Medieval Upheaval

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Medieval Upheaval Page 1

by Franklin W. Dixon




  CONTENTS

  1 JESTERS AND JOUSTERS

  2 RING ZINGER

  3 GRAND PRIZE GONER

  4 BELL BOY

  5 BRAVE THE CAVE

  6 THE PITS!

  7 A BLUE CLUE

  8 KNIGHT FRIGHT

  9 SPIN OR LOSE

  10 FIT FOR A KING

  HARDY BOYS COMIC STRIP

  1

  Jesters and Jousters

  Hey, Frank,” eight-year-old Joe Hardy called to his brother. “I just saw two knights in armor, a minstrel, a queen, and a court jester, all in the last five minutes!”

  “So?” Frank asked.

  “So are you sure we didn’t go back in time?” Joe asked with smile.

  Nine-year-old Frank pointed to a row of snack stands. “They didn’t have slushie machines and cotton candy in the Middle Ages, did they?” he asked.

  “I guess not!” Joe said.

  Joe really did know where they were. He and Frank were at the King Arthur Fair. The medieval fair came to Bayport every summer. That was when the park was made to look like a huge marketplace from the days of King Arthur.

  There were jugglers, puppeteers, and musicians, all dressed in medieval clothes. But there was only one special Kids Day—and that was today!

  “It’s cool that Aunt Gertrude left us on our own,” Frank said.

  Joe nodded. Aunt Gertrude was their dad’s sister who lived in the Hardys’ garage apartment. Their aunt was fun to be around, but it was also fun to be on their own!

  “Now we can do whatever we want here at the fair,” Joe said. “Like enter the Junior Joust. And run through the Medieval Maze!”

  “The Medieval Maze?” Frank said with a snort. “Your squirty legs will never get you over the muck pit at the end. You’ll be totally covered with mud!”

  “Maybe that’s what this fair needs,” Joe said with a shrug. “A medieval mud monster!”

  As the brothers walked on, they passed two knights in armor. One knight’s steely glove clanged as he waved.

  “We should have dressed up like knights, Frank,” Joe said. “Not in these dresses and tights!”

  “They’re called ‘tunics,’ ” Frank said. “And even knights wore them under their armor.”

  The brothers were about to check out an acrobat show when they heard the sound of laughter in the distance.

  “What’s going on?” Joe wondered.

  “There’s only one way to find out,” Frank said. “Let’s go!”

  Frank and Joe followed the sound to a stage set up between two trees. A banner hanging over the stage read JESTER JOKE SLAM.

  “That must be the joke contest!” Joe said. “The winner gets to be Junior Jester of the fair!”

  A boy stood onstage, already dressed like a jester. The bells on his cap and shoes jingled each time he moved.

  “Hey, I know him!” Frank said. “That’s Dougie Skulnick from my class.”

  A crowd of kids stood before the stage as Dougie shouted out a joke: “Why did King Arthur have a round table?”

  “So he wouldn’t get cornered!” a boy’s voice yelled out.

  Frank and Joe would have known that voice anywhere. It belonged to their friend Chet Morton. They turned to see Chet standing in the crowd next to his sister Iola.

  “Uh-oh,” Frank whispered. “Chet just gave away Dougie’s joke.”

  “Not cool,” Joe sighed.

  “Okay,” Dougie started again. “Why do dragons sleep during the day?”

  “So they can fight knights!” Chet shouted out. “Knights . . . nights . . . Yeah, we get it, Skulnick!”

  “We’d better stop Chet,” Frank told Joe.

  “Yeah,” Joe said. “Before he lands up in King Arthur’s dungeon!”

  Frank and Joe squeezed through the crowd of kids to Chet and Iola. Chet didn’t notice the Hardys at first. He was too busy eating a Popsicle and listening to Dougie’s next joke:

  “What did King Arthur’s knights use to get undressed?” Dougie shouted out. “They used—”

  “Can openers!” Chet yelled out. “That joke was on the back of my cereal box!”

  The crowd cracked up laughing. But Chet’s sister Iola looked mad.

  “Zip it, Chet,” Iola complained. “Yelling out the answers to jokes isn’t cool.”

  Chet pointed with his Popsicle stick to a gold crown on Iola’s head.

