Damsel Disaster! Read Free

thrown in.
    “Thanks, Margaret,” I said. “What is it? It smells – um –
interesting
.”
    “It’s one of me noo budget recipes,” said Margaret proudly. “Snake and kidney pie. I had to change it a bit, mind. The butcher swore them kidneys was only a week old, but it turns out they was off.”
    “No
way
,” said Patchcoat, pretending to sound surprised.
    “Aye,” said Margaret, giving him a beady stare. “So I chucked in a few old fish heads to disguise the smell. Took me ages to find ’em. They was right at the bottom of the slop bucket.”

    “Er, thanks, Margaret,” I said queasily. I stuffed the bundle into my saddlebag.
    “Yum!” said Patchcoat, as we rode on. “Lucky Sir Percy!”

    A couple of hours later we were riding up a long, wooded hill in a part of the country I didn’t know.
    “Not much further now, chaps,” called Sir Percy cheerfully, as we passed a signpost that said LADYBURG 5 MILES.
    I turned to Patchcoat. “I wonder what the challenge will be.”
    “No idea,” said Patchcoat. “But I’m surprised Sir Percy sounds so jolly. If there’s a test of bravery you’d think he’d be getting a bit nervous by now. I wonder if he’s up to something.”
    Hmm. It was true. Whatever it said in
The Song of Percy
, my master normallytried to wriggle out of anything that was actually dangerous. Could he be planning to cheat? It didn’t take long to find out.
    “Cedric,” said Sir Percy. “I trust you have
The Song of Percy
in your saddlebag?”
    “Of course, Sir Percy,” I said.
    “Excellent,” said Sir Percy. “The moment we meet the princess I will simply slip her my book. She will read it and see at once that I am the suitor for her. Although of course she probably has a copy already. Pass it here, would you, Cedric?”
    I opened my saddlebag and took out the small leather-bound book. As I handed it over a sharp pong from inside the bag reminded me of Margaret’s pie.
    “Oh, Sir Percy,” I said. “I forgot to mention – Margaret’s made you a pie.”
    “Goody!” said Sir Percy. “Kindly pass it over. I’m ravenous!”
    I gave Sir Percy the cloth bundle.
    “Um – rather interesting
aroma
, Cedric,” he said, unwrapping the pie. “What’s in it?”
    “It’s Margaret’s own – er – special recipe, Sir Percy,” I said.
    Sir Percy hungrily wolfed down a huge chunk. As he swallowed it he went cross-eyed and gave a shudder. He tried to speak but all that came out was “
Whauugh!
” “
Eeeesh!
” and “
Gaaah!
”
    “Are you all right, Sir Percy?” I asked.
    He belched very loudly. A foul blast of cabbagey-sewery-fishy breath blew over me and Patchcoat.

    “Pardon me!” gasped Sir Percy. “Gosh! Well, that’s – er – certainly cured my appetite, Cedric.” He passed me the pie. “Here. You’re – um – most welcome to finish it. One doesn’t like to be
greedy
.”
    “Er – thanks, Sir Percy,” I said, stuffing what was left of the pie back in my saddlebag. “I’ll save it for later.”
    As we neared the top of the hill, a rather ominous glooping and gurgling noise started to come from Sir Percy’s tummy. It got louder and louder. And then Sir Percy began making some
other
very loud noises, too. Let’s just say Patchcoat and I were glad the breeze was coming from behind us.
    We reached the crest of the hill. About a mile ahead, down in a broad valley, a jumble of roofs and spires peeped up over the walls of a small town.
    “That’s Ladyburg right in front of us!” called Patchcoat.
    Ladyburg stood on the shores of a wide lake. From the island in the middle of the lake rose a castle. It was surrounded by trees and its six tall pointy towers glistened in the sunshine.
    “And that must be Noman Castle,” I said.
    “Marvellous!” said Sir Percy. “We should easily get there by midday.”
    But as we headed down the hill we saw that the road in front of us was crowded with men all the way to the gates of the town.
    “Excuse me,