Beatrix the Bold and the Riddletown Dragon Page 4

  ‘What are all these funny-looking posters on the walls?’ Oi said, looking round. The walls of some of the houses had posters stuck to them, which were soggy and peeling apart.

  ‘Is it an advert for a circus or something like that?’ Wilfred said, having a closer look.

  ‘A circus that has a … dragon?’ Beatrix said, looking at a blurry green shape with wings, a tail and a wicked grin. ‘At least I think it’s a dragon. And is that a small child next to it?’ She paused, thinking for a moment, then said: ‘Wait a minute, so that funny-looking snake on the map was meant to be a dragon?’

  ‘Could be, it was a pretty poor drawing. There’s writing on the poster too,’ Wilfred said, trying to read the blurred words. ‘Be good or be gone! I must say this place does feel a bit creepy. Let’s just find somewhere to stay the night, then be on our way.’

  ‘I hope this town isn’t obsessed with a made-up dragon the way everyone back home was obsessed with Wobblers,’ Beatrix said.

  They got down from the cart and walked up the main street, crossing the bridge over the River Riddle. The water was black and icy.

  ‘Looks like it’s market day,’ Beatrix said, ‘so we should be able to get some supplies.’

  There were stalls selling all sorts of things, from pots and pans to fresh eggs to sprout soup to books about riddles. There were animals too – chickens, sheep and cows in pens, huddled together against the cold – and lots of children helping their parents with chores.

  ‘I say, I’m awfully sorry, but this bag of grain is very heavy. Would you mind terribly moving slightly to one side?’ came a polite voice from behind Beatrix.

  She turned to see a small child carrying an enormous sack on his back.

  ‘Of course not. Can I give you a hand?’ Beatrix said.

  ‘No thanks. Quite all right. Thanks ever so.’ The little boy swept past them, sliding along the icy street. With the big bag of grain on his back and his little legs hurrying along, he looked like a giant beetle.

  ‘All the children seem very well-behaved,’ Beatrix said. ‘They must have come straight out of school and decided to help their parents at the market.’

  ‘I was thinking the same thing,’ said Oi. ‘There’s no mud on their clothes either. It’s very strange. It’s almost like they prefer working to playing. Personally, I prefer to have a little mud on my clothes – makes me feel at home.’

  The square had a town hall with a clock tower on one side, and on the other side was an inn with wagons and horses tied up outside it.

  ‘Oh, look over there, a cake stall! Let’s get something to eat. I’m starving,’ Wilfred said.

  They walked over to the cake stall, where Beatrix’s eye was caught by the local speciality, a riddle cake. It looked exceptionally delicious.

  ‘What’s that one made from?’ Beatrix asked the girl behind the stall.

  The girl was about eight years old and was smartly dressed with neatly combed hair. Her eyes were large and brown and, although she was smiling politely, Beatrix thought she looked a bit sad.

  ‘I could tell you what it’s made from, but I’d have to ask you a riddle. I’m afraid those are the rules of Riddletown, even for visitors.’ She pointed at a sign behind her that said No Riddle – No Service.

  ‘Why?’ Beatrix said.

  ‘Why what?’

  ‘Why do you have to answer a riddle to buy a cake or enter the town?’

  ‘You have to answer a riddle for everything here. It started hundreds of years ago when we were worried about strangers, before we had the walls and the gates. It was like a sort of code – the people of Riddletown knew the answers straight away. The strangers had to try to work it out.’

  ‘But you’ve got walls and gates now,’ Beatrix said.

  ‘I know, but the riddles stayed. We have competitions each year to see who can come up with the best one. People take it very seriously.’

  ‘What does the winner get?’ Oi said.

  ‘A badger hat –’

  ‘A what?’ Oi interrupted. ‘A badger hat? That’s even more strange than asking riddles all the time.’

  ‘A badge, a hat and a special medal,’ the girl continued.

  ‘Oh right. I thought you said … never mind. So what’s our riddle? We’re very hungry!’

  She frowned. ‘I’ll make it an easy one then. What scary creature has never been seen, looks a bit like a goblin but is twice as mean?’

  Beatrix, Oi and Wilfred looked at one another.

