Beatrix the Bold and the Riddletown Dragon Page 5

  ‘Or maybe it wants to steal all that naughty energy and use it for something,’ Wilfred said.

  ‘We can get Matilda to be naughty, that’s pretty easy,’ Beatrix said. ‘But what’s really going to get that dragon’s attention? Matilda, are there any stories about the so-called Riddletown Dragon? There must be some – people make up all sorts of stories about the things they’re scared of. Like Wobblers – three eyes, fat bellies, all that stuff. What do they say about the Riddletown Dragon?’

  Matilda frowned and thought for a moment. ‘Some people say it lives in the woods and only eats raspberries and hummus.’

  ‘Raspberries and hummus?’ Oi said. ‘Surely not together? What kind of an animal is it?!’

  ‘Other people say that conkers are actually dragon poo.’

  ‘Gross!’ said Beatrix.

  ‘And my teacher says the dragon hides in the tunnels under the mountains and only comes out on Wednesdays in a month that has two Os in it.’

  Beatrix, Oi and Wilfred looked at each other, running through the months of the year in their heads.

  ‘Isn’t that just October?’ Beatrix said eventually.

  ‘And Joon,’ Matilda replied. ‘And Jooly. That’s what my teacher says anyway.’

  ‘I think your teacher might need a new dictionary,’ Beatrix said.

  ‘Maybe if we mix up a bowl of raspberry hummus we can get it out this month,’ Oi said.

  ‘I doubt it,’ Beatrix said. ‘All this really tells us is that you can’t pay too much attention to what people say. The reason the Evil Army wants to kill me is because people say I’m going to take over their land with an army of Wobblers. And I don’t have an army of Wobblers. Wobblers don’t exist. I don’t think dragons exist either. Hang on …’ Beatrix smiled. She had an idea. If lightbulbs had been invented there would have been one shining above her head. They hadn’t, so it was a candle instead.

  ‘Why don’t we make up our own dragon? Just like we did with Wobblers. What’s going to get the attention of the Riddletown Dragon more than anything else? Another dragon! Especially if this one is controlled by a naughty child.’

  Matilda, Oi, Wilfred and Dog were silent, thinking it over.

  ‘And some raspberry hummus?’ Oi said at last.

  The four of them (and Dog) crept downstairs. The spies had gone to bed. Oi and Wilfred carried oil lamps, but they didn’t cast much light. They just made everything a little yellow and sickly-looking, like an old banana.

  They hunted about amongst the old junk in the cellar, looking for anything a bit dragon shaped.

  ‘What about this?’ Beatrix said, picking up a broom. ‘If you hold it upside down and drape a sheet over it it’ll look like the neck and head of a dragon. Matilda could wave it about so it seems as if it’s alive.’

  ‘This will make a good tail,’ Wilfred said, picking up a half-stuffed pillow.

  ‘For the wings we could use these,’ Matilda said, holding up a pair of dusty curtains.

  ‘Have you got any conkers?’ Oi said. ‘We could always use those for the –’

  ‘Right, Matilda,’ Beatrix interrupted. ‘You hold the broom. I’ll put this sheet over the top. We’ll tie an old scarf round its neck to give it a bit of shape and stitch on the wings and the tail. Do you have any green paint?’ she asked. ‘Otherwise you’ll look more like a very tall ghost than a dragon.’

  ‘Don’t think so,’ Matilda replied from under the white sheet, ‘but there should be some paint in a pot by the door. Can you cut a hole so I can see?’

  Beatrix carefully sliced through the material with her knife, making two eyeholes.

  ‘Looks like you’re going to be a red dragon!’ Oi said, picking up the pot of paint and splashing red spots over the white sheet. ‘Can we make it breathe fire?’

  Beatrix held up a pair of bellows that were lying beside the fireplace. (Bellows were what they used in the olden days to blow more air into a fire, a bit like a pump for a lilo.)

  ‘We might not have fire, but if we fill the bellows with paint, then Matilda can squirt it out of the dragon’s mouth.’

  ‘A paint-breathing dragon?’ Matilda said.

  ‘Exactly – the Paint-breathing Dragon of Riddletown. Look out everyone, you’re about to get splatted!’

