The Black Sphere Chapter 2

Hiccup, or rather Chief-night-fury, had successfully negotiated a trade deal with Chief Nastinardle of the Visithug tribe. Now it was time to put the deal in writing.

Growl growl, rumble snarl. "The chief says I should call for one of Berk's Vikings who can read and write," Rangi translated. "That Viking will write out the terms of the deal, and when you've read them and verified that everything is as it should be, you can sign it. I am authorized to sign on Chief-night-fury's behalf."

"Why can't he sign his own treaty?" Nastinardle demanded.

For an answer, Chief-night-fury held up a paw and wiggled his claws, which were easily six inches long, and which visibly alarmed Nastinardle. "Writing on small sheets of parchment is something that our chief just can't do anymore," Rangi explained. "He can write on the ground, if you don't mind runes that are a foot high, but one sheet of parchment wouldn't hold a single rune of his name, never mind a whole treaty. That treaty is legally binding if I sign it for him, so why does it matter?"

"Because I say it does!" Nastinardle growled and stood up. "Where I come from, Viking chiefs sign their own treaties; they don't entrust such important matters to underlings. Either your chief signs the deal, or we have no deal."

For the third time, the Night Fury turned and stomped away toward the door. But this time, Rangi stopped him and whispered in his ear for a few seconds. Chief-night-fury nodded and let out a low, chuffing laugh. Then he ran for the exit and took wing.

"Is he really walking out of the deal?" the Visithug chief wondered. "My final offer was more than fair."

"No, he's making some alternate arrangements so he can sign it," Rangi explained. "He says you should wait here and enjoy the mead until he sends a messenger to tell you that the treaty is ready for you to sign." He followed his chief out the door.

"This whole deal is strange," Nastinardle muttered, "but we need that wood, and I can't complain about the mead." He refilled his mug and joined a few of Berk's fishermen to swap seafaring tales.

About twenty minutes later, Rangi returned. "Chief Nastinardle, the treaty is almost ready for you to sign. Will you join us at the docks?"

"The docks? That's no place to sign a trade agreement! What's wrong with signing it right here?"

"Well," Rangi said hesitantly, "due to certain unusual circumstances, the chief thought it would be best to –"

"Circumstances?!" Nastinardle nearly blew up. "I'm a whole man, and none of you is going to circumstance me, and if I see so much as a dagger drawn in my direction, I'll... I'll... I'll make you sorry! Now bring that treaty in here so we can sign it, and no more excuses!"

"As you wish," Rangi shrugged, and left. Ten minutes later, he returned, followed by Chief-night-fury and six burly Vikings who were carrying some kind of huge rolled-up fabric. They unrolled it across several tables and stepped back. Chief Nastinardle stared, and nearly fell over.

"What?! What kind of game are you trying to play? That's the sail from my ship!"

Rangi permitted himself a small smile. "Chief Nastinardle, if you take another look, you'll see that the terms of our new trade agreement are written on the back of the sail. It's a large but legally binding document, and it's big enough for our chief to sign. Speaking of which..." He pulled out a bowl of black ink and held it out to Hiccup, who dipped a claw in it and signed his name in runes a foot high. "Your turn, sir."

Nastinardle took five minutes to read and verify the huge contract; he had to keep shifting positions so he could see all the runes. At last, he dipped a quill in the bowl of ink and signed his name. He tried to write bigger than Hiccup had done, but he wasn't used to writing that large and his runes looked rather sloppy.

"It's a deal," Rangi intoned. "Chief Nastinardle, you can send your longships anytime to collect your wood, and you can send our payment in fish and furs then, or at any time before then." Chief-night-fury held out a paw for the human chief to shake, but Nastinardle shrank back.

"Hey!" he suddenly exclaimed. "How am I supposed to store this so-called document? It's bigger than my entire storage closet!"

Croon, snarl. "He says you're the one who insisted on a document big enough for our chief to sign, so you deal with it. Vikings, roll up this sail and take it back to the Visithug ship so their chief can sail home again." The Vikings complied. Nastinardle was left behind in the Mead Hall, scowling and talking to himself about dragon chiefs and their insane ideas. He eventually followed his sail to the docks, watched as his men remounted the sail on the mast, and returned home, grumbling all the way.

