Chapter Sixteen – War of The Kraken: Bane of the Kraken Lords

Part One – The Captive Lords

That morning; in Berks' jail,

It had been years since the jail, on Berk, had held more than a few 'tenants' at a time; even then, it was rarely for more than a few days. Now twenty- five Kraken- warriors filled three of the cells; and 'lord' Malik sat, huddled, in a fourth.
They'd been there a full day, now; but, aside from the time Malik had been summoned to the Great Hall, and the times someone brought food and water; they'd been left to themselves.
The warriors' spoke to one another, in low voices. Occasionally glancing, uneasily, at Lord Malik: who hadn't said a word, since returning to his cell. More troubling, still, was the wild, hunted look in his eyes.

"It's not natural," one man muttered. "Dragons 'talking'; the way they answered when he called them." He shook his head.

One of his cellmates grunted, "The way he fought, too; no human should be able to move that fast." The speaker glanced in Lord Malik's direction, and lowered his voice. "Then there's Lord Malik, and Lord Emric. What could–"

A third man glared at them, and snorted. "Bah; the boy got lucky, that's all… You'll see: Lord Bane will–"

Before the third man could finish his sentence, a wailing shriek reached their ears: the sound of approaching Night- Furies. A moment later, came the sound of approaching footsteps, and a familiar voice.
"Two more, eh?" The smith, Gobber, chuckled. "Right, then: in you go!" As he spoke, the outer- door opened, and several people entered. The first two wore elaborately embroidered robes, one of them was using a thick plank of wood to keep his weight off his right foot; the third was Gobber, and two more men from Berk behind him.

A moment later, one of the warriors, in the cell nearest the door, swore. "It… It can't be! Lord … Lord Bane!"

Those words had an immediate effect. In the span of a few seconds, the Kraken- warriors were on their feet: watching, in disbelief, as Lords Bane and Malcolm were marched past their cells. Gobber unlocked and opened the door to Malik's cell, motioned them inside; then closed and locked it behind them.

Lord Bane glared at the smith, through the bars. "Don't think we're done … I may have underestimated your 'dragon- master', but this war is far from over!"

Gobber chuckled. "It's a lot closer to 'over' than you think!" He nodded to Malik, "Ask him; he knows it." The smith gave the door to the cell a yank, to ensure that the lock was in place; then he, and those with him, turned and left.

When the door closed, behind them, Malik lifted his head. "Lord Bane, Lord Malcolm." His voice was hollow, flat; the voice of one who knew he was doomed.

"What was that supposed to mean?" Lord Bane demanded, rounding on Malik, and gesturing after Gobber.

"We have severely underestimated Hiccup: he's more powerful than Drago ever was, and… and he knows where the hostage- ships are; he received his last three reference- points while I was in the great- hall." Malik said, flatly. "His armor is made of Night- Fury scales–"

"We already know that." Bane nodded to Malcolm, "Anything else?"

Malik shot Bane an irritated look, and continued. "The armor, the sword they're … they're 'alive'. The Night- Furies who 'gave their scales': they're still alive, somehow, inside the metal! The fire from his sword, the blade returning to his hand: they did that! " He shook his head, and took a deep breath. "I'm getting ahead of myself."
He took a deep breath; then, for the next ten minutes; he described the events that had transpired, while he was in the Great Hall of Berk.

Bane swore, "Hiccup's hijacked our conquest- method: he's been using our own system against us, right from the beginning." His foot throbbed, and he grimaced.

"Shadow Night- Furies came out of his armor?" Malcolm's voice was hoarse, and barely more than a whisper. – The silence that followed went unbroken, for a long time.

Two hours after noon; in the Great Hall,

Before the echoes of the dragons' roars, and humans' bellows, had faded to silence; twelve un-partnered dragons unfurled their wings, and through the doors, rising into the sky. The humans knew, without being told; that they were going to carry word of The Alpha's Declaration of War, to the Wild Dragons of the Archipelagos.

Several minutes passed in silence, then Chief Gregor cleared his throat. "Just how many dragons are we talking about, here?"

'The past few centuries have taken a heavy toll on our kind,' Toothless began. 'Due, in part, to "encounters" with humans; but even more so to The Devourer: the Red- Death who forced so many of our kind to hunt for her … Between the two, we've lost thousands, these past few centuries.' He paused for a moment, thinking. 'Our numbers have grown, somewhat, since we first made peace; but many now care for hatchlings, and some must remain behind, to defend their roosts. I would expect between seven and nine hundred, plus a hundred and fifty of my kin.'

Before anyone could respond to this, the sound of approaching Night- Furies reached their ears. A moment later, two of the black dragons shot through the doors, and into the hall. The dragon in the lead was carrying a human, clad in elaborately embroidered robes. As with 'lords' Bane and Malcolm, the Night- Fury had decided to carry him upside down.
The dragon dropped the figure in a heap; about twenty feet from the table where the chiefs were gathered, and both dragons set down, a short distance away.

