World's Oldest Living Dragon

Table of Contents

 

 

 

For the one-and-only Donn Nelson—K.M.

GROSSET & DUNLAP
Published by the Penguin Group
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Text copyright © 2006 by Kate McMullan. Illustrations copyright © 2006 by Bill Basso. All rights reserved. Published by Grosset & Dunlap, a division of Penguin Young Readers Group, 345 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014. DRAGON

SLAYERS' ACADEMY and GROSSET & DUNLAP are trademarks of Penguin
Group (USA) Inc. S.A.

Library of Congress Control Number: 2005026886

eISBN : 978-1-101-09902-5

Wiglaf slurped the eel soup that Frypot had overcooked for lunch. It wasn't as foul-tasting as his mother's cabbage soup, but it was a close second.

Erica carried her tray over to the Class I table. She looked glum.

“What's wrong?” Wiglaf asked as she sat down next to him.

“The new Sir Lancelot Catalog still hasn't come,” she said. “It should have been here weeks ago.” She sighed. “I've been saving up to buy another copy of
The Way of the Knight
. My old copy is totally worn-out.”

Just then, Lady Lobelia, clad in a gown of robin's-egg blue, clinked her spoon on her goblet. She stood up at her place at the head table. “I have an announcement!” she said.

The lads and lasses stopped whining about the food to listen.

“There is more to life than hacking and whacking, lads and lasses,” Lady Lobelia said. “There's also community service.”

“Uh-oh,” said Angus. He had gobbled up his eel soup, and was eyeing Wiglaf's bowl. “Sounds like more work.”

“But good work,” put in Erica. “We future dragon slayers must always help the less fortunate.”

Wiglaf shoved his soup over to the ever-hungry Angus. He glanced at Erica. It was just this sort of goody-goody talk that helped her keep the Future Dragon Slayer of the Month medal pinned to her DSA tunic month after month.

“At my old school,” said Janice, “we knitted foot warmers for retired executioners.”

“Every week,” Lobelia continued, “a group of students will visit Ye Olde Home for Aged Knights. I'll send the first group this afternoon.”

“Ye Olde Home is right outside Toenail!” exclaimed Torblad, who, as it happened, came from the village of Toenail.

“You can ask the aged knights about their glory days,” Lobelia went on. “Who knows? They may give you some valuable tips on dragon slaying.”

“And on grabbing dragon gold!” added DSA headmaster Mordred. He sat beside his sister Lobelia at the head table. “Don't forget the gold.”

“My Gramps used to live at Ye Olde Home,” Janice told the others at the Class I table. “But when Daddy struck it rich, he moved Gramps to Golden Years Palace. It's very fancy. Fair damsels take Gramps for walks in the garden. And he has his own jester who juggles and tells him jokes.”

Baldrick wiped his nose on his sleeve and raised his hand. “Do we have to go to Ye Olde Home?” he asked.

“Of course not,” said Lady Lobelia. “You can stay here and scrub pots.”

“I
want
to go!” said Janice. “Something
wild
will happen. It always does.”

Lobelia chose Janice, Erica, Angus, and Wiglaf for the first group. She handed Wiglaf a map. Right after lunch, the four set off for Ye Olde Home.

“I know it's not nice to say,” said Angus as they headed north on Huntsman's Path, “but old geezers scare me.”

“Why?” asked Wiglaf. “Geezers were young once, just like us.”

“That's what's scary!” wailed Angus. “I don't want to get old and shaky and have bad teeth and drool on my tunic!”

“My grandpa never drools on his tunic,” said Janice. She popped a piece of gum into her mouth.

“No?” said Angus.

“No,” said Janice. “He wears a bib.”

“See what I mean?” cried Angus. “It's awful, getting old.”

“That's why we are going,” said Erica. “Our fresh young faces will bring cheer into the old knights' dreary lives. And what joy I will bring when I recite the poem I wrote about Sir Lancelot. It is long,” she added. “But I memorized the whole poem.”

When they reached Toenail, Wiglaf looked at Lobelia's map. “We must head that way,” he said, pointing east.

