Dad peered up from his wagon. ‘Maybe they’ve heard that King Arthur is going to come down to the school this morning,’ he suggested. ‘It’s not often a hay carter gets to see a king.’
‘But how would they know the King is coming here?’ began Horace, then added, ‘Quick! Dad! Lie down again! Sir Sneazle is coming!’
Sir Sneazle wound his way between the hay carts. Suddenly he stopped and stared, then hurried towards them. ‘Zounds!’ he swore. ‘What is going on here?’
Horace felt suddenly uncertain. ‘It’s our homework that you asked for, sir!’ he offered.
‘Here’s my hundred-page essay on Ye Historie of Ye Broadsword, sir,’ said Bernard, holding out the manuscript. ‘Not a single blot!’
‘And here’s our fair damsel,’ said Bran. ‘We rescued her from ferocious guinea, er, ferocious beasts!’
‘She’s the fairest damsel in the country, sir’ said Snidge loyally. Grub grinned at him and hid her greasy fingernails in the folds of her skirt.
‘And this,’ said Horace proudly, ‘is my dragon!’
Sir Sneazle gazed at Dad, lying sprawled on the wagon. Then he stared at Grub, then Bernard’s essay, then back to Dad again.
‘You fools!’ cried Sir Sneazle. ‘You stupid, idiotic fools!’
‘But, sir!’ protested Horace. ‘We did our homework as you commanded!’
Sir Sneazle waved him silent. ‘Do you know what you have got yourselves into? I never expected any of you to actually do your homework projects! I expected you to fail! To be too ashamed to come to school!’
‘But…’ began Horace again. Suddenly no words came out of his mouth. Horace tried again.
Nothing happened.
Sir Sneazle made vague passes in the air.
‘Leg of lizard,’ he muttered.
‘Tongue of bee,
Let these fools
Stand silently!’
Suddenly Horace found he couldn’t move either.
‘Why do you think a knight like me is teaching in a school like this?’ cried Sir Sneazle. ‘Why do you think I went to so much trouble to enchant Sir Bunny’s arthritis so he had to retire? It wasn’t for the privilege of teaching pimply boys or lads who smell of pig swill!’
Suddenly trumpets sounded down the road.
The King! thought Horace, King Arthur was coming!
Sir Sneazle smiled his vinegar smile. He rubbed his hands happily. ‘The King!’ he chortled. ‘That is why I took this job! To get to the King! And I didn’t want you brats getting in the way.’
The hay cart drivers looked suddenly more alert.
What was happening? thought Horace frantically. What was Sir Sneazle planning?
‘Cockroach toenails,’ chanted someone hurriedly from the willow trees.
‘Cold slug wee,
Let these boys
Again go free!’
Horace blinked. That spell hadn’t come from Sir Sneazle!
It was Mum!
Mum stepped out from under the willow trees.
‘Ogre’s ear wax…’ she chanted. Mum hesitated. ‘Or should that be Black cat’s ear wax,’ she muttered.
Had Mum’s spell worked? Horace tried to move his hands, but nothing happened. Yes, he could move one finger.
Mum shook her head. ‘No, I think it’s giraffe’s whiskers.’
Sir Sneazle laughed.
‘Green frogs fried in boiling oil!’ he cried.
‘Rotten roots of snuglug tree,
Pimple pus and viper’s coil
Let all here obey just me!’
Horace’s finger froze. Mum froze too. ‘I’m sorry everyone! He’s too strong for me,’ Mum whispered from stiff lips.
‘Of course I am,’ said Sir Sneazle nastily. ‘I’m a sorcerer, and you’re, a what? A cottage damsel with a book of spells. And now…’
Sir Sneazle straightened. He replaced his smile just as King Arthur strode through the waiting hay carts.
CHAPTER 22
Dragon Anger
King Arthur was not alone. Behind him walked the bravest knights in the Kingdom, Sir Lancelot of the Lake, Sir Galahad, Sir Kay and Sir Gawaine—their swords at their belts.
The knights glanced curiously at the school, then more curiously at Grub on her round-eared white horse with its guinea pig whiskers, and even more curiously at Dad the dragon, seemingly lifeless, stretched out on the wagon.
