The Enemy of My Enemy
Chapter Two: Talk of War
The young chief stared out at the vast expanse of sea before him with something dark and evil in his eyes; a fiendish grin twisted on his thin lips. The trap was set and baited now and all was going well according to plan. The scent of burning ships still lingered on his cloths. He breathed deeply thru his nose, nostrils flaring, taking in the intoxicating aroma of fire and fresh death mingled with the sweet ocean breeze.
This was what he was born for.
"Um, excuse me, Chief Dagur?" came a cautious voice from behind him. Chief Dagur the Deranged huffed out a frustrated breath and spun around to see one of the crewmen of his flagship the Voldelig Bolge.
"What do you want, Brynjar? Can you not see that I'm basking in glory here?"
"I'm sorry chief. But why in Thor's name are we turning back? Had we continued on to Ironfort, we could have annihilated the entire –"
"For the last time," Dagur interrupted, "I DON'T CARE about the stupid Adiarf'Rs! Do I have to explain this to you like you're a child? Fine. Now that my mighty armada has attacked Ironfort, Stoick will spare Berk's resources to go to the aid of his oldest and strongest allies. He'll even be there personally in a few days for the treaty signing and that, my good but strategically challenged man, is when I will STRIKE!" He punctuated his last word with a slam of his fist down on the ships rail. "As soon as Berk is left distracted and leaderless, I will sail my armada right up to their docks and wipe. Them. Out!"
"But what about the Dragon Conqueror?"
Dagur scoffed. "Hiccup? Ha! That runt is of no threat to me. Especially once I mount his Night Fury's head on a stick." He clenched his fists and shook them threateningly into the air.
Ever sense he had met Hiccup that night on Dragon Island, he could think and dream of little else but vengeance. It was bad enough that Stoick the Vast had lied to him and betrayed the Berserkers by hiding those dragons and even having them at all. But he had trusted Hiccup. He knew even at the time that he should not have, but never the less he had truly felt a deep brotherly love for the boy. Then even Hiccup betrayed him, lied to him, humiliated him, and led him into a trap. The Night Fury, the ultimate prize, would be his compensation. He would settle for nothing less.
Brynjar stepped back. "But…" he hesitated, "But Dagur, you know that the Dragon Conqueror and the Night Fury brought down the Red Death. They've even bested Alvin the Treacherous on numerous –"
"ENOUGH!" Dagur shouted at the top of his voice, causing every crewmember to look his way in surprised curiosity. "And stop calling him the 'Dragon Conqueror.' That scrawny sorry excuse for a Viking may know dragons, but he doesn't know the first thing about REAL war. I'll slay the unholy offspring of lightning and death itself and make Hiccup watch me while he wails and begs." Dagur raised the pitch of his voice to mock Hiccup. " 'Stop it, Dagur! Don't do it, Dagur! Please don't hurt my precious dragon Dagur! Oh no, no, AAAAAAAH!' "
For a moment, Dagur went morbidly silent before suddenly erupting in a fit of maniacal laughter that lasted for almost a full minute. "I'll laugh at them both and cut of the Night Fury's head before I run the chief's son thru with the same sword, blood still wet on the blade," he threatened thru his continuous laughter.
Once his fit subsided, he caught his breath and smiled devilishly, leaning in just inches from Brynjar's face. When "When Stoick returns from his little trip, there will be nothing left of Berk. Or his son."
WIANWIANWIANWIAN
"What!?" Stoick's voice boomed and echoed violently thru the Great Hall that was currently occupied only be the chief, Gobber, and Hiccup, who had just described the violent sight that he had witnessed: Berserker warships randomly opening fire on a fleet of unarmed Adiarf'R fishing boats and then simply sailing away.
"Dad, I really think you should think twice before going there. It's not safe to-"
"By the power of Thor, it's not safe! Our allies are not safe. WE are not safe now. But let me be cursed by Odin if I miss that treaty signing!"
Hiccup sighed in frustration. "Dad, isn't it really just a formality now? It's not like it means war to miss one signing. We'll still be allies against-"
"It's not just a formality, Hiccup," the angry chief interrupted. "As allies, we must work together with Ironfort to defeat the Berserkers. Ironfort is strong but small, and Chief Ingialdr, though competent, is young and inexperienced in warfare. Without Berk as their right hand, the Adiarf'Rs don't stand a chance."
"And that means not only traveling there to sign the treaty," Gobber added from his seat at the table behind them, "But also to form a strategy."
Hiccup pursed his lips and let out an agitated breath from his nose. He hated it, but his father was right. There was no way they could stand by and let the entire island of Ironfort be destroyed just as the fishing fleet had been. Together Berk and Ironfort could defend themselves just as they had done a half-century ago. Hiccup had only two concerns. His father's own safety and…
"What happens if the Berserkers attack Berk while you're away."
"Spitelout is more than capable of leading an army in my absence. We also have one major advantage that we did not have before. The young men and women of the academy will be in charge or our dragon forces. This is where you will come in." Stoick approached his son and laid one of his massive hands on Hiccup's bony shoulder. "Hiccup, you must brief your friends at once on what has happened. Make sure that every dragon in this town is ready to fight. Then later I want you to go to Dragon Island. Round up twelve dragons, train them, and bring them back to Berk."
"Why twelve new dragons?" Hiccup asked.
"If Ironfort is to stand a chance against the Berserkers, they will need those dragons. Twelve will be enough to give Ingialdr and every member of his council a dragon to fight with. It won't be much, but it will be a start."