A satisfied smile appeared on Hiccup's face, "'Lord' Blackthorn, I presume."

"Who wants to know?" A gruff, heavily accented voice demanded, as the figure struggled to disentangle his robes, and rise to his feet. – The briefest glance at the expressions on the faces of Chief Thommen, Leanne, and Lara was all the confirmation anyone needed: this was 'lord' Blackthorn.
Blackthorn rose to his feet and looked around. His face was rugged; his nose looked as though it had been broken several times, and healed badly both times. He was several inches shorter than Chief Thommen: heavyset, and muscular. His wiry black beard covered the lower half of his face; and he had a cold, unsettling look in his eyes.
Those eyes quickly zeroed in on Hiccup, and he sneered. "Huh; the so-called 'Dragon- Master', I assume ... Drago must've laughed himself to death."

Hiccup raised an eyebrow; and, in his usual calm voice, said, "From his expression, I'm pretty sure Drago died wetting himself; dragons can be quite intimidating, if they want to be. And, given that you're standing in-front of, and between, two Night- Furies, you might want to mind your manners – just a thought."
Several people laughed, and more joined in: when Blackthorn turned, saw the Night- Furies; tried to take a few hurried steps away from them, tripped on his robes, and went down.
"I think that's as close to 'greetings' as we're going to get; but perhaps a few quick introductions." Gesturing several places to his right, Hiccup continued in a noticeably cooler tone. "I understand you've already … 'met' Chief Thommen, and his family; this will be a less- than- pleasant reunion, for you."

"'Less- than- pleasant'; that's one way to put it." Chief Thommen said. As he spoke, he put an arm around Leanne, and a hand on Lara's shoulder. When Blackthorn's eyes landed on them, his face turned the color of snow. "Hello, 'my lord'," Thommen continued, his words as cold as the air off of a glacier. "Imagine meeting you here."

"And if you'd turn around, 'lord' Blackthorn," Hiccup said, gesturing toward the opposite end on the hall. "You may spot a few more familiar faces."
As he spoke, there was a small flurry of activity, at the foot of the hall: as a number of former- hostages; including Arya and Alana; moved to the front of the group.
When Blackthorn turned, and began to recognize them; his face went from white, to an unhealthy shade of gray. They noticed the change, almost immediately; and, though their expressions remained stony, there was a noticeable change in their posture and bearing. They were finally able to face their 'monster'. And this time, he was afraid of them; of their being here, and what it meant.

Blackthorn turned to face the Northern Chiefs, "How… how have you done this?"

Hiccup raised an eyebrow, and gestured around the table. "We've done quite a lot, actually. So: you're going to have to be a little more specific." More chuckles. "Gobber, Eret, and… Sven: I think it's time for the other kraken- lords we've captured to join us ... If you would."
The three men, and dragons, gave brief nods of acknowledgment, and promptly left the hall.

"Other kraken- lords?" Blackthorn asked, glowering at Hiccup. "What game are you playing, boy? The rest of Our Council is far beyond your reach!"

"A lot has happened since your 'visit' to our village, Blackthorn," Thommen said, his voice deceptively calm. He turned first to Chief Tyrek, who had called for The Council to convene; then Hiccup, who was the last to speak.
Both nodded, formally giving Chief Thommen 'the floor'. Thommen turned to Blackthorn, and started to talk.

Ten minutes later,

Just as Chief Thommen was concluding his account, the sound of distant footsteps; growing steadily louder; reached their ears. When he saw the captive's faces, 'lord' Blackthorn's eyes bulged; he tried to speak, but no words came out.

"Moving from left to right, we have 'lords': Malik, Malcolm, and…" Hiccup frowned, though his eyes glinted. "Don't tell me, I know this: 'lord'… Bran."

"Brane!" Lord Bane corrected, irritably; then he realized his mistake, and backpedaled. "Blaine!" His eyes bulged, "Blame!"

Hiccup placed a hand to his forehead, making a sound part sigh, part groan. He turned to 'lords' Blackthorn, Malcolm, and Malik. "Could one of you please tell me this is some kind of … identity- crisis, and not multiple- personality disorder?"
The other three kraken- lords spun to face him. "Wha–?" Malcolm managed; "Huh?" said Blackthorn. Malik blinked, several times, but said nothing. For a long moment, no one spoke. Finally Hiccup sighed, "Well… That's not very reassuring." He nodded towards Bane, "He's supposed to be the smart one."

For a full ten seconds, nobody moved or spoke. Blackthorn, Malcolm, and Malik; who'd been staring at 'lord' Bane, as though he'd grown a second head; turned to gape, uncomprehendingly, at Hiccup. Bane, meanwhile, stood stalk- still; one foot partially raised, his crutch under one arm; blinking as though someone had just wacked him over the head with a wooden shield. – Then everyone, except the four kraken- lords, burst out laughing.

