Chapter Six – War of The Kraken: Battle Lines

Part One – Lord Bane

Morning, four days before Council of Chiefs, the Kraken Lords' Command Ship,

The remaining Kraken Lords, and their men, were about halfway through eating breakfast when the messenger arrived. Noticeably pale, and half- stumbling as he ran; he hurried down the length of the hall, coming to a stop before the High Table. He took several long, deep breaths, than rasped; "Message from … Lord Blackthorn: My Lords; the … the hostages he took… they're … they're gone!"

"What?" the High- Lord asked, sharply, as all other conversation in the hall fell silent. "That is not possible!"

"The night they … arrived," the man continued. "Just after nightfall; there was a noise, near the edge of their camp; while Blackthorn's men investigated, they fled into the trees… Lord Blackthorn says he'd sent his second ship to hold the base of their peninsula, on the way down, as a precaution. He writes that he's locked the area down, and his men are searching the forests as we speak; He assures us that they won't be able to hide for long."

"No. They. Won't." the High- Lord spat. Turning to the right, he called "Lord Bane!"

The silence in the hall seemed to grow even deeper; as the Lord seated to the far- right of the table rose to his feet, and moved to stand before the High Lord. In a soft, smooth voice, that carried only the slightest trace of the other Lords' accent, he said, "My Lord."
Tall, fit, with dark hair framing his narrow face, Lord Bane was the grandson of the Lord who had devised 'The Method' that had won the Kraken Council their many victories. And, like his grandfather before him, he was a strategist who's equal they had yet to encounter among those now living. At the age of twenty- seven, he was also the youngest member of The Kraken's Council.

"Take ten ships, and as many of our men as you feel you need," The High- Lord ordered. "Join Lord Blackthorn in his search: Remain there until you've either retrieved the hostages, who are to be placed in your custody, if found; or until you must leave to retrieve our report. Examine the report during your return trip; and have your evaluation ready, on arrival."

Lord Bane bowed, "I shall depart within the hour, My Lord." The High- Lord nodded, a clear dismissal; Lord Bane stood, turned, and swept out of the hall.
Once he had left, several of the serving girls exchanged nervous looks: 'The "Dragon Master" might have defeated Drago; but could he, possibly, be a match for Lord Bane?'

Five days later;

When Lord Bane reentered the hall, it was immediately clear from his expression that all was not well. He approached the High Table, bowed, and said "My Lord."

The High- Lord acknowledged him with a nod; "What do you have to report? Have you retrieved the hostages?"

"I saw no sign of them," Lord Bane answered, his brow creasing in annoyance. "It did not help that Blackthorn's men had blundered down every path they could find... They had to pursue, of course; but in doing so, they inadvertently erased all trace of our quarry's passage."

"I see. I will be sure to discuss the matter with Lord Blackthorn, on his return." The High- Lord said, coolly. "For now, though, have you retrieved our informant's report?"

"I have, My Lord." As Lord Bane spoke, he produced a scroll of parchment from an inside pocket of his embroidered robes. "According to the one- time chief, Thommen; the Northerners were, as you predicted, caught off guard by our swift arrival. Each of their chiefs intends to deploy a force to one of twelve locations; forming a line eight miles south of the Shivering Shores, and extending to either direction; with the intent to reinforce and solidify the line, as more ships become available. At first, it sounds normal enough; but a 'dotted' line is … unusual, for defensive purposes, and the sole reference made to the 'Dragon Master' is his stating that he requires a few days to mobilize his dragons to deploy." Lord Bane cleared his throat. "It is a brief window; and, unless we move quickly, it will close before we can take advantage of it." His lips curled in a smile, "I suggest we send a detachment of our … 'supplementary forces' to engage each of their forward positions; and that we implement a mandatory two- day check- in, instead of the usual four… with the new factor of facing dragons to consider, I think it a prudent measure."

"Very well," the High- Lord nodded. "And as to the numbers; for both our first wave, and theirs?"

"I've made some notes, on the margins of the scroll, itself," Lord Bane said, offered the scroll to the High- Lord, as he spoke.

The High- Lord took the scroll, and examined it. After a minute, he nodded, "That should be sufficient." As he spoke, he motioned for the other Kraken Lords to gather around: for one last council of war, before they put their plan into action.

As the sound of conversation gradually returned to the hall, one of the serving girls turned to the others. In the lowest possible whisper, she asked, "This can't be it: There must be more to the Northerners' plan…"

Another girl glanced around, nervously, than whispered, "You may be right; did you see the look on Lord Bane's face, when he came in? Something's bothering him; something he can't figure out!"
Nobody spoke, after her; not wanting to risk attracting the attention of anyone else in the hall, but she a point… And the rest of them knew it.
Hopefully, bad news for the Kraken Lords would lead to good news for them.

