All The Small Things Chapter 5
Snotlout and Fishlegs met Hiccup at the forge the next morning. Astrid's father, Gunnarr, had dropped off the wooden box there the night before, and Hiccup had been up nearly all night, modifying it to play its role in his plan to save his tribe.
The original handles on the sides were mere lengths of rope, knotted in place. He'd replaced them with substantial wrought-iron handles, rounded off so someone could carry the heavy box without hurting his hand, and firmly bolted into the wood. He'd cut an opening in the lid and filled it with an iron grid with half-inch-square openings. The parts that Fishlegs and Snotlout couldn't understand were the shallow metal cups that he'd affixed to the inside walls.
"Those were an afterthought, but they might make the difference between success and failure," Hiccup half-explained. "They'll do the job if Ruff or Tuff comes through with… oh, here comes Ruffnut now!"
Ruff shuffled toward them, carrying a small jar full of something dark. "Here's what you asked for, Hiccup," she rasped in her not-awake-yet voice. "Mom says she has no idea what you need it for, but if it'll help save the village, she'll give you a jar."
"Excellent," Hiccup smiled as he took the jar from her. "Tell your mother, 'Thank you.' Guys, take the box and follow me. We have to take it pretty deep into the forest." They followed him wordlessly as he led them to the thicket where he and Astrid had discovered the nano-dragons.
"You didn't mention thorns!" Snotlout protested.
"Sorry," Hiccup said, not sounding very sorry. "I'd pay you for going through the thorns, but the nano-dragons took my extra money. Set the box down right about there," he said as he pointed. "Great; thanks, guys. Now you need to get at least a hundred yards away so you don't scare the nano-dragons. But you have to be close enough to hear me if I call you."
"Why would you call us?" Fishlegs asked.
"He'd call me 'awesome,' " Snotlout replied, "and he'd probably call you 'doofus.' "
"I distinctly asked him why he'd call us, not what he'd call us," Fishlegs retorted.
"I'll call you so you can bring the box back to Berk once it's full," Hiccup said, as though it was obvious. "Also, if Astrid comes and tells us that the Wild Men's ship is in sight, we'll have to move fast. So keep your distance, but be ready."
"This sounds like the start of a really boring day," Snotlout grumbled. He sat on a fallen tree and slowly nodded off. Fishlegs was visually searching the nearby trees for signs of nano-dragons. The nano-dragons did not oblige him.
Inside the thicket, Hiccup pulled out the jar and poured some of its contents into the metal cups inside the box. "Mrs. Thorston always makes the best honey in the village," he said to the dragons that he hoped were listening. "I hope you guys appreciate quality." He waited until a few flies had come, attracted by the smell of the honey, and gotten stuck in it. Then he reached out with one open hand.
"Hey, little dragons!" he called. "It's me, Hiccup, your friend. I'd like to meet some of you." Nothing happened. The idea that he might be wasting his time occurred to him for the first time.
After about ten minutes, the leaves above him rustled and one nano-dragon drifted down to land in the palm of his hand. It clutched a small golden coin in its mouth. Hiccup didn't even try to take it away. He just stroked its back ridge and listened to it purr.
When the dragon was good and relaxed, he slowly put it on the bottom of the wooden box. It made as if to fly out again, but then caught sight of the flies struggling in the honey. It quickly made a meal of them. Then it paused to preen itself and get the sticky honey off its paws. In the meantime, Hiccup had attracted another nano-dragon. He soothed this one and put it right next to the first one. There were no flies for the second one to eat, but one of its kind was there and making no attempt to flee, so the second one stayed there, too. By the time Hiccup had brought a third one in, another fly had blundered into the honey.
It took him about three hours to bring 49 nano-dragons into the wooden box. Nothing he could say or do would bring any more of them out of the trees. That was when he heard Astrid approaching. "Hiccup? Where are you?"
"Here, in the thicket," he called back.
"Your father says the You-know-who's are on the horizon! They'll be here in a few hours!"
"Okay, give me a couple more minutes," he sighed. "We're one coin short, and one dragon short. Time for Plan B. You little dragons are going to ruin this island's economy!" He reached into a pocket and pulled out his last gold coin. He held it aloft and waited for about a minute and a half. Then a nano-dragon swooped down from the branches overhead, landed in his hand, and claimed the coin as its own. It took him longer to soothe this one, but eventually, he coaxed it into joining its fellows in the box. Occasional flies and other insects kept them happy, as did the sound of his voice.
"Okay, little guys. Now we'll all go on an adventure together!" He slowly swung the lid shut. He heard some scrabbling and cheeping noises, so he bent right down to the metal grate in the lid. "Take it easy, guys! I'm not going to hurt you. This might even be fun." The sound of his voice calmed the captive dragons down; it seemed that they really did trust him implicitly.
"Okay, Snotlout, Fishlegs! Come get the box! It's 'go' time!" They made their way through the thick undergrowth and picked up the wooden box. "We'll bring it back to Berk and deliver it to the docks," he instructed them. "Walk fast, but go gently, and do not drop it!" They carefully followed his instructions, mostly because they didn't want to dump a box full of electric-shocking nano-dragons all over themselves.