A few minutes later,

It took the better part of five minutes for the crowd to recover, and the great- hall to again grow quiet. There was still the occasional bout of chuckles; and a general sense that the hall could dissolve into hysterics at any moment; but they were able to continue.
The kraken- lords long since recovered from their shock: Malcolm and Malik backed down; Bane was visibly uneasy, but Blackthorn was glaring at Hiccup.

Hiccup never flinched; he appeared amused, rather then unsettled. The spectators, and other chiefs, quickly became aware of the silent standoff. This, more than anything, was what pulled everyone back to the present.

Finally, Blackthorn growled; "You've got a lot of nerve, for a 'hiccup'."

"If you're going to insult me, Blackthorn, could you at least use a word I haven't heard every day of my life." Hiccup said, in an exasperated voice. "It is my name, too, remember; so try not to wear it out." He turned to the other chiefs; "It's a sad day for witty- banter when the lack of effort is more offensive than the insult." Several people chuckled; others hurried to cover amused grins.

"Oh-ho-ho, very clever: you think you've got it all figured out, don't you?" Blackthorn growled. He turned to glare at Chief Thommen, "If you've brought me here to judge me, forget it: I claim the right of trial by combat, and," he turned to Hiccup, "the right to choose my opponent."
A long minute of silence followed this. Several chiefs exchanged glances: as did Astrid, her parents, and Valka. Chief Thommen was glaring at Blackthorn, red- faced and seemingly unable to find words.

"You do have that right," Hiccup admitted, breaking the silence. "But such fights can end in one of three ways: a combatant yields; is clearly defeated, or is killed. The third 'option' is… reserved, of course." He turned; nodding to Chief Thommen, who nodded back. He turned back to Blackthorn. "I think I can guess your choice of opponent; but before you say it, ask your colleagues about their attack on Berk. It might make you… reconsider."

Blackthorn turned to Bane. Bane shifted, uneasily; his eyes fixed on the floor. "His flight- suit has a built- in glider: he used it to get from the nearest cliff to my boat; I had fifteen warriors. Took him four, five minutes; fourteen disarmed and thrown overboard, one dead." He glanced at Blackthorn, "Never seen the like of it; shouldn't have been possible."
Another long silence followed Bane's words; a number of people glanced at Hiccup, and a low murmur of conversation flowed down the length of the hall.

"The connection that opened between Toothless and myself, the day we met, did more than allow an exchange of knowledge," Hiccup explained, after the mutters had faded to silence. "I've grown stronger, faster, more agile. Enhanced senses: sight, smell, and hearing." He turned to Blackthorn; "I am more than I appear; it's your call, though."

"I see what this is." Blackthorn shot Bane a disgusted look; and, to the Northern Chiefs; said, "Get me a sword, and draw your blade, 'dragon- master': I'm calling your bluff."

"Have it your way, Blackthorn." Hiccup stood; slid his Night- Fury helmet onto his head, pulled down the faceplate. With slow, measured footsteps, he began to make his way around the council- table.

Blackthorn's eyes narrowed, "Fully armored? Hardly a fair fight."

"It won't matter," Hiccup's voice reverberated from beneath his helm. "You'll never land a blow … Five years ago, a short time after Toothless and I first met; I had a vision. During which I received formal- orders to begin forging a peace, between humans and dragons."

For a long moment, nobody spoke. Then Blackthorn snorted, "A likely story… 'Formal orders' from who, if I may ask?"

Hiccup lifted the faceplate of his helm; met Blackthorn's gaze, and in his usual calm, level voice; said, "The Prince of Asgard; Thor, himself."
For a long moment, nobody spoke. Hiccup could see shock on the faces of the four captive- lords; and on the faces of Berks' newly- arrived guests.
"But we stray from the matter at hand," Hiccup continued. "You have evoked your right for trial- by- combat, and chosen me as your opponent. As with what I said, a moment ago, I tell you this so you will understand what you are up against ... This is your last chance to back down: once armed, there's no turning back."

Blackthorn gritted his teeth, then forced a smile. "This is more elaborate than your other tricks, boy; but I'm still not falling for it … Give. Me. A. Sword."

Hiccup sighed, and lowered the visor of his helm. He turned to Gobber, "Arm him."

Gobber nodded, and moved to a barrel that stood by one wall; he returned, a moment later, holding a sword. The smith placed the sword on the floor; and slid it across to Blackthorn.

Blackthorn picked it up, and chuckled. "Big mistake, boy: when we fight, it's anything goes!"

"'Anything goes'; Blackthorn… really?" Hiccup drew 'Fury' and chuckled, "Are you trying to make this easier?"

