Author's note: First of all, happy new year! I hope 2011 will be a wonderful year for all of you! the second thing is, I've been buried under a mountain of work recently, which explains the lack of updates on this story. But this chapter is 13 pages long, so I hope it makes up for your patience ;-)

The third thing is: special thanks to MattLuvzJones for his thorough reviews and constructive criticims, which is always welcome. Special thanks, too, to Ch4rms/Gumdrop Boo who helped me on a particular line of this chapter. I dedicate this chapter to the both of you in thanks. :-)

And that's about it. Enjoy your reading, and if you can, don't forget to hit that little button authors love so much!

Astrid was beginning to wonder what kind of trick the Gods were playing on her. She had been flying for several hours and, according to her calculations, had covered about seven hundred and sixty miles and the pod of dolphins below her still hadn't cease to swim. She could only make out their silhouettes now and had even needed to force them to stop several times, for Starkad wasn't accustomed to such long flights and taking regular breaks was thus unavoidable. Astrid had taken pride on her decision to let Hiccup teach her Deadly Nadder how to make a sea-landing. However, Starkad was getting very tired and would need to stop flying soon and even though Astrid loathed the idea of losing some precious time, she knew pushing her dragon too far would only increase her already fair share of problems. The Deadly Nadder had gradually been losing altitude and tried to use the warm currents of air in order to glide and rest her wings as often as possible. As for Ruffnut's Terrible Terror, Spark, he was comfortably sleeping on the saddle, behind the blonde Viking and obviously didn't give a damn about the journey.

Astrid scanned the horizon in search of anything that looked like land. The night had fallen for a couple of hours, and while her dragon's eyes were not that bothered by the absence of daylight, her own definitely lacked that ability and her navigation relied solely on the polar star and Starkad's skills. Allowing herself to close her eyes for what she thought was only a moment, Astrid concentrated on the feeling of the Ring of Heavens pendant moving slightly against her chest.

She must have fallen asleep –a dangerous concept when riding a dragon- and was jolted awake when Starkad let out a furious screech and banked right abruptly to avoid colliding with an imposing rock face she was positive hadn't been there moments ago. Blinking rapidly to shake her brain back into place, she deftly maneuvered Starkad up again, and as her dragon turned round, she was able to realize the rock face in question was actually a series of enormous sea-cliffs.

"Phew…That was close."

Starkad responded by an indignant squawk, to which Astrid couldn't help but smile and pat the dragon on her neck to apologize for the lack of concentration. Deep inside her, Astrid was immensely relieved; now that she'd found land, her Deadly Nadder would finally be able to rest. Looking down, she tried to see if the dolphins were still there, but the surrounding darkness of the moonless night made it nearly impossible to spot anything. She would have liked to thank the mammals for their help. Shrugging, Astrid focused on her current objective –landing- and could make out a point of light, probably streaming from a window, about six hundred feet away from the edge of the cliffs. The Deadly Nadder suddenly emitted a quiet whine, and Astrid took her cue. Her dragon's wings would soon give out from exhaustion.

Starkad's landing was nowhere near as perfect as it usually was, but considering the physical strain the dragon had undergone for the past hours, Astrid warmly complimented her spiked friend nonetheless. It was only then that the Terrible Terror behind her seemed to deem it necessary to wake up. Sliding down the neck and shoulder of her dragon, Astrid's boots hit the ground noiselessly, and she took a moment to stretch her numb limbs. Some of her bones popped a little at the rough awakening. Down below, she could hear the waves as they repeatedly crashed on the rocks as if attempting to break them. Had she fallen off of Starkad, she probably would have ended up in a state she didn't quite like to imagine.