Stoick was waiting at the docks, along with the other teens and Toothless. "Did you get the gold away from the dragons?" Stoick asked anxiously.
"Uhh, yes and no," Hiccup stammered. "Yes, I got the gold, and no, I didn't get it away from the dragons. But trust me, it's going to work out okay."
"Hiccup…" Stoick was about to lose his composure. "How am I supposed to explain this to the Wild Men? I don't understand it myself! They don't like trickery and they have no patience with other tribes."
"You aren't going to explain anything to them, Dad. You put me in charge of this project, and I'm going to finish it. I'll present the gift to them and I'll do the explaining. Umm… what do I do?"
"You stay on shore while I give them the gold!" Stoick nearly shouted. "You've never done this before! Son, you're no match for those Vikings. They'll kill you if they think you're playing any kind of a trick. I won't let you take that risk."
"Dad, I'm the only one who can do it now," Hiccup answered with a bit more heat than usual. "You just admitted that you don't understand these little dragons or what they're doing. I do. Besides, the Wild Men are used to you doing things a certain way. If you shake things up, they won't take it well. But they've never met me before, so they won't know what to expect. We're definitely shaking things up this time; you can't get away with that, but maybe I can. Now, how do I do this?"
Stoick weighed the issues in his mind for a few seconds. "You and the gold ride in that dinghy. Our longship will pull you out to sea until we're near the Wild Men's ship. Then you'll drop the tow line, row over to them, look brave, present the gift, and hope they accept it. None of us is allowed to bring a weapon. Hiccup, I'm very nervous about this. You've never dealt with people like these before. They call themselves Wild Men for a reason!"
"I think I'll be okay, Dad. I've handled Dagur the Deranged twice, so I think I can deal with these Wild Men. Like you said – it'll be good training. But take Toothless on the ship with you, just in case anything goes wrong. He can help protect me, and he doesn't count as a weapon, right?"
Stoick nodded. "Now there's a part of your plan that I agree with!" Getting Toothless onto the ship wasn't easy. The last time he'd ridden on a longship with Stoick the Vast, he'd been chained up and muzzled, and Stoick had called him "devil." Times had changed, but dragons have long memories. Hiccup had to coax him onto the ship himself, then repeatedly order him to "Stay! Stay, Toothless!" while he got back into the dinghy.
The ride out to meet the Wild Men's ship was miserable. The dinghy rolled and pitched, the waves slopped over the gunwales, and Hiccup had to bail out water continuously. The dragons in the box didn't seem to mind, which was fortunate. If they began peeping in distress, the sound of his voice quickly settled them down. The other tribe's longship slowly loomed up larger as they approached it. It was designed much like Berk's longships, but it was considerably bigger, the wood was darker, and the dragon figurehead looked angrier. The men staring over the gunwales at him looked angry, too. He reminded himself that they were looking for an excuse to go to war against his people, and it was his responsibility to talk them out of it. The gold was supposed to help. Well, they'd never been talked out of war in the way he was about to use.
His father's men lowered the ship's sail when they were about 200 feet from the Wild Men. "This is as close as we get, Hiccup," his father called through cupped hands. "The rest is up to you. Are you sure about this?"
"Yes, Dad," he called.
"Really sure?"
"Yes, Dad. I'm really sure." He untied the rope that connected his dinghy to the longship, unshipped his oars, and began rowing toward the hostile ship. Arm muscles were not his strong point; it took him about fifteen minutes to cover the two hundred feet. He stopped when a rough voice shouted, "That's close enough, Berk!"
He looked up. Glaring down at him was a face that was completely wrapped in thick gray hair and a beard. To live past 50 was unusual for Vikings; to still be strong enough to lead a warlike tribe at that age meant that this man was extraordinary. Standing next to him, almost unnoticed by comparison, was an extremely short man with a swarthy complexion and curly black hair. He looked out of place among the fair-skinned, fair-haired Vikings. The other Wild Men gave them a respectful amount of space.
"You're not Chief Stoick," the man began without preamble. "Who are you?"
"I am Hiccup, firstborn son of Chief Stoick and the future chief of Berk," Hiccup answered respectfully.
"Hiccup!" the short man scoffed. "That's a good name for him! There's barely enough of him to make a toothpick for a dragon!" The other men laughed.
"That's enough, Tryon!" the leader snapped. He turned back to Hiccup. "I am Chief Gandolt the Gray of the Wild Men of the North. Why are you here?"
"I am here to renew our traditional friendship and offer you a gift," Hiccup said mildly. He gestured at the box.
"Treachery, sir!" Tryon whispered.
The chief nodded. "It doesn't take a box that big to hold fifty gold coins, Hiccup son of Stoick, and the last time I looked, coins didn't need air holes to breathe. What kind of trick is this?"
"Don't let him play games with us!" someone on the ship muttered. Someone else added, "Kill him now, and teach them all a lesson."
"We had to make some alternate arrangements to keep the gold safe until you got here," Hiccup answered carefully.
"Well, you're not bringing your 'alternate arrangements' onto my ship!" Gandolt retorted. "Whatever trick you're trying to pull, it's not going to get within ten feet of me!"