Blackthorn gritted his teeth, and lunged at Hiccup, roaring a battle- cry; Hiccup blocked the strike without any apparent effort. For a long moment, the two blades remained locked: Blackthorn trying to use his extra weight to bear Hiccup down, but to no avail.
Hiccup stepped to one side, allowing his and Blackthorn's to separate. Then he launched a series of three quick slashes: Blackthorn parried the first two; the third came close enough that Blackthorn instinctively ducked, slightly, to evade it.
His scowl deepening, Blackthorn slashed at Hiccup; he parried, and took a step back. Next came a downward cut at Hiccup's legs. Again, Hiccup blocked, moving to the right.
Blackthorn went left, his sword speeding toward Hiccup's upper back: Hiccup spun 'Fury's hilt, in his hand, securing a reverse grip on the hilt. Grasping the hilt with his free hand, he raised the sword over his head, the blade pointing down, and blocked.
Hiccup turned to face Blackthorn again, adjusting his grip on 'Fury's hilt, as he moved. The two blades came together again, locked between the two combatants.

Every eye in the hall was on them: No one, not even the villagers of Berk, had seen Hiccup fight up close before. Ok: in the practice- arena, sure; but nothing like this.
Astrid remembered the times she's seen him fight, from a distance: She knew he was good; she didn't know he was this good.

After they'd been fighting for several minutes, Hiccup spoke, his voice reverberating from the faceplate of his helmet. "Is this really the best you can do?"

Blackthorn took several deep breaths, "I'm quite good enough to beat you, boy."

Hiccup considered 'lord' Blackthorn for a moment, than shook his head. "No… I think not." With little more than a flick the wrist: he forced Blackthorn's blade back, and struck again. Blackthorn staggered back, a few steps, but managed to parry.
Then Hiccup's free hand shot out, catching Blackthorn in the chest. The force of the blow sent the kraken- lord stumbled back; he went to one knee, using his free hand for balance.
"Yield," Hiccup told him, approaching at a leisurely pace. "You can't fight forever: already, you tire; it won't be long, now."

Blackthorn stood, glaring at Hiccup with pure hatred. He was panting heavily, "A Kraken- Lord … Never. ... Surrenders! I might not be … able to fight forever … but neither can you!"

Hiccup shrugged, and raised his black- sword to the ready- position, "Then we continue."

Blackthorn rose to his feet, and lunged. Hiccup blocked his next strike; and evaded the next by leaning so far back; you'd have thought for sure he'd fall. Instead: Hiccup stepped back with his right foot; shifted into a rapid half- rotation; regaining his footing, and launching into his next attack: a jab that Blackthorn only- just managed to deflect.
Hiccup's next strike hit just under the hilt of Blackthorn's sword; the force of which sent Blackthorn's sword spinning into the air. Hiccup caught the hilt in his free hand; leapt up, and forward: landing two 'light' kicks on the upper part of Blackthorn's chest.
'Lord' Blackthorn fell backward: unharmed, but momentarily stunned. Hiccup stood over him; he raised the two swords, crossed them in midair; than lowered them, until they hovered a few inches away from Blackthorn's throat.

"You are beaten." Hiccup stepped back; sheathed 'Fury', and removed his helmet. He raised an eyebrow, "I told you: You wouldn't land a blow."
He turned, and walked back to his place at the table. He paused, on the way, to return the spare blade to Gobber, "Sorry about the nicks; swords never seem to last, against 'Fury'."

Gobber blinked, and chuckled. "Sorry… for what? I'm pretty sure this sword just became a collectors' item! Gods know: it'll last a lot longer than the kraken- lords!"

Dozens of small conversations began at once, down the entire length of the hall. Hiccup turned to the bench where Astrid and Valka sat, with Astrid's parents.
Astrid grinned, shook her head, and blew Hiccup a kiss. Hiccup grinned back; reached out with one hand, as though to grab something out of the air; then he clapped the hand over his heart. Astrid's face reddened, and her smile widened.
On Valka's, and Astrid's parents' faces, Hiccup saw awe, pride, and approval.

Part Two – The Coming Storm

Once Hiccup returned to the table, he and the other chiefs had a brief conversation, amongst themselves. Their 'business' with the kraken- lords concluded, for now; orders were given for the captives to be escorted back to their cells.

Perhaps a minute after they left, Snotlout entered the great- hall; Hookfang followed him, closely. And, close behind Hookfang, came Ruff, Tuff, and their Zippleback. Snotlout was scowling; the others seemed to be struggling not to laugh.
Snotlout jabbed a finger behind them; and said, "Blah-slog-crang-frap-scroodle."

Hiccup sighed, "The Skrill's here, isn't he?"

"Yep." Ruffnut said, nodding.

"He keeps growling; roaring, and gesturing behind him… you know, with his head," Tuffnut shrugged. "You might want to talk to him: he hasn't blasted lightning at anything, though… Well; except for Snotlout."

"Blah. Slog. Crang. Frap. Scroodle." Snotlout said, rounding on Tuffnut: gesturing from himself to Hiccup, and then pointing towards the door.

Tuff rolled his eyes, "And Snotlout wants to know if he can take revenge on the Skrill for… you know: the lightning- thing."
As he spoke, the Skrill stuck its head into the hall; sparks crackling across his scales.

"Grr-vree-krraak-kra-kra; Vree-vree-kra-rak-kree." Hiccup called, to the Skrill.

