XIX.
The vessel she headed toward could have housed an entire island of Vikings. It appeared to be an island, from the distance. Several masts like the enormous tree trunks of a forest sprouted to the skies, roots buried deep in the sturdy platform of the ship, branches reaching out and hosting infinite sail-like leaves. As Astrid approached, she noticed each large sail boasted an insignia, symmetric horizontally, which appeared rather like an axe driven through the head of a Monstrous Nightmare. Ropes twisted like vines around each mast, dropping down to an expansive deck that could have been a plateau. All around it, the metal-worked heads of angry, sharp-nosed dragons, faces brimmed with spikes, decorated the bow and sides. Elsewhere, round iron bulbs grew out like blisters from the deck – the dragon traps.
Astrid advanced straight toward this ship knowing exactly who stood on board. Drago. If she chose to slip aboard some vessel, searching out hidden information, she might as well clamber aboard the center of Visithug activity.
"Quiet, Stormfly," she whispered, nudging her blue dragon downward, slipping in even closer to the ocean water. Night was descending quickly upon the seas, casting the ocean and the dragon in strange, ever-shifting combinations of moonlight and moonshadow. "Drop me off over there."
She slipped between chains, hugging darkness, creeping slowly forward to the sound of murmuring voices. Though neither man nor woman standing aboard deck were Drago, Astrid caught the mention of their chief's name, and thus paused to listen, intently. She could barely make out the words, but knew that stepping any closer would risk being sighted.
" –know what he's doing?" the woman asked in a gruff, low alto voice.
"Careful," the other soldier responded. Though the man appeared as little more than a silhouette against a backdrop of moonbeams and glittering ocean water, Astrid could read the tension in his body language. Whatever topic the two were discussing, it was clearly taboo. "He wouldn't much like you –" his voice lowered beyond Astrid's hearing "– just… with the plan, okay? ...Berk soon enough."
Astrid started.
They're talking about Berk?
I need to hear this.
"…when Berk… then we'll…" Voices cutting in and out.
Maybe a few steps closer is safe enough…
Feet inching forward.
"I don't see why we aren't heading straight to Berk right now," the woman voiced. "They're no match for our armada, especially with half their fleet here in the north."
Astrid frowned, suddenly worried at that last statement's implications. She felt her heart pounding, just a little, just enough to make her uncomfortable while crouched in the darkness.
Male voice. "Don't you see? It's tactics. Without their fleet, we would have no chance of taking out the Vigilante. But with them, we might actually have a chance at getting the…"
Astrid clenched her fist in frustration. She could not hear the last word. Have a chance at getting what?
The entire time Drago has been trying to use us?
"Eh, I suppose you're right," the female soldier responded, shrugging noncommittally under her armor. She rotated her body to head toward the aft of the ship. "I just don't fully like it, that's all."
Astrid inched backward. Conversation done. Time to go. Felt something on her shoulder. Something warm. Saw fingers. Turned around. A face. Something gray – took her an instance to recognize a halberd. Every muscle in Astrid's body froze, minus her heart, which began pounding furiously to make up the lack of movement elsewhere.
"What's this? Stoick doesn't trust us?"
Another voice from somewhere in the shadows – There's two of them? How could I miss two people? – demanded, "How much did you hear?"
"Doesn't matter now," the first man declared. "Either way, she knows too much."