CHAPTER 10: Arrival
Five years since coming to power as Chieftan of the Ancient Tribe, Alfa Yurlin, now 35 years old, held not only the authority but the upmost admiration from the Ancient vikings. And for good reason - mostly.
He quickly restored prosperity and a sense of purpose into all the vikings - building ships, crafting weapons by anvils and furnaces, introducing mandatory camping sessions for the younger vikings of the tribe, forcing the viking men to go hunting in the forests for meat and food, training with their weapons, Yurlin had done it all in the span of five years - he brought the viking lifestyle back for them.
The women of the tribe were stripped of their needs to do any of that, because to Yurlin, the women vikings were there to produce children and look after them in the huts for the future of the tribe - he considered them valuable at the hut whilst the husbands and men did the physical work and fighting.
It was undoubtedly a backwards step for the rights of the women vikings considering the likes of the Hooligans had Astrid in them, and Dagur's wife, Mala, was a female leader of the Defenders of the Wing. And across the seas Atali was the leader of the all female Wingmaiden tribe. Even Drago Bludvist's Warlords had women in their top ranks.
Despite all of that, the women of the tribe were immensely happy with their new lives under the new regime. They felt appreciated and valued despite the taking away of their ability to do physical work. They loved that they were encouraged to spend time at the huts with their children, raising them to be strong good vikings.
So Yurlin had immense popularity within the tribe despite the doubts some of the vikings had about him given his dictatorial tendencies and extreme ideologies as seen in his book he wrote. But the ideology was still precisely the volcano waiting to erupt.
Because underneath the surface, Yurlin had ordered the construction of the first punishment camp only a few months after becoming Chieftan five years ago, and since then many more were built. This was the price the Ancient vikings had to pay for the prosperity-led lives they now all (mostly) led under his leadership.
You had to say 'Our Yurlin' as the everyday greeting. You had to admire and support Yurlin and his leadership. You had to get up every morning as a kid and attend the mandatory camping sessions. Any perception that you were making jokes, talking badly, or mocking Yurlin led you to be punished by the council. And not only that, but the council had imposed a strict rule on the tribe to snitch out anyone breaching the 'law' of the tribe.
If you didn't report any of these, you'd be punished for that as well. In short, as long as you showed endless support for Yurlin and followed all of the council's imposed orders and laws, you'd live the best life. But for some vikings, the shadow of the camps hidden across the island were too much to think about. For the majority, they were able to carry on with their lives and enjoy it.
It was a day after Eret and Gobber had set sail for Ancient Island, and Yurlin was standing on an overhang at one of the hills of the island, where he was stood in clear view of tens of thousands of Ancient vikings. They were all silent as could be as the grey clouds surrounded.
Krimm Hiss and Herrick Herald were all stood behind Yurlin as he roamed left and right whilst glancing at the crowd of vikings below from the hill, making a charismatic speech with chaotic arm movements coinciding with the roar of energy from his throat. A couple of other council vikings were stood there too behind the Chieftan.
Yurlin's voice was so powerful and loud the echoes could practically be heard from any sailing boat from the shores of the island. He oozed energy.
"We have built an immense number of weapons, our army has achieved its quota in numbers and we have singlehandidly led the way in preparing for the unvikings should they dare invade our island! I promised you all that I'd provide prosperity and prosperity I have delivered! our children are being trained to live like a viking, our men are facing up to the prospect of defending our island and we have made our voice heard to the other tribes!"
"But in doing this, let me be absolutely clear to our friends across the seas on these other tribes - we are not your enemy, we are your friends," Yurlin declared, calming his tone down a bit, "we have no territorial demands to make. Our withdrawal from the treaty was only because we felt we weren't being met with the same enthusiasm we have for building an alliance against the unvikings - the vikings who led to the rise of Drago and Grimmel in the first place!"