  “Just because you’re wearing a crown doesn’t make you queen,” Chet told his sister. “Besides, riddles are like mysteries—they’re meant to be solved.” He finished up his icy treat and noticed his friends.

  Chet smiled and waved at Frank and Joe. As detectives, the brothers knew a thing or two about mysteries. They had their own detective headquarters in their tree house, with a Secret Files board to write down all their suspects and clues.

  “You’ll be sorry, Morton!” Dougie shouted from the stage as the crowd kept laughing.

  “What a grouch,” Chet muttered as he bit the last Popsicle chunk off the stick.

  Dougie told his last joke, then left the stage. As another jester took his place, Iola began walking away too.

  “Where you going?” Chet called after Iola.

  “To look for my friends,” Iola called back. “At least they won’t embarrass me.”

  Joe looked beyond Chet’s shoulder and smiled. “Speaking of friends,” he said. “Here comes Phil.”

  Frank turned to see Phil Cohen walking over. Phil’s green feathered cap reminded Frank of Robin Hood.

  “Hi,” Frank said. He nodded at a blue sheet of paper in Phil’s hand. “What’s that?”

  “It’s a list for the Squire’s Scavenger Hunt,” Phil said, his eyes flashing. “I have to find everything on it in order to win.”

  “Cool,” Joe said.

  “Hey, I know!” Phil said. “Why don’t you guys join the scavenger hunt so we could be a team?”

  “Not unless there’s food on the list,” Chet said.

  “Frank and I can’t either,” Joe said. “We’re entering the Junior Joust Competition.”

  “Joust?” Phil said, his eyes widening. “You mean you’re going to knock each other off horses with those long spearlike things?”

  “They’re called lances,” Frank said. “And you’re talking about the real knights’ joust that’s later today.”

  “We’re entering the Junior Joust,” Joe explained. “We’re lancing a ring hanging from a tree. And our horse is a fake horse pulled with a rope.”

  “The best part is the grand prize,” Frank said. “The winner and a couple of friends get to watch the knights’ joust with King Arthur himself!”

  “Why don’t you enter the Junior Joust, Phil?” Joe asked. “You like figuring things out. Maybe you can figure out how to lance the ring!”

  “Thanks, but I’ll pass,” Phil said. “I want to find the first thing on this list. It’s a Popsicle stick.”

  Chet handed Phil his Popsicle stick and said, “Consider it found!”

  “Thanks, Chet!” Phil said happily. He dropped the wooden stick into his pocket, gave a wave, and hurried off.

  “Huzzah!” a voice boomed.

  Frank, Joe, and Chet turned to see a fair crier wearing a colorful banner over his tunic. On it were the words JUNIOR JOUST.

  “Come ye all to the Junior Joust!” the crier shouted as he walked by. “Don’t be late, or suffer the fate!”

  “The Junior Joust,” Frank said excitedly. “This is it, Joe!”

  “Chet, are you in too?” Joe asked.

  “Sure,” Chet said. He nodded at the next jester on the stage. “These jokes are as old as King Arthur himself!”

  The brothers and Chet followed signs to the joust track. Once there, they saw a fake hor
se tethered to a rope. The track ran under a row of trees. From one tree dangled a gold ring.

  A bunch of kids had already lined up. Frank, Joe, and Chet grabbed places at the back of the line. The contest was about to start when—

  “Hey!” Joe complained.

  Three taller boys pushed past Frank, Joe, and Chet. When the Hardys and Chet saw who the taller boys were, they frowned.

  The biggest guy was Adam Ackerman, the bully of Bayport Elementary School. Standing with Adam were his friends Tony Riccio and Seth Darnell. All three wore belted medieval tunics and sneaky smiles.

  “What do you want, Adam?” Frank asked.

  “I want you to step aside,” Adam declared. He narrowed his eyes and added, “Or prepare to face our wrath!”

  2

  Ring Zinger

  Frank, Joe, and Chet traded frowns. This wasn’t the first time Adam had tried to spoil their fun.

  “What are you doing here, Ackerman?” Joe said. He pointed to the stuffed fake horse. “This game already has a horse’s butt.”

  “Very funny!” Adam said. He stood over Joe, glaring down into his eyes.

  CLANG, CLANG, CLANG!