Part Two – Battle Begins

Three days after the Council of Chiefs;

Tyrek and his son, Tyrone, stood near the front of their ship; which, in turn, stood at the head of their fleet. Their destination: eight miles south of the Shivering Shores; their home. They arrived at the location Hiccup had indicated around midafternoon. When they did, they found the ocean ahead of them clear of ships, for now, at least.

This gave Tyrone a moment to think; and the first thing that came to mind was, or course, the Council of Chiefs; an event that, he knew, he would never forget. 'I mean... Gods: Hiccup has these 'kraken- lords' tripping over themselves, before they've even drawn their swords!' This, unfortunately, made him think of Hiccup's suspicion of there being a Kraken- Strategist who was his equal…

Tyrone's father moved forward to join him, and Tyrek seemed able to read his son's expression just fine; "I was just thinking the same thing, son: Hiccup and his plan on one hand; and the danger of someone like him, only an enemy, on the other … The first you want to believe…"

"…And the second makes you pray he's wrong," Tyrone finished. "Still… he seemed pretty sure that it wouldn't matter; all that about his plan 'being hidden behind what they want, and expect, to see'…" He shook his head, and managed a smile, "I've got to admit: I didn't think Hiccup had it in him; you know, in the best way I can say that!"

Tyrek shrugged, absentmindedly. "I don't think any of us did… And what he said about that 'Red Death'," He shook his head. "Three hundred years of war, all because one dragon bullied the rest into attacking us to bring her food…"

Tyrone nodded, "At least there's a solution now; we can't change what's done, but the dragons are giving us a chance to make it right… that's something." He was silent for a moment, "I've been thinking about what Hiccup said, during the meeting, and something jumped out at me; about the conversation he says he had with Thor…"

Tyrek considered his son, curiously, "Really… And what would that be?"

Tyrone looked around, to make sure no one was nearby, than lowered his voice; "He told us that Thor had removed parts of the conversation from his memory because 'the time was not right'…"

Tyrek frowned, but before he could ask, Tyrone continued, "''Was', dad; Hiccup referred to the conversation in the past- tense!" Tyrone looked around again. "I think Hiccup has already regained the memories, but that they must relate to something he either can't, or doesn't want to, make public, yet."

Tyrek considered his son for a moment, his expression thoughtful; "Where are you going with this?"

Tyrone took a moment to organize his thoughts, than continued, "If he has recovered his memories, but doesn't want to make them public; he'll need a few other chiefs to support his holding the information back … If we asked about it, before the next Council session, and swore to keep the secret and back the need for secrecy…" He shrugged, "Better relations with the other tribes are always a good thing to strive for, but Berks' in a particularly good position now; and, Hiccup's aiming for the sky – literally! By the time he's done…" Tyrone let the sentence drift off, and shrugged again.

Tyrek considered his son for a moment, than nodded, "You ask him the first chance you get, the next time we see him; and you can tell him that, if he needs secrecy, but is willing to tell us, we'll keep the secret and give him the support he'd need."
One of their men gave a shout: boats approaching from the south! Tyrek turned to consider the boats, and shouted orders to the men nearest him.
Before he moved off, he turned back to Tyrone, "Berks' making their mark on history; time we make ours!"

Two hours later;

The moment the enemy ships were within range, their catapults went into action: hurling boulders in their direction! Several were clearly going to go wide, but one was bearing down at the lead boat!

Tyrek had just enough time to below "Take cove–" But before he could finish the order, a Gronkle dropped out of the sky, and swallowed the boulder whole! Tyrek's jaw hung open, as though trying to process what just happened.

By the time he'd closed it, there were a dozen Gronkles snapping any boulders that endangered the Shivering Shores ships right out of the sky!

'Are those people crazy?' One Gronkle asked, 'That was high- quality granite!'

'I know!' rumbled a second, as it crunched away on another boulder. 'It's almost- criminal; throwing this stuff away!'

'Be fair,' called a Deadly- Nadder, 'humans don't eat rocks; most of us don't, for that matter!' As he spoke, the dragon shot over the heads of the Vikings below; launching spikes at the catapults on the nearest enemy ship.

'True,' the Gronkle admitted, 'but have you ever heard of a Gronkle with an iron deficiency? … I think not!'

Tyrone turned to his father, grinning widely, "I think life in the Archipelagos is about to get a lot more interesting!"

"That's an understatement!" a voice called down from above. As they looked up, another Gronkle, this one with a Rider, was coming in for a landing.