‘Fine looking damsel that,’ said Sir Lancelot.
‘Fine looking dragon too,’ said Sir Gawaine. ‘Don’t often see a dragon of that size any more!’
‘Welcome, your Majesty!’ cried Sir Sneazle, showing all his yellow teeth in a smile as wide as a whole cheese. ‘So good of you to visit our school!’ He waved his hands at the boys, the dragon, the wagon, the furry-bummed horse, the invention, Mum and Grub. ‘Just a little homework demonstration!’
‘I’m always glad to take the time to see school work,’ said King Arthur heartily. ‘Best school in the Kingdom, this one!’
The King frowned slightly at the sight of Dad. ‘Not sure I approve of dragon hunting though. Damn few of them left after all.’
Sir Sneazle laughed. ‘Oh, the lad just got a little carried away, sire!’
‘Well behaved lads,’ remarked Sir Kay. ‘Don’t think I’ve ever seen a group of lads stand so still!’
‘Good discipline,’ smiled Sir Sneazle. ‘That’s the secret.’
King Arthur’s frown grew deeper. ‘All the same, I don’t like this dragon hunting,’ he began sternly, still staring at Dad.
Sir Sneazle waved his hands again.
‘Sting of wasp
And jellyfish bone,
Let these knights
Be turned to stone!’
The King and his knights stood still.
This can’t be happening! thought Horace frantically, trying to see everything out of the corner of his eye. The King and all the knights frozen while Sir Sneazle did—what?
Suddenly hay flew across the clearing. Men leapt from the hay carts—men in armour, with broadswords raised.
Saxons!
An invasion! thought Horace desperately. And none of the knights could do anything!
Sir Sneazle laughed delightedly. ‘How about we swap, your Majesty!’ he cried. ‘You can have my school! And I will take your castle! King Sneazle the First!’
He raised his arms to the troops picking hay out of their armour. ‘Charge!’ he yelled, pointing to the open city gates where the guards still waited unsuspecting.
No! thought Horace frantically. No! It can’t happen like this! The Kingdom is peaceful! What will happen to the farms? The crops? The men and women who’d smiled and waved at them just this morning?
Suddenly he felt anger rise up inside him—wild anger, furious and uncontained.
I’ve never felt anger like this before, thought Horace, stunned. It’s almost like…
Dragon anger!
He glanced at Grub out of the corner of his eye. It was happening to her too! Grub’s eyes were flashing red. Her skin glowed gold!
We’re half dragon! thought Horace triumphantly. And the dragon half is taking over!
Bunnnggg! And this time lights flashed properly, pink and blue and purple; and bells clanged as though they danced a jig.
‘Don’t you enchant my friends!’ roared Grub, unfurling her golden wings.
‘You leave our Kingdom alone!’ screamed Horace, as his massive tail lashed the ground.
Now Dad was rearing up too, flame billowing across the ground, hot and fast till it reached the hay carts. Now the hay was burning as well! The soldiers screamed, unable to run through the flames. Fire behind them, dragons in front of them…
‘Dead men’s fingers,
Corpses groan,’ muttered Sir Sneazle frantically.
‘It’s no use!’ roared Dad. ‘We’re dragons! Human magic can’t stop dragons!’
‘But…but,’ stammered Sir Sneazle.
‘Unenchant my wife, you varmint!’ boomed
Dad.
‘And the King and his knights and my friends!’ yelled Horace.
‘Especially Snidge!’ cried Grub. She blushed so her gold scales turned red. ‘He’s got nice eyes,’ she explained.
‘Never!’ screamed Sir Sneazle.
Hooosh! Dad rolled a carpet of flame towards him.
Hooooosh! Horace and Grub flapped their wings to urge the flame along.
‘Sea slug pus and earwig hair,
Lift me up into the air!’
Sir Sneazle hovered above the fire.
Zoom! Horace spread his wings and launched himself upwards.
He was flying!
Up…up…up…then suddenly he turned and swooped downward, grasping Sir Sneazle in his talons as he went.
‘Take that, seaweed whiskers!’ yelled Grub excitedly. She flapped up next to Horace and poked Sir Sneazle with her claws.
‘I give up!’ shrieked Sir Sneazle.
