Chapter 5: Welcome Party
The rest of the trip was largely conducted in silence, the only sound coming from the group produced by the heaving lungs and pounding feet of their horses, which created a large cloud of dust that followed in their wake. Eventually, just as the sun was starting to sink below the horizon, farmsteads began appearing along the side of the road and, soon enough, a small village came into view.
As they approached, Gobber could make out a few details of the village of Yorksdale. From what he could tell, it seemed to be what he imagined a normal village would look like. Near the center of the village, he could make out what looked like a church, its tall steeple rising above the surrounding buildings. Additionally, Gobber could also make out a large building sitting near what he assumed was the village square, leading him to guess it was an inn of some sort. Finally, Gobber noticed thick, black smoke rising from the chimney of one of the buildings, leading him to conclude it was the local smithy, a pang of longing entering his heart as he looked at it.
As the group drew closer to Yorksdale, Gobber could make out people emerging from their homes in order to get a better look at the approaching group. As they entered the village, the people began to gather in the village square where the group was heading. While they rode, Gobber noticed many gazes falling on him as he went past and spotted a few of the villagers talking amongst themselves and pointing at him.
Soon enough, the group reached the village square, pulling their horses to a stop as what seemed like the entire village came out to greet them.
"It's Lord Macintosh's son!" one of the villagers declares.
"Lord Dingwall an' MacGuffin's sons tae!" another observes.
"They've come tae slay th' dragon!" a third cheered as a cry of joy suddenly swelled up from the crowd. Will smiled at the reaction as he dismounted his horse.
"Yes, yes," Will stated, motioning with his for the crowd to calm down in order to hear him, "Ma lord father heard o' yer plight an' sent us here with these good men in order tae dispatch this dragon."
The crowd let out another loud cheer as the rest of the warriors dismounted from their horses. The villagers quickly fell silent though as Gobber let out a cry of surprise while dismounting his horse before he fell to the ground and landed on his rear. Groaning and rubbing his back, Gobber glanced around at the crowd, only to find that all eyes had fallen on him.
"Ah'm fine!" Gobber declared, annoyance in his voice as Maudie hurried over to him and helped him stand back up, "Naebody panic!"
"Whit's a bloody Viking daein' here!?" a voice from the crowd demanded, affirmed by the angry shouts and nods from the crowd.
"Good people, please," Will said, holding his hands up in a placating gesture while walking over Gobber's side as the Viking stood back up, "As ye all well know, we hae formed an alliance with th' Viking tribe o' Berk, who are world renowned fer bein' dragonslayers. Not anly 'at, but this man, Gobber th' Belch, is a member o' our clan through his mother. He is ane o' us, an' Ah expect him tae be treated as such."
Nobody in the crowd argued with Will, but Gobber noticed a few of the villagers shooting glares at him and muttering to one another.
"Now, who's in charge here?" Will questioned as he glanced around at the crowd.
"'At wud be, ma lord," a voice rose up out of the crowd as a man pushed his way to the front. He was a short, pot-bellied man with balding brown hair and runny brown eyes. He was dressed in fine-looking clothing, though they appeared to have been tailored for a man a size smaller.
"Ah am Malcolm, my lord," the man explained as he gave Will a deep bow, "Th' duly appointed mayor o' this fine village."
"It's good tae meet ye, Malcolm," Will replied with a nod of his head, "Perhaps there is saeme place where we can better talk aboot 'at's been happenin' here?"
"O' course, mae lord," Malcolm replied before indicating to the large building that Gobber had previously identified as an inn, "Th' inn has a room 'at is ideal fer a private conversation such as this an' has plenty o' spare beds fer ye an' yer men. We also hae a stable where ye can keep yer horses. Ah'll hae saeme o' th' grooms come round an' brin' them there fer ye."
"Thank ye, Malcolm," Will stated with a nod as a few men stepped away from the crowd to take the reins of the group's horses and lead them away. At the same time, Malcolm turned and began leading the group into the inn.
The door inside led to a large open room with a bar against one wall and a dozen tables scattered about. Malcolm led the group through the main area towards the back of the room where there was a door that he opened and ushered them through.
The room beyond was a smaller one, occupied mainly by a single, square table with a number of chairs set up around it while a fireplace occupied one of the walls. As the group filed into the room, Malcolm took a seat at the table, as did the three young lords. The rest of the group, including Gobber, opted to stand, spreading out so they circled the room.
