It was a very familiar-sounding whinny of rage.
The angry horse locked eyes with Carlos.
Carlos’s eyes went as wide as dinner plates. “What is Cornelius doing here?”
“One of the other horses got sick, CC,” Smudge explained. “So Cornelius was sent over as a substitute.”
Smudge turned to Cornelius, who was now stomping his hooves and foaming at the mouth. “Sorry I burned your bummy-bum!” Smudge said.
But Cornelius was in no mood to accept apologies—especially if the apology was from a friend of Carlos.
No doubt about it, Carlos thought. Someday that horse is going to beat the poop out of me.
Gilbert put his hand on Carlos’s shoulder. “Carlos, are you sure you want to joust?” he asked.
“Yes,” Carlos said.
Gilbert smiled. “Then you, my friend, are a brave and noble prince.”
“Wow. Thank you,” Carlos replied. When a brave and noble prince like Gilbert the Gallant calls you a brave and noble prince, it means something.
But Carlos knew that being a brave and noble prince wouldn’t help him survive a joust against Sir Lance A. Lott. The only way he’d survive was to be a brave and noble jester.
CHAPTER 10
“IT IS TIME FOR THE MAIN EVENT!” the announcer crowed.
The final two jousters of the day rode out onto the Stabby Stadium field. Both men were covered from head to toe in suits of armor, but it was easy to tell which jouster was which. Carlos’s armor was slim and narrow—a good fit for his gangly frame. Sir Lance A. Lott’s armor, on the other hand, was nearly as wide as it was tall, to better accommodate his broad shoulders and rippling muscles.
“Riding the rhinoceros and clad in blood red is Sir Lance A. Lott of Carnage Caverns!”
There were some cheers from the stands, but they were drowned out by a barrage of boos.
“Riding the dragon with the pink saddle…” the announcer began.
Smudge smiled and waved. “Hai, everybody!” he shouted.
The announcer continued, “… is Prince Carlos Charles Charming of Faraway Kingdom!”
The cheers, whistles, and whoops were deafening. The Faraway Kingdom subjects had taken Queen Cora’s message to heart. They would root for her boy. They would root for their prince.
King Carmine was all smiles. Queen Cora clapped with delight. She blew Carlos a kiss that looked wet and lipstick-y.
The jousters took their places at each end of the track. A squire handed Lance A. Lott his lethal, diamond-tipped lance. Another squire tucked an ordinary wooden lance into the crook of Carlos’s arm. Even from the cheap seats, Carlos’s weapon looked pitiful compared to what Lance A. Lott held.
This was it. The big moment was about to begin. The local boy squaring off against an experienced warrior. An undefeated jouster. A ruthless, pitiless hulk.
The crowd fell into an eerie silence.
The man carrying the yellow flag appeared on the field.
He held the flag above his head.
The crowd held its breath.
The man lowered his arm.
The SNAP of the flag echoed across the stadium.
And, like flipping a switch, the silence was crushed by the crowd’s roaring, shrieking, screeching, hooting, jeering, stomping pandemonium of raw emotion.
Smudge and the rhino pounded forward.
Smudge seemed invigorated by the noise. He ran faster than he ever had before. Carlos’s armor clanked and clunked and rattled like it never had before.
Carlos was unsteady in the saddle.
Standing on the sidelines, Gilbert gritted his teeth. “Come on, Carlos,” he muttered.
The rhinoceros couldn’t run as fast as Smudge. But what he lacked in speed, he made up for in sheer power. He was as unstoppable as an avalanche. Lance’s lance was straight and steady. Its diamond tip flickered and flashed in the afternoon sun. It was aimed straight for Carlos’s chest.
Carlos continued to bounce wildly. His lance weaved back and forth, pointing at nothing in particular.
Everyone in the stands seemed to sense that Carlos was in big trouble. A collective gasp swept through the crowd as the slapping of dragon paws and the thunder of rhino feet grew in intensity.
It was over in an instant.
Lance A. Lott swatted Carlos’s lance to one side as if it were nothing more than a pesky mosquito. He plunged his diamond-tipped lance into Carlos. The lance had no trouble piercing Carlos’s armor. It also had no trouble coming out the other side.
Carlos was run through.
Lance A. Lott raised his anvil-size fists in victory.
He was greeted not by cheers but by a stadium full of troubled murmurs.
Carlos remained on Smudge for a few terrible seconds before slumping off the pink saddle and into the dirt.
Smudge’s eyes went wide. “CC?” he squeaked. “CC, are you okay?”
A horrible cry from Queen Cora echoed through the stadium. It was followed by a scattering of alarmed shouts from the crowd.
“Carlos!” Gilbert ran to where the body lay, but Smudge blocked his path.
“No, Gert! Don’t touch CC! The doctor is coming!”
A bearded doctor, wearing white scrubs and carrying a black medicine bag, raced onto the field. He knelt beside the lifeless body. He put his ear against the armored chest. He felt the armored wrist for a pulse. He peeked through the armored face visor.
The doctor stood up to address the crowd. “Prince Carlos Charles Charming,” he said, “is gone. Really gone.”
The doctor pulled off Carlos’s helmet.
There was no head inside. The armor was empty.
The crowd gasped in surprise and confusion.