‘Unfreeze Mum and my friends and the King and his knights!’ commanded Horace.
Sir Sneazle shivered.
‘Seagull spit and jelly’s jiggle,
Let all here be free to wriggle!’ he announced desperately.
‘Tell your men to put down their weapons!’ ordered Horace.
‘Put down your weapons,’ cried Sir Sneazle, his legs jerking vainly as Horace dangled him. The soldiers put down their swords. ‘Hey, Mum!’ called Horace. ‘Can you move now?’
‘Yes, pet,’ Mum smiled up at Horace and Grub fondly. ‘You two make such lovely dragons! How could I ever have thought I didn’t want to marry a dragon all those years ago!’
‘Look Mum, this is no time to get sentimental! Can you make the swords disappear and put out the fires?’ yelled Horace.
‘Of course,’ said Mum. She thought for a minute.
‘Pigeon poo and walrus ear,
Make these weapons disappear!’
Bunnnggg! Sirens jangled and bells shrieked. A horde of pink rabbits hopped about where the swords had been.
‘Good enough,’ boomed Dad. ‘They can’t fight with pink rabbits!’
Hooosh! Dad’s breath blew out the flames in the burning hay.
The knights stretched. King Arthur raised his sword to Sir Sneazle. ‘Yield to the might of Camelot, Sir Sneazle!’ he yelled.
‘I yield!’ cried Sir Sneazle.
It was over.
CHAPTER 23
A Dragon Knight
King Arthur’s knights marched the Saxons off to the dungeons, with Sir Sneazle wrapped in iron chains. No sorcerer could make magic when he was wrapped in iron.
Horace gazed around the school. The schoolyard was a mess. The green grass was black or muddy and the school’s thatched roof was charred. But Camelot and the lands it protected were safe.
King Arthur gazed after the invaders, then shook his head. ‘They so nearly succeeded,’ he said quietly. ‘If it hadn’t been for you dragons they would have! How can I ever thank you?’ asked the King.
‘You can give us back Sir Bunny as our teacher,’ said Horace firmly. His anger had now subsided as he returned to human form, though he still had an urge to roar and spread his wings. ‘Sir Bunny is a great teacher.’
‘But his arthritis,’ began the King.
‘I think his arthritis will be better now that Sir Sneazle can’t enchant him any more,’ said Horace.
‘Done,’ said the King. ‘And I shall direct Sir Bunny to give every boy here an A for this year’s school work. And you my lad,’ King Arthur pointed at Horace, ‘kneel down.’
Horace knelt on the charred grass. The King tapped him lightly on each shoulder with his sword. ‘Rise, Sir Horace, Knight and Dragon of the Round Table.’
‘But…but I’m still at school!’ protested Sir Horace.
‘You can join us when you’ve finished your studies,’ promised the King.
‘And I’m a dragon!’ cried Sir Horace. ‘Half dragon,’ added Dad.
King Arthur smiled. ‘You are a brave and noble knight!’ he said. ‘Knights can come in many shapes and sizes!’
He turned to Dad. ‘What about you, Sir Dragon?’ demanded the King. ‘Do you wish to be a knight too?’
Dad shrugged, which did strange things to his dragon shoulders. ‘Not really. I’ve got my family, and my cave and my treasure,’ he said. ‘What more do I need?’
The King turned to Grub. ‘Fair damsel?’
‘Can girls be knights?’ demanded Grub.
The King shook his head. ‘Not for a thousand years,’ he said.
‘Huh!’ said Grub. ‘And I bet you still won’t let me go to school! In that case I’d like a new set of spanners, my own blacksmith’s forge and two tonnes of raw iron.’
‘You can use our blacksmith’s forge whenever you want to!’ offered Snidge.
‘And I will make sure you get the spanners and the iron,’ promised the King. He raised a royal eyebrow. ‘Are you sure you wouldn’t like a diamond necklace and some pearls, too?’
‘Errk,’ said Grub. ‘Thanks anyway, your Majesty. I like tools better than diamonds. They’re more useful.’
‘And I’d like a jar of pickled snails’ eggs,’ said Mum promptly. ‘It’s so difficult to get pickled snails’ eggs in our village and there are lots of spells you need them for.’