"Alright, Malcolm," Will said after he had settled into his chair, "We were able tae get saeme information from th' messenger ye sent, but we were hopin' ye cud give us th' full story."
"O' course, ma lord," Malcolm agreed with a nod, "It all started a few weeks ago. Saeme o' th' shepherds first reported missin' sheep an' ane man spotted saemethin' large movin' through th' woods tae th' south o' here. Nae ane payed it any mind though. Sheep are always gaein' missin' and people hae been tellin' stories o' thin's lurkin' in th' woods fer generations."
"Sae, whit changed?" Will questioned.
"Aboot a week ago, ane o' th' villager's farm was burnt tae th' ground," Malcolm explained, his expression turning grim, "He said he thought he heard saemethin' movin' aboot in his fields an' when he went tae investigate, a dragon descended on his property, spewin' fire in every direction, setting th' whole property ablaze. Th' farmer an' his family were lucky tae escape with their lives."
A rumble of worry went through the group as the men shot nervous glances at one another.
"Whit happened next?" Will questioned.
"After th' farmer an' his family had escaped from th' attack on their house, we rounded up saeme men tae gae after th' dragon," Malcolm explained.
"How did 'at gae?" Will asked hesitantly.
"Th' men were routed," Malcolm answered, a worried expression on his face, "Nae ane was killed, though a number o' men were scarred an' maimed. We were most fortunate."
"Can ye give us any more information aboot th' dragon?" Will asked.
"Ah cannae," Malcolm replied with a shake of his head, "But ane o' th' men who was there possibly cud."
As Malcolm spoke, a knock came from the door before it opened and a man poked his head into the room.
"Ye called fer me, sir?" the man questioned, looking at Malcolm as he spoke.
"Yes, Balfour," Malcolm replied as he waved the man forward, "Please, come in."
At Malcolm's behest, the man, Balfour, stepped into the room, allowing everyone else to get a better look at him. He was a brawny man, with broad shoulders and muscular arms. He was on the short side, his completely bald head level with Gobber's shoulder. A bushy black beard covered most of his face and he observed the room with beady eyes beneath a pair of thick eyebrows. Gobber also noted that one of his arms was scarred by an angry looking burn.
"Good evenin', m'lords," Balfour stated as he gave the lordlings a quick bow, "Th' mayor summoned me here tae speak with ye."
"Ah take it ye were ane o' th' men who went tae face th' dragon," Will observed, "Whit can ye tell us aboot it?"
"It was a terrible beast, m'lord," Balfour explained, "Seemed almost as big as a barn, if nae bigger. Belched fire like a furnace an' had a wingspan at least as large as this room."
"Is there anythin' else ye can tell us?" Will inquired.
"Nae much, m'lord," Balfour answered with a shake of his head, "It was a dark, moonless night an' we were all busy fightin' fer our lives."
"Great," Gobber sighed as he rubbed his eyes with his good hand.
"Dae ye hae saemethin' tae say, Vikin'?" Balfour questioned, narrowing his eyes as he turned his attention towards Gobber.
"Uh, whit?" Gobber questioned in confusion, before glancing around in surprise as he noticed that the eyes of everyone in the room had fallen on him, "Oh, uh, naethin'. Was just thinkin' out loud."
"Come now, Gobber," Duncan spoke up, smiling at Gobber from the other side of the room, "Ye come from a mighty tribe o' dragon slayers, dae ye nae? Lend us some o' yer wisdom."
Gobber glanced around at the room full of people looking at him, including Maudie and the three lordlings who had nervous expressions on their faces.
"Ah was just….'at information daesnae help us at all," Gobber explained, turning his attention back to Balfour.
"Why nae?" Balfour questioned dangerously.
"Because, dae ye know how many dragons are big an' breathe fire?" Gobber questioned rhetorically, "A lot o' them. An' each ane o' them acts differently an' has different weakness than th' others."
"Whit dae ye know?" Balfour demanded as he eyed Gobber dangerously.
"Ah know 'cause Ah've lived ma whole life dealin' with these thin's," Gobber growled as he turned to face Balfour, glaring down at the shorter man, "Ah know because Ah've trained others tae fight these thin's, an' Ah'd wager they wud hae faired a bit better than ye lot did."
"Gobber!" Maudie hissed, her tone frightened. Looking away from Balfour, Gobber glanced back around the room, noticing that some of the gathered men were glaring at him. Blinking in surprise, Gobber took a deep breath while he collected his thoughts.