  The boys glanced sideways to see that a figure dressed in full armor was lumbering straight toward them. His face was covered with a visor, and his helmet was topped with a red plume.

  “It’s one of the knights!” Chet said.

  The knight stopped before Adam and put his steely hands on his hips. Adam stared at the knight, then stepped away from Joe.

  “Who needs this dumb game anyway?” Adam grumbled. He turned to his friends and said, “Let’s get out of here.”

  “Good idea,” Frank said.

  Adam, Seth, and Tony stomped away. But before Joe could thank the knight, he was gone!

  “Who was that guy, anyway?” Chet asked.

  “Must be our lucky knight,” Joe said with a smile. “I think I shall call him Sir Thanksalot!”

  The line moved quickly, but not quickly enough. Frank, Joe, and Chet couldn’t wait to get their hands on the lance!

  But not every kid was able to compete. A pair of twins stood arguing with the squire in charge of the game.

  “Why can’t we play?” one boy cried.

  “You’re too young for this contest,” the squire said. “And too small.”

  “Then give us a bigger stick!” the other boy demanded.

  “Rules are rules,” the squire told the twins.

  Frank, Joe, and Chet recognized the twins. They were Matty and Scotty Zamora. The Zamora family owned the best pizza parlor in Bayport.

  “I heard the Zamoras have a pizza stand here at the fair,” Frank said. “They even have some kind of contest.”

  “What kind of contest?” Joe asked.

  “The kid who pulls a sword out of a giant hunk of cheese wins free pizza for a month,” Frank explained.

  “Free pizza for a month?” Chet exclaimed. He nodded at the joust. “And they call this the grand prize?”

  The boys inched their way to the front of the line. It was Frank’s turn first. He climbed up onto the fake horse and grabbed the lance.

  “Charge!” Frank shouted when he was ready.

  A man dressed as a medieval stableman stood at the other side of the track. He pulled the rope attached to the horse. The fake horse jerked forward, then took off.

  “Go, Frank!” Joe cheered as the horse carried Frank down the track. Frank aimed his lance at the ring dangling from the tree, but he missed.

  “Rats!” Frank complained.

  Next was Joe’s turn.

  “Watch this!” Joe said as he climbed up onto the horse. But when he aimed his lance at the ring, he missed too.

  “It’s harder than it looks, Chet,” Joe said as he jumped down from the horse.

  “No problem. I’ve got this!” Chet said as he climbed up. He grabbed the lance and shouted, “Chaaaaaaarge!”

  Frank and Joe watched Chet ride the fake horse down the track. As he neared the ring, he coolly lifted the lance and—

  “He nailed it!” Joe shouted.

  “Chet was the first to lance the gold ring!” Frank cheered. “He won the grand prize!”

  The crowd cheered as Chet hopped off the horse. The gold ring circled the lance as he waved it high in the air.

  “How did you do it, Chet?” Frank asked.

  “Easy,” Chet said with a smile. “I pictured the ring as a chocolate glazed donut with sprinkles!”

  But not everyone was happy for Chet.

  “It’s not fair!” Scotty complained. “We didn’t even get a chance!”

  “We would have won if it wasn’t for him!” Matty said, pointing at Chet.

  “Come back after you’ve grown a few inches,” Joe suggested.

  The twins scowled at Joe, then walked away.

  “Hold on to that ring,” the squire told Chet, “and present it to King Arthur at the knights’ joust later.”

  “You mean the big joust with real knights?” Chet exclaimed. “Awesome.”

  Frank, Joe, and Chet left the jousting track.

  “What should we do next?” Joe asked.

  “Let’s try the sword-in-the-cheese contest with the free pizza prize,” Chet suggested. “I’m feeling lucky!”

  “You mean hungry!” Frank teased.

  The boys followed signs to the Royal Food Court. On the way they passed a life-size game of chess, a juggler juggling fiery torches, and a parade of giant puppets. Once at the food court Chet followed the cheesy pizza smells to the Zamoras’ stand.

  Behind the stand stood nine-year-old Daisy Zamora, helping her parents. Daisy was a fourth grader at Bayport Elementary School just like Frank and Chet.

  “Sorry your brothers didn’t get the ring,” Joe said to Daisy.

  Daisy rolled her eyes as she busily handed out pizza slices.

