Chapter Three
Gobber had been typically unsympathetic to Hiccup as the young man had slunk into the back of the forge, cuffing him around the head for being stupid enough to be at risk of his life.
"Mutton head!" he snapped, watching the boy duck and flinch. "Yer father would be furious that yer risked yer life!" Defiantly, Hiccup's head snapped up and his emerald eyes flashed at the implication.
"A knight protects the weak and helpless!" he quoted shortly. "I had to rescue him!" Gobber's thick blonde unibrow dipped over his nose and he shook his head.
"Yeah-and yer father would have done the same," he admitted-before his voice dropped to a growl. "BUT he wouldnae have cheeked the King. Yer father-Odin welcome his soul Valhalla-had some sense! He would have apologised for the boy, quoted the codes and BOWED HIS HEAD!" Hiccup scowled back.
"I did bow my head," he protested.
"Only because it's harder to decapitate someone like that," Gobber muttered. He gestured with his hook and achingly, the boy peeled his tunic off, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, waiting. For a moment, Gobber paused, staring at the fresh wounds and feeling guilt that he couldn't protect his friend's son, couldn't spare him one second of the pain he was feeling-or would feel, over and over. Gobber had his niche, his forge, his job...but for Hiccup, there was only hard toil and harder words and knocks. The boy had a stubborn core that drove him on, despite the unfairness of everything, because his father would expect him to. He was sassy and sarcastic and determined and very smart and brave but one day, that wouldn't be enough and the cruelty of his life, the savageness of his masters and the despair of his future would finally break him. And Gobber very honestly wanted to be dead before his son's will shattered and the boy crumbled.
Taking a very deep sigh, he pulled out the little jar of salve and peered within: he was running short but the boy needed it because the wounds were deep and far too many. His gaze trailed over the older scars marring the smooth skin, silent testimony to the brutality he had endured without reason and he curled in shame. None of this was Hiccup's doing and he was far better than this. Shaking his head, he soothed the buttery cream over the fresh cuts and he saw the young man flinch, heard his hiss and felt another curl of shame.
"I may have been sarcastic," Hiccup admitted quietly.
Gobber gave a low chuckle, his hand especially gentle over the last few marks.
"That's Stoick's son!" he laughed and Hiccup gave a sigh.
"And reckless," he added. Gobber patted his shoulder gently.
"As long as yer aren't stupid, lad," he warned, clicking the top back on the jar and stowing it safely. "Think before yer speak!" Nodding, Hiccup eased the stained tunic back over his scored shoulders and stared at the floor for a long moment.
"Do you think I would be allowed to take the Tests?" he asked quietly. Gobber spun round and stared at the young man, still grimacing as he pulled the tunic down and lifted his head.
"Yer kidding?" he gasped and Hiccup gave a lopsided smile.
"Thuggory reminded me that anyone can take the tests-if he has a sponsor…" he murmured and Gobber sighed, leaning against the counter of the forge.
"And there's yer problem, lad," he reminded the young man. "I canna see any one of those self-interested swine allowing ye tae take the tests and threaten their own sons.' Emerald eyes widened in hurt but the stubborn expression was still there.
"Thuggory has sworn that he will sponsor me to take the tests," he said firmly. "He was my friend from when we were pages. He has the right as Heir to the Meathead honour to sponsor me!" Gobber bit back the answer he wanted to say.
Where has he been this last three years? he asked silently, seeing his young friend's eyes lit with hope. Battered, bruised and vulnerable, it was clear the encounter with Thuggory had made a huge impression on Hiccup and offered the boy a smidgeon of hope. I just pray to Thor he doesn't let you down again, Gobber sighed, looking as Hiccup slowly got to his feet and grabbed his sword, ready for practice. No matter what, he wouldn't miss his practice-especially not now he had a hope of achieving his goal. He knew you were disowned and he did nothing. He has had a thousand days to find you and offer you hope and friendship-and he did nothing. Why has he suddenly befriended you again? That one looks after himself first and last! I just pray he doesn't betray you.
oOo
The day of the Hunt dawned bright and misty, the heavy rains of the last two days a fading memory. There was furious activity as the drudges were kicked out of their beds long before dawn to begin preparing the yard, the horses and food for the riders. The Princess, her entourage, Lord Eret, Captain Spitelout, Knights Hoark and Ack, most of the apprentice knights and the huntsmen and masters of hounds were all congregating in the yard. Horses were being readied and the stable staff were racing against time. A table of sweetmeats were laid out which Snotlout and Spitelout were already helping themselves to liberally.
