Here is chapter 8! Now, all I can say is that once you guys finish reading this, you're going to probably ask yourself; 'Oh gods, what is going to happen next after this?' But all I can say is that you'll just have to wait and see soon!
Also, a thanks to everyone who reviewed on the previous chapter! You guys are amazing as usual!
Right, now without anymore delay, let's begin chapter 8!
A large man came in, glancing at Hiccup as well as the young Vikings before he walked in and sat next to the injured young man. His hair blonde as well as his mustache that extended down a bit from his facial area. The Viking had no right foot, and he also lacked a left hand - both of them replaced with prosthetics. A hook and a peg leg.
"So, yer tha new lad, then?"
Hiccup nodded. "Yes. And I'm going to guess you're Gobber."
Gobber gave a nod. "Right ye are, lad! Gobber tha Belch, tha' is. Though just call me Gobber - I don' need people calling my name an' title like I'm some sorta king."
"Right, right." replied Hiccup. "Anyways, it's best that we get down to business. There's much to talk about, especially on why I'm here for two reasons being. But first… I need to show you something."
Gobber arched a brow as Hiccup slowly crawled out of bed, standing on both feet as he started limping his way to the satchel that was hang on the wall - it was to his luck that the large pouch was spared as well.
He then reached his hand in and pulled out a rolled up piece of parchment, wet, but still intact. He unrolled it and spun himself to face Gobber, sticking his arm out to the large Viking for him to see.
Immediately he grabbed the map from the scrawny Viking's grasp with ease and he began inspecting each island he saw one by one. They weren't anything new to him and at first he didn't seem surprised, though he did seem curious. Then, something caught his attention as he fixed his gaze in the bottom right corner of the map, eyeing upon the landmass.
It was Scandinavia.
"Scandinavia…" he slightly gasped. "Then that means you- how did you- ...how did you get here? Whose map is this?"
It was then Hiccup's eyes turned sympathetic. He looked away from Gobber for a moment as the thoughts suddenly came pouring back to him, and then he looked back at the blonde man.
"Your friend - my friend Magnus risked his life to get me to Berk away from the Völsung. He's in the clutches of their Chieftain for helping me escape the torment I had for so many years."
Gobber's face lit up. Hearing that name his memories began calling back to when he saw a boy who was very young, at least twelve or younger. A black haired boy with the natural skill of a blacksmith and the youthful strength of a warrior. He quickly knew who Hiccup was talking about.
"Magnus…" he began. "I only knew 'em when he was a boy, an' he was my friend fer years. His father an' I mailed each other before he died, an' some of those letters were from his son. We had a secret contact deliver them, but-"
He gave a sigh. "Their bastard Chieftain. If I ever see him in my sight, I'm gonna shove my prosthetic 'ook so far down his throat until-"
"Or maybe he just may find us first. Or well, me at least. Which leads me to my second point."
All eyes were set upon Hiccup, especially Snotlout's, each pair showing a questionable expression. "What are you talking about, Hiccup?" the Heir asked.
"Ivar… knows that I escaped." he replied to them. "He was the one responsible for making me a slave, a thrall, and after I escaped his city, and in general his clutches, I knew that he would promise to hunt me down. Who knows if he's already on his way here-"
"Who is this Ivar anyways?" asked Astrid as she interrupted him, though not rudely.
Hiccup looked at her, seeing the interest but concern for Hiccup in her eyes from what she heard so far. If the Chieftain of the Völsung was indeed coming after him, then who knows if he'd fight the Hooligans as well to get his prize.
The scrawny Viking sighed. "Ivar the Boneless." he began. "He is the most ruthless and savage Viking that has ever existed on this earth. He is a cripple as he is unable to walk, but for him to crawl makes him more fearful to others as they easily become intimidated. He is carried on a shield whenever he wants to travels, he rides a war chariot into battle whenever at war. He is the most cruel. The most barbaric and the most dangerous Viking ever."
