Never Trust a Troll! Read Online Free Page B

dangled from the rope. “A swift kick in the backside if you don’t hoist me in—now!”
    Wiglaf grinned. The aged knight was fearless! But what if Grock dropped him?
    “To the rope!” cried Wiglaf.
    He and Janice and Erica and Dudwin and the others rushed the troll and yanked away the rope.
    “Awwww, I was only fooling, wasn’t I?” said Grock.
    Wiglaf and the others gave one last pull and hoisted Sir Mort himself through the window. Then they helped the old knight to his feet and he clanked up to the front of the classroom.
    “Bubbles von Troubles has been seen in the Swamp River near Toenail,” Sir Mort announced.
    “Oh, woe is Toenail!” cried Torblad.
    “The dragon is said to be heading south. Or... is it north?” The old knight scratched his helmet. “The thing is, he’s on his way to DSA.”
    “Why do you think Bubbles is coming here, sir?” Erica asked.
    “He’s after me, of course,” said Sir Mort.
    “Guh-huh! Guh-huh! Guh-huh!” Grock laughed. “Why would a dragon come after a geezer like ye?”
    Sir Mort drew himself up tall. “In my glory days, I slew Bubbles’s mate, Duckie McScales,” he said. “Slew isn’t quite the word. But I put her out of commission. Duckie was an enormous water dragon. She came at me with her duckbill open wide—a bill lined with razor-sharp fangs. Duckie chomped down and nearly bit off my right arm. Or...was it my left?”
    “But, sir,” said Erica.
    “I drew my sword,” said Sir Mort, keeping on with his story. “And I jabbed Duckie in the abdo-shrinka-dinka-puss. Right here.” He pointed to a dragon’s belly on a wall chart and made a sword-thrusting motion with his left arm.
    “But, sir!” called Erica.
    Sir Mort kept talking. “That dragon gave a terrible quack, and then she started shrinking. When a fire-breathing dragon dies, it turns to dragon dust. But when a water-spewing dragon dies, it shrinks. And Duckie shrank down, down, down until she was no bigger than a bath toy.” He chuckled. “I keep her in a drawer now. On a sunny day, I like to take her outside and give her a little float on the moat.”
    “SIR!” shouted Erica. “In Famous Knights and Their Deeds, it says that Duckie McScales was slain by Sir Trom, the brave and bold.”
    Wiglaf remembered reading that on the message tree.
    Sir Mort clattered over to the chalkboard and wrote: T-R-O-M.
    “Spell it backward, lads and lasses,” said the old knight.
    As the students spelled, the old knight wrote: M-O-R-T.
    “Trom is Mort, spelled backward?” said Wiglaf.
    “Bingo!” said Sir Mort. “Once, I was Sir Trom. I slew more dragons before breakfast than most knights slay in a year.”
    All the students gasped. Their ancient teacher had once been the boldest knight alive!
    The old knight frowned. “Then Bubbles came after me to get revenge. No matter where I went, he found me. I went questing in the mountains. Bubbles quested after me. I sailed off to a desert island. Bubbles swam after me. That’s why I changed my name.”
    “Did it stop Bubbles, sir?” asked Angus.
    “Yes, indeed!” Sir Mort smiled. “Sir Trom disappeared from the face of the earth. And Bubbles couldn’t find him.”
    “Then why is he coming after you now, sir?” asked Wiglaf.
    The smile faded from Sir Mort’s ancient lips. “Last week, there was an article in The Medieval Times on the world’s oldest living knights,” he told the class. “There were drawings of Sir Roger and Sir Poodleduff and me on the front page. Bubbles must have seen the paper and recognized me. For from the very day my picture appeared, I began hearing rumors that Bubbles was getting closer and closer to Dragon Slayers’ Academy.”
    Wiglaf frowned. He remembered something else he had read on the message tree flyer. Bubbles was very dangerous. Poor Sir Mort!
    “Have no fear, Sir Mort!” cried Erica. “We shall slay this dragon for you!”
    “What’s his secret weakness?” called Dudwin.
    “Something to do with his