"Whit Ah'm tryin' tae say is 'at these thin's are more complicated than ye might think," Gobber explained, "Ah'm gaein' tae need more information if Ah'm gaein' tae help ye all fight this dragon."
"Who said we wanted yer help?" Balfour asked, a testy edge still in his voice, "We asked fer th' lord's help, nae yers."
"An' he sent me," Gobber answered, his eyes narrowing.
"Why are ye even here?" Balfour questioned, "Ye get captured while pillagin' our land?"
"Ma mother was a Highlander," Gobber replied, his voice dropping low with anger, "Ah came here sae Ah cud see her homeland."
"Just because it was her homeland daesnae make it yers, ye Viking mongrel," Balfour spat.
Gobber's nostrils flared angrily at the comment and he clenched his good hand into a fist so tight his knuckles began to crack and pop.
"'At's enough!" Will snapped, his voice commanding respect despite his size and youth compared to the two men, "We're here tae fight a dragon, nae each other."
Will's words seemed to quell the hostility between Gobber and Balfour for a moment as the two men backed off from one another.
"Now, Ah know there are saeme….differences between all o' us here," Will stated, addressing the room as he spoke, "Ah've had tae get used tae them as well. But whit everyane has tae understand is 'at we're all on th' same side now. We're all here tae protect this village from th' dragon, sae Ah daenae want any bickerin'."
Will paused as his gaze fell on Gobber.
"From any o' ye," he added.
Gobber looked away from Will, embarrassment filling his heart and coloring his cheeks. As he did, he noticed Duncan watching him, a small smile crossing the man's features. Gobber shot the man a quick glare before turning away from him as well.
"Th' truth though is 'at Gobber is right," Will continued, "We need more information aboot this dragon if we're gaein' tae dae anythin' aboot it. Sae, tomorrow mornin', we'll get a small group taegether an' see if we cannae track this dragon down."
A wave of agreement went through the room.
"Then let's get everyane settled in sae we can be all rested up come tomorrow," Will stated as he rose from his seat, prompting the others to do the same before they began filing out of the room. As they did, Maudie reached out and touched Gobber on the arm to get the man's attention. Gobber paused and looked back at Maudie in confusion, noticing the woman giving him a silent request to stay behind.
After everyone had filtered out of the room, Maudie let out a small sigh.
"Ah reckon 'at was nae yer best performance," Maudie commented as she looked up at Gobber with a quirked eyebrow.
"Aye," Gobber replied with a sigh, "It wasnae."
"Ye cannae let them bait ye like 'at," Maudie explained as she crossed her arms over her chest, "They've already figured out 'at ye're here under th' grace o' th' lord an', because o' 'at, they cannae dae anythin' tae ye withoot facin' repercussions. But if they can make ye dae saemethin', well…."
"Then all bets are off," Gobber finished with a sigh, "Sae Ah best be on ma best behavior."
Maudie's expression turned sad as she reached out a hand and laid it on Gobber's arm.
"Ah cannae imagine how hard all o' this must be fer ye," Maudie said sympathetically as she gave his arm a squeeze, "Ye've waited sae long tae come home an', after all 'at time, tae hae them treat ye like 'at."
"Well, Ah cannae say it's unfamiliar," Gobber said with a sigh while giving Maudie a small smile which she sadly returned, "Maybe Ah need a walk. Tae clear ma head, ye know?"
"Ah think 'at's a marvelous idea," Maudie agreed with a nod of her head, "Daenae gae gettin' lost now."
"Nae withoot ye, o' course," Gobber replied with a wicked grin that caused Maudie to blush and swat him lightly on the arm before she giggled and left. Gobber grinned as he watched her walk away before sighing.
A few moments later, Gobber exited the building, taking a deep breath of the cool, autumn evening air. Tilting his head back, he looked up at the sky, night having fallen during the meeting and the stars twinkled in the black sky above. The same stars he was used to seeing hanging over Berk.
"Ah suppose saeme thin's are th' same everywhere," Gobber commented to himself before he began walking down the road that ran through the center of town.
The village was a small one, consisting of a few shops and trade buildings along with some modest houses. Almost all of the shops had been closed up for the night as light filtered out of the windows of the houses, the smoke trailing from their chimneys marking the presence of their owners. One smoke trail in particular caught Gobber's attention.
Walking a short ways down the road, Gobber came upon the building that he had assumed earlier was the village smithy, the assertion supported by the myriad of iron tools hanging from the walls of the open building and the rhythmic beat of a hammer striking hot metal.