Hiccup nodded slowly. Training dragons for another tribe, even an allied tribe, made him nervous. He had first begun training them for peace, now he would be training them for war and, quite possibly, sending many to their deaths.
"But Dad, the dragons won't do the Adiarf'Rs any good if they don't know how to interact with them or how to train them."
"I know," Stoick stated matter-of-factly. "That's why you and Toothless are coming with me."
"I think that's my cue to leave," said Gobber, who the two had almost forgotten about. "You two can have your father-son…thing."
Stoick nodded. "Thank you, Gobber. Assemble the war council and have them come here. Then have the teens gather at the academy and wait for Hiccup. Don't tell anyone what is happening. It may cause a panic. Just tell them it's standard precaution."
The blacksmith simply nodded and hobbled out of the Great Hall, letting the giant doors clang shut behind him.
As the sound echoed thru the hall, the father and son let silence fall between them.
"Sooo…" Hiccup hesitated and spoke slowly, "You want me to go to Ironfort with you? So I can…"
Stoick picked up where Hiccup had allowed his sentence to trail off. "So you can teach the Adiarf'Rs how to train their own dragons."
"But…the academy?"
"The academy will be just fine. Second only to your mother, Astrid Hofferson is the strongest, smartest, most courageous young woman I have ever known. She can lead them." Stoick cocked an eyebrow and grinned down at his son. "She'll make a fine wife for you some day, Hiccup."
Hiccup's breath caught in his throat and he coughed in shock of what his father had just said. Sure he liked Astrid, really liked her and had from the day he even knew what a girl was, but a wife someday…
He averted his eyes and ran his fingers nervously thru his unruly dark auburn hair. "Um, can we maybe, you know, talk about…um…that later? You know, when we're not planning a war?"
Stoick nodded and breathed deeply. That feeling in his chest was back, and this time it brought with it a tightening that made it hurt to breath. The pain traveled up this time making his ears ring and his face feel hot.
Hiccup noticed a subtly yet disturbing change in his fathers expression. His brow was creased and his eyes were heavy and seamed to be looking into some faraway place. It scared him.
"Dad?" When his father did not answer he repeated himself a tone louder. Dad!"
Stoick hurriedly shook his head. "What is it, son?"
Hiccup let out a sigh of relief that did not completely alleviate his worry. "You, um, sort of spaced out on me, Dad. You okay."
"Of course I am. I just never expected something like this to happen again in my lifetime. But I'm glad in a way that it HAS happened while I am still around to guide you thru your first real war. Now go, son. Get your friends ready for your task on Dragon Island."
Hiccup nodded at the mention of the assignment that he was dreading.
"Yeah. Twelve dragons. Got it."
As Hiccup left for the academy, Stoick wondered for the first time what was wrong with him. The feelings in his chest were getting worse and spreading. It could be nothing, or it could be something serious, even life threatening. But he was on his way into a war! He did not have time to even think about getting sick.
So he did not think about it.
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On the docks of an island miles and miles from Berk, yet another young chief stood with his eyes fixed on the calm rolling waves of the Great Sea. The light of the high-noon sun glinted off of the gold embellishments of his pure white silk tunic; his extremely long sand-colored hair blew in the wind behind him.
As a child Ingialdr had loved to sit in a circle with the other small boys around Bjorg, the old town blacksmith, and listen to him deliver dramatic orations telling of his war days; the decades-old conflict between their own tribe and the merciless Berserkers. Tales of burning ships, clanging swords and ferocious battle cries that had once enthralled him as a boy now filled him with terror and nauseating dread. Were those stories about to come back to life? Would the Adiarf'Rs and the Berserkers be once again immersed in bloody battle?
It had to have been the Berserkers, Ingialdr knew as he watched the broken, charred wood from his sunken ships wash up on the white sandy beach. Every so often the driftwood would be accompanied by the body of one of the poor fishermen who had perished at the hands of the newly appointed Berserker chief Dagur the Deranged.
"Ing, dear," came a sweet voice behind him, pulling him out of his dark train of thought.
He turned around and smiled sadly at the woman before him. Every day she seamed to grow more radiant. Her hair was as black as a ravens wing, her eyes the exact shade of a storm cloud.
Ingialdr rushed to her and cupped her soft pale face in his strong hands. "Verdandi, my love you, you should be resting."
"I had to be sure you were alright." The chief's wife looked past him at the beach that was now littered with ship parts and dead fisherman. Though she tried to hide it, her face showed her sorrow and her fear, especially her deep gray eyes. "Was it him?" she asked in a small, slightly trembling voice. "Was it Dagur?"
"You needn't worry yourself, dear. In a few days the Hooligan chief Stoick the Vast will arrive. He will know what to do. He will help us build our army and defend ourselves against the Berserkers just as his ancestors did a century ago."
Verdandi nodded and looked down. She wrapped her arms around her prominent belly where in her womb their child grew, soon to be born into a world of war.
"I hope you're right, Ing. You're a great chief. Our people love you. I love you. But our generation has never seen a war. Without the Hooligans…without Stoick…" She couldn't finish her sentence; she only buried her face in her husbands shoulder and clenched her eyes shut, determined not to cry.
Ingialdr nodded slowly and stroked his pregnant wife's pitch-black hair. She had not needed to finish her sentence. He knew what would happen without the Hooligans' help, without their alliance.
Ironfort would surely fall.