XVIII.
Astrid leaned her back stiffly against the crate, knees pulled up tight to her body to minimize the surface area she covered. She ducked her head down, staring at her feet rather than the metal-laden ship about her, and relied on touch and hearing to observe her surroundings. Sensed the vibration on the hard deck beneath her. Felt the unwelcome hard and heavy pulse of the heart inside her chest. Listened to Snotlout's nervous breaths panting at her right side.
Voices carried over her head, the voices of dragon trappers from whom she wished remain undetected. When she heard the heavy footfall of boots stomp across deck toward her, she forced herself not to breathe. Snotlout, for once with a little amount of discretion, did likewise.
The shadow of a pair of boots fell past the two Hooligans, but then returned the way they came.
This was probably a bad idea, Astrid admitted to herself.
And when the sound of clopping footsteps completely faded, Snotlout remarked aloud – a bit too noisy for her comfort – "This was a dumb idea. I say we go back."
Though he unintentionally directly repeated Astrid's own train of thought, his rude declaration grated against her, and she found her fingers clenching tightly against the haft of her axe. She forced herself to loosen her hands, but her eyes almost unconsciously rolled when Snotlout piped up his voice again.
"You should have listened to me. I'm in charge, anyway."
After hissing at Snotlout to lower his voice, Astrid retorted, "You are not." With that, she pulled herself up to her feet and lightly darted across the deck to another cover – a large metal device, possibly some sort of a dragon trap. Snotlout followed, boots clunking, but thankfully neither of the Vikings were heard. They peeked out from around the side of their hideaway, watching Drago's dragon trappers working on board. They shuffled on deck, transferring materials, sharpening weapons, seemingly typical activities for men preparing for potential war. Though the ship appeared foreboding in a sense, dark metals and spikes scattered amongst ship riggings and ropes, no activity here appeared unusual or suspicious.
I would have sworn they were hiding something from us, Astrid thought to herself. She did not know whether to be relieved the trappers appeared to be working honestly, or frustrated at herself for reacting so initially suspiciously against them and their chief, Drago.
Astrid also had hoped Snotlout would cease speaking after their final round of dialogue, but he apparently wished to argue. He pulled up Astrid's last comment and directly countered it, not seeming to care that her remark had been several minutes ago. "Sure I'm in charge," he averred cockily, puffing out his already-thick chest to an impressive breadth. "Stoick's gone, so is Hiccup, and I'm the next in line."
"Look, Snotlout," Astrid said, turning away from her view of the trappers and staring the shorter young man in the eye. "Just because you're Stoick's nephew doesn't automatically give you authority. Not when the chief specifically placed Magnus and Gobber in control. In all honesty, if I had to pick between you and your sister, I'd pick Adelaide."
"But she's only eleven."
"Yeah. At least she acts her age." Halfway through her sentence, Astrid realized her voice was unintentionally rising, and forced herself to pull the volume down again while remaining just as terse. She glanced back apprehensively to make sure no one on board the vessel had heard her speak.
They continued to transfer materials, eyes cast downward more often than not.
"Is that supposed to be an insult?" Snotlout frowned.
Astrid gestured for Snotlout to follow her to the edge of the ship. Beneath them, close to the surface of the sea, two dragons hovered, waiting for their masters to hop back down on them. As Astrid secured herself onto Stormfly's back and instructed the dragon to fly low away from the dragon trapping vessel, she asked Snotlout, "So, if you think this is such a dumb idea, then why did you come?"
The dragons ghosted the oceans just above the water, below the deck of the ship, and hopefully leaving the area without any notice from non-Hooligan eyes. Astrid could feel the spray of white water waves against her face. Just far enough away to be specks in the distance from Drago's ships, Stormfly and Hookfang alighted on a large iceberg floating halfway between the Visithugs and the Hooligans, and both the riders dismounted, Astrid far more fluidly than Snotlout.
"I don't know," Snotlout said. "Because it seemed more interesting than just sitting on the Sparrowhawk?"
"Well, remind me next time to leave you behind. You've been talking too much. We're trying not to get caught."
