Free Wheel of Misfortune by Kate McMullan Page B

didn’t seem to hear her. He was beaming at Bragwort.
    “Worry not, sir,” Bragwort put in. “With me on the team, losing is impossible!”
    “We must prepare,” Erica said. “Let us go up to the library. Surely Brother Dave will have some excellent books to lend us.”
    “Sorry,” said Mordred. “No time for that sort of thing. The teams must register at Knights Noble Conservatory tomorrow evening. You’ll have to leave right away. I shall come to KNC on Saturday afternoon to take home the gold that you have won for me. Score high, lads! Now, be gone!”
    “I’m already packed,” Bragwort told his teammates. “I’ll meet you by the gatehouse.”
    Wiglaf, Erica, and Angus hurried to the Class I dorm room. Wiglaf quickly threw his things into his pack: his rusty sword, a change of underwear, and his least dirty socks. Then the three stopped by the DSA kitchen.
    “Just in time to finish up before suppertime.” Frypot said when he saw them. “There is still a layer of boar grease on the cauldron.”
    “Sorry, sir,” said Wiglaf. “But we must journey through the Dark Forest this very night.”
    “Whatever for?” asked Frypot.
    “Mordred has chosen us to represent DSA in the All-Schools Brain-Power Tournament at KNC,” Erica said proudly.
    “May we have some food to take along?” asked Angus. “And some for Bragwort, too, I suppose.”
    “And please, sir,” Wiglaf added, “no lumpen pudding.”
    “What!” cried Frypot. “Insult my lumpen pudding, will you?”
    “I did not mean to...” Wiglaf began.
    “I make the best lumpen pudding this side of Camelot,” Frypot muttered. “But it’s not good enough for you picky eaters.” He grumbled darkly to himself as he banged jars and flasks around.
    “Nice going, Wiglaf,” said Angus, who took matters of food quite seriously. “Now Frypot will fix us something awful.”
    At last Frypot handed them four packages wrapped in parchment. “Jellied eel with a side of eel fries,” he said. “And for dessert...”
    “Yes?” said Angus eagerly.
    “Eel custard,” Frypot said. “Baked it just last week.” He frowned. “Or was it the week before?”
    The DSA team made faces behind Frypot’s back. But they took their food and hurried from the kitchen. They ran out into the castle yard. Daylight was fading fast.
    As they headed for the gatehouse, Wiglaf heard a voice calling: “Iglaf-way! Ait-way!”
    Wiglaf squinted into the dusk. He saw his pet pig, Daisy, trotting across the castle yard toward him. Daisy had traveled with Wiglaf from his father’s cabbage farm in Pinwick. On the way, a wizard had put a speech spell on her. Now she could speak, but only in Pig Latin.
    “Hello, Daisy old girl,” Wiglaf said. “You have come just in time to see us off.”
    “Oing-gay ow-nay?” asked Daisy. “In-yay ee-thay ark-day?”
    “Yes, we’re going in the dark.” Angus nodded. “We must be at KNC by tomorrow evening. »
    “Et-lay ee-may ome-cay ith-way oo-yay,” Daisy suggested.
    “Come with us?” Wiglaf said. “Oh, Daisy, I think not. For we are to match wits with other lads in a brain-power contest.”
    “I-yay an-cay ee-bay our-yay oach-cay,” Daisy said.
    “You? Be our coach?” said Angus.
    “But what does a pig know about answering really, really hard questions?” Erica asked.
    “Enty-play,” said Daisy. “Other-bray Ave-day ings-bray ee-may ooks-bay om-fray ee-thay ibrary-lay. I-yay ead-ray all-yay ay-day.”
    Erica turned to Wiglaf. “Is this true?” she asked. “Does Brother Dave really bring her library books?”
    Wiglaf nodded. “Daisy reads three or four books a day.”
    “Then perhaps she can help us,” Erica said thoughtfully.
    “She could quiz us as we walk,” said Angus.
    Wiglaf smiled. “We shall be glad of your company, Daisy,” he said. “Let us be off.”
    They walked to the gatehouse.
    “Took you long enough,” Bragwort said when they reached him. “I, myself, am never late.” He frowned at Daisy.