When she had looked all around her and was sure she was alone, she undid the straps that held Dagmar as well as her axe and the spear the dolphins had brought to Berk in position on Starkad's saddle. She supposed there was a reason Hiccup wanted her to have the spear, and had thus decided to take it with her. Carefully, she set all three weapons on the ground before opening the bag that contained the new clothes she'd brought with her. Wherever she was, she didn't want people to know she was a Viking by simply looking at her. Removing her shoulder pads and the rest of her armor, she felt a shiver run down her spine. It wasn't long until she got rid of the rest of her usual clothing and put on the long-sleeved, vivid red shirt and the long, robin's egg blue tunic that went past her hips and which Svanhilde had designed to look like some sort of dress and stuffed with fur to make sure her daughter wouldn't get cold. After having tied a light, comfortable black belt around her narrow waist and having done Dagmar's scabbard up to said belt, Astrid quickly rearranged her hair into its tight braid out of pure habit. Slipping a pair of leather gauntlets on, she bent to pick up her axe and securely strapped it on her back. She figured she could use the spear as a staff when walking. On the one hand, she hoped carrying all three weapons with her would dissuade any numbskull from attacking her, and on the other hand, she hoped it wouldn't scare people off too easily because, as much as she hated admitting it, she depended on the information they could provide her with. After all, she didn't know a thing about the place Hiccup had been taken to, wherever that might be. Sighing – mainly out of frustration-, she gathered her former clothes in order to put them into the bag she would leave with Starkad and was surprised to make out a small pouch at the bottom of it. She reached for it, not remembering putting it there in the first place, her eyes widening in pleasant surprise at the familiar sensation of coins tintinabulating through the leather. There was enough gold in there to last for several weeks. Opening the pouch out of pure curiosity, her inquisitive fingertips brushed against a small piece of parchment that had been tucked inside the pouch.

"Starkad? Can you give me a little bit of light, please?"

The Deadly Nadder complied immediately, breathing out gas and lighting it gently to produce a soft, durable flame. The piece of parchment Astrid was holding was covered with a scruffy handwriting that she recognized easily.

Hey.

Dunno when you'll read this, but I totally beat the crap out of Tuff and 'Lout to get them to gimme their savings for ya. 'Legs did it on his own, shows how persuasive I am.

Send us Spark when you can to keep us posted. We'll be on the lookout.

Ruff.

P.S.: When you find your puddle of love, give him a big wet one for me, will ya?

"Yeah, one can dream," Astrid commented in mock exasperation, even though a smile was creeping on her lips. Typical Ruffnut. Sure, she was crazy, but the both of them had been friends for as long as Astrid could remember. Good friends. Always playing tricks on one another, and most importantly on the others. True partners in crime, they were, and Astrid would not have it any other way. She replaced the parchment into the pouch, and secured the whole thing to her belt, appreciating Ruffnut's thoughtfulness. The way the coins tinkled cheerfully was a welcome sound indeed.

Once sure she wasn't forgetting anything, Astrid turned to her dragon and extended her hand to scratch the tiny crevice just above the animal's eye, making Starkad purr blissfully.

"Alright, girl. Get yourself a nice cave or something. I'll continue on my own for now."

The spiked dragon perked up upon hearing her rider's words, obviously not agreeing with the blonde Viking.

"I know you don't like this, but I need to be as stealthy as possible. Stay here and rest."

For a couple of seconds, Starkad looked her rider up and down, emitting a series of indignant squawks in protest, but when it became clear that Astrid wasn't going to change her mind about this, the dragon eventually ended up laying down, turning her back on the blonde Viking and sulking for good measure.

"Dragons," Astrid commented, chuckling quietly. Motioning for Spark to follow her, she turned round and headed for the point of light ahead of her, her steps light but determined.

She hoped whoever was living in the cottage would be able to provide her with at least a little bit of information. Whilst walking, she let her mind wander back to the conversation she'd had with Stoick before her departure. The bitter hours during which they'd both believed they definitely had lost Hiccup forever had created a bond between them. And although neither Stoick nor Astrid had been able to know what to say to one another, their mutual, silent grief had been enough for the Chief to give her a father-like hug before the beginning of Old Wrinkly's funeral. Astrid knew how she felt without Hiccup, but she could only imagine what Stoick had felt like when he'd thought he'd lost the last remaining member of his family, his own flesh and blood. The burden of being Berk's chieftain had prevented him from giving in to his despair in front of the village and his responsibilities had given something else to focus on, but she knew that deep inside, despite the Viking-like façade, Stoick had been more than hurt by the recent events. He'd been broken, and the simple way he'd quietly closed the door behind him after having attended his duties had been enough for Astrid too see right through him. Maybe Hiccup was right about not concealing his emotions after all. Why did they all have to be so worried about letting others know just how they felt? What was it that Vikings actually feared about this?