  ‘Wobblers!’ they all said together. ‘Now let’s buy some cake,’ Wilfred added.

  ‘Of course,’ the girl replied, taking Wilfred’s money and cutting the cake into slices.

  ‘What’s your name?’ Beatrix asked.

  ‘Matilda,’ the girl replied.

  ‘Nice to meet you. I’m …’ Beatrix paused, ‘Harry.’

  ‘Harry?’ Matilda replied, looking puzzled. ‘Isn’t that a boy’s name?’

  ‘Harry is a boy’s name,’ Beatrix said, realising she hadn’t been talking in her deep voice. Or wearing a fake beard. ‘But Harriet is a girl’s name, and Harry is short for Harriet. Anyway, this is Norman, and this is Bob,’ Beatrix said, pointing at Oi and Wilfred.

  ‘We’re a family of magicians,’ Wilfred said. ‘Just passing through, performing tricks to cheer people up.’

  ‘Well if you need anywhere to stay in Riddletown, my mother and father have an inn. It’s just over there.’ Matilda pointed at a house with a thatched roof on the other side of the square. ‘Normally you have to answer two riddles to get a room but there’s a special offer at the moment. Half price – one riddle per room.’

  ‘Great, more riddles,’ Oi said under his breath.

  Beatrix was wondering what kind of a place this was. Riddles for rooms and dragons on the walls. It all felt very strange. She hoped the snow would stop falling so they could be on their way first thing in the morning.

  10

  Be Good or Be Gone!

  Beatrix, Oi and Wilfred walked across the market square with Matilda to the inn. It was a large building with a thatched roof and white-washed walls that bulged outwards, like a soggy loaf of bread. Matilda led them to a big room at the top of a rickety staircase.

  ‘You can come down for dinner as soon as you’re ready,’ Matilda said. ‘It’s sprout soup.’

  ‘Um, what else have you got?’ asked Oi.

  ‘Sprout pie.’

  ‘I’m not sharing a room with Wilfred after he’s eaten sprout soup and sprout pie.’ Oi looked truly horrified.

  ‘Maybe we’ll just have some bread and cheese and a bit more cake instead,’ Beatrix said. ‘By the way, what are all these posters for? We saw a few of them in town.’ Beatrix was pointing at a poster on the wall. This time, you could actually see the picture clearly, and it was even more creepy than the faded posters they’d seen earlier. It showed a strange green dragon holding a naughty-looking child’s hand. The child’s clothes were all muddy and he had a catapult in his pocket, some cake stuck to his face and a bag of sweets in his other hand. Nearby was a broken window. You couldn’t help feeling a bit sorry for him, even though he did look very cheeky. The poster had the same words printed on it:

  Be good or be gone!

  Matilda glanced nervously over her shoulder at the open door. She crossed the room and closed it.

  ‘No one talks about the posters,’ she whispered. ‘But we all try to be good, very good, because otherwise …’ She stopped. There was a knock at the door and a kind-looking lady appeared. She had red cheeks as if she’d been working in a hot kitchen and an apron tied round her very large waist.

  ‘Hello, Mum,’ said Matilda.

  ‘You’re needed downstairs, my dear,’ she said to Matilda. ‘Some farmers have just arrived in town and want to have dinner. Funny-looking farmers they are too – they stand very straight and look very stiff.’

  Beatrix looked at Wilfred in alarm. The soldiers were in their hotel?

  Matilda�
�s mum turned to Wilfred. ‘How are you settling in? Like the room?’

  ‘It’s very nice thanks,’ Wilfred said in a nervous voice.

  ‘Excellent. Well, make yourselves at home and I’ll bring you some supper.’

  As soon as she’d gone, Wilfred turned to Beatrix and Oi:

  ‘They’re here!’ he said. ‘The soldiers are downstairs! I think we should leave.’

