Chapter 2

"Knock! Knock!" Fergus bellowed one fine summer morning at the breakfast table.

Wiglaf didn't answer. He poked at his cabbage pancake, lost in his own thoughts.

It had been months since the minstrel went away. And as far as Wiglaf could tell, he had not become a hero. True, he had saved a chipmunk from drowning in the pigs' water trough. And he had rescued six spiders from his brothers' cruel hands. But surely these were not the deeds of a mighty hero.

Wiglaf kept brooding. He never noticed Fergus bending down close to his ear.

"KNOCK! KNOCK!" Fergus shouted.

Wiglaf jumped. "Who – who's there?"

"Harry!" Fergus cried.

"Harry who?" asked Wiglaf.

"Harry up and eat your pancakes!" Fergus roared. "We go to the Pinwick Fair today!"

"Hooray!" yelled one of Wiglaf's little brothers. "Jugglers and lepers! Let us be off!"

"And so we shall be," Molwena promised, "as soon as Wiglaf does the dishes."

"We could be off sooner if someone dried," Wiglaf hinted.

"Nah," said the eldest brother. "We'll wait."

And so Wiglaf scrubbed the dishes. Then he dried them. Then he put them away.

At last the family set off for the village.

Just outside Pinwick, Fergus stopped beside the village message tree. He squinted at a new notice tacked to its trunk.

"Wiglaf!" Fergus shouted. "The minstrel showed you how to make sense of these squiggles. Tell us what the sign says!"

Wiglaf stepped up and read: "Dragon Slayers' Academy."

Fergus frowned. "Acada…what?"

"Academy," Wiglaf repeated. "It means school."

"I know that," his father said. "Go on."

"We teach our students to slay dragons," Wiglaf read.

Slay dragons? Wiglaf thought with growing interest. Heroes slayed dragons!>

"And," he read on, "they bring the dragons' hoards home to you!"

"The dragons' hoards?" Fergus scratched his armpit thoughtfully. "That would be…what?"

"Gold and jewels, most likely," Wiglaf replied.

"Blazing King Ken's britches!" Fergus roared "Read it all!" Which is just what Wiglaf was dying to do:

Is there a lazy lad hanging about your hovel? Is he eating more than his share of your good cabbage soup? Don't you wish he could earn his keep?

"I'll say," snorted Molwena.

Dragon Slayers' Academy is your answer! Feast your eyes on just a few of our classes:>

• How to Stalk a Fire-Breather
• How to Get Close to a Dragon
• How to Get Even Closer
• How to Get Really, Really Close
• 101 Ways to Slay

Best of all, we will teach your boy how to bring a dragon's golden hoard home to you!

Just look at what some of our fine lads have done:

Baldrick the Bold
Baldrick slew three dragons! With their golden hoards, he bought his lucky parents a 450-room castle!

"That would do for us," Molwena muttered.

Torblad the Terrible
Two kills. Two hoards. Now his mum and pop just lie about and watch other folk work.

"Oh, boy!" said Fergus.

Angus the Avenger
Angus slew a whole nest of dragon young! His parents now dress in nothing but silk and velvet.

"Do they, now?!" Molwena exclaimed. "I wonder how much this school costs."

The fee? Only 7 pennies! (Plus a teensy part of each hoard.) Send us your sons! We turn useless lads into HEROES who go for the gold!>

Signed,
Mordred the Marvelous, Headmaster, DSA (Located just off Huntsman's Path, east of the Dark Forest)>

Dragon slaying, thought Wiglaf, it sounded pretty gruesome. But dragons were evil. They deserved to be slain—didn't they? And who slew them? Mighty heroes, that's who!

Maps tacked to the tree showed the way from Pinwick to Dragon Slayers' Academy. Wiglaf pulled one off and stared at it. Here was a path he might follow to become a hero!

"Father?" Wiglaf began eagerly, "I would—"

"Quiet!" Fergus barked. He turned to his eldest son. "Do you want to go to the acad…to the school?" he asked him.

The eldest son picked at a scab on his ear. "Would I get in trouble for fighting and knocking other boys' teeth out?" he asked.

Fergus nodded. "You might."

"I wouldn't like that," the eldest declared.

Wiglaf tried again. "Father, I—"

"Shush!" Fergus turned to his second-eldest. "Do you want to go to the school?" he asked him.

The second-eldest scratched a bedbug bite on his neck. "Would I have to comb my hair and change my britches?" he asked.

Fergus nodded again. "Most likely."

"Then I won't go," the second-eldest said.

"I will, Father!" Wiglaf exclaimed. "Pray, send me!"

But Fergus only rolled his eyes and turned to his fourth-eldest. "You're a big, strapping lad," he began. "How would you—"

"Wait, Father!" Wiglaf cut in. "Think on this: If I slay a dragon, I shall bring you a mountain of gold! You would like that, would you not?"

"Yes…" Fergus nodded slowly.

"And if the dragon gets the better of me?" Wiglaf went on. "Well, you say I am no use to you in the cabbage fields anyway!"

"Hmm…" Fergus tugged at a chicken bone that had been tangled in his beard all week. "I have it!" he roared at last. "I shall sendWiglaf to the dragon school! He is no use to me in the cabbage fields anyway!"

"That's a fine idea, Fergus," Molwena put in. "But what about the seven pennies? Where would we get that kind of money?"

Fergus shrugged. "That pig of his should bring seven pennies."

"You mean, sell Daisy?" Wiglaf cried.

Wiglaf's younger brother wiped his nose on his sleeve. "Daddy?" he said. "When Wiglaf goes, can I have his goatskin to sleep under?"

"Yes, all right," replied his father.

"But—" Wiglaf began.

"Can I have his spoon, then?" asked his even younger brother.

"Yes, yes," answered Fergus.

"Can I have his boots?" asked his still younger brother. "And his britches and his tunic?"

"Wait!" Wiglaf cried. "I'm not dead, am I? I still need my clothes! And I shall never sell Daisy! Never!"

"Oh, do be quiet," Molwena scolded. "How else are you going to get seven pennies?"

Wiglaf folded his arms across his chest. "I shall find a way."

"Mommy," one of the younger brothers whined, "I want to go to the fair! I want to see the two-headed calf."

"Of course you do!" Molwena exclaimed. "And we don't want to miss the hanging." She turned away from the tree, and the rest of the family followed.

All but Wiglaf. He struggled behind, thinking. He was going away to Dragon Slayers' Academy! And, somehow, he was going to keep Daisy by his side.

Wiglaf smiled. At last he was on his way to becoming a mighty hero.

Excerpted from THE NEW KID AT SCHOOL © Copyright 2002 by Kate McMullan. Reprinted with permission by Grosset & Dunlap. All rights reserved.