Free World's Oldest Living Dragon by Kate McMullan Page B

cane in the air. “I’ve got ‘dragon,’ I tell you!”„
    â€œPooh, Roger,” said Sir Poodleduff. “You cheated!”
    â€œI never cheat!” cried Sir Roger. “Except in emergencies.”
    â€œPor favor!” said Donn. “Please! No fighting!”
    Sir Roger read back the letters and numbers on his card.
    â€œBueno!” cried Donn when he finished. “You win, Sir Roger!”
    â€œAll right!” said Sir Roger. “What’s the prize?”
    â€œAn autographed drawing of Sir Lancelot!” said Donn, handing it to him.
    â€œZounds!” cried Erica. “I wish I had won that!”
    But Sir Roger rolled his eyes as he took it. “Some prize,” he muttered. “A picture of a has-been.”
    Erica gasped. “Sir Lancelot? A has-been?” She turned to Wiglaf. “What can he mean?”
    Wiglaf only shrugged.
    â€œAnd look!” cried Sir Roger. “It’s not a real autograph. Even I can see that! Lancelot’s name has been rubber-stamped on the drawing. Fie!” He thrust it at Sir Poodleduff. “Here, you take it.”
    â€œI don’t want it!” cried Sir Poodleduff.
    â€œPor favor!” cried Donn. “Stop fighting!”
    â€œYes, stop!” cried Erica. She stepped forward. “Sir Lancelot is a perfect knight. He is my hero.”
    â€œHe was a hero once,” said Sir Roger.
    â€œBut not anymore,” said Sir Poodleduff.
    â€œOf course he is!” cried Erica. “Get your ear horns ready, aged knights. You shall hear the poem I have written about Sir Lancelot.” Her words rang out:
    â€œMany knights are good knights,
Though some few knights are not,
But one knight shines above the rest,
Ne’er will he be forgot.”
    As Erica recited, Wiglaf noticed the plump knight’s cheeks growing red.
    â€œFor this knight is the bravest knight
In all of Camelot,
The one, the only perfect knight,
The good Sir Lancelot.”
    â€œPooh!” called Sir Poodleduff.
    â€œHear this poem,” called Sir Roger.
    â€œHe eats a lot, Sir Lancelot!
And then he splits his pants a lot!”
    All the aged knights roared with laughter.
    Wiglaf saw that the plump knight was slouching way down in his chair. He looked as if he were trying to hide. Now Wiglaf was sure he had seen this knight before.
    â€œFine!” Erica shouted over the jeering. Her face was red. She looked angry. “I shall stop. But ’tis true. Sir Lancelot is a perfect knight.”
    A smile crept onto the dark-haired knight’s face.
    Wiglaf gave a sudden gasp. He grabbed Erica’s arm.
    â€œThat chubby knight,” he whispered. “He looks like Sir Lancelot!”

Chapter 2
    Erica stared at the chubby knight.
    â€œYou’re right, Wiggie,” she said at last. “Yet Sir Lancelot never wrote a word in his autobiography, A Knight Like I, about any overweight relative.”
    Donn tooted on a silver whistle. “Bueno, señores!” he called. “Snack time!”
    Angus perked up. “Think we get a snack, too?”
    Waiters began bringing in silver bowls of salted nuts and goblets of juice.
    The chubby knight waved the waiters over. “Bowl of nuts—right here!”
    While the snack was being served, Erica rushed over to the chubby knight. Wiglaf and the others were right behind her.
    â€œSir!” Erica said. “I have had the honor of meeting Sir Lancelot in person. And, except for an extra fifty pounds, you look very like him. Are you perhaps his cousin?”
    â€œNay,” said the knight, his chubby cheeks reddening. “I am Lancelot.”
    Erica’s mouth dropped open. “YOU are my hero, Sir Lancelot of the Lake?”
    The knight raised his silver juice goblet and gazed at his reflection. “Yes, I am Lancelot,” he said. “But my hero days are over.”
    â€œOh, sir! What happened? Tell us, please.”