World's Oldest Living Dragon (4 page)

“There's an epic battle coming up,” added Sir Roger, pounding his cane with glee. “Knights perish in all sorts of horrible ways.”

Wiglaf felt his stomach flop. “How many verses are there?” he asked.

“Six hundred and twenty-two,” said Sir Poodleduff. “Or is it twenty-three?”

“That's too long to learn by April Fools' Day,” said Erica. “Even for me!”

“Oh, it takes years to learn the whole poem,” said Sir Roger.

“Years and years!” agreed all the aged knights.

“Then we cannot save DSA after all,” said Erica sadly.

“But the aged knights can,” Wiglaf said. He turned to them. “Kind sirs, will you come to DSA on April Fools' Day and recite the Grizzlegore poem?”

But Sir Roger shook his head. “I wish we could,” he said. “But that wouldn't work. It must be students from the school who recite the poem.”

“Grizzlegore is very clear on that point,” added Sir Poodleduff. “That way he makes sure his legend lives on.”

“Oh, this is hopeless,” said Erica.

“It does look that way, doesn't it?” called Sir Lancelot from the tapestry corner. Wiglaf turned and saw that he was weaving a tapestry of himself.

“Wait,” said Wiglaf. “We discovered Grizzlegore's secret weakness. And we found aged knights who know the whole rhyme. We cannot give up now.”

He stared at bald little Sir Roger. At skinny white-haired Sir Poodleduff. At the other old knights. Why, he could easily imagine what they had looked like when they were lads. And another idea popped into Wiglaf's head. “I wonder how good Grizzlegore's eyes are,” he said, half to himself.

“He was blind as a bat fifty years ago,” Sir Roger answered.

“Then all we need are uniforms,” Wiglaf said, growing excited. “DSA uniforms.”

“What are you talking about, Wiggie?” said Erica.

“I get it!” cried Janice. “The knights can put on uniforms and disguise themselves as DSA students! Goody—I knew something wild and crazy would happen!”

“Then the knights can come to DSA and say the rhyme for Grizzlegore!” Angus added.

“That's brilliant, Wiggie.” Erica grinned. She turned to the knights. “Will you come, good sirs? And save our school?”

“We aged knights would like nothing better than to help you,” said Sir Poodleduff. “But alas! We are too old to travel.”

“We can't walk more than ten steps without stopping to catch our breath,” said Sir Roger. “We'd never make it.”

“Plus, doing the Grizzlegore dance wore us out when we were lads,” said Sir Poodleduff. “If we tried it now, it would finish us off.”

Just then, the dinner bell rang.

“Dinnertime already?” Sir Lancelot said. He stood up from his loom. “Excuse me for running off, lads and lasses, but I like to be first in line. I like being first at everything.” And he hurried away.

As the aged knights all tottered off after him, Wiglaf heard a strange thumping sound. He turned and saw Donn coming toward them.
Thump, step. Thump, step.

“Perdón!”
said Donn, bowing. “Pardon me. I was nearby and could not help but overhear what you said. There is
solamente uno
—only one—person in all the world who can get these poor, weak, hunched-over knights in shape in time to help you.”

“Who?” said Erica. “Tell us!”

“Yo,”
said Donn with a sly smile. “Me.
Sí!
I can do it.”

In my native country of Spain,” said Donn, standing straight and tall, “I was a famous personal trainer. I was known as Don Donn.”

Wiglaf saw muscles rippling under Don Donn's tunic.

“I owned a chain of popular gyms called Uno! Dos! Tres!” Don Donn said.

“One! Two! Three! Right?” said Angus.

“Sí,”
said Don Donn. “I made getting in shape as easy as Uno! Dos! Tres! I was rolling in pesos.”

“And what brought you here to Ye Olde Home, sir?” asked Wiglaf.

“Ah, that is a strange story,” said Don Donn.

“Tell us, Don Donn,” said Wiglaf.

“We
love
stories,” said Janice, chewing loudly.

“Especially strange ones.”

“
Bueno
,” said Don Donn. “Three years ago, I boarded a sailing ship in Spain. I sailed for England to open more gyms. Suddenly, a terrible storm hit. Rain! Lightning! Waves as big as this castle!”

“How awful!” said Erica.

“It gets worse,” said Don Donn. “A huge wave picked up the ship and smashed it to bits. The only thing left was the mast.”

“That's terrible!” said Janice.

“It gets worse,” said Don Donn. “All the passengers and crew were hurled into the sea. Every bone in my body was broken. But I grabbed the mast and hung on. Two others did the same. For days, we floated in the ocean, circled by vicious sea monsters.”

“How horrible!” cried Angus.

“It gets worse,” said Don Donn. “A big sea monster bit off my left leg.”

Wiglaf's stomach lurched. “Does it get worse?” he asked. Because if it did, he did not want to hear it.

“Only a little bit,” said Don Donn. “Luckily, the water was so cold, I didn't bleed much. At last we washed ashore on an island. My comrades ripped up what was left of their shirts and bandaged what was left of my leg. I survived. When my broken bones healed, I carved myself an artificial leg out of the mast of the ship.”

Wiglaf was awed. Don Donn was tough!

Janice had been listening so hard, she forgot to chew.

“Is this true?” she asked.

“Sí!”
Don Donn rolled down the top of his left boot. Under it was a sturdy wooden leg. “Made of the finest teak.” He knocked on his leg for luck.

“I still don't understand how you ended up here,” said Angus.

“A passing ship rescued us,” said Don Donn. “And brought us here. I'd had enough of sailing the seas and decided to stay. I had my fortune sent to me. After all I had been through, I wanted to use my training talents help those who need it most—old, battle-scarred knights. So I bought this castle. I put in a state-of-the-art Uno! Dos! Tres! gym. And I opened Ye Olde Home for Aged Knights.”