The Skrill blinked, glanced back, at the main part of its body. A moment later, the sparks vanished into the Skrill, and the dragon entered the hall.
Hiccup met him, near the middle of the room. The Skrill bowed his head, slightly; Hiccup mirrored the gesture, and asked what the others in the hall took to be a question. The Skrill replied, speaking several sentences in the language of dragons.

Hiccup nodded; and looked around, "This is… another long story; we're really going to need to find a time to go over this stuff. But, first things first: He says there's a large fleet of ships moving north, from beyond our southern boarder. Current speed; they'll rendezvous with the rest of the kraken- ships the day after tomorrow, early-to-mid afternoon." He nodded to the Skrill, "He says he can slow them down, though; they've already dropped speed because of his first 'appearance'. Apparently there's a 'grade- A' storm keeping pace with their fleet; and, since Skrills draw their power from lightning…"

"It's a good time to have a Skrill as a friend," summarized Chief Tyrek.

Hiccup nodded, "Once they dropped speed; he came straight here, to let us know. The storm he's following will start moving east, a few miles south of the Archipelagos, so whatever he's going to do needs to be soon." He turned to the Skrill, and trilled several lines in the language of dragons; the Skrill nodded, and seemed to smile.
Hiccup and the Skrill repeated the ritual they'd performed, a few moments before; then the Skrill turned, loped out of the hall, and shot into the sky.

Meanwhile; The Kraken- Lords' Command Ship,

Morale, in the Kraken- Lords' hall was, to put it mildly, 'low'. Aside from the low murmur of conversation, and almost- furtive movements and gestures, nothing was happening.
Given the most recent 'activity', most of their warriors seem to completely fine with that.

Then the messenger arrived. "My… My Lords; we received a report from Lord Blackthorn's camp."

High- Lord Malchior grunted, irritably. "What's Blackthorn saying now?"

"My Lord: it isn't from Lord Blackthorn… It's from one of his men," the messenger replied. "He writes that two Night- Furies showed up at their camp, about midmorning; they sunk all eleven of the ships stationed there, and… and they've carried off Lord Blackthorn!"

"So Blackthorn's gone and gotten himself captured." Malchior muttered. He considered this for a moment, and then shrugged. "Anything else?"

The man nodded, "We should arrive at the hostage- ships in two hours; most of the boats from the first wave should be there, by now; the rest by this evening." He cleared his throat, "We've also had word from Commander Bridgman: The armada has been delayed; they will arrive in the early- afternoon, the day after tomorrow."

Lord Ammon frowned, "Delayed? What happened?"

The man nodded, hesitantly. "There was a storm, my lord; they've had to slow their pace. Also: a Skrill, who seems to be following the storm, has attacked some of the boats. My lords: the Skrill has since flown ahead of the storm; maybe to report to the Dragon- Master."

Lord Melbourne swore, "A Skrill? Is there anything else the Gods would like to–?"

"Don't ask," Lord Tarbek interrupted. "Don't even ask. We've got more than enough problems as it is."

"And?" High- Lord Malchior asked; his attention fixed on the messenger.

"That's everything, My Lord," the messenger replied. Malchior waved a hand: a clear dismissal; the man bowed, turned, and left the hall.

A half- mile from the hostage- ships,

High- Lord Malchior stood at the prow of the Kraken- Lords' Command Ship; surveying the scene before them. Just behind him stood Lords Roland; Ralden; Tarbek; Emric, who was still trembling; Locke; Darrin; Ammon; and Melbourne.
The hostage ships floated about half a mile ahead of them; there was no trace of the ships that had been sent to defend them.

Lord Malchior turned to the other lords. "Lord Locke, and Lord Tarbek; each of you take one boat, and twenty men. Search the hostage- ships, and report back; an hour, no more."
Both lords exchanged uneasy looks, but bowed, and left to make their preparations.

A short time later,

"The hostages are gone, My Lord." Lord Locke; whose men had searched the leftmost ship; informed High- Lord Malchior. "We found the crew on the lowest level, locked in the cells. No sign of the keys, so I left some men on-board to pry the cells open; it'll take some time, though. The men say they were caught off guard and paralyzed by a pack of between twelve and twenty Speed- Stingers: no idea where they came from, or how they got here. The men who'd been on deck said that, shortly after they were paralyzed; four dragons with riders landed on the decks of each boat. They riders searched the ship, than began dragging them down to the cells. The Speed- Stingers had vanished, by then; but we found the supply room and galley ransacked: every scrap of food is also gone."
Lord Locke took a deep breath, and continued. "Apparently, their leader was a dark- haired girl: in her late teens, or early twenties; a few of the men heard her say she's a friend of Hiccup's. No idea what happened, after they went topside."
The silence that fell, when he finished speaking, lasted for several minutes.

High- Lord Malchior nodded, and turned to Lord Tarbek. "Anything to add?"

Lord Tarbek nodded. "It was the same on the second boat, except for the group- leader: blonde, early- twenties; according to the crewmen, she… she claimed to be Hiccup's wife!" He cleared his throat, "That they got married a few days before this war started!"