Astrid's thoughts were shattered as she suddenly found herself facing the front door of the "cottage" she'd been heading for. It looked actually much bigger than she had expected. She could hear many different voices talking, shouting, laughing or singing inside, though they were mainly masculine. Astrid smiled to herself in acknowledgement. Back on Berk, there was only one place that would be still open at this hour of night and resound with such merry, inebriated sounds. She saw no reason why this place would be any different. Looking up to confirm her suspicions, she spotted a wooden board hanging above the door and she had to tilt her head to the side to read the inscription it sported.

The Ugly Bastard.

"Well, how nice is that? C'mon, Spark," Astrid said while looking above her shoulder at Ruffnut's Terrible Terror, "Let's get something to drink."

The door creaked angrily when she pulled it, but only she heard it amidst the ambient noise. Looking around her, her eyes widened a bit out of surprise. She did not remember the last time she'd seen so many people at once in a single tavern. That was, however, good news since it would hopefully prevent her from being at the centre of attention.

"Hey honey! Mind shutting the bloody door?" some drunkard barked unceremoniously as he passed by her. She considered making him swallow his words but decided that threatening him to chop his private parts in the middle of the tavern would be anything but stealthy. Not to mention a complete waste of time. Emitting a low growl of displeasure, she complied anyway and shut the door roughly before taking a couple of steps forward, trying to spot a free table and feeling her anger rise within her as she found none. That is, until she heard someone whistle that tune, the one Snotlout had always used to try to get her attention. She spun round, her eyes narrowing dangerously as they peered at a group of men sitting around a table at the other end of the room, ogling her and thrusting their hips forward in obscene motions and laughing ridiculously. That is, until they noticed the axe she was gripping ferociously as she strode along to where they were. Had she paid a little bit of attention, Astrid would have noticed the silence that had suddenly fallen all around her, following each step she took. In one swift motion, she raised the weapon above her head and let it sail through the air until it stuck itself into the table with a loud thunk. The men yelped in fright and looked up to stare at the blonde woman in front of them. She savored the way their jaws dropped under her coldest glare.

"Get out. Now."

Drunk or not, the implied threat was perfectly understood. Maybe it was the alcohol that made their minds sharper, or maybe it was simply the gruesome glint of the axe or the sight of the two other weapons the woman carried with her. Whatever the case, the men stood up abruptly and rushed out of The Ugly Bastard as if all Hel had just broken loose.

Astrid allowed herself to snicker in a very despising manner. "Cowards."

It was only then that she became aware of how silent the tavern had become, all customers staring at her as if she'd farted at a funeral.

Great. So much for being stealthy.

Deciding that it was too late to change what had just happened anyway, Astrid let out a loud "What?" that resulted in countless mumblings as the other customers quickly and wisely forgot about her to mind their own buisness. The blonde Viking plopped into one of the chairs, Spark settling comfortably on her knees and rumbling happily as the human's fingers scratched his back absent-mindedly. Taking in her surroundings, Astrid's nostrils narrowed blissfully the moment they detected the wonderful smell of spit-roasted meat that floated in the air, and it made her stomach awaken eagerly. From what she could see, most customers were busy drinking, eating, arm-wrestling, rushing outside to lose their latest meal and trying to seduce some of the waitresses. There was also a funny-looking man – mainly because of his odd haircut – who was busy singing something about a monkey in his pocket. She listened for a moment to the stupid lyrics until a powerful, deep voice made itself heard beside her. She looked up, meeting the gaze of a friendly looking man whom she supposed was the innkeeper.

"Welcome to The Ugly Bastard, lassie. Nice of ya to scare my customers off. What's the big idea?"

"….Sorry."

The man chuckled good-heartedly whilst wiping the table clean with a cloth. "Nah, those idiots deserved it. Actually, you did me a service kickin' them out. So," he added, giving her a knowing wink, "What'll it be for ya? My round."

She smiled. "A pint of mead, please. And a plate of whatever's being cooked in the kitchen."

The innkeeper shot her an appreciating smile. "Smells nice, eh? My wife's been trying new recipes recently. Good thing, too, 'cause her peas played hell with my digestion. But don't tell her I told ya or she'll hit me with that damn fryin' pan of hers."