Astrid nodded. "And what Tribe is he part of?"
"He commands a Clan, it's bigger than a Tribe." answered Hiccup. "Völsung is larger than any Clan you will find as it's numbers are big enough for a large army… though the largest that Ivar has ever called to his command was the Great Heathen Army."
"And how big did they number? A hundred? Two hundred? Maybe even twice that-"
Hiccup raised his hand. "Just to ask… have you ever been attacked?" he asked Astrid.
"Yes." she replied.
"How many do you and your neighboring Tribes number for warriors?"
"We number low in the hundreds; each." she answered. "Though our populaces also each consist of a couple hundred villagers, many who act as only militia."
Hiccup sighed again. "Then you'd stand no chance." he continued. "The Great Heathen Army, where do I even start… All I can say is that it is made up of many various Clans from all around Scandinavia, and they all pledged under Ivar's rule for the conquest of a land called England. And though he failed in the end, his army still had healthy numbers and dealt heavy damage despite the losses on both sides."
"And… how large is this army exactly?" asked Fishlegs, his fingers grasped together.
"Hundreds." Hiccup replied with an emotionless tone. "It is large enough to the point where it nearly numbers in the thousands, though it is also way beyond a thousand. And even if you would rally up all of your allied Tribes to stand against them, you would still stand no chance, even against their skill."
Silence followed afterwards. Everyone's faces shifted elsewhere as they looked down at the ground, at the walls, and even up towards the ceiling in their deep thoughts. They understood that Ivar would hunt down Hiccup, but what if things would escalate to the point where a war would come?
"There has to be a way to prevent a war if he ever considers declaring one." responded Astrid. "We've been in peace for nearly three years ever since the Dragon attacks just… stopped. We can't have another war."
Hiccup looked up at the blonde girl. "The Dragons used to attack you?"
She nodded. "Yeah. It was three years ago during the winter that the biggest Dragon raid ever came at our doorstep. It was all of Berk against a hundred Dragons, and back then the ordinary raids would have at least fifteen to twenty of them."
Hiccup leaned forward in interest. "Go on."
"When they came in their final and biggest wave, something happened unexpectedly." she said, drifting her mind into thought. "You see… just as we were about to charge them - they all gave instantly at that moment. Most of them nearly dropped to the ground while others were floating there in the air as if they were sleeping."
"And then what happened?"
"Well, they dropped all of our livestock and food and just flew off into random directions. One of our warriors even claimed that a Dragon calmly circled them before it licked them, then it just flew off. I think they said it was a small Gronckle? Either way, it's difficult to believe."
"Hmph." chuckled Hiccup. "Well on the topic of Dragons, the Vikings in Scandinavia don't believe in them, even though they're in fairy tale stories. There's the Nadders, Gronckles, Zipplebacks, and Nightmares."
"Hah!" laughed Gobber. "Tha's just four outta tha many Dragons from tha Beuk of Dragons. There's dozens of 'em in it."
Hiccup arched a brow. "Okaaaaay." he replied in a long tone. "Now, back onto the topic of Ivar. If we're to prevent having a war with him then there has to be a way in which he cannot find me… you're not going to kick me off Berk, are you?" he said, turning his head to Snotlout.
The Heir shook his head. "No. Only my fifteen year old foolish self would've done such a decision. When I became Heir, the Chief taught me a lot about becoming an Heir and acting like one. For many years in my life I have done wrong which I have now remade right, and fixed our people that once stood broken. It was one word that he taught me."
"Wisdom. No matter the situation, never forget it."
He spun his gaze to the door, nearly making his way out before he stopped halfway and looked at Gobber and the other young Vikings.
"Make sure Hiccup is kept out of sight. Keep him safe and protected. I have to tell the Chief about our discovery, and I will do my best to convince him not to kick him off. After all, he's been depressed for eighteen years ever since he lost his son and wife, and he's never been the same despite some of the things he taught me..."
"What were their names?" asked Hiccup.
