Damsel Disaster! (8 page)

“Sir Percy was really lucky!” said Patchcoat.

“Lucky?” I said. “He was
so
embarrassed!” It was going to take a
long
time to get the picture of Sir Percy’s bottom out of my head.

“Yeah, but if he hadn’t given the princess such a good laugh she
definitely
would have locked him in the tower,” said Patchcoat. “And us, too, probably. Sir Percy was lucky she let him go as long as he promised to pay for
two
new dresses.”

It was early evening and we were almost home. Peggy had seen us off with a basket
of food that she’d managed to sneak out of the kitchen of Noman Castle. Sir Percy was in front on Prancelot. He seemed a lot happier now he was back in his armour.

“But there’s still Sir Roland,” I said. “He’s bound to tell everyone what a ninny Sir Percy made of himself. He’ll be the laughing stock of the whole kingdom!”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” said Patchcoat. “After all, Sir Percy wasn’t the one chasing around after a knight in a dress. I think Sir Roland might keep rather quiet about the whole business.”

We rode through the castle gate and pulled up at the stables just as Margaret came striding out of the kitchen.

“Welcome ’ome!” she said. “You must all be ’ungry after your journey. I’ve got a lovely cabbage and gizzard tart on the go!”

As I got down off the cart I felt something fall out of my pocket.

“Oh, you dropped something, Master Cedric,” she said. “What is it? Beetroot sauce? Let’s have a taste.”

I turned round to see Margaret pick up a small bottle, pull off the cork and take a swig.

“No, stop!” I called.

But it was too late. Margaret stared at me. Her eyes went all googly.

“Oh, Master Cedric,” she said. “Come ’ere and give us a kiss!”

Uh-oh!