  13

  Everyone Gets Splatted

  It was early morning, and Martin and Colin were sitting in the dining room of the inn, waiting for breakfast to appear. They called for Matilda every couple of minutes, but she didn’t come. In the end, Martin went into the kitchen to try to find her. There was no one there, so he simply bellowed, ‘BREAKFAAAAAAST!’ as loudly as he could.

  A few moments later, Matilda’s mother came down the stairs.

  ‘Matilda should be here,’ her mother said. ‘I don’t know where she’s gone.’

  ‘Can’t you rustle something up for us?’ Martin said. ‘We don’t need much – just bacon and eggs, bread and jam, a couple of fartinpants, maybe some porridge too.’ He patted his stomach. ‘And a jug of warm milk. All that farming is hungry work, looking after the parrots and things.’

  ‘After the what?’

  ‘Chickens,’ Colin said. ‘Not parrots.’

  ‘I’ll get right on it. Let me just check if the other guests want breakfast too.’

  ‘The other guests?’ Martin said. ‘I didn’t think anyone else was staying here.’

  ‘Oh yes, there’s a family of travelling magicians. I’ll be back in a mo.’ Matilda’s mother disappeared upstairs.

  ‘Family of travelling magicians!’ Martin said excitedly. ‘They’re here!’ He raced upstairs, with Colin following close behind him.

  They waited in the corridor as Matilda’s mother knocked on the door to Beatrix’s room. No one answered. She knocked again, then she opened the door with one of her keys, peered inside, frowned, closed the door and locked it again.

  ‘No one there?’ Martin said.

  ‘They’ve gone out. Must be early risers.’

  ‘Must be. Wonder what’s so important they need to get up this early? It’s not as if they can go anywhere with all this snow …’

  He stopped. There were voices outside, excited shouts from children and adults, dogs barking, chickens clucking. Even the cows seemed to be mooing a more excited moo than usual.

  ‘What’s all that commotion?’ Matilda’s mother said.

  ‘We have it, it’s here!’ a voice called out. ‘The Riddletown Dragon! Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, it’s been captured at last. No more should you be afraid. Come and see its mighty, er, red spots. And its terrifying tail, which doesn’t look at all like a half-stuffed pillow.’

  Martin and Colin ran down the stairs and out the front door. They saw a very curious sight. It was the magician and boy from the squashed-meatball inn, leading what looked like a cross between a dragon and a pair of curtains across the market square. A rope was tied loosely around its neck and the dragon’s head dipped up and down as if it was struggling to break free.

  ‘It’s them!’ Martin said. ‘The magician and his assistant. Well, one of his assistants. The girl’s not there. What are they up to? Is this another trick? Are they going to make the curtain-dragon-thing disappear and reappear before our very eyes?’

  ‘I’d be very surprised if they can make that fit into a bottle,’ Colin said. Colin and Martin joined the crowd that had gathered in the town square, trying to look as farmer-like as possible, pushing their way to the front.

  ‘Stand back, be careful. We used powerful magic to bring it under control,’ Wilfred said.

  ‘A magic raspberry,’ Oi said. ‘And a magic bowl of hummus.’

  ‘Are you sure it’s the Riddletown Dragon?’ said one of the stall holders. ‘It looks a little bit like a ghost that’s swallowed a broom.’

  ‘Then caught chicken pox,’ another said.

  ‘And it’s February – it’s not even Joon, or Jooly. Why’s the dragon out already?’

  ‘Of course we’re
sure it’s the dragon,’ Wilfred replied. ‘And don’t talk too loudly – you’ll upset it. And when it gets upset, it breathes –’

  ‘Fire?’ said a voice in the crowd. The front row moved back.

  ‘Not this one – no, this dragon’s a different species,’ Wilfred said. ‘Scaly dragons breathe fire, red-spotted curtain dragons breathe …’ He paused.

  People were crowding round, trying to get a look at the dragon. Matilda was struggling underneath the sheet to hold onto the broom, it kept slipping out of her hands. It looked as if the dragon was shaking its head up and down. She gripped the broom handle under her arm and grabbed hold of the bellows, which were heavy and full of sticky red paint. She aimed them out of the mouth. It was hard to see what she was doing. It was hard to hear what was going on too, it just sounded like a lot of noise. She pushed the bellows together.