"...His depression caused him to forget, though I'd rather not talk about it. He doesn't like it when I or anyone else brings it up. But regardless, for now remain here." He then proceeded to make his way out the door, leaving Hiccup with Gobber and the others.
…
"So, where did you get the sword?" asked Astrid as she stared at the sheathed blade around Hiccup's waist, noticing the blue fabric around the hilt. She assumed it was likely for a better grip.
"It was Magnus' blade." he said, sipping on a warm bowl of stew. "It's the lightest I've ever carried, and yet the metal is also the strongest I've ever wielded."
"Ooh! How strong exactly? Can it shatter a yak's horns?" asked Tuffnut, joining in as he leaned closer in his chair.
"Well… maybe." replied Hiccup. "But what I do know is that it can shatter another weapon such as a sword."
Ruffnut splurted at the scrawny Viking's claim. "Now that's yak dung!" she said. "I doubt someone scrawny like you can shatter an iron weapon made by the best smithy around these parts!"
"I'm a smithy too you know. Or well at least the assistant of one, in this case it was Magnus."
"Oh really?" she asked.
Hiccup gave a nod. "Yup."
"Well then, if you think you can shatter a weapon then let's make a test and find out. Tuff!" she called out to her brother, and the blonde twin took out his secondary weapon, that being his sword.
"I call the first move!"
The young Viking sighed. "If you insist." he said, sticking his sword out vertically for Tuffnut to strike.
All noises in the room ceased as many pairs of eyes gazed upon Tuffnut and Hiccup. The blonde Viking raised his blade with two hands near his shoulder and prepared to strike at the shiny blade which Hiccup held up. With both hands he gripped the hilt tight and then let out a weird roar as he brought the iron blade down and across against Hiccup's sword.
The blades collided, and nothing happened. Tuffnut arched a brow as he noticed a couple of splinters of metal fall off his sword which were slightly bended. Though he disregarded it and began to pretend that it came from Hiccup's sword.
"Hah! Splinters of metal shattered from your blade!" he mocked in a failing manner. "My sword is the strongest!"
"Hmph, strange." replied Hiccup. "Those splinters are darker than the metal that my blade is made of… but if that is what you wish to think, so be it. Raise your sword."
Tuffnut gave a chuckle, raising his sword vertically like Hiccup did as he prepared the blow from the scrawny Viking, expecting for nothing to happen. What followed next was unexpected however as Hiccup with only his right hand pulled his sword back and struck with a fast blow against Tuffnut's sword, aiming at the upper part of the blade.
A loud clang of metal along with the shattering of iron struck loudly in everyone's ears as nearly half of the blade went flying, striking and impaling itself against the wooden wall behind the blonde Viking.
Tuffnut's eyes remained widened and his jaw dropped, switching his gaze between what remained of his blade and where the other half flew to. He dropped the broken sword to the ground and raised his hands up in submission, willing to accept that Hiccup was right.
"Alright, H. You were right." he said admittingly. "...Gods I need a sword like that."
"I'm impressed." complemented Astrid. "Magnus' weapon must be of equal skill with Gobber's craftsmanship, and I'm sure if he made that iron sword the same way Magnus did with the same metal then maybe they'd both be of equal skill."
"Well, he never specified what kind of metal he used, like I said before." replied Hiccup. "Though who knows, maybe one day we will find out ourselves… or maybe, just maybe, Magnus himself knows the secret."
A sigh followed from the auburn haired Viking as he looked down. "Though I can't imagine what more he is going through right now aside what I've seen…"
…
Ivar sliced his dagger across Magnus' face, and the older Viking let out a growl as he attempted to absorb some of the pain, though it was somewhat surprising that it wasn't a scream.
"Are you done giving me lies, or should I give you more than what I've already given you, prisoner?" the Chieftain asked as he leaned in his chair.
Magnus was bound to a table with his hands shackled in irons. He was tied in a chair and had been tortured for hours with little water and food provided to him, though that was also through means of torturing methods.
