The New Kid at School Read Online Free PDF

cried. “Wild boar!”
    Wiglaf turned to see Eric with his sword drawn and his shield up.
    “Stand back!” Eric shouted. “I shall slay the charging beast!”
    “What beast?” Wiglaf asked. Then he spotted something running toward them across the castle yard. It was Daisy!
    “Eric, stop!” Wiglaf shouted. “Stop! That is my own pig, Daisy!”
    Eric stopped and glumly lowered his sword. He jammed it back into its scabbard and stomped off, grumbling.
    Wiglaf ran to Daisy.
    “Iglaf-Way!” she squealed. “Ake-tay ee-may ith-way ou-yay!”
    “I cannot, Daisy,” Wiglaf said sadly. He squatted down beside her and scratched her bristly ears. “It is too dangerous. For I am off to hunt a dragon.”
    “Orzil-Gay?” Daisy’s voice trembled.
    Wiglaf nodded. “Who knows? Perhaps I shall return a hero.” He tried to smile. “But if I do not”—he gulped—“if I do not return, I am sure Frypot will take good care of you. Now I—I must go. Farewell, best pig in the world!”
    “Arewell-fay, Iglaf-Way!” Daisy called after him. “Ood-gay uck-lay!”
    Wiglaf waved and hurried back to the gatehouse. Then he picked up the cart handle. “Let us be off,” he said to Eric.
    Wiglaf and Eric followed the trail down the hill from Dragon Slayers’ Academy. Then they headed north on Huntsman’s Path.
    They walked beside the Swampy River all afternoon. Strange birds cried out from the stunted trees along the way. Hairy-legged spiders dropped down on them from overhanging branches. Once an angry troll threatened them with his club. But Wiglaf was not afraid. The thought of facing Gorzil was so terrifying that nothing else bothered him.
    Well, almost nothing.
    “I shall slay Gorzil, no problem!” Eric announced for the two-hundredth time. “I shall plunge my sword into his throat. I shall twist it! Buckets of blood will gush from the dragon’s steaming wound! Then I shall—”
    “You know,” Wiglaf broke in finally, “my sword was made for dragon slaying, too.”
    “That bent-up old thing?” Eric sneered.
    Wiglaf nodded. “A wizard gave it to me,” he explained. “When I say magic words, it will leap from my hand and obey.”
    Eric looked doubtful. “And just what are the magic words?”
    “Uh...the wizard had forgotten,” Wiglaf mumbled.
    “It matters not,” Eric scoffed as they came to a fork in Huntsman’s Path. One path led to the village of Toenail. The other led into the Dark Forest. “For I shall slay this dragon with my own silvery sword. I shall cut Gorzil to ribbons! I shall—”
    Suddenly, Eric stopped talking. He stared at the blackened leaves of a nearby shrub.
    “Behold!” he cried. “This bush is scorched!”
    Wiglaf bent down to take a closer look. “So it is,” he agreed. “Could it be from the hot breath of a dragon?”
    “How could it not? And look here!” Eric pointed to the ground. “Footprints!”
    Wiglaf stared at a huge three-toed print in the path in front of them. “My, but these footprints are large!” he exclaimed.
    “Come!” Eric said. “They will lead us to Gorzil’s cave. Hark!” he added. “What noise is that?”
    Wiglaf listened. “It sounds like someone crying.”
    The sound grew louder. Then a boy and girl about Wiglaf and Eric’s age came along on the path from Toenail. Tears streamed down their cheeks.
    “What ails you, good travelers?” Eric called to them. “And how can we help?”
    “Alackaday!” the boy wailed. “You cannot help us. No one can! My sister Zelda and I are on our way to Gorzil’s cave!”
    “Do you mean,” Wiglaf began, “that you are the son and daughter of the village? That you are to be Gorzil’s...breakfast?”
    Zelda nodded. “I fear it is so. The Toenail village masters held a lottery. And alas—Gawain and I won!”
    “If only a brave knight would slay Gorzil and save us!” Gawain said. “But there is no hope of that.”

    Eric yanked his sword from its scabbard and held it high in the air.
    “Fear not, young