"It's… Fishlegs, isn't it?" Tyrone asked, moving forward.

Yes, sir," Fishlegs said, nodding. "Meatlug, here, just wanted to see what kind of boulders these 'Krakens' were throwing; besides, they're an excellent source of…"

"Iron?" Several people said at once.

Fishlegs blinked, "Well, yes; iron… One of the other Gronkles already told you, didn't they?" He turned to Meatlug, "Go on, girl: eat up; you'll need your strength!"

'My strength, sure,' Meatlug agreed. 'But not a buffet… should've known this would happen, though: right after I'd lost that extra five pounds!' Still, she started to rise into the air. 'Let me know when I reach fifteen, ok; that's my limit for this afternoon.'

About a minute after Meatlug had risen back into the sky, a Typhoomerang appeared, coming in to hover a few feet above, and away from the leading ship. On its back, what must have been close to two- dozen dozing Terrible- Terrors lay, snoring lightly.

Fishlegs didn't look surprised, "Oh, good: the Terrible- Terrors are here!" He turned to the others, "That's actually the other reason we've come: these Terrible- Terrors are trained to deliver messages back to Berk. We'd found out, years ago, that Terrible- Terrors are very territorial: no matter where they end up, they'll always find their way back home!"
From there, Fishlegs gave them an introductory course in how to send messages via Terrible- Terror.
The variation: he told them to put the message into the Terrible- Terror's scroll- case, and let the dragon pick the case up. As Fishlegs said, "They can startle easily, if they're in a place with people they don't know… just give them a little extra space, until they get used to you." - After he'd finished his explanation, Fishlegs coaxed six of the Terrible- Terrors off of the Typhoomerang. The dragons promptly found a place they liked, curled up, and appeared to doze off.

'Fifteen boulders' after she'd risen into the air, Meatlug settled back onto the deck of their ship. By now, the rest of the Shivering Shores' fleet had formed ranks, their chiefs' ship at the front. There were fifty- eight, in total; sixty- three more ships were patrolling the waters between their position, and home.

All along the Northerners' lines, the dragon strike- teams were moving into position; Gronkles snacked on the enemy's' catapult projectiles, while Deadly- Nadders casually shot spikes; snapping through lines, scattering formations with deliberate near- misses, and so on. And, all along the lines, human warriors, on both sides, watched in a combination of awe and disbelief.
And, in the case of the 'enemies', a tangible sense of unease; at least, at first…

Part Three – On The Other Side

When the dragons had first appeared over the Northerners' ships, men of the subjugated forces of the Kraken Lords thought that what little 'luck' they might have had in life had deserted them.

Then, on a few of the boats, opposing the Shivering Shores' fleet, another thought was voiced. One that caught on and, with no direct Kraken- oversight, was carried from ship to ship; had any of the Kraken Lords been present, the 'thought' would have circulated far more slowly, and not nearly as openly.

Finally, it reached the man at the front of the leading boat, the chief of their tribe. He'd been standing there, envying the Northerners their brief, final days of freedom, when his cousin joined him at the prow. "Sir, have you heard what the men are saying?"

The 'chief' snorted, "Does it really matter what they're saying?"

"Sir; you've heard about the Chief of Berk, the Northern Dragon- Master, just as we all have…" His cousin persisted, gesturing at the dragons before them, as he spoke, "The talk has been going up and down the line of ships: the dragons haven't attacked… If Berk was ready to mobilize, and it looks like they may be, why are we still alive?"

The 'chief' sighed, "Just say whatever you're saying, blast it…"

"I'm saying," his cousin said, "What if He's figured it out? If someone on one of the boats we were told to attack, two weeks ago, noticed that many bore different tribal crests, and they passed the information along, the Chief of Berk might've pieced it together; that the kraken- banner was a conqueror's' banner!" He paused for a moment, hesitantly, "What if he's…"

The chief eyes bulged, and he finished his cousin's train of thought, "What if he's trying to use our positions to locate the Kraken Lords' command boat, somehow, or…" He pushed the thought aside; the command boat, maybe; the 'other boats' were too much to hope for.
He thought about it for a moment, and than nodded, "We're not due to check- in for two days; but, now I think on it, those thrice-blasted-Krakens probably would want to know about dragons being in the first wave … and sooner, rather than later."

His cousin caught the implications, and managed a small, knowing smile, "I'll write up a new report, and bring it to you for your seal." He turned, and hurried away.
The chief turned back, to consider the fleet before them. For the first time in years, he almost felt a flicker of hope; 'I've never heard of you until a few weeks ago, Dragon Master, but by The Gods; I hope you're as clever as they all think you might be… for the sake of my daughters, I hope you are.'

To be continued…