"Hiccup's wife was here?" High- Lord Malchior asked, incredulously.

Lord Melbourne's eyes widened "Drago killed Hiccup's father; we show up; admit to backing Drago. Once Hiccup found out how we control the tribes we subjugate…"
He left the sentence unfinished; the silence that followed, lasted for several minutes.

Part Three – The Northern Dragons

On the island of Berk; two and a half hours after noon,

When Hiccup reseated himself, at the council table, the conversations in the hall quickly faded to silence. Hiccup's personality, his natural charisma; and the way he'd forced four kraken- lords into submission, well- inside of an hour... Everyone wanted to know what he'd do, or say, next; and the best way to do that, was to give him a chance to speak.

A full minute passed in silence. Then Chief Marcus cleared his throat, "So: about this kraken- armada, heading north."

"The first part of this war is over," Hiccup said. "The second is going to require different tactics." The moment he opened his mouth, every eye in the hall was on him.
"Right now," he continued, "we've got a lot of ships, riders and dragons, eight miles to the south. They needed to be there for the first part of this war, or the lords' messenger- birds could've used the sea- stacks, and small islands between here and there, as rest- stops: which would've made their final- destination virtually untraceable."

Chief Tyrek understood immediately, "But now the extra distance is a liability; we need to bring them closer to home."

Chief Hiccup nodded, "We also need to make contact with the southern- tribes: as far as they know, nothing's changed." He turned, "Astrid, Valka; could the two of you make sure they have what they need. The sooner we get those letters sent, the better."
Astrid and Valka nodded, got to their feet, and made their way to the foot of the hall; where the kraken- lords' former- hostages were also getting to their feet.
Chief Marcus frowned, but Hiccup seemed to anticipate his question, "Sailing down and back would take too long, though: You want to go meet some dragons? … I wouldn't recommend flying into battle, or anything: not this early on. Still: Got to start somewhere, right?"

Their response was exactly what you would have expected.

Fifteen minutes later,

Their group came to a stop, the edge of the field where Lara had met her Deadly- Nadder: Summer. As they crested the last hill, and saw the dragons, several of the chiefs, and their men, let out gasps of disbelief.
Dragons roamed across the field, or lay curled up: fully, completely, and clearly at ease. There were Deadly- Nadders; Gronkles; Monstrous- Nightmares; Hideous- Zipplebacks, four Typhoomerangs: Torch, his mother, sister, and brother.

"Incredible, aren't they? This is their true- nature: the way they are when they don't feel threatened." Hiccup turned to them, grinning. "Trust."

Chief Ephraim turned to face him, a small frown on his face. "'Trust'? What–"

Toothless turned to face them. 'At the end of your first council- meeting, I said: "prove to us, that we can trust you": Trust… That is the key, to forming a connection with a dragon. Like this…' Hiccup moved towards Toothless; stopping, a short distance away. Hiccup raised a hand, extending it towards the black dragon. Toothless considered him, for a long moment; then Toothless rested his forehead against Hiccup's outstretched palm.

A moment later, Toothless straightened; he, and Hiccup, turned to face the Viking- chiefs. This time, Hiccup spoke; "When a dragon allows this contact, it is a gesture of trust: of friendship." He looked at each of them, in turn. "I cannot promise that you'll leave here with a dragon; but it's not about finding 'a dragon', it's about finding 'the right dragon'. Find that dragon; prove to him, or her, you can be trusted; and you'll have made a friend for life."

A few seconds after Hiccup finished speaking; a Monstrous- Nightmare, who'd been basking in the sun; opened one eyelid, glanced in their direction, right at Tyrone. It raised its head, turning to look at him with both eyes; a moment later, he got to his feet.
He approached slowly, a few steps at a time; he stopped, about forty feet away, eyeing him uncertainly.

Tyrone frowned, then his expression changed: He drew his sword; and jabbed the upper third of the blade into the ground, by his feet. He took four long strides away from it. When Tyrone turned to face the dragon, he started: A mere ten feet separated them, now. Tyrone shook his head, grinned; and held out his hand, palm out. The Monstrous- Nightmare also seemed to grin; then he rested his snout, against Tyrone's palm.

Hiccup grinned; nodded to Tyrone, and looked around. "This is definitely a good start!"

Five minutes later' a Gronkle got to his feet, and lumbered towards Ephraim: Chief of The Stony Shores. Ephraim immediately handed his axe to one of his men; and moved forward. A few moments later, the dragon was resting his snout against his palm.
After the second pairing, more of the wild- dragons began to take notice of the new arrivals.

An hour after they arrived, they set off to return to the great- hall: making a brief detour to the Dragon- Training Academy, to outfit the new riders with saddles.
By then: At least two guards, or advisors; to each of the chieftains; had been partnered to a dragon, as had all but two chiefs. – Those who hadn't been paired to a dragon firmly agreed on one thing: The right dragon was worth waiting for.