Curiosity and the yearning for something familiar getting the better of him, Gobber ambled over towards the smithy.
"Uh, hello!?" Gobber called out as he stepped inside and glanced around for any other sign of life, "Ah was jist walkin' by an' saw yer fire was still burnin' sae Ah thought Ah'd stick ma head in an' say hello."
Gobber received no answer and the beating of the hammer continued unabated. Figuring that the smith couldn't hear him over the sound of their work, Gobber shrugged his shoulders and ventured deeper into the smithy, following the sound of the hammer blows and the glow of the furnace.
Rounding a corner, Gobber found himself standing in the main work area of the smithy, illuminated by the dull red glow of the furnace occupying one of the corners. Next to the furnace sat a black iron anvil at which a man was working. The smith was a tall man, easily the same height as Gobber himself though with a more muscular build and coppery red hair that was cut short. He was shirtless, his back glistening with sweat, which caused the crisscrossing pattern of scars that ran up and down his back stand out against his pale skin.
"Excuse me," Gobber said politely, "Ah was wonderin' if…."
Gobber's words trailed off as he realised that the smith still hadn't heard him.
"Um, hello!?" Gobber said awkwardly, raising his voice in an effort to be heard, "Excuse me!"
The smith continued his work, unabated.
"Oi!" Gobber snapped, growing frustrated as he walked up behind the smith and laid a hand on his shoulder, "Ah'm talkin' tae-"
Gobber's words were cut off as the smith let out a high-pitched scream of surprise as he spun to face the Viking, his smith's hammer raised above his head to strike. It was then that Gobber noticed that the smith was not a man, but a boy. A large boy of roughly sixteen years, but a boy all the same, his bright, green eyes wide with fear.
"Easy, lad! Easy!" Gobber shouted as he held up his good hand in an effort to stop the smith, "Watch where ye're swingin' 'at thin'!"
"S-Sorry!" the smith quickly replied as he lowered his hand, his breath coming in excited gasps while his eyes were as wide as a spooked horse's, "Sorry, y-yer jist startled me, is all."
"Aye, Ah can see 'at," Gobber stated with a cautious expression, "Didnae ye hear me come in?"
"Naw," the smith answered with a shake of his head as his gaze dropped, "Oi….Whaen Oi'm workin' oi tend ter git very focused. Me master says 'tis gonna earn me a knife in de back someday."
"It jist might," Gobber agreed with a chuckle, "But nae from me, lad."
The smith smirked at the comment before his brow furrowed in confusion.
"Oi….Oi don't tink Oi've ever met yer before, sir," the smith stated as he gave Gobber a quick look over.
"Ah daenae suppose ye hae, since Ah jist got tae town this evenin'," Gobber replied with a smirk as he extended his good hand to the smith, "Gobber th' Belch."
"Sheamus, sir," the smith replied as he grasped Gobber's hand with own hard, calloused one, "Jist Shamus."
"Pleasure tae meet ye, Sheamus," Gobber stated as he shook the smith's hand, "'At's an interestin' accent ye've got there. Where ye from?"
"De Emerald Isle," Sheamus answered.
"Is 'at sae?" Gobber questioned amicably, "Ah hear it's a lovely place."
"Oi wouldn't know," Sheamus replied with a shrug and a somewhat dour expression, "Oi 'enny been dare since Oi wus a babe."
There was an awkward pause as Sheamus looked Gobber up and down again.
"Are ye a….a Vikin', sir?" Sheamus questioned.
"Er, Ah suppose Ah am," Gobber chuckled, "Half, on my father's side."
"Didn't nu yer cud be half-Vikin'," Sheamus replied.
"Well, ye learn saemethin' new everyday," Gobber stated as he glanced around the smithy, "Open late, aren't ye?"
"Me master wanted me ter git sum thin's finished before Oi cud go ter bed," Sheamus explained.
"Figured ye were a wee bit young tae own yer own smithy," Gobber commented, "Where is yer master?"
"At this hour, 'tis likely Master Balfour is in de tavern," Sheamus answered.
"Balfour?" Gobber questioned in surprise.
"You've met 'im?" Sheamus asked in reply.
"Ah've had th' pleasure," Gobber answered sarcastically.
"Aye, dat sounds about roi," Sheamus stated with a small smile before he looked at Gobber with a puzzled expression, "Yer seem rather interested in all dis. Ye a smith?"
"'At Ah am," Gobber confirmed as he glanced around the room again, "Ah might be on holiday, but Ah can never fully pull maself away from ma work. Speakin' o' which, whit dae ye hae tae finish?"