"Oh, I'm talking too much? You're responding to everything I'm saying. You're talking just as much as I am and –"
Astrid pulled her axe up threatening to Snotlout's chest. The handle covered half his vision, an enormous, slick silver blade wavering right before a pair of startled blue eyes. Snotlout obsequiously shut his lips.
"Thank you," she muttered under her breath, and stepped away from him.
At that point in time, both of them heard the unmistakable rustle of flapping dragon wings, looked skyward, and watched a two-headed green Zippleback dragon descend alongside a bumblebee-like brown, grinning, drooling Gronckle.
"What took you so long?" Astrid asked once the three new arrivals landed beside them. "I thought you would have beaten us here by a long shot. Someone –" Astrid glared at Snotlout "– almost got us caught, and we had to wait in the corner of a ship before we were safe to leave."
"Oh, he's got nothing on Ruffnut," Tuffnut asserted. "My idiot sister here is to blame for us being late."
"She might have accidentally knocked out one of the men on board," Fishlegs squeaked queasily.
"Yeah. It was that Eret guy, too," Tuffnut elaborated.
Between the two men, Ruffnut positively sulked.
"Well, you knock me out, sweetie," Snotlout crooned from Ruffnut's side. The blonde's facial expression turned from a sulk into a horrified grimace, complete with backing away and emitting a disgusted groan. From her side, Tuffnut produced a death glare at Snotlout. His fellow Hairy Hooligan appeared not to notice any of the hostility.
"Look, I didn't mean to, alright you guys?" Ruffnut sulked. Her eyes turned dreamy as she stared into the skies. "He's just… too perfect…"
"Ruffnut was hitting on Eret?" Astrid inquired, finally picking up enough contextual information to guess.
"Literally," Fishlegs confirmed.
Tuffnut, following on Fishlegs' heels, suggested, "Don't ask for more details."
"Can I at least ask if angry Visithugs are going to be on our tails anytime soon?" Astrid queried.
"No one saw us," Fishlegs said, "and I… don't think Eret will be waking up anytime soon. He might not even remember what happened."
"What did you do to him?" Astrid gasped.
Ruffnut pouted even more.
"Okay." Astrid turned the conversation away from that topic and onto another. "Besides that incident, was there anything of interest on the ship you scouted?" After all three Hooligans spoke the negative, Astrid conceded that neither she nor Snotlout found anything noteworthy either.
"Well that's good to know," Fishlegs said optimistically. With a grin, he turned to hop back onto Meatlug. His Gronckle, seeing the husky man approach, perked up and hung her enormous tongue out of her equally enormous maw. "Sounds like we can go on back and quit worrying about Drago, can't we?"
But Astrid said, "No."
Everyone paused.
"You can all go back. But I think I want to check a few more ships."
"Astrid, we already trespassed on two of their boats. We're allies with them. If the Vigilante attacks, we want them on our good side. All this suspicion is… unhealthy… and extreme even for you."
"There's something wrong with that man," Astrid insisted, picking up her axe and weighing it in her hand. "Something incredibly wrong, and I'm going to find out why. Something felt 'off' yesterday when Drago met with the chief. I don't know what exactly, but I think he's holding back important information from us. I can't trust fighting with someone if he's going to be keeping secrets, so I figure I might as well take a peek at some of his dragon trappers, since the fleet isn't going to be taking any actions in the next two days."
"Look, Astrid, I know you're fidgety," said Fishlegs, who was so fidgety himself he could hardly hold the pommel of the saddle right in front of him with either sweaty palm, "and I know that when you're impatient you want to do something… but I don't think that trying to spy on Drago and his men is a good idea right now. Or later. Or ever."
"Well, I need to find out. I'm just going to check a few more ships."
"What is it with you and going into danger?" he complained.
"This isn't dangerous," Astrid insisted. She glanced at the others and remarked, "I'll just be leaving one ship and boarding another." And, with one final shrug that pushed her fur hood back off her shoulders, Astrid urged Stormfly to head back toward the distant fleet of ships.