A Wedding for Wiglaf? by Kate McMullan Read Free Book Online

vowed. He dropped to his knees and said, “Will you marry me?”
    The princess smiled. She turned to Wiglaf. “I hope you don’t mind terribly,” she said, “but I must marry Wendell.”
    “So you must, Princess,” Wiglaf said happily. “You must marry the one you love.”
    There. He’d said it: Marry!
    “What will your father say?” Coach asked.
    “Who cares?” the princess replied.
    “Hold it! Hold it!” Mordred cried. “What about your conditions, Your Highness? True, Wendell Plungett is a dragon slayer. And his first name begins with W. But,” Mordred added slyly, “he does not have red hair!”
    “‘Tis true,” Coach Plungett said. He pulled off his wig. “I no longer have any hair.”
    “Who cares?” Princess Belcheena said again. “You once had lovely carrot-colored hair. I still carry a curl of it in my locket. That is enough for me.”
    Mordred groaned.
    “I’ll be your best man, Coach,” Wiglaf offered.
    Brother Dave began again. “Dearly beloved, we have come here today to join Princess Belcheena of Mildew Palace, East Armpittsia, and Wendell Plungett of Dragon Slayers’ Academy in marriage.”

    What a celebration followed! No one had a better time than Wiglaf. He cheered for the jugglers. He sang along with the minstrels. He danced with Daisy. Later he smiled when he saw his pig in the crowd, flirting with the golden-tusked boar. He’d never been so happy.
    “Look,” said Angus at last. “The bride and groom are getting into the carriage.”
    “Let us bid them good-bye,” Erica said.
    Wiglaf, Angus, and Erica hurried over.
    “Farewell, Coach!” Wiglaf said. “Farewell, Princess Belcheena!”
    “Good-bye!” Belcheena called. “Come and visit us at Mildew Palace, won’t you, Wigs? And bring your friends.”
    Mordred pushed his way to the carriage. “Excuse me, Princess,” he said. “But as your matchmaker, I was wondering.... About that pot of gold?”
    “Ah!” Belcheena said. “But I have not married Wiglaf of Pinwick. So I owe you no pot of gold.”
    “But...but...but...” Mordred sputtered. “The price of the wedding supper alone...”
    The princess reached out of the carriage and patted Mordred on the head. “Thanks for everything!” she exclaimed. Then the happy couple galloped off for their honeymoon.
    “I’m ruined!” Mordred bellowed. “Ruined!” He turned to Wiglaf, his violet eyes bulging. “It’s all your fault!” he growled.
    “My fault?” Wiglaf cried.
    “If you weren’t a redheaded dragon slayer named Wiglaf, none of this would have happened!” Mordred yelled. “I’m going to throw you into the dungeon. It’s the Thumb Screws for you, my boy....”
    The Sir Lancelot almost-magic ring began flashing a bright orange warning: Danger, danger, danger! Wiglaf didn’t wait around to hear any more. He took off running. Angus and Erica took off after him. They knew just where to hide from Mordred until his temper cooled down—in the DSA library.
    As Wiglaf ran, he felt better than he had felt in a long, long time. He felt as if he really might live happily ever after.

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    Sir Herbert and Sir Ichabod founded Dragon Slayers’ Academy on a simple principle still held dear today: Any lad—no matter how weak, yellow-bellied, lazy, pigeon-toed, smelly, or unwilling—can be transformed into a fearless dragon slayer who goes for the gold. After four years at DSA, lads will finally be of some worth to their parents, as well as a source of great wealth to this distinguished academy. 1 2 3
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Mordred de Marvelous
    Mordred graduated from Dragon Bludgeon High, second in his class. The other student, Lionel Flyzwattar, went on to become headmaster of Dragon Stabbers’ Prep. Mordred spent years as part-time, semi-substitute student teacher at Dragon Whackers’ Alternative School, all the while pursuing his passion for mud wrestling. Inspired by how filthy rich