"No problem."

"I'll be back with your order."

In the meantime, miles away from The Ugly Bastard, Nolan was slowly awakening from his agitated slumber. Blinking, he tried to focus on the landscape that surrounded him, but the stars were not casting enough light to distinguish anything clearly. His back ached uncomfortably because of the incessant gallop of the horse he was sitting on. The redhead boy didn't know how much time had elapsed since Hiccup had shoved him into the strong arms of Dalkor, the rider who had saved him from the Ciar Knights' attack at Teilann. Nolan had not even had the time to ask where they were heading for when Dalkor had entrusted him - several days ago - into another rider's care – Brian, if Nolan had heard correctly- with the absolute and immediate order to take the boy to the friary of Ceartlár. Apparently that was the only place Dalkor deemed safe enough for Nolan to stay at.

The memories of what had happened at Teilann assaulted Nolan's mind, and he felt his eyes burn with fresh, hot tears as his mother's pleas resounded in his ears again. He wished he could have done something to save her, but Hiccup had prevented him from doing anything. And why was Kiel never there when he should be? Nolan felt rage bubble up inside him, hating both his big brother for having been absent and Hiccup for having abandoned him like that, although Nolan knew he was being unfair to the young Viking. After all, Hiccup had only wanted to protect him and he had done the only thing he could.

Hiccup…What had happened to him? Was he dead? That was what Dalkor supposed. He'd told the boy that the Ciar Knights never spared fugitives unless they had a good reason to do so. And, according to the fair-haired, red-hooded horse-rider, they certainly had no reason to spare a cripple who'd helped someone escape from the attack. But the boy knew Hiccup was smart, so maybe the young man had actually managed to save his own life…Nolan certainly hoped so. He had not known Hiccup for a very long time, but he had immediately felt as if the Viking was a good old friend, not unlike what little he remembered his father being like. Nolan had been only four years old when Feren had disappeared at sea, and the only thing he could remember was his mother trying to tell him as gently as possible that Feren would not come back. Out of sheer innocence, Nolan had asked Kiristi if, when one died, it was for all life long, and it had resulted in a bittersweet moment between the two.

The hammering of the horse's hooves slowly died, and Nolan looked up to peer at the ever increasing silhouette of an imposing building whose numerous windows were still lit by candle light. The fifteen feet high, stone grey walls stood proudly, surrounding what he guessed could only be their destination. It was only at that moment that the vice-like pressure of Brian's arm around the boy's waist lessened a little.

"Nolan?" Brian asked gently, sympathetically, not knowing whether the boy sitting in front of him was awake or not. No reply came, but he could feel the child's body tense and knew Nolan was listening. If the redhead boy didn't wish to speak, that was fine with Brian. He figured Nolan had seen enough horror already and that it would take some time before he was ready to talk about what had happened.

"This is the friary of Ceartlár, where you will stay until it's safe for you to go somewhere else. The friars are very friendly men, you know. Especially Friar Curren. They will take good care of you. Dalkor and I will try to come and visit you as often as possible. You have to be nice with the friars, okay?"

"…Yes."

"Good."

The horse they were riding came to stop in front of the main gate, and both passengers dismounted from the tired animal, Brian's hand patting its neck in thanks. Nolan did the same, his eyes glancing at the equid's dilated nostrils and the way they fogged up the air when breathing out. Brian took a step forward and reached for the bell that had been conveniently placed at the entrance of the friary. The bell rang loudly, emitting a clear, silver sound that echoed all around them. The horse did not seem to be frightened by the noise, and while they all waited for someone to open the heavy wooden gate, Nolan came to the conclusion that it probably meant Dalkor and Brian and whoever was on their side paid regular visits to the friars.

"Who are you, you who seek God's humble servants' services?" a calm, melodious voice asked from the other side of the door.

"Friar Curren! It's me, Brian! I've come on Dalkor's behalf."

