Snart's Saga, Part I Chapter 12
The next day, he took his wagon into town for some fish. Everyone was talking about the raid, and the dark dragon that had sunk three ships and broken up the raiders' circle. Snart was finishing up his deal with a fishing-boat skipper when he saw Bustrib approaching.
"Are you collecting different dragons now?" he demanded.
"That's my new dragon. The old one... is gone."
"I still don't trust those things," Bustrib rumbled, "but if you can keep them under control, then I'll find a way to deal with it. We're mounting a return raid, like we did the last time we got hit. We're going by sea this time. Want to join us? I like the idea of a flying scout."
"Will I get my share of the spoils this time?" Snart demanded, looking the bigger man in the eye.
"The men don't like dragons. They won't let you be an official part of the raiding party, so you won't get a share. Sorry, that's the way it has to be. Maybe I could sneak you a few goodies on the side. Or would you do it out of loyalty to your village?"
"Loyalty has to be earned, Bustrib, and Hulm hasn't done much to make me loyal." Snart had a sudden thought. "But if I'm not part of the group, then the rules for the group don't apply to me, right?"
"Are you afraid we'll leave you behind?"
"It's the rule about 'not taking anything for yourself' I was thinking of. If I can't get a share of the group's loot, then I'll take my own loot, and no one can complain. Right?"
Bustrib thought for a moment. "Don't let the men see you do it. Our target is Machen Island, about two and a half days to the north by sea. We sail with the tide, which is a little after lunch."
"There's no reason for me to go all the way with you. My dragon can get me there faster than any ship, and I don't want him to scare those poor, fragile warriors of yours." Bustrib scowled. "I'll catch up with you just before you enter their harbor. If they try to fight on the docks, my dragon and I will make short work of them. He's a real fighter."
"I'll bet," grumbled Bustrib.
Snart spent the next two days teaching his dragon tricks and commands. Skyraider wasn't much interested in aerobatics, but he excelled at target practice. All Snart had to do was communicate his choice of targets, and those targets were reduced to ash in moments. With some practice, that communication became second nature to both of them. "This dragon lives to blow things up," Snart thought.
He tried to find out if Skydancer's saddle would fit, but the Skrill wanted no part of that. When Snart tried too hard to put it on him, the dragon flew away and didn't come back for half the day. Snart resigned himself to riding bareback.
On the third day, he hung a large leather bag over Skyraider's neck. The dragon accepted it when Snart explained that it wasn't a saddle, but was to be filled with stolen loot. The Skrill had no problem understanding that abstract concept! Snart mounted up, pointed Skyraider in the right direction, and settled down for a fast ride.
Two hours later, they passed over the three ships of the Hulm raiding fleet. He circled them once, saw a few of them wave to him, and headed on into the harbor.
The village looked almost deserted. That was no surprise, seeing how all of their men had been killed in that last raid. Some of the women pointed at him, rushed inside, and came out with rakes, kitchen knives, and other improvised weapons. He heard Skyraider snort.
The women formed a line across the road from the docks to the village center. That might have been a good defense against warriors on land, but they weren't thinking three-dimensionally. Snart and Skyraider flew right over their line and landed in the middle of town. When the armed women turned and charged, Snart gave the "fire line" command, and Skyraider drew a smoking line in the dirt that stopped them in their tracks. It was time to put on a show of bravado. He didn't feel much bravado, although riding a dragon should have helped.
"What do you want from us?" one of them demanded.
Snart stepped off the dragon and unslung his bag. "I want this bag filled with non-perishable food, good winter boots, and anything made of silver. If I don't get what I want, and get it fast, my dragon here will start burning your village down, one house at a time."
"Thief!" called someone from behind the main row of women.
"It's the Viking way," shrugged Snart. "Your men didn't worry about being thieves when they raided my village."
"Where are our men?" a tall woman in front asked.
Snart shrugged again. "When Vikings go on raids, sometimes people get hurt. Now, am I going to get my goods, or does my dragon have to lose his temper?" Most of the women scattered to their houses, where they soon emerged with the things Snart wanted.
Meanwhile, three of the women remained. "Are... are all the men dead?" the tall one asked. She wore a heavy ring of keys on her belt, a sign of authority.
"I think there were two survivors; one surrendered, and the other was captured wounded. The one who surrendered was claimed by one of our women, to replace her husband who was killed in the raid. I hear that man is a solid fisherman and is adjusting to his new life. His name is Icebit."
The tall woman relaxed somewhat. "Icebit is my brother." The other women had almost filled his bag by now. Then came a cry from the waterfront — "Raiders! Three strange ships entering the harbor!" Once again, the women took up their "weapons" and lined up to bar the harbor road.
