WORDSWORTH AND THE DRAGON
by Scotti Cohn
Copyright Scotti Cohn
 |
| copyright Christina Wald |
It's WORDSWORTH WEDNESDAY!
Chapter 9
Lost is Found
The muddletongue
handed his torch to another muddletongue. He tried to open the little bag, but
his fingers were too thick. As he struggled, a strong, cold wind gusted across
the clearing. The muddletongues stopped growling and grunting. They looked up,
down, and around, their red eyes glowing, their wild hair blowing in all
directions. Thunder boomed. Lightning flashed.
Eyes on the sky,
the muddletongues paced back and forth, bumping against each other, growling
and shoving. Klause got back on his feet. Wordsworth fought against his captor
harder than ever, kicking and squirming. Suddenly the muddletongue released
him, and he fell on the ground. Just then, something much heavier than
Wordsworth landed in the clearing. Thud!
Looking up
Wordsworth saw the muddletongues running for the hills. Some leaped into the
air and flew away. Then he saw what they were so frightened of. The falling object
had green scales. It had wings. It had big spikes coming out of its head and
long, pointed teeth. Wordsworth shouted for joy. At least he meant to shout. It
sounded more like a squeak. The terror he had felt staring into the red eyes of
the muddletongue had not yet faded away.
Dashburn Drak the
Fifth tilted his head back and let out a roar louder than all the muddletongues
put together. The few muddletongues that were still in the clearing shrieked
and lumbered into the woods. With one quick movement, Dash yanked the bars off
one side of Phrasia's cage. Wordsworth and Klause hurried over to her.
"Phrasia, are
you all right?" Wordsworth asked. "What are you doing here?"
Phrasia
threw her arms around him. "I was trying to find you!" she exclaimed.
"I got worried after you went into the forest. I never should have let you
go!"
She kissed Klause
on his forehead and scratched him behind the ear.
"Why were you
worried?" asked Wordsworth. "Did you think the dragon would hurt
me?"
"No,"
she said. "In fact, the dragon was the reason I wanted you to go. You
needed to meet Dash to see that he is not something you have to fight or
kill."
"You already
knew him?"
"Yes, I've
known him for a few years now."
Wordsworth watched
as Dash smashed what was left of the cage with his feet. His green scales
glittered in the firelight. I'm going to ask the king about the days when
people and dragons were friends, Wordsworth thought. Or maybe Lord
Reading will have a book about it in the royal library.
"Thank you
for saving us, Dash," Wordsworth said.
"Yes,"
said Phrasia. "I know you did not want the muddletongues to know about
you."
"True,"
Dash said. "I surprised them this time, so they ran. But they will soon
get over their fear and try to hunt me down. I will have to be on my
guard."
"How did you
know we were in trouble?" Wordsworth asked.
Dash lifted his
paw to his chest, touching the small bag of Dragon's Troth stones. "The
stones made a low humming sound and began to tremble," he said. "I
knew someone who wears the Dragon's Troth was in danger. I always know."
Phrasia held up
her hand so Wordsworth could see the dark orange banded stone in her ring.
"I have a Dragon's
Troth, too," said Wordsworth. "Oh, no! My Dragon's Troth!" He
dropped to his hands and knees and started searching in the dirt for the little
bag. He could only hope that the muddletongue had not taken it with him.
"Wordsworth,
you don't have to do that," Phrasia said.
"Yes, I do! I
have to find it!"
"You do not
have to find the Dragon's Troth," said Dash in his scratchy voice.
"The stone will find you."
"What?"
said Wordsworth.
Phrasia reached
down and helped him to his feet. "You just have to say these words,"
she said. "I summon thee from far or near. Dragon's Troth, thy way is
lear." A puzzled look crossed her face. "Thy way is... oh, dear. It
looks like you won't be able to summon the stone until the missing letter is
returned to Atoz."
Before Wordsworth
could reply, he heard the sound of a trumpet coming from the woods. A horse
neighed and someone shouted, "This way!"
"It's the
knights!" he exclaimed.
He turned to warn
Dash, but the cold, strong wind had already begun to blow. The dragon rose into
the air and quickly vanished into the dark sky.
"Here they
are!" shouted a voice.
Five knights in
chain mail rode into the clearing on spirited warhorses. As always, Wordsworth
wished with all his heart that he were one of them. While four of the knights
went to check the surrounding area and look into all the huts, their leader
approached and dismounted. Wordsworth recognized Sir Clooney.
"I am glad to
see you are safe," the knight said.
"Thank you,
Sir Looney. I mean..."
Sir Clooney dismissed Wordsworth's concern with a wave of his hand. "We were only able
to find you due to the strange behavior of a bird," he said.
"A
bird?" Wordsworth said.
"Yes, a
falon." Sir Clooney sighed. "You know, a small hawk."
Wordsworth smiled.
"I understand."
"The bird kept diving at us and
flapping its wings, like it wanted us to follow it. And sure enough, it led us
here."
"No one else
around, sir!" shouted a knight. "But we found the letter!"
Back through the
forest they traveled. Sir Clooney led the march, carrying a torch to help them
find their way through the darkest parts of the woods. Wordsworth and Phrasia
each rode horseback behind a knight. Next came Klause pulling a cart which
contained the letter C, wrapped in the blanket Phrasia had provided. Two
knights brought up the rear.