"Our withdrawal from the treaty means nothing in the long term, but what it does mean is that I'm prepared to make decisions for our tribe that I feel is in our best interests. My fellow vikings, let me finish on this note - sooner, rather than later, we will begin the process of baiting out the unvikings among our island as they hide in the woods, sneak around our terrain at night, and when we do, they will be met with no mercy!" Yurlin concluded.
At that, a monstrous roar of cheers broke out among the tribe for their Chieftan. Yurlin nodded and waved at the ecstatic crowd below him, with a brief salute towards them from his steel spiny helmet.
Yurlin's hatred of the 'unvikings' was another looming shadow across some vikings of the tribe. It was crystal clear that Yurlin considered unvikings to be the type who led to the alienation in the past that contributed to the rise of Drago and Grimmel, and that was a notion many of the vikings supported.
But some vikings of the tribe had been sent to the camps in secret precisely because they were accused of collaborating with the 'unvikings' - it was a slippery slope. Some of the Ancient vikings were downright terrified to even speak a word or put any action wrong as a result. Nothing stopped Yurlin and the council from accusing anyone of being an unviking.
Nonetheless, it had been another productive day on Ancient island. Yurlin was delighted at the progress his conscription program had made - he introduced compulsory army engagement only two years ago, and he had a desired number for the army to reach. It was very close to hitting the number.
Inside the newly built wooden hall, which was drastically bigger than the old one prior to it burning down, Yurlin walked through the corridors as hundreds of Ancient vikings stood by, side by side, saluting at their Chieftan as he walked past. Upon reaching the big wooden doors, they were opened from the inside for him as two of the council members greeted him.
"Our Yurlin," they said to him.
He nodded at the greeting. Upon walking in, many solemn and straight faces were seen across the vicinity - not a single smile or anything other than a straight face was seen among the vikings in the hall. He walked up to his chair at the large round wooden table, already sat at by other members of the council.
"Gentlemen," Yurlin said, opening the discussion, "how goes the numbers?"
"Our Yurlin," greeted one of the council members, gently sliding a bit of paper across the wooden table in the middle of the numerous other members sat down, "this is the progess which we have made."
Yurlin reached for the paper and held it up to read.
"We're at present within our range of 30,000 vikings in the army, via conscription. We've constructed various wooden boats and ships."
"What of the weapons?"
"All the same, sir. A sufficient number of weapons have been constructed and are presently stored away. Our vikings are getting to work by building these, it's safe to say we've had the most successful five years any tribe could've had in rearming after so many years of dormancy."
The vikings in the room nodded and banged the table with their palms as a form of celebration.
"The other tribes might not want to join us in our enthusiastic push for this imminent goal, but so be it - when they see how ruthlessly we shape the future and rewind the time back to a better, realer viking era, they'll come back to us. I've no regrets about scrapping and withdrawing our tribe from the treaty, we cannot work with tribes that lack the same energy and hold hesitations about what needs to be done."
Just then, a couple of other council vikings opened the wooden doors into the room, causing everyone, including Yurlin, to look over towards them.
"Our Yurlin," they both saluted, "Chieftan, leader sir, you have a couple of visitors here."
Yurlin was puzzled. Visitors? on his island? to him, it was an insult that any random viking could just walk in and meet him whenever they saw fit - he was the leader, he made the decisions.
"...and on what authority do you barge in here as we discuss our military plans?"
The two council vikings gulped. Never did they want to get on the wrong side of their Chieftan.
"We seized their boat, sir - it's the Chieftans of the Berserkers, Wingmaidens, Outcasts, and Defenders of the Wing-"
"What are they doing, being allowed to set sail on our shores and for our coast guard to bring them onto land? have them leave, how incompetent are you fools? if they were unvikings and Drago himself, we'd be allowing ourselves to be overtaken by those venomous creatures! have them leave, now! we set up strict coast guards, we have a detain on sight policy for unvikings that sail here randomly, what are you thinking letting them back on our island?! they refused to join us in bringing the world back to the viking era because of their hesitations, send them away, now, go!"