Hiccup was slaving in the stables, grooming and saddling horses as fast as he could. His training as a page and squire meant he was excellent in caring for and dealing with horses and could prepare them quickly and accurately. Oddvar had handed him over without argument because Steinar, the stable master, was a violent drunk who would punch a man as soon as look at him. This meant that Hiccup got to work somewhere he enjoyed-but he had to keep his head down and mouth firmly shut to avoid the stable master's greedy whip. However, when he was out of sight, he sneaked to the back of the stable and stole a few moments with the spirited black stallion there that his father had bought him shortly before his death. Fury was Hiccup's horse, stolen from him and adopted by Snotlout as his second ride, though others used the steed-but the horse was bonded to the auburn-haired boy. Whenever Hiccup got the time to steal a few moments with Fury, the stallion always nuzzled urgently into his hand and greeted him happily.
"Glad to see you too, bud," Hiccup murmured, stroking the velvet nose gently and hugging the beast. "One day-I will get you away. Thuggory has given me an idea-and when I am a knight, I can demand my birthright back-including you." He heard a bellow and his head snapped up. he patted the nose again. "Better go-I'm still sore from Oddvar's whipping. I'll sneak in later when they're all out hunting and see if we can exercise you..." Then he grabbed a bowl of water and emerged...to see Steinar scowling at him. He ducked.
"Rat! This page wants you!" the drunk bellowed, his suffused face even redder and eyes flashing with fury.
"Me-me, sir?" Hiccup asked, shocked. No one even remembered he existed.
"NOW!" Steiner roared, reaching for his whip and Hiccup nodded, grabbed the page's hand and hauled him out of the stable at top speed before the man came for them.
"Why do you want me?" he asked urgently and the young lad shrugged.
"I don't-but Squire Tete de Carne has ordered me to fetch you urgently!" the boy said carelessly and pulled away. "Can't see why he would want you...unless..." Hiccup rolled his eyes.
"No!" he snapped. "I know the way..." The boy just stood there, leering. "Haven't you got anything to do?"
"No," the boy sniggered.
"Rephrase: get outta here!" Hiccup snapped and straightened up, trotting urgently across the yard and into the barracks and the room he had previously visited. He looked around anxiously-because none of the apprentice knights were at all kind to him-before he rapped smartly on the door. A groan answered him and he paused, unsure what he would find and praying to Odin it wasn't some cruel joke at his expense before he pushed the door inwards and slid into the room.
His eyes adjusted to the gloom and he saw a humped shape lying in the bed, groaning under the thick blanket. With a sigh, he walked to the small window and threw the drapes back, allowing the brilliant sun to shine in over the man's face. Thuggory instantly threw his hand over his eyes and whined.
"Shut it off!" he rasped.
"You have to be up!" Hiccup reminded him, moving over and checking his equipment. His armour and weapons were all in order. He frowned and looked up in surprise, emerald eyes sweeping over the writhing shape of the squire. "Thug-what's wrong?"
"Need...your help..." Thuggory groaned, his eyes still screwed shut. "I went out last night with Snotlout, Tuffnut and Dogsbreath and...my head is exploding..." Hiccup folded his arms and scowled.
"Real mature," he scolded him. "Night before the Hunt and you get super-wasted. You couldn't have done it a night earlier?"
"I was on guard duty so no..." Thuggory said snarkily.
"So instead you did it before the Hunt," Hiccup sighed. "I guess you'll just have to tell them you're not going and..."