  “They said they were going to some pie eating contest, so they are already over it,” Daisy said. “As if they aren’t messy enough!”

  “Pies sound good to me too,” Chet said. “But where can we find that sword-in-the-cheese contest?”

  “Right in the back!” Mr. Zamora called over his shoulder as he flipped a huge slab of dough in the air.

  “Good luck,” Daisy said with a smile. “You’re going to need it!”

  Frank, Joe, and Chet walked around to the back. They saw a huge hunk of cheese held to the ground by spikes and ropes. Sticking out of the cheese, handle-side up, was a sword!

  “I’ll go first,” Chet said. He handed Frank the gold ring. “Hold my grand prize while I try.”

  Frank and Joe stood under a shady tree while Chet stepped up to the cheese. He shook out his shoulders and spit on both hands. Then, feet spread apart, Chet grabbed the handle tight.

  “Go, Chet!” Joe cheered.

  Chet grunted as he pulled and pulled. The cheese shook, but the sword refused to budge!

  “Here,” Frank said, giving the ring to Joe. “Hold this while I help Chet.”

  “Go for it,” Joe said.

  Holding the prize gold ring, Joe sat down under the tree. He watched as his brother and friend struggled with the sword.

  Joe wanted to help too, but what would he do with the ring? Glancing up, Joe saw a tree branch over his head.

  “Perfect!” Joe said. He stood up on his toes to reach the branch. After slipping the ring onto it, he ran over to the cheese.

  “Let me try!” Joe said.

  Now three pairs of hands clutched the handle. Frank, Joe, and Chet grunted as they pulled at the stubborn sword.

  “Hey,” a voice called.

  Frank, Joe, and Chet looked up. It was their friend Phil Cohen again.

  “Want some help?” Phil asked.

  “Thanks . . . but . . . we . . . got . . . this!” Chet grunted.

  “Okay,” Phil said before walking away. “Good luck!”

  “We’ve . . . heard . . . that . . . before!” Joe grunted.

  The Hardys and Chet tri
ed some more. Joe stuck his foot onto the cheese for support. No matter how hard they pulled, they couldn’t get the sword out of the cheese!

  After another minute the boys gave up.

  “I thought I was lucky!” Chet groaned.

  “Cheer up, Chet,” Joe said. “You can’t be the big cheese every time.”

  “Cute,” Chet laughed. “Okay, where’s my prize ring?”

  Joe turned to point at the tree.

  “It’s right over th—” Joe stopped midsentence. His jaw dropped. The grand prize gold ring that he’d hung on the tree was gone!

  3

  Grand Prize Goner

  Um . . . it was over here,” Joe said, rushing to the empty tree branch. “Maybe it fell off!”

  Joe’s heart pounded as he looked down. There was no gold ring on the ground anywhere!

  “What are you talking about, Joe?” Chet said. “I gave the gold ring to Frank, not you.”

  “I gave it to Joe, Chet,” Frank said. “So I could help you with the sword.”

  “And I hung it on this tree branch so I could help too,” Joe said. “But it’s not here.”

  “Then where’d it go?” Chet cried. “How could you have put it somewhere for anyone to steal, Joe?”

  “You think somebody stole it?” Joe said, wide-eyed.

  “Who wouldn’t want the grand prize?” Chet wailed. “Thanks a lot, Joe. Now we’ll never see the joust with King Arthur.” Chet shook his head in disbelief. Then, without saying good-bye, he walked away.

  “I should have held on to that ring,” Frank said.

  “And I shouldn’t have hung it on that branch,” Joe muttered. “Now I lost the grand prize and our friend!”

  “Who said the ring is lost?” Frank said, turning to Joe. “I think it was stolen too, just like Chet said.”

  “What do we do about it?” Joe asked.

  “We find the ring before the knights’ joust, that’s what,” Frank said. “But first we find the thief. ”

  Joe cracked a small smile. He knew what that meant. The Hardy brothers were on the case!

  “Let’s go back to our tree house, Frank,” Joe said. “We can write our suspects and clues on our Secret Files board. We can ask Dad for help too.”

  Frank gave it a thought. Fenton Hardy ran a busy detective agency but was never too busy to help them with their cases. Their mom Laura was a real estate agent. She knew every block in Bayport, which also came in handy.

 

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