The sweat got to the two vikings even more as Yurlin's voice was raised - nobody else in the hall dared speak up whilst their Chieftan was making his demands.
"There's also two vikings...s-sir...from the Hairy Hooligans..." one of them stuttered.
Almost instantly, Yurlin perked up.
"Hairy Hooligans?" Yurlin questioned.
"They go by the names Eret and Gobber."
Yurlin stood up from his chair and looked at Herrick Herald, his de-facto 'deputy' Chieftan.
"Herrick," Yurlin called, "the other Chieftans on our island need to leave. Meet up with them and have them acknowledge the message. They are to deport themselves, I've no interest in meeting them. If they insist on staying, forget any plea of theirs to try and do so. Have them leave."
"Yes Chieftan," Herald replied.
"Gentlemen, clear the hall. I am particularly keen to meet a couple of these Hairy Hooligans who sound like they may have close links to Hiccup."
Almost instantly, every viking in the hall sitting at the table stood up and grabbed their helmets, wooden cups of water, and headed for the wooden doors. The sound of thick brown boots bashing against the wooden floor could be heard in great numbers.
Yurlin was barring Atali, Dagur, Heather and Alvin from the imminent meeting between himself and Eret and Gobber. No longer did Yurlin respect those other Chieftans given they showed enormous hesitations about his tribe's actions towards achieving its goals. Overall, he didn't have any hatred for them to the extent he did for the Warlords and any unvikings, but the tribes did go down in his estimations.
The Hairy Hooligans on the other hand - they were the ones Yurlin was exceptionally keen to build links with. He was unhappy that his tribe had allowed a bunch of outsiders to just sail onto the shores of the island without being seized and captured for 'illegally' entering their island's territory, but that'd be another story.
Eret and Gobber could feel the tension. Walking down the dull, brown, not so modern looking hallway of the council building of Ancient Island, and the scent of pure oak, being led by Krimm Hiss to the large wooden doors, they couldn't help but feel something significant was imminent. They were indeed taken off their boats by the Ancient tribe coast guard and questioned, but Eret wasn't intimidated at all by that happening. Gobber was more or less the same.
Gobber was quite sleepy given the long sailing trip they took to get here, but he was awake enough to prepare to meet Alfa Yurlin.
"Alright," Krimm said, stopping in front of the wooden doors, "just for what it's worth, Berkians, our island's greeting is 'Our Yurlin'. It's out of respect, and I request you both to do it upon walking into the hall. The leader, the Chieftan, is waiting inside."
Eret simply looked at Gobber with a nod - there was no way he was being told what to do, not least to do something so silly and archaic and cult-like.
Krimm slowly opened the doors, and standing directly besides the long wooden table was the Ancient Chieftan himself, Alfa Yurlin. Gobber gulped at the first sight of him. Krimm led them both into the hall.
"Our Yellin'!" Gobber said, pronouncing the name wrong.
Eret didn't say a word. Not a single one. But Yurlin didn't seem to pick up on it given Gobber had said it already. They both walked in towards the hall.
"Greetings," Yurlin said, walking up to the gentlemen as he offered his hand out for a shake.
"Hi mate," Eret said, casually talking to Yurlin like he wasn't the dictatorial Chieftan of the island they were on.
Gobber raised his hand out and shook Yurlin's. Eret did the same, but he seemed to do it, once again, with a bit more of a casual manner to it.
"Have a seat, gentlemen. My name is Alfa Yurlin, I am the Chieftan of the Ancient Tribe and I have been awaiting to make contact with your tribe."
For some reason, to Gobber, he felt like he was under pressure not to mess this up at all, he felt like something bad would happen to him if he messed up any sort of procedure or whatever - probably because of what he heard the likes of Dagur say about Yurlin himself being a dictatorial Chieftan of sorts. For Eret, given his past of suffering Drago's abusive leadership, he was as indifferent as you could be in a meeting with a dictator with camps that had his own people in them.
Nonetheless, the meeting was now underway and plenty was to be discussed.