"Oi nade ter 'ammer out a few nails an' create sum 'orseshoes," Sheamus answered with a sigh as he placed his hands on his hips and glanced around as well, "Plus, Oi nade ter repair a sword dat wus crocked durin' dat scrap wi' de dragon."
Sheamus paused as he looked back at Gobber.
"Ye 'ere ter 'elp wi' dat?" Sheamus questioned, "I've 'eard dat Vikin's scrap wi' dragons more than anyone else."
"Aye, it's why Ah came here," Gobber confirmed with a nod as he looked around again, "But, fer now, Ah think ma work is here."
"Excuse me?" Sheamus asked as he quirked an eyebrow at Gobber.
"All 'at work yer master left ye? Ye'll be at it fer hours if Ah let ye dae it by yerself," Gobber explained, "Sae, Ah'm gaein' tae help ye oot."
"Oi-Oi don't know, sir," Sheamus answered nervously, "If me master comes back an' finds yer 'elping me…."
"If whit ye're tellin' me is true, then yer master is already deep in his cups," Gobber argued, "He wonae be botherin' us any time soon, if he makes it home tonight at all."
"Oi still don't know, sir," Sheamus replied hesitantly, "Oi only jist met ye. How do I really know ye know anythin' about blacksmithin'?"
"Ah'm willin' tae bet 'at Ah've forgotten more aboot blacksmithin' than yer sae called master knows," Gobber argued as he picked up a sword laying nearby and looked it over, "See? Jist look at this shoddy craftsmanship."
"Uh, sir," Sheamus spoke up awkwardly, "Oi actually made dat wan."
"Oh," Gobber replied, having the good sense to look abashed as he turned back to Sheamus, "Well, at least ye hae an excuse. Jist shows 'at ye hav a good deal more tae learn. Here, let me show ye saemethin'."
"Alright," Sheamus replied with a shrug as he stretched his arms, "Are ye a master smith, sir?"
"Ah wudnae use fancy words like 'at," Gobber replied with a chuckle as he glanced around before picking up a nearby forge hammer, "But, Ah hae been workin' as my village's blacksmith fer years. Even had an apprentice fer awhile."
"'Ad?" Sheamus questioned as he stepped away from the anvil, "What 'appened ter 'im?"
"Well, Ah suppose he's still ma apprentice," Gobber admitted as he stepped up to the anvil and began beating on the sword that Sheamus had been hammering, talking while he worked, "Ye see, ma apprentice, Hiccup, he's th' son o' our chieftain. However, nae ane really thought he'd amount tae anythin', an' since th' chief is a friend o' mine, Ah took him on as an apprentice sae 'at he cud hae saeme way of contributing to society."
"What changed?" Sheamus inquired as he watched Gobber work.
"Well, wudnae ye know it, he went ahead an' amounted tae saemethin' jist tae spite us," Gobber explained, earning a laugh from Sheamus, "Now, it looks like he really will follow in his father's footsteps after all."
"Leavin' ye without an apprentice," Sheamus observed.
"Aye, there's th' rub," Gobber agreed with a sigh as he set the forge hammer aside and plunged the still hot blade of the sword into a nearby barrel of water, causing a cloud of steam to kick up, "But Ah'm sure saemeane else will come along."
Pulling the sword out of the barrel, Gobber held it up for Sheamus to see.
"Here," Gobber said as he handed the sword to the young man, "How daes it look?"
Sheamus' eyes widened as he looked over the sword.
"Dis is far better than anythin' Oi've ever made, sir," Sheamus stated as he took the sword, "How did ye do it so quickly?"
"Ye pick up saeme tricks when ye've been at this fer as long as Ah hae," Gobber explained with a shrug, "Also, ye had already done most o' th' work. Ah jist finished it up fer ye."
"All de same, 'tis gran' craftsmanship," Sheamus stated as he placed the sword down.
"Well, thank ye kindly," Gobber stated with grin as he rested his hand and prosthetic on his hips, "Sae, whit dae ye say? Ye want me tae help ye oot, maybe teach ye a few tricks o' yer own?"
"Oi'd like dat, sir," Sheamus answered with a beaming smile.
A/N: So, it's been awhile since I added a chapter for this one, huh? I admit, I ran into a bit of writer's block while working on this chapter but, as you can see, I managed to work my way through it. As always, feedback and critiques are always welcome, so please review! Later!