  They made a wheezy, parping sound (very similar to a grandmother after Christmas dinner) and sprayed the thick red paint in a wide semi-circle.

  A chorus of angry voices rose from the crowd.

  Matilda wasn’t sure if she’d got it all out, so she squeezed the bellows together again. She heard the splatter of paint once more. People were pulling at her costume now. She could hardly see anything through the eyeholes, but she waved the head about and ran forward, swinging the broom.

  ‘Ouch!’

  ‘Oof!’

  ‘Watch it!’

  She could see blurred shapes through the eyeholes. The dragon’s head was banging into people. Matilda ran forward, straight into a stall selling eggs. They crashed to the ground, cracking and splattering all over the place. More voices cried out. She turned again, knocking over another stall with her tail. This one was selling sprout soup.

  The greeny, mushy liquid poured out of a huge saucepan over the snowy ground, making the first ever sprout slushy. (Also the last ever sprout slushy.)

  In the middle of the crowd a tall, thin man in a black cloak was watching all this with interest. It had been a while since he’d seen such naughtiness in Riddletown. And a very long time since he’d seen a red-spotted curtain dragon. In fact, he wasn’t even sure he’d ever heard of such a thing. A naughty child, no doubt, he thought. He took out a notebook and wrote down what he saw, then he climbed onto his horse and galloped out of the town.

  14

  Peas and Marshmallows

  General Burpintime was sitting at the head of the table in the huge dining room in his castle. A delicious lunch had been laid out and he was wondering what to eat first. There was a whole chicken, a whole pig, a whole salmon, a loaf of bread in the shape of a hedgehog (his favourite kind of bread) and a big bowl of peas. Peas were the only vegetable he would eat, and he’d only eat them if he could have one marshmallow after each pea. It took him a long time to eat a bowl of peas, but the more he ate, the more marshmallows he could have, so he usually ate them first.

  He was tucking into his ninth pea and was starting to feel a little full, when there was a knock at the door.

  ‘Come in!’ he shouted. But the room was so big that the messenger didn’t hear.

  ‘COME IN!’ he shouted, even more loudly. The door still didn’t open, so he put the pea down, slid out of his high chair and opened the door himself.

  ‘Yes?’ he said.

  Outside stood the tall, thin man in the black cloak. ‘News from Riddletown. Just in. Another naughty one,’ he said, breathing heavily.

  ‘Ooh lovely,’ General Burpintime replied. ‘It’s been a while.’

  ‘Well, this one is quite something. I’ve never seen anything like it.’ The messenger handed Burpintime a note, bowed his head and left the room.

  Burpintime opened the note. He was about to read it when Esmerelda barged into the dining room. He hid the note behind his back.

  ‘Lunch time is it? Why didn’t you tell me? I’m starving. What are you having?’ she said.

  ‘Peas, mainly. I like to look after myself. They’re very healthy. And filling. Help yourself.’

  Esmerelda looked at the peas but didn’t take any. Instead, she took a big slice of hedgehog bread, some chicken and half a side of salmon. She sat down next to Burpintime.

  ‘What’s that you’re hiding in your hand?’ she said, as she tucked into her lunch.

  ‘Nothing. Nothing to do with you anyway.’

  ‘Is it news about Beatrix? If so you should tell me. I need to know.’ Esmerelda didn’t trust General Burpintime. She thought that if he found out where Beatrix was, he’d simply capture her and not hand over the gold. That’s the problem when baddies work together. There’s no trust.

  ‘No, it’s not about Beatrix. It’s just a report. A secret report. I’m a very important man around here and I like to know what’s going on, especially in Riddletown. Now, if you’ll excuse me, something urgent has come up. I need to get ready to go out.’

  ‘Out where?’ Esmerelda said. ‘Surely you need to wait here for news of Beatrix?’

  General Burpintime stared at her. No one told him what to do – except his boss, the Evil Overlord. Who did she think she was, asking him where he was going? As if it was any of her business!

  ‘Out wherever I want. I have important things I need to do.’ He glanced at the note he’d been given, holding it under the table so Esmerelda couldn’t see, then set fire to it with one of the candles on the table. He blew it out quickly, stamping on it for good measure.