"I'll ask you again. Where is your slave Hiccup? Where, is, THIS ARCHIPELAGO!?" he bellowed, stabbing the knife into the wooden table in-between one of Magnus' fingers. The former smithy turned his bruised and cut face towards Ivar, and said three words to him.
"Go... to Helheim…"
Ivar's brows lowered. He inhaled deeply and pulled his right hand back, giving Magnus a rough backhand across his face as his prisoner flinched back in pain, with blood splashing out of his mouth from the impact. Still he refused to falter to the Chieftain of the Völsung.
His face was now a foot away from Magnus.' "I won't ask you again, wretch." he said with a disgruntled voice. "WHERE IS IT-!?"
Suddenly, the doors to the Great Hall slammed wide opened, and in came Olaf, who before going in gave a knock against the wall as Ivar turned to notice him. He gave a nod to the Slavemaster and the large Viking came in swiftly.
Ivar then grabbed the knife and pulled it out from the wooden table, taking a sheet of cloth and wiping the blade off of all the blood that covered it. Magnus' blood.
His face turned to a normal expression. "Any news, Olaf?" he asked the Slavemaster. "I assume that you found the girl which our little traitor-friend Magnus here spoke of?"
Olaf shook his head. "We have not a single trace on finding her. She hides too well in the shadows, and we even checked all of the taverns and most of the huts on Kattegat. But still, that isn't the reason I am here, Chieftain."
"Oh?"
The muscular Viking stepped forward with a map in his hands, and Ivar arched his brow. Usually his warriors didn't rely on maps and mostly they used the sun to pinpoint their position in the day. After all, it rose from the east and it set in the west. Olaf then placed the map on the table in front of Ivar, unrolling it and flattening it out.
"What is it you want to show me?" he asked the Slavemaster. "Another land dispute of some sort or something?"
"No, Chieftain." he replied, shaking his head. "This map here which some of our scouts use was given over to me by the captain of a returning ship whom had two scout longships following."
Ivar rubbed his chin. "A small scouting fleet?" he asked, and Olaf gave a nod.
"I was given information from the captain about something new he discovered out at sea." He pointed his finger towards a newly drawn cloud which was made from charcoal. "The captain said that his fleet was initially made up of six scouting longships that was sent out days ago. That was of course before four of them sank. They were intercepted by…"
Ivar crossed his arms. "Yes?"
"I don't know how I can believe this but- he said fiery winged beasts. He then continued going onto saying how they came out of nowhere in a small pack of about five or six of them, and that they were just like those things from the fairy tales we tell our young."
The young Chieftain gave a small chuckle. "So." he began, tilting his head to Magnus. "The Dragons do indeed exist after all." he said, turning his attention back on the map. "So, the scouting fleet was ambushed by Dragons. And then what happened?"
"Eventually the four longships did sink due to the lack of artillery and archers, all they had was axemen. However in response they were able to take down four of the Dragons before the two remaining flew off. They chased the flying reptiles, until they ran aground."
"Aground!?" gasped Ivar. "Where did they…"
"Apparently they found an island past this fogbank, shrouded by mists and more dense fog. Then the captain said the Dragons flew off again before he and the remaining crews started the voyage back to Kattegat."
An evil glare began growing on Ivar's face. "And you didn't send them back out there… and allowed them to WITHDRAW!?" he screamed, shouting into the Slavemaster's face from his chair before which caused the large Viking to jump back startled.
"Make ready for an invasion fleet!" he ordered clearly to the Slavemaster. "Olaf you and our best Völsung warriors will pave our way, for our scouts have finally found our missing target! And if there are indeed other Tribes out there, then whatever that is beyond this fogbank is now ripe for the taking! The Archipelago exists!"
He then raised the dagger, and before stabbing it into the map he shouted; "Storm the islands, find Hiccup, AND PAINT THIS NEW ARCHIPELAGO RED WITH BLOOD!"