Free Igraine the Brave by Cornelia Funke Page B

heads that size on my neck!”
    Its scaly body was so large that it entirely blocked the path between the slope and the river. Igraine was just wondering how they were ever going to get past it when the Sorrowful Knight turned in his saddle.
    “There’s someone coming,” he told her softly. “Draw your sword.”
    Igraine obeyed. She heard the sound of galloping hooves, the clank of armor, and dogs barking.
    The dragon hunched all three heads down between its shoulders in alarm. “I know who that is!” it hissed. “I just can’t seem to shake him off. I suppose I’ll have to wave good-bye to another head now!”
    “No, you won’t,” said Igraine, turning Lancelot so that he was standing in front of the dripping-wet dragon. The Sorrowful Knight brought his horse up beside her, and laid his sword over his knees. Igraine did the same.
    “What’s all this about?” asked the dragon, taken aback.
    “We will protect you, fire-worm,” replied the Sorrowful Knight. “Or have you ever done the One-Eyed Duke wrong?”
    “Of course not,” cried the dragon. “I’ve never done a living soul wrong. I haven’t cut off one of anyone’s heads! I feed on moonlight, and all I want is to lie in my cave and be left in peace.”
    “Indeed, that is not too much to ask,” said the Sorrowful Knight.
    “Here he comes!” cried Igraine.
    Four hounds, barking, raced down the path. Behind them galloped a knight on a large horse, which was also wearing armor. The rider’s visor was open, and Igraine saw that he wore an eye patch embroidered with pearls. The coat of arms on his shield was a dragon’s head. When the hounds saw the strange knights they stopped in surprise, growled, and put their ears back. Their master, taken aback, reined his horse in.
    “Out of my way, you!” he roared. “That’s my dragon. I’ve been after it for weeks. What’s more, you’re trespassing on my property. So clear off, and get a move on!”
    The hounds growled louder than ever and cautiously ventured a little closer.
    “Run for it, dragon,” said Igraine over her shoulder, without taking her eyes off the Duke. “And if you want to be rid of this one-eyed idiot forever, move to the Whispering Woods. No one hunts dragons there.”
    The dragon’s three pairs of eyes looked incredulously down at her. Then it turned and scuttled away as fast as its scaly legs would carry it.
    “Stop! Stop, blast you!” bellowed the One-Eyed Duke, so angry that he almost fell off his horse. “You two will be sorry for this! That was the only three-headed dragon in my forests!”
    With a brusque movement he drew his sword, waved it over his head, uttered a loud roar, and stormed forward.
    “Leave this to me,” the Sorrowful Knight whispered to Igraine. Without waiting for her answer, he raised his shield and urged his horse on along the narrow path to meet the One-Eyed Duke.
    The Duke slammed his sword down on the Sorrowful Knight’s shield so furiously that Igraine could hardly see or hear for the noise. But the Sorrowful Knight didn’t seem particularly impressed. Effortlessly, he fended off the wild sword strokes, then suddenly lowered his shield. The Duke immediately went at the target so easily offered, and the Sorrowful Knight answered with a blow that struck the sword from his hand. It flew through the air and landed in the river. The Duke, taken aback, watched it go — and fell backward off his horse when the Sorrowful Knight dealt him another blow on the breastplate. His hounds licked his face as he landed among them, and his horse jumped into the river, swam to the opposite bank, and stood there with its reins dangling.
    The Sorrowful Knight rode over to his fallen opponent, dismounted, and looked down at him. “Do you require my help?” he asked.
    “No!” shouted the One-Eyed Duke. “You were lucky, that’s all! Tell me your name, so that I can find you and take revenge for this disgrace!”
    Without a word, Igraine’s companion put his