  ‘Goodbye, Esmerelda. I shall return later tonight. Help yourself to the peas. Don’t eat my marshmallows. I’ve counted them and I’ll know.’

  As soon as he was gone Esmerelda picked up the piece of paper from the floor. It was mostly burnt but she could still see some writing on it.

  Child dressed as dragon – extreme misbehaviour.

  Very strange, Esmerelda thought, helping herself to a marshmallow from the enormous bowl next to the tiny bowl of peas. What on earth was Burpintime up to?

  15

  Wilfred and Oi’s Big Mistake

  Wilfred and Oi had snuck away from the market and joined Beatrix in one of the small streets off the square while Matilda charged around causing mayhem.

  ‘She’s certainly got the hang of being naughty. If this doesn’t make the Riddletown Dragon come out of hiding then I don’t know what will,’ Wilfred said, as Matilda swung the dragon’s head down towards the ground, knocking a chicken high into the air. The poor bird landed in a ball of feathers in the sprout slushy, flapping its wings and shaking itself down, before bending over to taste the slushy. It shook its head and coughed in a chickeny sort of way and walked off.

  ‘I haven’t seen any sign of it yet. Matilda might need to wear the dragon outfit all day if it doesn’t come soon,’ Beatrix said.

  ‘Even when she goes to school?’ Oi asked.

  ‘Especially at school,’ said Beatrix. ‘The teachers would hate it! I’ll stay close to her in case the dragon turns up. Why don’t you two go back to the inn, get some supplies then meet me by the school? If you could get a couple of fartinpants with bacon in the middle, like a sandwich, that would be great. And some cookies. Riddle cake if they have any left. Be careful though, I saw the two spies from the inn in the crowd watching the dragon.’

  Oi and Wilfred slipped away, checking to see if the spies were in the market square.

  ‘Can you see them?’ Wilfred said.

  ‘No,’ Oi said, looking round. ‘I can see a lot of mess – red paint splatted all over the place, a couple of very unhappy chickens and a sprout slushy – but I can’t see any spies. Let’s go.’

  This was a mistake. Everyone makes mistakes, but some mistakes matter more than others. This one would matter quite a lot. You see, Martin the Murderous didn’t get to be chief spy in General Burpintime’s army by being a complete idiot. He knew a little bit about spying. He knew that the travelling magicians had left their cart outside the inn. And he’d seen that they had left their things in the bedroom when Matilda’s mother opened the door. Adding these two facts
together, he decided it was extremely likely that they would soon return to the inn.

  So instead of waiting out in the cold, trying to chase them across the market square and down little alleyways, he was waiting at the inn with Colin.

  ‘Come on, Colin, looks like our magical friends are on their way back,’ Martin said, peering out of the window. ‘Let’s wait for them in their room. Give them a nice surprise.’ He held up a key to show Colin.

  ‘How did you get that?’ Colin said.

  ‘Easy. I took it off the innkeeper when she wasn’t looking.’

  Wilfred and Oi didn’t realise what was about to happen, because Wilfred and Oi didn’t know they’d made a mistake. But they would do soon. Wilfred took out his key and opened the door to their room at the inn.

  ‘Well hello there,’ Martin said in a very deep voice. Oi was surprised that the word hello could sound like a threat, but somehow it did. Martin reached out and took the key from Wilfred’s hand.

  ‘Why don’t you two have a seat? My friend and I have got some questions for you.’

  16

  The Truth About Dragons

  ‘Any sign of the Riddletown Dragon?’ Matilda said. She was standing with Beatrix, out of breath after running around causing mayhem and trying to escape the angry stall holders. The residents of Riddletown were tidying up the mess. The sprout soup stall was now selling sprout slushies and the egg stall was now selling scrambled eggs.

  ‘I haven’t seen the dragon yet, so I think you’re going to have to stay in costume. How do you fancy going to school dressed as a red-spotted, paint-breathing curtain dragon?’

  ‘I like it!’ Matilda said, pushing the broom up and down so that the dragon nodded. ‘It’s actually quite good fun charging about the place and banging into things.’

  Beatrix and Matilda made their way to Riddletown School, sneaking down narrow streets between the houses so that they stayed out of sight.