“Ooh, jiminy!” Smudge said. The dragon was supposed to act surprised, but he couldn’t quite pull it off. Instead, he started to giggle. “Oh, jiminy, jiminy, jiminy!” he said between fiery snorts of glee.
“But don’t worry, Your Highness,” the doctor shouted up to the king. “I can cure invisibility!”
The doctor shed his scrubs. Underneath was a lime-green outfit that jingle-jangled with every movement. He reached into his doctor’s bag, pulled out a jester hat, and put it on. The doctor pulled off his beard.
Carlos stretched out his arms. “TA-DAA!”
Gilbert’s mouth dropped open. “You’re alive!”
“Oh, hai, CC!” Smudge giggled.
“Oh, hai, Smudge!” Carlos replied. “And that’s how you do The Sneaky Jester without a deck of cards.”
“I like it!” Smudge said.
The crowd liked it, too. Ten thousand jousting fans switched from expressions of horror to laughter.
The laughter was cut short by a shout from the royal box.
“Carlos!” Queen Cora was beside herself. “I thought … I thought…”
“I’m sorry, Mom. I’m sorry, Dad,” Carlos called out. “But if I had jousted … Well, you saw what would’ve happened.”
“It’s true, Your Highnesses,” Gilbert said. “I know Sir Lance A. Lott’s terrible reputation all too well. If Carlos had jousted, he would have been seriously hurt. Or worse.”
“HE’S GONNA GET WORSE RIGHT NOW!” Lance A. Lott boomed. He stood a few yards away. His sword was drawn.
Gilbert drew his own sword. “You won the joust, Lance. Time to walk away.”
Dang, Carlos thought. Gilbert might not be perfect, but he’s a lot cooler than I realized.
Lance A. Lott stepped closer. “I DIDN’T WIN THE WAY I WANTED TO! I WIN BY GETTING STABBY!”
“Not today, you don’t,” Gilbert said in a low steady voice.
“I’LL PROVE YOU WRONG,” Lance A. Lott sneered. “TODAY, I’LL STAB YOU BOTH!”
With fire in his eyes, Lance A. Lott lunged toward them.
With fire in his eyes, Gilbert lunged toward Lance A. Lott.
With fire in his mouth, Smudge BAWOOSHED!
And that was pretty much that.
“OWIE! OWIE! OWIE
!” Lance A. Lott whimpered and whined as he ran away in a red-hot suit of armor.
“See, Gert?” Smudge said. “I told you my hot bref is useful!”
“Yes,” Gilbert said. “I can see that.”
“If you want to thank me, you may pet my head,” Smudge suggested.
Gilbert pet Smudge’s head.
“Oh, that feels pleasant!” Smudge said. “You’re good at this, Gert. You must pet my head more often.”
King Carmine’s voice echoed down to the field below. “Son,” he said, “I am so very glad you’re safe. And I am sorry I put you in harm’s way.”
Carlos was suddenly aware of how very public this conversation was.
“You’re a very clever young man, aren’t you?” the king continued.
Carlos shrugged.
“No false modesty, now. You are very clever,” the king said. “And, after catching your show at the Village Arena, I can verify that you are also very entertaining.”
Carlos felt happy tingles all over. “You … You liked my show?” he asked.
“I liked your show, son,” the king said.
Carlos smiled so wide that his face began to hurt.
The king went on, “In fact, I was hoping you’d perform a few minutes of your show right now. If you wish.”
The crowd let out a wild, joyous roar of approval, but Carlos hardly heard them.
The jester prince looked up into the smiling face of his dad.
He couldn’t remember a moment in his life when he’d felt so perfectly happy.
Prince Not-So Charming
Prince Not-So Charming: Once Upon a Prank
Prince Not-So Charming: Her Royal Slyness
ABOUT THE AUTHORS
Roy L. Hinuss is the authorized biographer of the Charming Royal Family. He is also fond of the occasional fart joke. When he isn’t writing about Prince Carlos Charles Charming’s many adventures, he can be found in his basement laboratory, making batches of homemade Brussels sprout ice cream. You can sign up for email updates here.
Matt Hunt is the illustrator of the Prince Not-So Charming series of young readers books, including Prince Not-So Charming: Once Upon a Prank and Prince Not-So Charming: Her Royal Slyness. You can sign up for email updates here.
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CONTENTS
Title Page
Copyright Notice
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Prince Not-So Charming
About the Authors
Copyright
Copyright © 2018 by Imprint
A part of Macmillan Publishing Group, LLC
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mackids.com
All rights reserved.
You stole this book? But that’s a sin!
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You’re now infected with a curse!
And nothing really could be worse.
Your nose will now be stuffed with snot.
Your head will ache. Your toes will rot.
Your butt will leak. Your eyes will sting.
Your back will break. Your ears will ring.
You’ll scream and cry and whine and yell,
“Please help me to remove this spell!”
But I’m afraid your sorry state,
Will be your sad, eternal fate.
So please my friend! I beg! Take heed!
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Book design by Ellen Duda
Illustrations by Matt Hunt
Imprint logo designed by Amanda Spielman
First paperback edition, 2018
eBook edition, November 2018
eISBN 978-1-250-14241-2
The Dork Knight Page 4