  Beatrix frowned. ‘We can’t,’ she said. ‘It’ll look suspicious if we rush out now. Who leaves an inn just before bedtime? And besides, we can’t get very far in this weather. We’re stuck in this town. We’ll stay out of their way. If they’re the same ones we saw before, then hopefully they already believe we’re a family of travelling magicians. Anyway,’ Beatrix looked at the poster on the wall, ‘I want to know what’s going on. There’s something not right about this place. Did you see how sad Matilda looked when we asked her about the poster? There’s something she’s not telling us …’

  11

  Beatrix Goes for a Swim

  Beatrix couldn’t sleep. The straw bed was itchy and uncomfortable. Wilfred was snoring like an elephant with an orange stuck up its trunk and Oi kept talking in his sleep about different kinds of mud. Jeff the pigeon was flapping about in his cage and Dog was making the kind of whiffy pongs only dogs (and occasionally dads) can make.

  Beatrix twisted and turned. She wanted to leave Riddletown as soon as possible but she also wanted to find out what was going on. Time for some answers, she said to herself, getting up. She was going to find Matilda.

  Beatrix crept downstairs, to see that the two farmers – also known as Martin the Murderous and Colin – were still eating and drinking by the fire. She kept as close to the wall as possible so the floorboards wouldn’t creak, holding her breath with each step.

  Matilda was in the kitchen, washing up wooden plates and pots and pans in a big barrel full of soapy water. She looked as if she might fall asleep and go headfirst into the barrel at any second.

  ‘I can’t believe you’re still up!’ Beatrix said.

  Matilda jumped in surprise, then smiled when she saw who it was. ‘There’s not much left to do – I should be able to get an hour or two’s sleep before morning.’ Beside her was a huge pile of dirty dishes. It looked like it would take forever to finish.

  ‘Do you have to do this every night?’ Beatrix asked.

  ‘Yes, but it’s not usually this busy,’ Matilda replied. ‘And I used to have my brother Jack to help me.’

  ‘Why doesn’t he help any more?’ Beatrix said.

  ‘He’s gone – he wasn’t good.’ Matilda looked around before lowering her voice. ‘Just like they say in the posters,’ she whispered, ‘Be good or be gone! I think he was taken.’

  ‘Taken by what? You’re not suggesting it was a dragon, are you?’ asked Beatrix.

  Matilda shrugged. ‘I don’t know. He’s not the only naughty child who’s disappeared. Lots of others have too.’

  Beatrix frowned. ‘Well that explains why all the children we saw today were so well-behaved. Why don’t their parents look for them?’ she said.

  ‘They’ve tried. My mother and father asked in all the nearby villages and explored every inch of Wobbler Woods, but no one’s ever actually seen a child disappear. My mother says she’s seen something that looked like a dragon, but she only saw its shadow. It was sneaking about in the backstreets and then it simply disappeared. That’s why there are signs all over town, to warn us. One day your brother or sister or friend is here, the next day they aren’t.’

  BOOM BOOM BOOM!

  Someone was banging on the kitchen door, someone with a very heavy fist. A fist that was more used to bashing people on the head than knocking on doors.

  ‘I’ll see who it is,’ Matilda said. ‘The farmers might want some more food or drink.’ Before Beatrix could stop her Matilda ran across the kitchen to open the door. Beatrix looked round for a hiding place. There was nowhere to hide – nowhere except the large barrel full of greasy water with bits of sprout floating in it. Beatrix held her nose and swung over the top of the barrel into the water.

  Matilda opened the door.

  ‘Just you in here, is it?’ said a gruff voice.

  Matilda looked round, and saw the bubbles in the washing-up barrel.

  ‘Oh yes. Of course. It’s just me,’ she replied, looking up at the very tall man standing in the doorway. He was all twitchy and cross-looking, as if he’d put too much chilli sauce on his chips. His beard bristled out from his cross face like the spines on a hedgehog’s back. He was about as big as a medium-sized grisly bear standing on its hind legs. Martin the Murderous.

  He looked round the kitchen with his twitchy eyes and rubbed his twitchy beard with the back of his enormous hammer-hand.

  ‘Just me in here. That’s all,’ Matilda repeated nervously. ‘Absolutely no one else.’ The man stopped looking round the room and stared at her.

  ‘Funny, I thought I could hear voices. Have a look at this,’ he said, unrolling a piece of paper. ‘Do you know this girl?’ the man said.

  ‘Er, nope. I can honestly say I’ve never seen anyone who looks quite like that,’ Matilda replied.

  ‘Well, I need to search every room in your inn. I have to find her.’

