A Wedding for Wiglaf? Read Free Page A

wart on the tip of his nose. His lips are always nicely moist, for his drooling keeps them wet. Are you fond of dogs? I ask, for Wiglaf’s breath is so like that of a hound. His teeth are artistically arranged. Some lean to the left. Others to the right. Still others lean way out of his mouth.”
    “Enough about my looks,” Wiglaf said quickly.
    Erica nodded. “Wiglaf would rather walk a mile on burning coals than marry you,” she went on. “But he is a fortune hunter. And you have a fortune. So he shall wed you for your gold.” Erica smiled. “That is enough, I think.”
    Wiglaf took the pen. He signed the letter, “From a True Friend at DSA.” He blew on the ink to dry it. Then he rolled the letter up. Erica tied it with a ribbon.
    “Let us keep this mar...mar...this thing a secret,” Wiglaf suggested. “I have no wish for the other students here to know about it.”
    “I shan’t say a word,” Angus promised.
    “Me either,” Erica said. “I swear it on my genuine Sir Lancelot sword!”
    The three friends locked pinkies to seal their promise.
    “Maybe Yorick is back from Mildew Palace by now,” Erica said. “Let’s go see.”
    They tiptoed out of the dorm. They ran silently through the hallways and across the castle yard. Wiglaf opened the door to the gatehouse. But it was empty except for a large rock on a pile of straw.
    “Too bad,” Angus said. “Yorick isn’t here.”
    Suddenly the rock sat up. A hand reached out and slipped off a gray hood.
    “Yorick!” Wiglaf exclaimed. “We thought you were a rock.”
    “That’s the idea,” Yorick said, getting to his feet. “This is my rock disguise—gray tights, a gray tunic, gray hood. When I spot trouble, I squat down by the side of the road. People take me for a rock and walk on by.”
    “We have a letter, Yorick,” Wiglaf said. “It must be delivered to Mildew Palace right away.”
    “I just got back from there!” Yorick exclaimed. “I’m not going again so soon. Not on your life.”
    “I shall pay you a penny,” Angus offered.
    “No, Angus!” Wiglaf cried. “Your mother gave you that penny for your birthday!”
    “It’s a small price to pay to keep you from getting married and—oops!” Angus clapped a hand to his mouth.
    “Wiglaf’s getting married?” Yorick asked.
    “Not if I can help it,” Wiglaf said quickly. “That’s why we need you to take this letter.”
    Angus gave Yorick the penny. Yorick bit down on it to make sure it was real.
    “I’m off!” Yorick took the letter from Wiglaf. He tucked it into his tunic. And he hurried away.
    Tomorrow morning, Wiglaf thought, Princess Belcheena will read this letter. And she will never want to lay eyes on Wiglaf of Pinwick!
    Wiglaf, Angus, and Erica started back across the yard. They had almost reached the castle when a voice called: “Halt! Who goes there?”
    Wiglaf froze. So did Angus and Erica.
    “Oh, it’s you three,” the voice said. It belonged to Coach Plungett. “I thought I’d caught a pack of thieves on my watch,” Coach said with a chuckle. He put his sword away. “What are you lads doing out here at this time of night?”
    “We...uh,” Wiglaf began. “We were just...”
    “We couldn’t sleep,” Erica put in.
    “Couldn’t sleep, eh?” Coach looked up at the starry sky. “I once suffered from sleepless nights,” he said. “It was long ago. I couldn’t sleep for thinking of my lady love.”
    “You were in love!” Angus cried. “Yuck!”
    Wiglaf smiled. It was funny to think of Coach Plungett in love. And yet...Coach had never married. How had he escaped?
    “Excuse me, Coach?” Wiglaf said. “If I may ask—how is it you never mar...mar...”
    “Married?” Coach said. “I was a lowly squire and my lady love’s father thought I’d never amount to a hill of beans. One night he sent his henchmen to tell me to go. Said they’d stab me full of holes if I returned. There were twenty of them. And only one of me. So I rode off. I thought it