The order to open the door was immediately uttered and both Brian and Nolan were soon greeted by a group of five benevolent-looking friars carrying candles to provide them with more light. The oldest friar made his way to where Brian stood and both men hugged each other for a brief moment before the friar's eyes settled on Nolan. The boy shuddered under the intensity of the older man's pupils, which were a rather beautiful mix of different shades of brown, and silence settled as Friar Curren and the boy stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity. The friar finally raised an eyebrow in question, and Brian immediately answered.

"The Ciar Knights ransacked Teilann, Friar Curren. Holin himself was leading them. They massacred everything and almost everyone. Dalkor says they took some prisoners and are leading them to Dún Fionnachaidh right now. We think Holin wants them to face –

"The Ravens' Tribunal."

"Yes."

Friar Curren sighed audibly, shaking his head sadly. "One day, Holin will burn in Hell for his crimes. What about that boy?"

Brian motioned for Nolan to leave the horse's side and come over to where they stood. He put a protective hand on the boy's shoulder as the latter lowered his head, his wild bangs hiding tired blue eyes, refusing to look anywhere but the ground.

"This is Nolan. He's the only one who's escaped from the attack. Apparently, he was saved by a young, crippled man who literally threw him onto Dalkor's horse. Dalkor says the man begged him to take the boy somewhere safe despite being himself in serious danger. We don't know what exactly happened to him, but there's much to bet that he's dead by now. You know how Holin and the Ciar Knights are. Dalkor wanted to honor his wish though, and he ordered me to bring Nolan here in the hope that you'd take him in as long as necessary. Can you do us that favor?"

Friar Curren did not answer straight away, choosing instead to kneel in front of the redhead boy and lifting his chin with the tip of his forefinger.

"Do you want to stay here, Nolan?"

Nolan's eyes widened. Was the friar really giving him a choice? He glanced rapidly at Brian, who nodded solemnly in response. He couldn't say that he wanted to stay at Ceartlár, but it still seemed like the best option he had. Nolan closed his eyes for a moment, remembering the way his mother had cried out to Hiccup to save him, to protect him. The Viking had done everything he could, and Nolan thought he'd really be ungrateful if he ruined their efforts. No, they had all wanted him to be safe, and so safe he would be, if only out of respect for them. Nolan opened his eyes again, and felt hot tears roll down his cheeks as he looked down at Friar Curren again.

"Yes, please."

Friar Curren smiled warmly, reaching out to cup the boy's cheeks and wipe his tears away with his thumbs. "Then so be it. You're a brave boy. Brian," he added whilst getting up, "do you wish to spend the night? We will gladly put you up until morning."

"No, but thank you. I have to go back and tell the others about what happened. Dalkor wants me to be back as soon as possible."

Friar Curren frowned, and then turned round to whisper something into another friar's ear. The man nodded eagerly and ran off to do whatever he'd been asked to. It was only when he came back with a magnificent, frisky palomino that was pawing the ground in impatience that Brian understood what Friar Curren had had in mind.

"Then take at least another horse. Yours is exhausted. We will take care of him until you return."

Brian's face lit up instantly at that prospect. He'd have been lying if he'd said that he wasn't worried about his horse's current state. It was obvious that the poor animal wouldn't have been able to carry him for more than a single mile. Beaming, he nodded and mounted agilely on the palomino's back, expertly appreciating the strong shape of the animal. Brian looked down at the group of friars below him. "Thank you for everything. I shall return soon."

"May God bless the Thousand Wolves. Goodbye, brother. Send Dalkor my best regards."

"I will. Goodbye, Nolan."

The latter only nodded in response, and Brian gave the horse its head. Nolan stared at his shrinking figure until it became nothing but an undistinguishable point in the night. The boy didn't dare to move until he felt a firm yet gentle hand settle on his shoulder and he looked up, and the sad yet welcoming smile Friar Curren was giving him made him feel like he was going to burst into tears again.

"When you feel like you are ready, we will teach you everything that you might want to learn from us. But for now, let us get you something to eat, and then you can rest at your heart's content."