  ‘That would be pointless,’ Matilda said. ‘You and your friend are the only guests at the inn.’

  ‘Huh,’ Martin said, peering over the top of her head.

  ‘Time for you to go,’ Matilda said. ‘And if you bang on any more doors I’ll have you thrown out. You’ll be sleeping in the snow. Goodnight.’

  Martin the Murderous cast one more look around the room, made a Hmmmmmm-type noise and walked away. Matilda closed the door, and as she did so a very bedraggled Beatrix pulled herself out of the barrel, gasping for breath.

  ‘I thought he’d never go!’ she said. ‘Thanks ever so much for getting rid of him. That was very brave.’

  ‘Not at all. Here, take this.’ Matilda threw a cloth at her. ‘Are you the girl in the picture? It was a pretty funny-looking drawing, but there was something familiar about it. Why is that farmer trying to find you?’

  ‘He’s not a farmer – he’s a spy from the Evil Army. They want to kidnap me. They think I’m going to destroy them all and take over their land because of a curse. Ridiculous, isn’t it?’

  ‘Hang on. You mean you’re Beatrix the Bold?’ said Matilda. ‘The queen with magic powers who’ll one day lead an army of Wobblers to defeat the Evil Army in a mighty battle? That’s one of my favourite stories, but I thought it was just made up! I didn’t realise there was an actual Queen Beatrix. I certainly didn’t ever think she’d end up in my washing-up barrel in the middle of the night.’

  Beatrix shrugged. ‘Neither did I. And to be honest, I don’t really believe in all that stuff. What I want to do is see my parents in the Kingdom of Beluga – that’s where I’m going. I haven’t seen them since I was tiny …’ Beatrix stopped. She suddenly felt very sad. Sad and tired. And … angry. She thought of Matilda’s poor little brother, Jack. The idea that children could be taken away and never see their parents again – well, she couldn’t go on with her journey to see her own parents without getting to the bottom of this. It wouldn’t be right.

  ‘I’m going to help you find your brother, and the others. This can’t be allowed to happen,’ she said, rubbing her hair with the cloth. She had a feeling the smell of sprouts would stay with her for ever.

  ‘Using your magic powers?’ Matilda asked. ‘That would be brilliant!’

  ‘It’s more likely we’ll end up using funny disguises than magic powers,’ Beatrix said. ‘What do all the children who disappeared have in common?’

  ‘They’re all naughty.’

  ‘And when were they taken?’

  ‘When no one else was around.’

  ‘So if we get you to be naughty all day, I mean really naughty – worse than your brother ever was – and then make it look like you’re alone, maybe this dra
gon thing will appear and try and take you. We’ll follow it and get you back, along with all the other children. What do you think?’ Beatrix grinned.

  Matilda frowned, then a little spark of light appeared in her eyes.

  ‘I think I can manage that,’ she said.

  12

  How to Catch a Dragon

  Beatrix and Matilda hurried upstairs.

  ‘Oi, Wilfred, wake up!’ Beatrix said. ‘We need your help.’

  Oi sat up in bed.

  ‘Are we there yet?’ he said in a sleepy voice.

  ‘We need a plan. Someone or something is taking the naughty children of Riddletown and they’re never seen again. No one can find them.’

  ‘Wait, what … you mean like in the posters?’ Oi rubbed his eyes. ‘So we’re not going to Beluga any more?’

  ‘Of course we are. But before we do, we have to find out what’s going on here. I can’t carry on my journey to see my parents when all these children have disappeared.’

  ‘But if we stay here and try and sort this out, we won’t be able to cross the mountains before the spring thaw and the avalanches start,’ Wilfred said. He got out of bed, wrapped himself in a blanket and put a couple of logs onto the fire to warm up the room.

  ‘That’s just a risk we’ll have to take,’ Beatrix replied.

  ‘And, of course, the Evil Army spies are staying in this inn,’ he added.

  ‘I know, I know. But this is important. It was Matilda’s mother who made those posters, to warn people. Matilda’s brother Jack has gone. They think there’s a dragon that takes the children.’

  ‘Why does it only take the naughty ones?’ Oi said.

  ‘I don’t know – maybe it thinks their parents won’t care,’ Beatrix said.