The New Kid at School Read Online Free

sound fierce to attract fierce pupils to his school.”
    “Then...you never killed a nest of dragon young?” Wiglaf asked.
    “Not exactly,” Angus admitted. “I stumbled over an old dragon nest in the forest once and squashed some rotten eggs. Whew! Did they ever stink!” He waved a hand in front of his nose. “It took weeks to get the slimy goo off my boots.”
    “Then Torblad the Terrible and Baldrick the Bold...?” Wiglaf began.
    Angus shook his head. “I am afraid my Uncle Mordred sometimes stretches the truth.”
    “The headmaster is your uncle?” Wiglaf exclaimed. “Imagine! So has anybody here ever killed a dragon?”
    “Not yet,” Eric piped up. “But soon someone shall—and that someone shall be me!”
    Clang! Clang! A bell sounded and Eric slurped up the tail of his eel.
    “Finish up,” Angus advised Wiglaf. “Stalking a Fire-Breather Class begins in five minutes. And it is way over in the East Tower.”
    Wiglaf stared at his fried eel on toast—now cold and gray. Then he left it on his plate and hurried after Angus and Eric.

Chapter 5
    Wiglaf, Eric, and Angus rushed along the castle hallways until they came to a spiraling stone staircase. They ran up the steps, two at a time. When they reached the top of the East Tower, they were panting for breath.
    Several boys stood at a window, pulling on a rope. Angus and Eric joined them.
    Wiglaf, too, began to pull. “What are we raising?” he asked. “It is quite heavy.”
    “‘Tis Sir Mort,” Angus replied. “Our teacher. He has a hard time walking up stairs.”
    In a moment, Wiglaf saw why. A helmeted head appeared at the window. The boys reached out to pull their teacher in. And Sir Mort crashed to the classroom floor—wear—ing a full suit of armor.
    The boys helped him to his feet.
    “Stalking a fire-breather is no easy matter, lads,” the old knight began lecturing as he lurched and clattered to the front of the room. “Dragons can hear you coming from miles away. Especially if you have on armor. Clanks something awful.”
    “Sir?” Eric called. “What about a dragon’s sense of smell?”
    “Oh, they smell all right.” Sir Mort nodded thoughtfully. “Like old cheese, most of them. But I slew a dragon once that smelled exactly like my red wool socks when I wear ‘em too long and the mold sets in.”
    Eric tried again. “I meant, can a dragon smell a dragon hunter?”
    “Ah! Good question!” Sir Mort exclaimed. “That’s how you learn, lads! By asking questions!” He looked around the room. “Are there any more questions?”
    A tall, scared-looking boy raised his hand. “How close dare we stalk a dragon without danger?” he asked in a shaky voice.
    “That,” Angus whispered to Wiglaf, “is Torblad the Terrible.”
    “How close!” Sir Mort exclaimed. “An excellent question. Excellent! You will go far, lad! Next question?”
    Eric’s hand shot up again. He certainly is eager, Wiglaf thought.
    “Yesterday you said we must stalk different dragons in different ways,” Eric said. “Can you give us an example?”
    “Certainly I can.” Sir Mort nodded, smiling. “Easy as pie.”
    Eric and the rest of the class waited. But Sir Mort only kept nodding and smiling.
    “Sir?” Eric said at last. “Will you show us what you mean?”
    “Good idea!” The old knight jangled to the center of the room.
    “Take cave-dwelling dragons. They have excellent hearing,” Sir Mort explained. “So they must be approached on the sly. I use what I call the Slide ‘n’ Glide. I stand sideways to the cave like this.” Sir Mort turned sideways to the class. “And I slide my right foot out, like this.” Sir Mort slid his right foot out.
    Unfortunately, the old stone floors of the castle were far smoother than the ground outside a dragon’s cave. Sir Mort’s boot kept sliding and sliding...and sliding. Until the old knight clanked to the floor in a perfect split. His visor slammed down over his face.
    “Hoist me up, lads!”