. But, when Harman saw the owl, he could have flown.”

         “Really now?”

         Harman fidgetted while he listened to the casual exchange between Wizard and Hobbit.

         “Here Master Harman, would you like a cake and hot tea?” Beolagh produced a plate with a slice of white cake and a small cup with steam rising.

         “Oh, I don’t wish to appear rude, kind Wizard, but I really must be getting back to Maritton.”

         “Really? I had hoped to get your opinion on my creation.”

         “You created this cave?”

         “No, not the cave but nearly everything in it. The carrion crawler was a bit of a surprise, though. He must have slipped past my safety barriers.”

         Farlus froze open mouthed, in mid-bite.

         Harman puffed himself up with indignation. “I knew it, I could have been killed!”

         “No, no, no, certainly I wouldn’t have allowed the creature to kill you. Your quick reaction did allow me to intervene without injuring the creature though, and for that I am thankful.

         “Are you sure you wouldn’t like some cake. It’s quite good.”

         “Just for what purpose have you contrived the, the fixtures in this cave? I really see no reason to have something so deceptive and dangerous so...”

         “My cave is not dangerous. There is nothing in it that will harm anyone who ventures inside. I admit the crawler found it’s way in, but I’ve taken steps to prevent any other unwanted creatures into my amusement maze.”

         “Amusement maze?”

         Beolagh cleared his throat. “Well, yes that is what I have decided to call it. Beolagh’s Amusement Maze. Farlus has assured me that many of the free folk in this area will come to my cave to explore. Maybe, many will come back to explore again.”

         Harman glared at his friend who was chewing the last bit of his cake. “Farlus, when the Shire father’s hear of this, you will be declared a disturber of the community.”

         “Oh Harman, calm yourself. Have some cake and think about what you did this day. There must have been a little something sparked inside you?”

         “I was scared out of my wits, Farlus. To what purpose would I ever wish to feel such terror? “

         “But you also witnessed the impossible and I know you liked the crystal cavern; well, most of it anyway.”

         Harman crossed his arms over his chest. Farlus was right about the crystal cavern. Also, he had felt a sense of accomplishment while they maneuvered through the random space shifting room. He’d gotten the hang of going from up gravity to side gravity and down so that toward the end he didn’t run into any walls at all. While he was thinking about it, he learned that even totally alone and frightened, he could take action to move forward and find himself out of even the darkest maze. He learned he can run from danger well enough to escape injury and he crossed that swinging nightmare of a bridge without falling.

         Beolagh and Farlus watched Harman. After a moment, Harman’s arms dropped to his side. Then he gave a slight shrug, sighed and climbed onto a chair. Beolagh slid a plate of cake toward Him.

         “I thank you for the cake. Now tell me, what would have happened if I had miss stepped my footing on the rope bridge?”

         Beolagh twirled a strand of beard around a finger. “Master Harman, you were never in any real danger. If you had fallen or slipped, the force of air that caught you at the end of the bridge would have dropped you where you landed at my feet.”

         “If there is no danger, then why would any adventuring soul go through the cavern more than once?”

         “They may go through the cavern again because every time is slightly different. Also, even though there is no danger of serious injury, there is a primal fear experienced when confronted by certain, say, surprises.”

         “I don’t understand what you get out of it. You’ve spent a lot of resources and don’t you spend a lot of energy maintaining your enchantments?”

         Beolagh smiled. “I enjoy watching the accomplishment achieved by timid folk. I admit, I enjoy a good laugh and hearing laughter. I think these caverns will be filled with shrieks and laughter combined once the free folk realize this place is safe and exciting. The magic energies are bound to the inorganic compounds of the cave itself, so I could die and the cave would continue to maintain some of it’s enchantments.”

         Harman wiped crumbs from the corners of his mouth. “You created this cave to hear laughter and to laugh?”

         “Yes.”

         “Unbelievable.”

         Farlus grinned and nodded. “Now you know why I could never just tell you about this place.”

         “I would not have believed the half of it.”

         Beolagh smiled and sipped his tea. “Master Hobbits, I’ve been thinking about making the rock around the cave in the resemblance of my face and the cave opening could be a mouth?”

         Farlus and Harman looked at Beolagh with wide eyes.

         “That wouldn’t be too obvious would it?”


         From the distant road near Crowleydale, the image of a laughing jester appeared etched on the side of a sheer rock cliff. Laughter echoed from the Jester’s mouth.

4672 WC