"I can't do that!" the squire told him sharply, bloodshot eyes snapping open. "I-er-I've already missed too many Hunts and training sessions because I've been hung over and unfit. If I miss another one, I could be refused the tests-or thrown out completely." Hiccup stared at him in shock, a sick feeling clutching his stomach. A small part of him felt concern for his (former?) friend but a larger part of him felt betrayed-because Thuggory had called him for a reason.
"Thug...you need help," he said seriously, meaning the drinking. Thug was always one to enjoy a good time and Hiccup had noticed him enjoying a few ales even when they were young. That it had gotten to this state was serious. "I..."
"I knew I could rely on you," Thuggery said in relief and lay back, his eyes fluttering closed. The younger man stiffened and his eyes widened in shock.
"You...I...what?" he finally managed.
"I knew you would help," Thuggory said. Hiccup stared at him and sighed.
"What do you want?" he asked. Thuggory's handsome but very stubbly and drawn face moved into a smile.
"Pretend to be me," he said.
Hiccup back-pedalled so fast he slammed backwards into the door, hissing in pain as his barely scabbed welts impacted against the wood.
"You are kidding!" he choked. "Do you have any clue how much trouble I could get into? Being executed is about the least I could expect!" Thuggory blearily sat up.
"Chill," he said and pointed at his clothes and armour. "No one will tell. Just put my clothes on over yours-to hide the serious lack of muscles, Hicc-and then the armour and weapons and helm and cloak. No one will see its you!"
"Everyone will know!" he protested, eyes wide and face pale in horror. It was insanity. Sure, he was almost Thuggory's height but the man was twice his width and his handsome, tanned face with dark, sparkling eyes and jet hair was pretty much the opposite of Hiccup's pale, sharp-jawed face with a smattering of faint freckles, his bright emerald eyes and tousled dark auburn hair. Thuggory was arrogant, self-confident and brash while Hiccup tended to cling to the shadows , hung back and just got on with things. "No one will be fooled!"
"Hicc-if I'm off the programme, I can't sponsor you," Thuggory reminded him smoothly. "And I want you to have your shot."
"If I'm not already dead by then," Hiccup reminded him, breathing hard. Every instinct was telling him that this was the worst possible idea and would end in horrible disaster. And it was only that thin, treacherous thread of hope that had him listening instead of running for the door and praying no one had heard him even considering this nonsense.
"Look, I've got your back!" Thuggory told him gruffly. "Remember when I saved your ass when we were pages?" Hiccup frowned. "When Snot and Tuff dared you to go to the Armoury and lift the King's sword? And when the Commander came in, I took the rap and saved your hide...?"
Hiccup frowned. That actually wasn't how he remembered it. Rather, his recollection was that Thuggory had proclaimed he would steal the King's sword to prove his courage, Snot and Tuff had called him a chicken and Hiccup had been hauled along as look-out. And when his father had come in and surprised them, Hiccup had bowed his head and accepted equal share of the blame because he had been helping...and Thuggory had finally stepped up only when the younger boy had been hauled forward for his beating for the crime.
But he had-finally-stepped up. Hiccup sighed and stole a look at the horribly hung-over squire and sagged in defeat. He knew he was going to do this, going to get himself in an entire world of trouble for someone who had only just come back into his life but who had been one of his closest friends for years. He had to trust that all that history would make sure that Thuggory would keep his bargain and do the decent thing. And he had to consciously force himself not to sound amazingly pathetic and ask the question 'Promise?'.
"I believe you," he said heavily instead and walked to the pile of clothes. Thuggory always wore deep blue-not a colour that flattered Hiccup-but he kicked off his boots and hauled the leggings on over his own, tightening the tie round his very skinny waist to prevent them falling down before hauling the tunic over his own. It was a good quality garment and he immediately felt warmer as he straightened out the creases and then dragged the armour on over the tunic, fasting the straps and hauling his boots on again. Thuggory's tabard was next, the crossed axe and leg of mutton the sign of the Meathead house. Then came the sword belt, a couple of daggers, the sword, a heavy cloak, gauntlets and the enclosing helm. Hiccup adjusted it: it enclosed his helm and the nose-piece covered half his face. There was a grille that shielded his emerald eyes leaving only his chin and the sides of his jaw exposed. Casting around, Hiccup found a scarf and wrapped it around his neck, managing to tuck away the bottom inch of his hair in the fabric. Then he turned to Thuggory. The man began to chuckle.
