A Wedding for Wiglaf? Read Free

Mordred was the cause of this mess. He would never pick him. Angus and Erica were his good friends. But his most trusted friend in the world? That was his pig, Daisy. Wiglaf almost laughed, thinking what Mordred and Lobelia would say if he suggested that Daisy be in the wedding. A best pig! They would think he had lost his mind!
    And suddenly Wiglaf realized that’s just what he would say! If Mordred and Lobelia thought he was crazy, maybe they would give up trying to make him marry the princess.
    “My best friend must stand by me!” Wiglaf declared.
    “Fine,” Lobelia said. “Just tell me his name. I will have him measured for a new tunic.”
    “It is a she,” Wiglaf said. “My pig, Daisy.”
    “Your pig? Over my dead body!” Mordred roared.
    “Daisy must stand by me!” Wiglaf smiled strangely. He tried to look quite mad.
    “I’ll roast that pig of yours for the wedding supper!” Mordred roared.
    “Stop, Mordie,” Lobelia said. “Clearly the pig cannot be the best man. But picture this. Daisy as...the flower girl!”
    “Have you lost your mind?” Mordred bellowed.
    “Not her, me!” Wiglaf cried. “I’m the one who’s lost my mind!”
    “Shush!” Lobelia said. “A flower pig has never been done. It’s new. Cutting-edge! What a statement it would make!”
    Panic gripped Wiglaf. He had not counted on this! How could Lobelia want a pig in a wedding? He had to do something fast.
    “Yes! Here’s the statement it would make!” Wiglaf said. And he started oinking like a pig.
    “Stop that, Wiglaf,” ordered Lobelia. “It would say our lives are connected to the earth. To beasts—the pig. This is such a fine idea,” she added. “Perhaps the hens should be in the wedding, too.”
    “Ooooh! I feel a headache coming on!” Mordred groaned. “All right, Lobelia. Make what plans you will. But I warn you...” He raised one bushy eyebrow. “Don’t do a thing that will put a stop to this wedding. For I shall let nothing— nothing!— stand between me and that pot of gold!”

Chapter 4
    W iglaf stumbled into the dorm room late that night. But Angus and Erica had waited up for him.
    “What happened, Wiggie?” Erica whispered. “Did you talk Mordred out of this crazy idea?”
    Wiglaf shook his head. “Mordred wrote Belcheena that he had found the perfect husband for her.... Me!” he wailed. “Yorick is on his way to Mildew Palace with the letter right now!”
    “Well, look at the bright side,” Angus advised. “You will be very rich.”
    “What do I care for riches?” Wiglaf moaned.
    “You can order the best suit of armor from The Sir Lancelot Catalog,” Erica pointed out. “And the ruby-handled sword!”
    Wiglaf pictured the handsome ruby-handled sword from Erica’s catalog. That part didn’t sound so bad.
    “No more lumpen pudding,” Angus said. “And no more Scrubbing Class!”
    “I hadn’t thought about that,” Wiglaf said.
    “And someone will wait on you, hand and foot,” Erica added. “You’ll like that, Wiggie.”
    Wiglaf smiled. “That’s Prince Wiggie to you!” Then his smile faded. “But I don’t want to get mar... Oh, why did Mordred write that letter?”
    “You know...” Angus said thoughtfully. “We, too, can write a letter.”
    Erica grinned. “Our letter could say how awful Wiglaf of Pinwick really is!”
    “Yes!” Wiglaf cried. “Let us write it now!”
    Erica ran off to her bunk. She quickly returned with paper and a goose quill pen.
    “You write it, Angus.” She gave him the supplies. “You have the worst handwriting.”
    “All right,” Angus agreed. He settled himself on the floor. “What shall I write?”
    “Dear Princess Belcheena,” Wiglaf began. “A greedy matchmaker wrote you of a redheaded dragon slayer, Wiglaf of Pinwick. He wrote that Wiglaf would make you a perfect husband. Nothing could be further from the truth!”
    “Let me add a bit,” Erica said. And she took over. “You will know Wiglaf when you see him by the handsome