As they turned toward the Swamp River, Wiglaf spied a gray stone castle sitting atop a hill. They drew close and Wiglaf saw dozens of rocking chairs sitting on the lawn in front of the castle. Letters carved into the stone above the door read: YE OLDE HOME FOR AGED KNIGHTS.

Erica led the way over the drawbridge. She yanked the bell pull. A minute later, the big wooden front door swung open. And there stood a tall, broad-shouldered man with wavy brown hair and eyes of cornflower blue. He wore a bright red tunic and red leather boots. A patch sewn onto his tunic spelled out his name: Donn.

“Buenos días!”
Donn said. “Good day!” He bowed. “Can I help you?”

“We're from Dragon Slayers' Academy,” Erica said. “Lady Lobelia sent us.”

“Ah,
Señorita
L.!” Donn clasped his hands to his chest. “No fairer damsel ever set slipper upon this earth.”

“Yuck,” muttered Angus. “I hope he isn't Auntie Lobelia's new boyfriend.”

“Welcome to Ye Olde Home,” Donn said. “Come in!” He led them inside to a great hall. A fire burned in a big stone fireplace. Flags with faded coats of arms flew from poles above their heads.

Everywhere Wiglaf looked, he saw aged knights. Some wore tunics and breeches. Some wore odd pieces of their old armor. But most sat around in their jammies.

“Talk to the aged knights,” said Donn. “They will enjoy—
Ay, caramba
!” he cried suddenly. “Sir Dribblechin's lost his teeth again. Pardon me.” He hurried off to help him.

The DSA students walked over to two aged knights playing cards.

“Have you any knaves?” said one aged knight to the other.

“Ha-ha—no!” cackled the second. “Go fishing for it!”

The first aged knight drew a card from the pile.

“'Tis a knave!” he cried, showing his card. “I get another turn!”

“That's no knave,” said the second aged knight. “That's a jester.”

“Same thing,” said the first.

“'Tis not!” cried the second.

“'Tis, too!” cried the first.

The aged knights kept arguing. They didn't seem to notice the DSA students.

“Look,” whispered Janice, pointing to a group of knights sitting around a large table. “They're playing dragon bingo.”

The DSA students headed for the round table. Each knight had a parchment card in front of him. The cards were dotted with small flat stones. Letters at the top of the cards spelled out: D-R-A-G-O-N.

Wiglaf noticed that one of the knights wasn't nearly as aged as the others. He had plump cheeks, dark shoulder-length hair, and a potbelly. He wore faded blue pj's. Wiglaf watched as the plump knight picked up a silvery napkin ring that lay on the table and gazed into it as if it were a mirror. He plucked a gray hair from his head. Then he smiled at his reflection.

Wiglaf thought he had seen this knight somewhere before. But where?

“Bueno!”
said Donn, coming over to the big round table. “Where were we?” He picked a tile from a box and called, “
Numero
G-32.”

All the aged knights who had G-32 on their cards covered it with a stone.

Wiglaf nudged Erica. “Look at the chubby knight in the blue jammies,” he whispered. “Does he look familiar?”

“Where?” said Erica, looking around the room.

Donn reached into the box and took another tile.

“
Numero
N-5,” he called. “N-5.”

A short, bald knight clutching a cane in one hand called out, “Dragon!”

“That's the only way you'll ever get a dragon again, Roger,” cried a skinny, hunched-over knight with poofs of curly white hair. “On a game card!”

All the knights at the bingo table cracked up.

“Stuff a sock in it, Poodleduff!” cried Sir Roger, waving his cane in the air. “I've got ‘dragon,' I tell you!”„

“Pooh, Roger,” said Sir Poodleduff. “You cheated!”

“I never cheat!” cried Sir Roger. “Except in emergencies.”

“Por favor!”
said Donn. “Please! No fighting!”

Sir Roger read back the letters and numbers on his card.

“Bueno!”
cried Donn when he finished. “You win, Sir Roger!”

“All right!” said Sir Roger. “What's the prize?”

“An autographed drawing of Sir Lancelot!” said Donn, handing it to him.

“Zounds!” cried Erica. “I wish I had won that!”

But Sir Roger rolled his eyes as he took it. “Some prize,” he muttered. “A picture of a has-been.”

Erica gasped. “Sir Lancelot? A has-been?” She turned to Wiglaf. “What can he mean?”