Astrid wiped her mouth clean, still savoring the tiniest taste lingering on her tongue. The Irish stew she'd almost wolfed down had been delicious beyond anything she'd ever eaten on Berk. It was too bad she didn't have the time to ask for the recipe. There were only a few people still in the main room of The Ugly Bastard, and most of them were sound asleep, sprawled all over the tables and snoring like dragons. The innkeeper and his employees – those who were not busy upstairs with some customers, that is – were busy cleaning the whole place and trying to make the last drunkards leave. When he noticed the blonde woman had finished her food, the innkeeper snapped his fingers and a black-haired waitress immediately rushed to clear the table. It was only when she disappeared behind the door which led to the kitchen that he decided to come over and take the seat opposite Astrid.

"Well? What do ya think?"

"It was delicious, thank you."

He smiled happily at the compliment, pride painting itself on his face. "So what are ya doin' here anyway? I've never seen ya before. I'd have noticed."

"I'm looking for someone."

"Oh?"

"A young man, my age. Russet hair, green eyes, a lot of freckles and a little scar on the chin. Thin, probably wearing a green tunic as well. And, well," Astrid added with a pained smile, "missing half of his left leg."

The innkeeper shook his head categorically. "Nope, doesn't ring any bells. Sorry."

"No trouble. It would have been too good to be true."

"If I may ask, why are ya lookin' for the lad?"

"We're…engaged."

Astrid didn't know what she found the most curious: the way the innkeeper's eyes seemed to jump out of their eyeballs or the fact that she was having this conversation with a man she'd never met before.

"And he ran off?"

This time, Astrid laughed good-heartedly at the innkeeper's expression and his 'the lad's gotta be crazy' motion.

"No, no! He didn't run off. We just had…different matters to attend and we agreed on meeting one another somewhere around here when we'd be done." Astrid explained, deciding that a small white lie wasn't going to ruin her cover and intentions. She simply didn't want to tell the innkeeper about Hiccup's abduction.

"Oh, I see. Well, I'm sorry I can't help you, lassie. One piece of advice though: don't go near Teilann."

"Really? Why?"

"Bein' an innkeeper and all is a good way to gather information, and I heard people talk about how the village was ravaged several days ago by the Ciar Knights."

"The Ciar Knights?"

"Aye. Bloody mercenaries, they are. Always wearing black armors."

Astrid's heart suddenly tightened, and whether it was in terror or absolute hope she did not know. The men who had attacked Old Wrinkly, Hiccup, Toothless and her in the clearing days ago had been wearing pitch black armors. This could not be a coincidence. Loki might as well be honest.

"And where exactly is Teilann?"

The innkeeper's jaw dropped in sincere horror. For God's sake, he'd just told her to avoid that forsaken place!

"Now, lassie, did ya hear what I just told ya? Teilann's been destroyed. There's nothin' to see there."

"Please. I need to make sure my fiancé wasn't there when the attack happened."

He sighed regretfully, definitely not wanting the woman in front of him to go there. But she had her reasons.

"It's about three miles away from here. You must go to the south-east. The village's below the bulk of the sea-cliffs."

"Well," Astrid announced as she rose to her feet, Ruffnut's Terrible Terror clearly not appreciating the sudden, unexpected movement, "I'll get going, then."

"What, now? But it's the dead of night! Ya can't just wander outside like that!"

"I appreciate your concern, but I don't want to waste any more time. Thank you very much for your help. And for the meal. You sure you don't want me to pay anything?"

"Aye. Ya remind me of my daughter. Beautiful like ya, she was." The blonde Viking could only notice the veil of sadness and utter grief that suddenly appeared in the innkeeper's eyes. "Anyway, can I at least interest ya in a horse or somethin'? I don't like the thought of ya bein' all alone outta here."

Astrid kept quiet for a second. She had a dragon, after all, and she was pretty sure Starkad would be insanely jealous if she found out her rider was travelling on another animal, but at the same time a horse would certainly be far less conspicuous than a Deadly Nadder, and less likely to arouse suspicion.

"A horse sounds good. But this time, I'll pay."

Once she was sitting comfortably on her newly acquired pitch black stallion, she looked down at the innkeeper who was busy fastening her axe and spear to the saddle. She didn't know where she was going and what dangers she was literally throwing herself into, but she knew she'd never forget about that innkeeper's help and generosity. Hadn't it been for him, she would have wasted such a precious amount of time looking for the tiniest clue that might lead her to Hiccup. The innkeeper quickly completed his task and wiped his hands clean on his apron, stroking the horse's strong neck affectionately.