"You know, I could almost be looking at me," he smirked.
"I just have to hope they think I'm pale because I'm hung over," Hiccup commented dryly. "Stay here until we're back." Thuggory grinned.
"I have no intention of moving from here," he said easily and Hiccup nodded, took a deep breath and then slid out of the door. Thuggory saw it close and listened for the steps receding before rising to his feet and grinning. He wasn't anywhere near as drunk as he had pretended-because though he really hadn't wanted to go on the boring Hunting trip with a very hung over crowd of squires, he actually had other plans for the day. And upstairs, there was a very flirty lady-in-waiting whose mistress would be out hunting all day and who would be waiting for the word to sneak down and spend a very pleasant stolen day with the handsome squire.
He was sure Hiccup would be fine.
oOo
Heart pounding in his chest, Hiccup rapidly sped to the forge, grabbing the familiar sword he practiced with in its old battered scabbard. Thuggory possessed a fine blade but the balance was wrong for the left-handed Hiccup and if he was going to be sent on this idiotic mission, he at least wanted a weapon he could trust.
"Here! Yer can't just help yerself tae weapons, squire to not!" Gobber growled and Hiccup ripped the helm off, turning to face him. There was a pregnant silence.
"Laddie?" the blacksmith gaped. "I don't even want ter ask why yer dressed in those clothes and..." He stared. "Yer didnae listen tae me, did ye?" Hiccup sighed and strapped the old sword to his hip, leaving Thuggory's propped in the corner of the forge..
"Nope," he admitted. "Gotta do this though. Can you take care of Thug's sword? He's wasted and will be in real trouble if he doesn't make the hunt."
"And yer takin' his place?" Gobber gaped. "Oh, laddie, that is the worst idea..."
"Which I completely acknowledge," Hiccup sighed. "But he promised to be my sponsor and I...can't say no if I want him to give me my chance."
"I really wish you would drop this idea," Gobber sighed. "I mean, this could have you executed out of hand..."
"And I'm not dying already?" Hiccup asked him sharply, turning to face the man with flashing eyes. "You've had your life, you were a knight and now you have your honoured post so you can continue to be treated like a real person after you were retired due to your wounds. But I never will. I was an apprentice, a squire, the son of Commander Haddock-and it was all taken from me unfairly. I never stood a chance-and all my life has become is slavery and brutality. I can't spend the rest of my life fearing annoying Oddvar or his successor! I am a Haddock, raised to be a knight and honestly, if they threw me out into the wilds to be eaten by wild beasts, it would be far better than my life now! So I am going because even the faintest hope of being allowed to try the Tests is better than knowing all I have is slaving as a menial until I'm killed by some drunken knight or die of starvation!"
Gobber stared and then walked forward, resting his hand gently on the tense shoulder.
"I know," he sighed, "and I'm sorry, Hiccup. I wish I could have done more fer ye. Just...be careful, okay? And don't trust Thuggory-or any of those knights. Because no matter how good a friend he was in the past, he hasn't bothered with ye fer three years-and suddenly he's got an insane task fer ye? It doesn't smell right!" Hiccup sighed and his shoulders slumped.
"I know," he admitted. "But I'm desperate. When the rest of my group do the Tests and I'm forbidden, when they become knights and I'm condemned forever to be a miserable drudge...I-I don't know how I can go on then. I'm just about hanging on to my courage now, Gobber-but when they pass and I'm left behind...I'll just give up. Let me do this. Maybe this will be the last time in my life I get to touch my dream before all hope is lost. So I want this-and I'll accept what it costs." He sighed. "Dad always says that a man forges his own destiny-and that courage and honour will bring their own reward."
