As told by Hiccup

Chapter 20

Both my hands ached - my sword hand had never been put to this much work before. With every stroke, my sword felt about a pound heavier, and for every man who fell before me two new ones appeared. The only thing that kept me going was the girl I was fighting for. If I gave in, they would kill her.

How many men are there? I thought feverishly, as another warrior approached, the same mad desire to kill in his eye as the rest of them had.

I averted my eyes from his own. If I looked too hard into anyone's face, if I got to know them, just a little, I couldn't kill him.

With a desperate yell, I slashed at the man, but he parried the blow and hammered down at me again. I only just managed to deflect it. Sparks flew where the metal of his sword met the metal of my shield. My reflexes were slowing, worn down by the fighting, but I managed to dispatch the man before he could react.

I shifted my position, gripping and re-gripping my sword to get a comfortable hold … if anything can be called comfortable when the sweat and blood run together down your face and into your eyes, and you are facing a gory death.

Each contest held a deadly similarity, and yet, at the same time, they all were horribly different. To just kill, kill, kill without mercy, without stopping to think … nobody with a heart comes out of that situation unchanged, and I believe it was the worst experience of my entire life. Blood all around me, but not mine. I began to feel sick with the horror of the battle. The only thing that kept me on my feet was the knowledge that Astrid was depending on me. If I wavered, she would pay.

Another soldier loomed in front of me. He raised his mace to strike, and I lifted my shield to block it. When the weapon hit the shield, it splintered it into pieces. I dodged another blow, and then stabbed him through the heart. I shook the shattered remains of my shield off of my arm with a feeling of despair. Your shield was your most important tool in a battle, I had been taught that from the beginning.

The end is near, I thought hopelessly. I can't keep this up any longer.

I hefted my sword again; preparing to close with what I was sure would be the last foe I would ever face. Toothless took him out with a single blast of flame, and I stumbled backwards.

Silence.

I blinked, and looked around. The cave was quiet as the grave. I couldn't see anyone skulking in the darkness…

"Toothless?"

My voice was cracked and broken, and escaped my lips as a raspy whisper, but he heard, and shook his head.

I closed my eyes, bit my lip, and let the tears seep from beneath my eyelids. At first, they were tears of relief and thankfulness for the deaths of all the ambushing men.

Then they changed to tears of agony and despair. I had killed them. Killed them. Me. I had done it.

I opened my eyes, and pushed the matter to the back of my mind. I had more important things to do.

I began to pick my way through the corpses.

To this day, the experience gives me horrible nightmares. The pale, gore-splattered faces of all those men, staring with eyes like glass and mouths that hung open, devoid of breath, filled with blood. But I kept going, walking through them, and at last I was rewarded.

I fell to my knees beside a girl who was also splattered with blood, but whose chest still rose and fell, whose neck still beat with a pulse.

"Astrid?" I said, leaning close to her.

And at that moment, somewhere distant, I heard the retreat being sounded - a faint blast on a horn, repeated once, and then again.

So we had lost the battle.

Astrid's eyes fluttered open, and she took a deep breath. Her lips shaped my name, but she didn't seem able to say anything else.

I lifted her gently to her feet, and supported her in the brief walk to Toothless' back, helping her into the saddle behind me. Toothless took off, and we set out for Berk.