The New Kid at School Read Online Free Page B

a step toward Old Blodgett. Then another. And another.
    “I cannot watch!” Coach Plungett moaned. He turned away in disgust.
    But Wiglaf kept on. Faster and faster he came. At the last minute, he closed his eyes. “Haiii-yah!” He thrust Surekill up toward the dragon’s chin.
    But somehow Wiglaf missed. He went flying past the practice dragon and landed on a bale of straw. His eyes popped open. Around him, boys were hooting and pointing.
    Wiglaf glanced at Surekill. His heart nearly stopped. He had missed the practice dragon. But he had speared some small, brown, furry creature! There it was, stuck on the end of his sword!
    Why is everyone laughing, Wiglaf wondered, when I have so cruelly killed a ...uh...?
    “I’ll take that!” growled the coach.
    Wiglaf looked up to see a very bald Coach Plungett snatch the hairy thing from the end of Surekill and angrily set it on his head.
    Only then did Wiglaf understand what creature he had murdered. Coach Plungett’s own brown pageboy wig!

Chapter 6
    Wiglaf picked at his lunch of boiled eel on a bun. Coach Plungett was sure to give him an F in slaying now. He had messed up royally—and on his very first day of school.
    “Come on, Wiglaf. Eat up!” Angus told him. “You do not want to be late for Mordred’s class.”
    Mordred! Wiglaf shuddered. What would the headmaster do to a new boy who had nearly slayed the slaying coach?
    With dark thoughts, Wiglaf followed Angus to a stone-walled classroom. As the boys sat down on a rickety bench, a huge man in a red cloak strode through the door. Thick black hair sprouted from his head. His violet eyes bulged like overripe plums.
    “Atten- tion! ” Mordred the Marvelous called.
    The students leaped to their feet. Wiglaf did, too.
    “At ease!” Mordred commanded.
    The boys sat down.
    “Let us review,” the headmaster said. “Why are you here at Dragon Slayers’ Academy?”
    “To learn to slay evil dragons!” Eric called out at once. “To make the world safe for little children! To save villagers from—”
    “Yes, yes,” Mordred interrupted, holding up a hand heavy with gold rings. “That is all well and good. But what about yesterday’s lesson ? What did I say? Anyone? Baldrick?”
    A small freckle-faced boy with a runny nose stood up. “We are here to learn how to get a dragon’s golden hoard, sir! And bring it back to you, sir!”
    “Correct!” Mordred grinned, showing a shiny gold front tooth. “To bring me gold! And”—he coughed—“to take some...a teeny bit...maybe...home to your”—he coughed again—“parents.”
    He cleared his throat. “Now, who remembers how to find a cave-dwelling dragon?”
    Again, Eric was the first to answer. “Look for burned spots on shrubs and bushes!” he called. “And big footprints with three long toes!”
    Mordred nodded. “And when you spot the dragon...what must you look out for?”
    “Beware flames of death!” Eric shouted. “Beware a dragon’s poison spit!”
    “Correct, Eric.” Mordred sighed and looked around. “Anyone else?”
    “Beware the eyes that never close!” Eric called again. “Beware the knife-sharp teeth! Beware the powerful, lashing tail!”
    “Thank you, Eric,” Mordred said. “Now, what else must a dragon hunter know in order to slay such a beast?”
    “How to talk to a dragon!” Eric called. “How to be brave!”
    Mordred nodded. “Anything else?”
    At last Eric was quiet. And so were all the other boys.
    But Wiglaf had listened well to the minstrel’s dragon tales. He knew there was one thing that Eric had not mentioned. Timidly, he raised his hand.
    Mordred’s bulging eyes lit on him. “Ah, the new boy! The one who scalped Coach Plungett!” The headmaster chuckled. “So, new boy, what else should a dragon hunter know?”
    “A dragon’s secret weakness?” Wiglaf said meekly.
    “That’s right!” Mordred’s eyebrows shot up.
    “Oh, everybody knows that,” Eric complained.
    “Let the new boy tell what he knows