"Teilann is over there, lassie. Trust your horse when ya don't see the path."

"Thank you. You've never told me your name."

"Ya haven't told me yours either, lassie. And honestly, I don't care. Just promise ya'll be careful. Those are dangerous times we're livin'."

"Promise. When I find my man, we'll come back to The Ugly Bastard and share a drink with you."

"I'll be waitin', lassie, I'll be waitin'."

And with that, Astrid made her stallion turn round and break into a pleasant gallop in the direction the innkeeper had indicated, her heart soaring with newfound hope. If Teilann had been attacked recently, then Hiccup might not be as far away from her as she had previously thought. It was only a question of time before she found him.

She was definitely in higher spirits than the day before, and it was a welcome change indeed. Yes, Hiccup may be in trouble –and he probably was, since he was Hiccup after all- but she was the epitome of Viking-ness and nothing would prevent her from destroying any obstacle that would dare to try preventing her from reaching her one and only goal.

The air was cool, not cold, and riding a horse was a new sensation to her. She figured that she'd have no problem with it after riding a dragon, and she was right. She could use the same gestures to make her mount do roughly the same things than Starkad –who, by the way, still hadn't showed up since Astrid had left her on the edge of the sea-cliffs.

According to the indications the innkeeper had given her and her own calculations, she'd already managed to cover half of the distance that separated her from Teilann. She concentrated on the way her hips had to follow the movement of the stallion's gallop to keep her balance and she reveled at the familiar yet still fantastic feeling of the wind blowing in her face when her horse suddenly reared up, emitting a loud neigh of terror, and she only attributed the fact that she hadn't fallen off the saddle straight away to her dragon riding skills.

The stallion refused to calm down whatever soothing motions and words she tried to use, and she ultimately decided to dismount to check what the Hel was wrong. She had not taken three steps forward when she felt something wrap around her ankle, and she cried out in surprise. Kicking out wildly to free herself, she felt her eyes widen when her foot collided with what could only be someone's jaw, and the cries of pain that followed only confirmed it.

"What the-

Astrid bent over to take a better look at the scene before her .There, just in front of her, laid three men. Two of them were completely motionless, and judging by the size of the respective pools of blood they were bathing in, there wasn't much she could do for them anymore except maybe close their eyes. The isolated surroundings and the expression of surprise on their seemingly carved faces told her everything she needed to know about what had happened to them. She knew what an ambush looked like, and she'd be damned if this hadn't been one. The third man, however, was still moving and hoarsely whispering unintelligible things to whoever might hear him. He was probably the one whom she had just kicked in the face. Frowning, Astrid kneeled beside him and rolled him none too gently in her lap to check his wounds. They were serious, but not deadly. She was positive he would make it.

"Hey there. Can you hear me?"

"Diamonds…gone…Thousand…Wolves…"

Great. He was being delirious. Just what she needed.

"Help…us."

She sighed, more out of frustration than anything else, really. "Us? There's no 'us' here. Your companions are dead."

He seemed to focus a bit more at that, though his breathing was still much labored.

"Please…Take us back…to Teilann."

Teilann?

He wanted to go to Teilann? Now that was something Astrid had not expected. Looking around her, she suddenly noticed broken pieces of black armor scattered all around the place, and it suddenly hit her. Those men were probably Ciar Knights. They had been attacked by someone – or something – and if the last of the three wanted to go back to Teilann, it could only mean that at least a troop of soldiers was still there. And if she actually brought those men back to their leader, whoever he was, he would welcome her with open arms. Infiltrating a troop of Ciar Knights seemed like the best plan she had for now, and so she stood up and went to where her stallion stood and took her axe. The only way she could bring three men and herself to Teilann with only one horse was to build a makeshift splint for the corpses. Then she'd put the survivor onto the saddle and cover the remaining distance by foot.

And then, when she'd finally get to Teilann, her plan would be set into motion.

Special footnote: Careful readers probably noticed it, but I want to point out that the guy Astrid sees singing about a monkey at The Ugly Bastard is definitely a reference to Monkey Island. I was surprised at how many people liked the crossover I draw on Da between Hiccup and Guybrush Threepwood, so I decided to include a little easter egg in this chapter.