“'Tis a fine home, sir,” said Wiglaf.

“Sí,”
said Don Donn. “But there is
uno problemo
—one problem. The aged knights like to talk of their glory days. But they think those days are behind them. So they have no reason to shape up. Try as I might, I have not been able to lure them into the gym. Until now.”

“What's different now?” asked Janice.

“The knights want so much to help you,” said Don Donn. “They want to come to your school and recite the poem. They want to save your school from Grizzlegore. That would make the aged knights heroes again.”

“Can you really get these old knights to do the Grizzlegore dance?” asked Angus.

“Sí,”
said Don Donn. “When you have carved yourself a wooden leg from the mast of a sunken ship, you can do anything.”

“Excuse me, Don Donn?” said Angus. “We have to go now or we'll miss supper at DSA.”

“You will come back tomorrow,
no
?” said Don Donn.

“Sí!”
cried Janice. “We'll help you. This is going to be so
fun
!”

“
Bueno
,” said Don Donn. “April Fools' Day is…” He counted on his fingers. “Fourteen days away. Ask your headmaster if you can stay here for two weeks. None of the aged knights can climb stairs, so there are lots of empty rooms on the second floor of the castle.”

The four bid Don Donn farewell and set off for DSA.

Clouds covered the half moon. It was dark on Huntsman's Path. As they went, Wiglaf heard footsteps.

“Someone is coming toward us,” he whispered.

Erica unsnapped her mini-torch from her Sir Lancelot tool belt and lit it.

Wiglaf saw two figures in the distance.

“Who goes there?” called Erica.

“Who goes
there
?” one of the figures called back.

Through the murky darkness, Wiglaf saw two lasses coming toward them.

“Erica?” said one of the lasses. “Is that you?”

Erica squinted into the darkness and said, “Rosamond?”

“Eeeeee!” Rosamond squealed. She threw her arms around Erica.

“Nice to see you, too,” said Erica, slipping out of the hug. “Rosamond is the princess of West Armpitsia,” she told her friends. “We go way back.”

“This is Val,” said Rosamond, introducing the other lass. “Princess of East Armpitsia. We've just been to DSA.”

“Our headmistress sent us to borrow some gold from Mordred,” said Val. “Because this dragon Grizzlegore came and took every penny at Princess Prep.”

“Zounds!” cried Janice. “What did the dragon look like?”

“He had huge pointy claws,” said Rosamond. “And a spiky tail.”

“Flaming drool hung down from his jaws,” said Val. “Disgusting!”

Wiglaf shuddered. Grizzlegore sounded scary!

“I bet Mordred didn't lend you any gold, did he?” said Angus.

“Not a single coin,” said Rosamond. “What a cheapo.”

“Now we have to try Dragon Stabbers Prep,” said Val. “We'd best be off.”

“Byeeeee!” said Rosamond.

The lasses continued north on Huntsman's Path, while Wiglaf and his friends headed south to DSA.

One thing is for sure,
Wiglaf thought.
The world's oldest living dragon is no longer retired.

Auntie Lobelia?” said Angus when he and the others found her outside the DSA dining hall. “Where is Uncle Mordred? We need to talk to him.”

“Mordie has locked himself inside his office,” Lobelia said. “He's busy packing up his files and his gold. So I'm in charge at the moment.” She eyed Janice. “Are you chewing gum?” she asked.

Janice drew a breath and swallowed. “Not anymore,” she said.

“We need to talk to you, Auntie,” said Angus. “It's important.”

“Let us go to my sitting room,” said Lobelia.

After hearing their story, Lady Lobelia sank into her blue velvet chair. “By Saint George's helmet!” she exclaimed. “Do you mean to tell me that only the aged knights can save DSA from Grizzlegore?”

“Yes, Auntie,” said Angus. “And they'll need DSA uniforms if they are to fool the dragon into thinking they are DSA students.”

“We have extra uniforms, all sizes,” said Lobelia. “But they are going to need more than uniforms.” Her eyes lit up. “Makeup, for starters. And wigs. I'll have everything ready by April Fools' Eve.”

Wiglaf and the others ran to their dorms and packed their things.

The four took off first thing the next morning. They arrived at Ye Olde Home by mid-morning.

“Bueno!”
said Don Donn. He showed his new training assistants to their rooms on the second floor of the castle. Janice and Erica shared a room with a view of Keep Away Mountain. Wiglaf and Angus shared a room with a view of Toenail.

Next, Don Donn took them to the gym. A sign above the door said: UNO! DOS! TRES!

Janice whistled as they entered. “This is one fine gym,” she said. “It's even better than the one we had at Dragon Whackers.”

Wiglaf had never seen a gym. DSA did not have one, as Mordred believed that his students got plenty of exercise scrubbing the school. Now Wiglaf gawked at all the odd-looking machines and equipment. Ropes hung from the ceiling. An iron chinning bar had been bolted high in a doorway. There were many different sizes of balls and weights. Mats had been spread out on the floor. And in one corner sat a shiny rowboat with oars.

Don Donn spent the morning showing the four how to do proper Uno! Dos! Tres! chin-ups, sit-ups, push-ups, and jumping jacks. He showed them how to work all the machines. Then he said, “Here are Uno! Dos! Tres! ribbons to wear.” He handed them out. “That will show that you are my official assistant trainers.”

How proud Wiglaf was as he pinned his ribbon onto his tunic.

“The aged knights will be having their lunch now,” said Don Donn. “Why do we not join them?”

They walked down the hallway and into the dining hall.

“Who ate my sticky bun?” cried one aged knight.

“There's no meat in my meat pie!” cried another.

All the complaining reminded Wiglaf of lunchtime at DSA.

“Ah, the students,” said Sir Poodleduff, beckoning them over to his table.