Hiccup entered the great- hall first, on Toothless's back; next came Chief Tyrek and Tyrone, the latter on the back of his Monstrous- Nightmare. Then Chief Ephraim, on his Gronkle. The others following them in: many on dragons, some on foot.
Shouts of congratulations; and growled comments from the dragons: which seemed to please the newly- partnered dragons; came at them from all sides.

By the time they got back, Berks' southern- guests had finished their letters. The members of each tribe took turns describing their tribes' crest; at which point the chief who'd seen that crest, on the ships across from them, would collect the relevant letter.
They would bring it with them, when they brought word of recent events south: to their respective fleets. From there, Terrible- Terrors would carry the message the rest of the way.

The Northern Chieftains spent another half- hour tying- up a few loose ends, though it was clear they were eager to get up in the air. Then the council formally adjourned, with the intent to reconvene the following afternoon: for one last war council, before the Final Battle.

Later; on Berk,

After the new dragon- rider chieftains, and their airborne retinues, had departed from Berk; the rest of the men who'd accompanied their chiefs to the Council Meeting elected to return to the boats they'd come on, for the night.

Once they'd left, Hiccup joined Astrid and his mother; where they stood, with Berks' newest guests. For several minutes, he and Toothless talked to Astrid and Valka: to give the others a chance to finish processing the new revelations, and series of events.

Finally: Arya, Alana, Bella and Brianna came forward to join them. Alana hesitated for a moment; than asked, "What you said, earlier; about having a vision, receiving instructions from Thor; did that… really happen?"

Hiccup nodded, and; for the next ten minutes; gave them a brief account of how he'd met Toothless. He told them about the Battle of The Red- Death; gave an edited summary of his vision, and finished with the sign Thor had sent: to back- up Hiccup's claims, after he'd told the rest of his tribe about the vision.
"It's a lot to process, I know; and a lot has happened, since then." Hiccup shrugged, gesturing with one hand, as he spoke. Light glinted, off of the black scales of his armor.

"When you had the kraken- lords brought in, I… I heard Malik mumbling something, about that armor…" Brianna said, hesitantly. "I didn't quite hear, but… it sounded like he said it was 'alive'." Her face reddened, "I know it sounds ridiculous, but…" She shrugged, letting the sentence drift off.

"It's not ridiculous: it's actually true, in a way," Hiccup said, his expression solemn. "It was forged from a unique deposit of ore, given to me by one of the Night- Fury Elders. For six hundred years; whenever a Night- Fury sensed they were nearing the end of their lives, they would plunge into a pool of magma that lay deep beneath the caverns of their ancestral- home: the Isle of Night. Over the centuries: the scales, of those Night- Furies, mixed with the elements of the earth, and formed the ore."
Hiccup raised his arm in front of him, examining the black scales. "Somehow: they left an imprint of … their minds, their souls; I'm never quite sure what to call it. But, in either case: they endure, within the metal. It isn't easy for The Ancestors to manifest themselves, but… I think Malik irritated them."

'MALIK QUESTIONED OUR EXISTANCE.' A disembodied voice; or rather: a chorus of voices, speaking in perfect unison; whispered. 'HE KNOWS BETTER, NOW … WE GAVE OUR SCALES, OUR FIRE, SO THE PEACEMAKER COULD DO WHAT HE MUST: TO END THE BLOODSHED BETWEEN HUMANS AND DRAGONS. TOO MUCH HARM HAS BEEN DONE, TO BOTH SIDES: THERE. MUST. BE. PEACE.'
One might expect such an experience to be 'unnerving', at best; but there was something… warm, hopeful, to the voice. And a profound feeling that the speakers meant well.
Awe filled Brianna's face, and the faces of those around her; awe, but not fear.

"Thor said to forge a peace between humans and dragons," Hiccup said, to fill the silence. "Not 'northerners and dragons'; 'humans and dragons'." He looked around. "But first, I'd need to know a little about who I'm dealing with." – Their conversation continued.

Part Four – Impossible Tidings

The following morning; 'Chief' Hedrick's flagship,

Almost seven years had passed, since the Kraken- Lords had taken over; the 'mood' of their tribe had long since solidified into a sort of surly- resentment. With the Kraken- Lords; the Gods, who seemed to have no problem with what the Kraken- Lords were doing; and… well: life in general.

Everyone; except for the men on duty, up on deck; had gathered for breakfast. The room was devoid of conversation: What was there to talk about? They simply sat, and ate.
Then the sound of running footsteps reached their ears; a moment later, a man burst into the room. He was panting hard, and holding a scroll.

"Chief… Hedrick: I… I've go–got news!" the man rasped.

Hedrick scowled at the man. "Not much point calling me 'chief', Dirk: I haven't been a chief since those blasted Kraken- Lords dragged–" He sighed, "What's the message; new orders, doubtless."