"Don't fight them!" shouted Snart. "You'll lose, and your village will be a ghost town. Give them what they want and they'll go." The women held a quick conference, and every one of them ran for the edge of the village. When the Hulm warriors landed and charged into the town, no one was there but Snart.
"What's in the bag?" one of them demanded.
"Fish for the dragon," answered Snart with a shrug, as though the answer was obvious. The raiders tried hard to pretend that the dragon wasn't there as they searched the village for anything worth stealing. It took them less than an hour; then they returned to their ships without another word to Snart, and set sail for home, congratulating themselves on another outstanding raid.
Snart waited after they left. When asked afterwards, he couldn't give a good reason why. When the women returned to their village, he was still in the center of the town, standing beside his dragon. They surrounded him at a respectful distance. "What more do you want?" the tall one demanded.
"I just... wanted to be sure you were safe, that's all," Snart stammered.
"Safe?" cried the tall one. "Your people slaughtered our men, and now you care about our safety? Are you going to be here when the next bunch of raiders comes through? Are you going to save us from being carried off, or worse? You've left us defenseless! Curse your eyes!" The other women shouted support for her.
Snart gazed at her thoughtfully. The women of this village had real spirit. Too bad they knew nothing about fighting. An idea occurred to him...
"If I could arrange to have this village defended with some real firepower, would you be interested?"
"What do you suggest? Are you going to take one of us as your wife, and live here with us?" A few of them tittered at the thought.
"No, what I suggest is that I'll teach one of you how to ride a dragon. You'll have your own dragon warrior who's totally loyal to Machen. Would that do?"
They all went silent at that. Finally, a short, plump woman asked, "What kind of dragon warrior are you looking for?"
"She needs to be young and single; training a dragon is a lot of work, and you can't do that and raise children at the same time. She needs her parents' permission, and she needs to be fearless, of dragons and of heights."
Five women turned to the tall one all at once and said, "Hildi."
"My daughter Hildi is the one you're looking for," the tall one said, with a trace of growing relief. "She's always been a handful, but I can see her on a dragon. It might be good for her, as well as for us."
"Where is this Hildi?"
"She's probably in one of the upstairs windows, trying to decide whether you or your dragon should be the target for her spear. Hildi! Come down! This dragon-man has an offer for you."
After half a minute, an equally tall teen-age girl stepped out of a nearby house, holding a spear as her mother had predicted. She was not beautiful, but her eyes were fiery and spirited and her bearing proud. She locked eyes with Snart. "I can guess what you want with me. I should warn you, I've got a temper and I'm stronger than I look."
"You guessed wrong, Hildi. How would you like to be a dragon rider?"
Her eyes went wide. After several seconds, her mother remarked, "That's the first time in her life she's been speechless. I like the effect of dragons on her already. You have my consent to train her, dragon-man, as long as you train her in dragons and nothing else, do I make myself clear?"
Snart was amused at how this defeated woman was suddenly giving him orders. "Perfectly, Frue. How about it, Hildi? Could there be a dragon in your future?" After another long pause, she nodded. "Okay. Then we'll take a quick test flight around the village, and see how you handle it. Sit here, in front of me, between these spines." The young woman awkwardly seated herself on the thick neck. The Skrill rumbled a low protest, but didn't stop her.
"Hold on tight. This dragon takes off like —" He didn't have a chance to finish his sentence before Skyraider leaped upward, slamming Hildi back against him. He didn't put on the wild ride that Snart had had to endure on his first flight, though. He just went straight up for about a thousand feet, then rolled level and slowed down.
Hildi had let out one quick scream during the climb, but now she was totally entranced by the view. "I can see everything! There's the fish hall, and the Mead Hall, and that must be the smithy, and — oh! That's my house!" She was so enthusiastic, he hated to end the ride.
She was bubbling over when they landed. "Oh, Mother, you can't imagine what it's like to see everything from that high up! I don't know if I can ever go back to the ground again."
"You may not have to, Hildi," Snart interjected. "You passed all my tests. I'll be back for you early tomorrow morning; you need to dress warmly and bring some food. We'll fly to the island of Berk, where the dragons are. I will help you find one that likes you, we will fly back here, and I'll start training you so you can train your dragon." He realized that he sounded very matter-of-fact about things that must sound like fairy tales to his listeners.
He turned to the girl's mother. "Finding the right dragon might take half a day, or it might take three or four days. We never know with dragons. I promise you, I will take good care of her in every way. Every way!"
"If you keep your promise, dragon-man, I'll be very surprised."
"Just because I'm a Viking doesn't mean I'm a villain. Your island will have its defender, and you will have your daughter. I'll be back tomorrow morning. Skyraider, up and away!" The Skrill made an even faster climb this time, with a corkscrew turn on the way up, before rolling out and heading for the farm at full speed.
"Some Viking he is!" one of the women commented. "He forgot his bag of loot."
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A/N
Frue — ma'am