So the Outcasts have Hiccup now, after slowly knocking him out. To put it mildly, he's in a bad situation.
johnnylee619- Oh yes.
Stratoc- Stupidity breeds desperation of the worst kind. And you'll see what happened to the Berk gang.
Consciousness returned in slow, painful bursts, with waves of numbness shooting through bound arms. A sharp sea breeze cut through the throbbing lump on my forehead; so did deep grunts and hissing.
I kept my eyes shut against the breeze; this was not happening, my father's security measures had not failed. A metal cup pressed against my dry lips, spilling sickly-sweet mead. When I tried to turn away, another hand grasped my hair, forced me to swallow. My lungs burned, and for a terrible moment it felt like I was coughing fire. The same bristly hand whacked my back.
The night scene and skull-like grins came into focus. Outcasts stood with large swords and metal nets; those who didn't watch me watched the cloudy horizon. I saw a black mass encased in barbed metal, drowsy green eyes dilated as they took in my condition.
"Toothless!" I mouthed with dizzy relief. He was all right, even if bound and muzzled with skull-adorned leather. As if he could view my thoughts, Toothless's expression became harsh as a familiar, bulky Outcast approached.
"Nice to have you join us," Alvin said conversationally. "Was worried that we may have knocked you into Valhalla. That's enough, Savage."
The Outcast with the cup let me go; I swayed. Every Viking ship had a wooden beam at the stern and keel; it seems that to avoid getting slashed by the Nadder fangs, the Outcasts had wrapped my arms in metal chains and then tied the chains to the beam. Dragon teeth couldn't couldn't through metal, after all. Thick ropes tied the keel in place so that it didn't jostle.
"I bet you're wondering how we outsmarted your father's guards and kept him away from the home invasion," Alvin said. The mast cast rectangular shadows on his spiked armor. "It's quite a tale."
"Actually no," I said, throat parchment-dry even with the mead. "I'm wondering how you're going to split thirty sheep among twenty men."
He stopped smiling. I adjusted my footing and found my legs tightly bound at the knees; Alvin must have not been able to remove the metal prosthetic. He wanted to make sure that on the off-chance I was able to remove the chains and free Toothless that we wouldn't escape.
"Why don't I demonstrate. Slaughter, you say you lost three fingers in the raid?"
"You bet!" The man waved a bandaged hand.
"Why don't we settle your share here? A limb for a limb." Alvin bent onto Toothless's limp form and yanked a blue ear out of the netting. With the other hand he pulled out his large sword. Toothless closed his eyes.
"No!" The shout escaped my lips, and I strained forward. The chains rattled.
Alvin chuckled. Toothless gave me a reproachful glance as the Outcast released him.
"Battle humor, son; Slaughter will get his fair share of sheep, more than enough to feed his family. Of course," he shot a glance at his men, "you'd get more if you had been more careful with our Dragon Conqueror. Could have killed him."
"That's not our fault!" One of them called. "You try burning down a mead hall in broad daylight."
Burning down a mead hall? Alvin saw the shock on my face.
"Oh, we didn't mention that Berk has been reduced to cinders?" he asked. "Your father's a tough Viking, but he didn't make it out of the blaze. What a shame." He shook his head and tsked.
No. I met his eyes, disbelieving. The ship sailed at a steady clip, but no one lit a torch in the growing darkness.
"Oh, don't worry, not everyone died. Your girlfriend's on the other boat with HER Nadder, as are the other riders." He pointed. "That's why it's a bigger ship, what with all the Berk dragons on board. She'll live, as long as we come to an understanding."
Salt dried on my ragged lips. I took slow deep breaths as the waves cradled the other boat.
"It's all right to cry son; you've had a rough day. I won't think less of you." His black eyes glittered.
By all means, he wasn't far off; Astrid's training hadn't prepared me for facing an army, my friends wouldn't be able to ride to the rescue with their dragons trussed up on an Outcast ship, and Berk had burned down while prosecuting Mildew. I had almost every reason to burst into angry tears.
Almost.
Vikings couldn't cry, and pride wouldn't have let me anyway; thoughts clacked against my throbbing head. I shifted weight onto my right foot and ignored the chains cutting into my elbows.
"What sort of understanding, Alvin?"
"Oh, we have a dragon problem on Outcast Island," he said. "We were hoping you could help us fix it and then some." He shot a glance at Toothless.
"You want me to teach you to ride dragons." My voice came out flat. "I don't believe this."
"And why not, boy? Think we can't handle it?"
I bit down on the anger so that it hardened into crisp words. "Berk has a Dragon Academy. You didn't have to shoot down my dragon, starve out children to recruit them, humiliate my father's guards, or burn down the village to learn dragon riding. We have something called rolling admissions. You could have APPLIED."
His expression darkened. "Not with your father hanging around the place."
That's when I knew: my father was still alive. That's why we were sailing without torchlight, why Alvin had only revived me on the open sea, and why I was tied to the boat. Dad would come, and Thornado wouldn't be able to sink the ship while I was chained to the stern like a pirate's hostage. They needed an opening.
"I understand my father's perspective," I said, "considering you killed my mother."
"What?"
"That's why Dad had you banished," I continued in an offhand tone. "She was too smart for your political schemes, so you killed her the way you killed Humongous the Hotshot."
A terrible moment brewed like a maelstrom; the sea air churned and a large wave sprayed freezing foam. Outcast exclamations peppered the air. Alvin made a motion, as if wanting to grab my throat. Then he restrained himself.
"Is that what your father told you?" he asked, anger seething between his bushy eyebrows.
"He doesn't tell me anything." I kept my words careless. "And it's not like I'm going anywhere. Who taught you to wrap people in chains?"
"Berserks," he said simply, coming closer. "Quite nice people when they're trying not to kill you, and they look like shiny fish when wrapped up."
I kept my eyes level with his. "What did you do to my mother? Why did my father have you banished?"
Alvin's eyes gained a dangerous, amused, twinkle. He let sultry words slink with the sea breeze. Apparently murderous barbarians could tell campfire stories, and his tone become affable, almost friendly. Despite Toothless's warning glance, the sharp sea breeze, and the Outcasts' gleaming weapons, Alvin's tale pulled me in. His gifted tongue went to work.