‘Done,’ said the King. He smiled at them. ‘I’ll tell Sir Bunny he is needed directly,’ he said.
Another blast of the trumpets and he was gone.
‘Well!’ said Dad, stretching his wings.
‘Well!’ said Mum, straightening her hat.
Bran wrinkled his forehead. ‘I don’t understand,’ he said. ‘You’re not really a dragon are you?’ he asked Dad.
Dad glanced at Sir Horace and Grub. ‘Yes,’ he said apologetically.
Bran turned to Horace and Grub. ‘Then you’re dragons too!’
Horace lifted his chin proudly. ‘Half dragons!’ he said. He waited for his friends to show disgust.
‘Gadzooks!’ yelled Bran eagerly. ‘Can you take us flying?’
‘Can you use your flame on our blackmith’s forge?’ Snidge asked Grub eagerly. ‘You look even better as a dragon than you do as a damsel!’ he added enthusiastically.
‘Just wait till I tell everyone at Badger’s Bottom,’ cried Bernard happily.
‘Just think. I know some dragons!’ Pol bounced with excitement.
‘Well, I don’t know if we can take you all flying,’ said Dad dubiously. ‘There’s really only room for one person at a time on a dragon’s back!’
‘Don’t bother about me,’ said Mum. She smiled happily at Dad. ‘I have a dragon of my own! I can go flying whenever I want!’
‘I’ll take Snidge,’ said Grub at once.
‘I’ll take you then, lad,’ Dad said to Pol.
‘I’ll take Bernard,’ said Horace. ‘But what about Bran?’
‘I’ll take him!’ someone boomed. Something large and reddish-gold landed among the ashes of the hay carts.
It was Sparkie. ‘I’ll take your friend,’ she said to Horace. ‘But you needn’t be jealous! I saw everything! You’re really cute as a dragon!’ she added.
Bunnnggg! The air of Camelot was filled with chimes and sparkles!
One by one the dragons leapt into the air. Higher and higher they flew, weaving in and out of the clouds, over the towered battlements of Camelot, the tawny
fields of grain, the gold fields of hay, the cottages and the river sparkling below them in the sunlight.
Down by the school Mum gazed up and smiled. Then she climbed on Grub’s invention and pedalled home to tell Doorknocker all about it.
CHAPTER 24
Dragon Tales
Camelot faded from history, and so did the dragons. You’ll only find Camelot and dragons in stories now.
But maybe the dragons haven’t really vanished. Perhaps Horace had kids, and maybe Grub too, and their children had children.
It’s possible some kid reading this today will look at his hands and se
e the tiny webs between his fingers; or will look in the mirror when she’s angry and see her eyes are gleaming red. And sometimes if you look at hair in the sunlight it can shine like a dragon’s scales.
And maybe one day, if they feel deeply about something once more, the dragons will cast off their human form and soar again across the skies.
My Uncle Gus the GARDEN GNOME
To everyone at Denistone East Public
School—there are no mad scientist or
vampire teachers, but it’s a joy of a school.
JF
For Lore
SMK
CHAPTER 1
The Bad Luck Spell
It was an ordinary day.
Outside the classroom the broomsticks, flying horses and tame dragons hovered above the basketball court as mums arrived to pick up their kids. There was Grizella’s magic carpet too, with her genie chauffeur, carefully steering the carpet between the dragon droppings.
Tom glanced up at the clock imp sitting on the top shelf. It held up a sign that read, ‘Hold on kid, only ten minutes more and the bell will go!’ Tom grinned. He liked school, but he liked knock-off time better.
‘Now!’ gurgled Dr Maniac, pointing to the diagram on the blackboard with a cackle of insane laughter. ‘If we put a donkey brain into a mouse, what do we get?’
Grizella put up her hand.
‘Yes, Grizella?’
‘A heck of a mess, sir,’ she said smugly, tossing her long blonde hair and glancing over at Tom, hoping he’d noticed.
‘Quite right, Grizella!’ Dr Maniac gave another burst of insane laughter.
Sometimes Tom wondered what it would be like to have a witch or an ogre for a teacher, instead of a mad scientist. Uncle Gus had explained that mad scientists had to laugh insanely—mad laughter was one of the first things mad scientists studied at uni.
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