"That's fine," Hiccup nodded. "Feel free to send a man or two down into my boat, and they can look in the box and tell you that your gold is in there."
The chief had a quick, quiet discussion with his aide. "Tryon will examine this box of yours," he announced. "I should warn you, he's very good with a dagger, so if he doesn't like what he sees, you'd better jump overboard and swim fast. And if anything happens to Tryon, my spear-throwers will make short work of you."
"I'm not going to try anything, so that's fine." Hiccup brought the dinghy alongside the longship, and the dark-haired man climbed down into it. The man wasn't just short; he was a dwarf. For such a man to rise to a place of leadership among the Wild Men, he must be another extraordinary man. Hiccup realized that these Vikings had sent their best leaders to deal with Berk, which meant that the warriors on board would also be their best. He would have to play this game very, very carefully.
Tryon reached out and gave the box a shove. Peeping sounds came out. "What's in there?" he demanded.
"Dragons," Hiccup answered.
The man considered the size of the box. "Dragons?" he asked indulgently. "Really?"
"Very small dragons," Hiccup clarified.
"They'd have to be the smallest dragons in the world," Tryon said dismissively. He reached to open the lid.
"Don't do that!" Hiccup exclaimed. "You just stirred them up, and if you open the box, they'll fly away and take the gold with them. Let me settle them down first, and then you can open the box." Tryon stood impatiently, rolling his eyes as Hiccup said peaceful things to the alleged dragons in the box, then gestured to him. "Go ahead; open it. Slowly."
Tryon drew a dagger, then eased the lid open with his free hand. He looked inside.
"Well?" came Gandolt's voice from above them.
"There's gold in there," Tryon called up to him. "But every coin is in the mouth of the tiniest dragons you ever saw. If they weren't holding onto our peace money, I'd even say they were cute."
"What's the meaning of this, Berk?" the chief demanded.
"The dragons are protecting our gold so no one can steal it," Hiccup explained. "But they've gotten attached to it, and we haven't figured out a way to make them let go of it. So we brought them and the gold together."
"You Berks aren't very bright," Gandolt said archly. "Tryon, separate one of those dragons from its gold."
"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Hiccup said quickly. But Tryon had plunged his dagger into the box. They heard it strike the wood at the bottom. Then Tryon half-cried out and fell sideways, clutching his empty hand. If Hiccup hadn't caught him, he would have fallen overboard. Hiccup quickly shut the box lid with his free hand.
"I told you not to do that," he said to the short man, who quivered and offered no reply.
"What did those dragons do to my advisor?" the Wild Men's chief demanded.
"If you bother them, they hit you with a shock that feels like you've been struck by lightning," Hiccup called up to him. "They haven't done it to me, but I have been struck by lightning, so I know what I'm talking about."
"Is that... how you lost your leg?" Tryon asked him with something close to respect.
"No, I lost that in a dragon fight," Hiccup answered easily. "The dragon lost that battle, but I didn't walk away unscathed. Actually, I didn't walk away at all."
Tryon nodded. "Dragon fights... lightning strikes... you're quite a survivor."
"I owe it all to clean living, I guess," Hiccup shrugged.
"So these little dragons have to touch you to hurt you?" the chief concluded. Hiccup nodded.
"Tryon! Is all the gold in the chest?"
"It... looks that way," Tryon managed to say. "I can't count them because they're moving, but it looks like about fifty."
The chief looked thoughtful. "Hiccup son of Stoick, do you give your word as a chief's son that there are fifty gold coins in that chest?"
"I give my word as a chief's son, I personally counted fifty gold coins in that chest," Hiccup responded, puffing his chest out a little (which wasn't much).
"Then we will accept your gift, and then we'll count it on the decks of my ship, just to make sure," Gandolt decided. "If it turns out that you have deceived us... you won't like what comes next. This entire deal is totally out of the ordinary, and I'm taking nothing at face value, not even the oath of a chief's son. Tryon, Hiccup, pass the box up to me."
Tryon was still shaky from his contact with the nano-dragon, and Hiccup never had much strength to begin with. They both struggled to lift their ends of the box, which rocked back and forth as they raised it over their heads. The chief and another man took it impatiently, hauled it over the gunwale,and set it down on the deck... none too gently. Hiccup heard the fluttering wings and alarmed chirps from inside, and said nothing. One of the nano-dragons applied its shock to a bolt that held a handle on the box; the man who was holding that handle fell away with a cry. Unwilling to wait, the chief flipped the lid open to see his treasure, and the nano-dragons, no longer soothed by Hiccup's voice or presence, instantly took wing and made a beeline for their forest thicket. They formed a brown-green cloud, sparkling with gold, as they flew away across the water...
...which was exactly what Hiccup had hoped would happen.
But he hadn't reckoned on how these wild Vikings would react.
The Wild Men watched the nano-dragons escape and fingered their weapons. "Well, that's it, then," the chief decided with a slightly vicious tone. "We got no gold, so you get no peace. We're now at war, Hiccup son of Stoick. It looks like you're going to be the first casualty. Got any stirring final words before Tryon cuts your throat?"
