The Runaway Princess by Kate Coombs Read Free Book Online Page B

squabble.”
    â€œSquabble?” Cam said innocently as Dilly left.
    â€œJust show me the way to the dragon,” Meg told him.
    She followed Cam past the visitors’ tents. With all of the princes out after the dragon and the witch, the encampment was strangely quiet. A few servants sat playing cards.
    â€œNow, we follow the king’s road northwest for about a mile, and we should see a faint trail leading off east up the mountain,” Cam said.
    â€œIsn’t there more than one trail?”
    â€œYes, but this is the first, and it’s the right one.”
    Meg tugged at her hat. “I’m not wearing this thing all day.”
    â€œHide it under a bush,” Cam suggested.
    â€œHmmph,” said Meg, tromping up the hill.

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    With a hey and a hi and a ho! Prince Dagle sang tenor and Prince Dorn sang bass, somehow managing to hike up a mountain at the same time. They had gone along the king’s road and up the most promising-looking trail. Any moment now, they might see a plume of evil smoke or a pile of bones, the marks of a dragon’s lair.
    Instead they saw a lot of rocks and some pine trees, then still more rocks and pine trees, also dirt. An eagle cried, soaring overhead.
    â€œWait!” Dagle said, and the brothers stopped. “Here, dragon, dragon, dragon!” Dagle called.
    Dorn laughed. “He won’t answer to that.”
    â€œWhy not?”
    â€œIt’s not his name!”
    â€œHow do you know?” Dagle asked.
    â€œBecause dragons have great, mythic names like Deathbreath and Snotfire,” Dorn said knowingly.
    â€œAh. You’re right.”
    They walked on in silence.
    â€œThis is probably the wrong mountain anyway,” Dorn said suddenly.
    Dagle looked amazed. “It could very well be the wrong mountain, brother! What shall we do?”
    â€œWe need information.”
    Dagle began to smile. “I know just where to find it.”
    â€œWhere?”
    â€œWhy, in an alehouse! There we will find not only
good ale but some sturdy townsman who knows these parts and can tell us where to hunt out the beast!”
    Cheered, the brothers turned about and set off down the slope for Crown.
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    The witch sat in an overstuffed flowered armchair reading a book with a scarlet cover depicting a golden-haired maiden being rescued by a very brawny young man in armor. Gorba shook her head as she reached page 147. “No, Esmeralda, his love is true!”
    A sleepy voice croaked as if to answer her. Then, a great crashing of underbrush could be heard in the distance. A few of the frogs jumped, alarmed, but Gorba was absorbed in her book. One of the more timid frogs crept beneath the sofa.
    Outside, Dilly slipped behind a stand of saplings, glad she hadn’t worn her brightest dress.
    The sound became louder. Someone was muttering in front of the cottage. Just as Gorba frowned, looking up from her novel, a voice was heard without. “Madam witch!” it cried. “Come forth and face your fate!”
    Gorba sighed, sliding down a little in her chair. She tried holding the book closer to her nose.
    Whoever it was pounded madly on the door. “Ho, witch!”
    â€œGo away!” Gorba yelled.
    After a moment’s silence, the voice spoke again, even louder. “Come out, witch! Dare to meet the wrath of Prince George the Fourth of Shervelhame!”

    Gorba rolled her eyes. The frogs croaked sympathetically. The witch put down the book, stalked to the door, and flung it open.
    Her visitor, a little red-haired prince, glowered. Behind him, a dozen other princes jostled for a good view, nearly filling the little clearing.
    â€œIn the name of good King Stromgard of Greeve,” the prince proclaimed, “I command you, evil crone, to depart from this place and trouble the kingdom no more!” The other princes stepped closer, sensing victory.
    â€œThis is your last warning, you pack of royal idiots,”