How to Slay a Dragon - Bill Allen [100]
Nathan was studying Greg just as hard. “It was an easy conclusion to make. You’re the type who would never break your promise, even one to a witch. Since you’ve never mentioned going back to Hazel’s, I can only assume you’ve already done so.”
Greg shook his head, convinced Nathan knew more than he was letting on.
“I know you’re having serious doubts right now, Greg, but you must push through them and accept what has happened.”
“If you’re worried I’m going to say something that makes Ryder’s men doubt the prophecy,” said Greg, “I’m not. I understand how important it is to all of them.”
“It’s not just important to them. It’s important to you.”
“What do you mean?”
“If you don’t believe you actually fulfilled this prophecy, it will make it all the harder for you to accept your role in the next.”
Greg’s pulse quickened. He studied Nathan’s face. If the man was joking, he was hiding it well. “Are you saying I have to complete another prophecy before I can go home?”
“No, of course not,” said Nathan.
Greg expelled the breath he didn’t even realize he’d been holding. “Oh, good . . . .”
“The magicians will send for you when they need you again.”
“No!”
Nathan’s blue eyes softened. “Sorry, I wish I could tell you more.”
“Then there is a second prophecy?”
“There are no more prophecies I know of that mention you by name,” Nathan said. “Now, I believe that is Pendegrass Highway ahead. It looks as though we have made it home.”
“Greghart! Greghart! Greghart!”
Hundreds and eventually thousands crowded in behind the army as it marched along the final stretch toward their destination. Soon Pendegrass Castle rose into view, and Greg could see King Peter waiting on the castle lawn with Queen Pauline and Princess Penelope at his side.
Penelope squealed and rushed forward in what some might have considered a run. She met her sister with a heartfelt embrace, and the two girls began giggling and talking back and forth so quickly Greg couldn’t understand a word they said.
Greg had never heard anyone clear a throat in a royal manner before, but Queen Pauline managed it. Priscilla rushed forward and disappeared into the folds of her mother’s robe.
“Don’t you ever run off like that again!” The queen held her daughter a long moment, then turned her loose and stared with tears in her eyes. “I’m so glad you’re back.”
“Me, too, Mom. Me, too.” Priscilla hugged her father while Queen Pauline embraced Greg like a son.
Finally King Peter stepped forward, his eyes glistening with tears. In a resounding voice, so that all could hear, he announced, “You have made me proud today, Greghart, just as I knew you would. Myrth has never known a braver hero. The whole kingdom owes you a tremendous debt.”
With that the entire crowd, with the possible exception of Melvin, erupted into boisterous applause. King Peter leaned in close and spoke to Greg in a softer, more personal tone. “More importantly, I thank you, and my family thanks you.”
“You’re welcome,” said Greg. “I really didn’t do that much.”
King Peter frowned. “I see we better get you home right away.”
He whisked Greg into the castle, leaving the cheering crowd behind. With Lucky and Nathan following closely at his side, he escorted Greg directly to the dim, torch-lit anteroom where the magicians were already gathered. Greg had to wonder if the mysterious men in black robes had ever left the room. Several of them stepped forward to shake his hand and congratulate him on his success, but a few others did not seem as impressed. One in particular looked absolutely furious.
For some reason, Greg still had trouble believing it wasn’t Mordred trying to kill him on the trail. Even so, he had the odd feeling the magician had been with him throughout his journey. If so, Greg was glad he never chose to show himself.
“Mister Mordred . . . sir,” he murmured.
“Don’t speak to me, you mountebank.” Mordred practically spat the words. “I can’t be fooled by your boastful pretensions.”
“Mordred, please,