Dirk grinned, "It's not from the Kraken- Lords, Chief! It's from your wife: Arya and Alana are on Berk! Hiccup; the Dragon- Master, and Chief of Berk; he's gone and hijacked the Kraken- Lords' conquest- method: he's been playing Lord Bane like a sett of panpipes!"

A very different kind of silence settled over the room. Hedrick waited for a count of ten; then asked, "What did you just say?"

"You heard me right, sir!" Dirk said: unrolling the scroll, as he spoke. "The Chief of Berk has seized hostage- ships; offered them safe- sanctuary on Berk! Apparently: Hiccup figured out what the kraken- banners meant; sent Night- Fury patrols to monitor the Northern- Villages for abduction- attempts: Spirited the northern- hostages right out from under Blackthorn's ugly nose! Than, when the Northern- Council convened; Hiccup told them what he'd done, and got the other chiefs on- board with his battle- plan!"
The moment the words 'battle- plan' left his mouth, Dirk began to chuckle.

Hedrick's breath caught in his throat. It took a few tries; but he finally said, "Battle- plan… what battle- plan? … DIRK!"

Dirk took several deep breaths. "Sorry, chief; it's just… this 'Hiccup'; he's some kind of master- strategist himself! The Northerners; they've been tracking the messenger- birds: every time a fleet checked- in, the northerners' marked the birds' heading, and sent it to Berk … The Chief of Berk has been using our positions as reference- points, and his dragons to bypass the forward lines!" – An instant later, the pieces clicked into place, in the minds of the listeners. For a full minute, nobody spoke.

"Is there more?" Hedrick asked.

"That was as far as I read, but yes," Dirk unrolled the scroll, and found his place. "He's taken four Kraken- Lords captive: Malcolm; Malik; Blackthorn, and…" His eyes widened, "Gods be good: he's captured Lord Bane!"
A wave of exclamations filled the room: awed, jubilant, and a few of disbelief. Such a feat seemed impossible, and yet…

Dirk's eyes continued to scan the page; he frowned, "Arya says there's more, but she'll have to wait to tell you the rest because…" Dirk's face paled, and his eyed bulged. "She says 'Hiccup confronted Malik with suspicions Malik unintentionally confirmed: Each Kraken- Lord has a personal- war fleet; which initially totaled two- thousand ships. Approximately eighteen- hundred believed to be moving north, even now'!"

"Eighteen- hundred ships?" The shred of hope that had kindled in Hedrick's soul flickered; he had a sinking feeling it'd soon be snuffed out. "There's no way we can fight that many!"

"There's more," Dirk told them, and continued to summarize the contents of the letter.

When he finished, Chief Hedrick felt his own mouth curling into a smile; the muscles of his face stretching in a way they had not for years. "So," he mused, "the Chief of Berk has his own 'grievances' with the Kraken- Lords; but they come from beyond the boarders of the Archipelagos, beyond their jurisdiction." He let out a low chuckle, "No matter: I think we can 'do business'. If the Northerners want Blackthorn, they can have him: so long as he gets what he deserves." – A ripple of agreement moved through the room.

Further down the line; 'Chief' Donovan's flagship,

His sausages had never wronged him, but Donovan stabbed at them as though they had committed an unforgivable offence. Six months had passed, since the Kraken- Lords had dragged off his wife, Bella; and their daughter, Brianna.
His son, Bergan, sat next to him; attacking his sausages in much the same way he was. He was nineteen, which the Kraken- Lords deemed 'old enough to fight'. He was dark haired; broad- shouldered, and of average height for his age.

The sound of hurried footsteps drew him out of his reverie; Donovan looked up, just in time to see the messenger hurry into the room. He held a scroll in one hand, and a glint in his eyes that looked suspiciously like triumph.

"New orders, Goren?" Donovan asked, though he knew that couldn't have been right: new orders wouldn't explain the look in Goren's eyes.

"Not exactly, sir," Goren replied. "A letter, from your wife." The instant the words left his mouth, the room grew very quiet.

"What?" Donovan's eyes widened. "That's impossible: the Kraken- Lords would never–" He left the sentence unfinished, and considered the new arrival. "Go on, then."

"I didn't read the whole thing: just the first bit," Goren admitted, unrolling the scroll. "Apparently the Chief of Berk, this 'Hiccup', has been one step ahead of the Kraken- Lords from the beginning: Figured out what the kraken- banners meant; guessed they used hostages; deployed Night- Fury patrols to monitor for abduction- attempts; and had his stealthiest Terrible- Terror deliver a letter to them, with extraction- instructions."
Goren chuckled, "They've been tracking the messenger- birds: The Chief of Berk has been using our positions as reference- points, and his dragons to bypass the forward lines! He's also taken four Kraken- Lords captive: Malcolm, Blackthorn, Malik, and Bane."
A wave of exclamations rolled through the room.
It took some time; but, eventually, they made their way through the rest of the report. The latter part contained some 'unsettling' news, but things actually seemed to be under control.

Donovan's eyes glittered, angrily. "Well, since the topic has come up: I've been wanting to have a word with Malik."

To Be Continued…