"Aye, yer Dad was always a hopeless optimist and poet," Gobber muttered, throwing a hug around the lad. "Go with Odin, son. And watch yer back!" Hiccup dragged the helm back on and tucked the strands of his hair away, then nodded and swept out of the forge. He headed direct to the stables and swiftly saddled Fury, leading the jet stallion out himself to the back of the party, which was almost assembled. Discreetly, he grabbed a handful of meat rolls and sweetmeats and stuffed them in his saddle-bags, before taking a place right at the back of the group and keeping his head down.
Princess Astrid cast her eyes across the group, seeing the squires looking very subdued and sluggish. Spitelout was wincing and also looking the worse for wear and the young woman caught a strong whiff of mead on his breath as she passed. She scowled: they had been drinking. Probably her entire hunting party was hung over and she muttered a curse under her breath. This was certainly not what her father had planned when he had organised the trip with Lord Eret. She cast an unfriendly look at the northerner and saw him smile smugly at her. So much for her men protecting her from this unknown!
And she couldn't help thinking that none of them would have dared that kind of dereliction of duty of her father had been leading the hunt, not his daughter.
Rage ignited in her chest. She had never asked to be the Princess-Heir. She had wanted her brother to inherit so she would have the freedom to forge her own destiny, but fate had taken her choices and condemned her to a life of rules and protocol and etiquette, a cage that trapped her tighter than any condemned man. But she was a Hofferson and no matter what she wanted, she would always have the courage and steadfastness to do her duty. She had to protect the Kingdom of Berk-and if that meant she had to entertain the unsettling Lord Eret or consider a marriage of convenience, then she would-reluctantly-do it. But she wouldn't trust anyone-not her supposed guards, the apprentice knights or Lord Eret.
She mounted and glared at Hoark, Ack and Spitelout-her senior escorts. All of them were leaning against the table, chugging watered down ale and scarfing plates of meat and dried fish to try to combat their obvious hangovers. Astrid watched a page bring one a cup of raw eggs which he drank in one long pull with a grimace. As he looked green afterwards, she concluded it hadn't worked.
"Captain-are we planning on leaving anytime today?" she asked Spitelout pointedly and the bulky, solid man opened his remote blue eyes and grimaced.
"At your pleasure, Highness," he said gruffly and waved his arm vaguely at the apprentice knights who were standing in small, mutually miserable groups. There was grumbling and muttering as they trudged to their mounts, held ready by the sniggering pages. It seemed obvious there had been some sort of party among the squires and that everyone but everyone had been on a bender, disregarding their duty to the princess. Only one squire mounted as the order was given and then there was an embarrassingly long pause as the rest slowly got into the saddle, falling, chattering and generally acting as if it was a training ride, not a Hunt with the Heir to Berk.
Finally, they moved out and Astrid, impatient and exasperated, kicked her blue roan, Stormfly, to a gallop to test her men. stealing a glance over her shoulder to see only one of the squires respond to her actions, matching speed as she sped away. The rest of the party was floundering and she smiled at the sight of the tall squire in the deep blue riding directly after her...until Spitelout yelled at him and he flinched, bowed his head and dropped back to allow the Captain, the senior knights and the other squires-including Spitelout's arrogant and overbearing son, Snotlout, to overtake him. Shaking her head in exasperation, she surged again and smirked as they fell behind again, then. The hounds and huntsmen were going to have to strain to keep up as well. It was a decent ride to the forest hunting grounds and she could already tell it was going to be a trying day-even moreso when she realised Lord Eret had galloped alongside her and was matching pace with her.
"Your men look to be a little the worse for wear, Highness," he called, his smooth accent grating. There was a smug smile on his handsome face and a light in his dark eyes that she didn't trust.
"I'm sure they'll perform adequately," she called back dryly. "I'm more interested in your skills, my Lord. My father seemed impressed." Eret grinned expansively.
"I am the greatest Hunter alive today!" he announced smugly.
"A very bold claim," she said as she leaned forward in the saddle. Stormfly hopped over a shallow ditch. "I look forward to seeing you in action."
"My Lady," Eret said calmly. "I always catch what I go after-whether it's a boar, a stag-or a Princess."
And the tone of his voice had a chill run down her spine-because it was devoid of any compassion or mercy. And she knew the real prey on this hunt...was Astrid.