Chief-night-fury blew out a sigh of relief; he'd gotten through another Viking confrontation without violence. Now it was time to check in with his daughter, the Alpha of the island's dragons, and make sure no situations there had arisen that might need his involvement. He took wing and flew straight up for nearly a mile. At that height, he was far too high to identify individual dragons; he went for the altitude simply because it was fun. After gliding lazily for a few minutes, he spiraled down until he spotted Night-fury-full-of-surprises dealing with a pair of Nadders over some issue that was important to them. He flew in circles until the situation had been resolved, then dove and landed next to his daughter.

"Hi, Dad." Even if he'd been trying to startle her, he would have failed; it was nearly impossible to surprise her. Maybe it was an aspect of the name he'd given her.

"Is everything under control?" he asked.

"For the moment, yes," she replied, with a partial eye-roll that suggested impending trouble.

"What does that mean?" he wondered.

She sat down. "Well, it seems that all the young Night Furies have gotten together, with my twins as the ringleaders, and they've formed something they call a Fun Club."

"A Fun Club? For young Night Furies?" Hiccup said with a shiver. "Why does that sound so innocent, and yet so ominous?"

"You don't know the half of it, Dad!" she burst out. "So far, they've scared seven napping Gronckles awake with near-miss firebolts, buzzed the fish-sorting team and made the humans throw themselves flat on the ground to avoid collisions, and snatched Gothi's staff away from her, then dropped it from half a mile up so it completely embedded itself in the ground... and that's just this morning! I've never seen so much random mischief!"

"Hmm... I think I have," Chief-night-fury answered with a wink.

"Dad, I was never that bad... was I?"

Hiccup smiled. "Let's just say the only thing that held you back was that you didn't have any co-conspirators to encourage you. If you'd had a twin, like Bang and Six..." He paused, remembered, and shivered. "Anyway, if all the young ones are banding together, then they'll all be urging each other to try wilder and crazier stunts, and the sky's the limit, literally. In a way, I suppose this is my fault."

"How is it your fault, Dad? Did you give them any ideas?"

"No, I was just thinking," the senior Night Fury said. "When you were young and aggravating, I seem to recall saying, 'I hope that, someday, you have hatchlings who will treat you the same way you're treating your mother and me!' I didn't realize I was putting a curse on you, but it sounds like I succeeded. Maybe Gothi is the one who can help you the most. She's good at removing curses."

"Dad, this isn't funny!" his daughter protested. "I really need some ideas. Those babies are going to turn this island upside-down!"

"Okay, here's an idea. Stop treating them like 'those babies,' and start treating them like individuals. If your twins are the ringleaders, you're their mother; you can do something about them. If you catch my Smallest-boy in the act of tearing Berk apart, then turn him over to me or your mother. Do the same with Six and Faithful-brother's youngest, and with Toothless and Lady-night-fury's little boy if he joins the party. Let each set of parents do the parenting for their own hatchlings. Stop trying to handle the whole flock of them at once; that would tie any Night Fury's tail up in knots."

"You mean, break the big problem down into a bunch of smaller problems, and then solve those small problems one at a time?" Full-of-surprises visibly relaxed. "Now that's good advice! Thanks, Dad. Sometimes I get overwhelmed with all this responsibility. It can be hard to think straight."

"I know," he nodded. "Believe me, I know! And sometimes I forget that, inside that amazing Alpha, there's a young dragon who's still learning her job. I told you that you could always come to me for advice, and I meant it. I don't want to push my ideas on you; I want to give you space to be your own Alpha; but I'm always here for you."

"I appreciate that, Dad," she said softly, and rubbed noses with him. She stopped when she heard a series of rising whistles from near the center of the island. "I hear some diving Night Furies! It sounds like I'm about to put your idea into practice," she said sourly, and turned and leaped into the air.

He waited there for a few minutes to see if she would bring his youngest hatchling back to him for a scolding, a tail-smack, or some other discipline, but she didn't. Whoever was causing trouble in town, it wasn't Smallest-boy. Hiccup sighed with relief and set out to find Rangi. Of course, he took the long way, which meant going a long way up and a long way down, several times, before he actively began searching for his interpreter.

He eventually found him with his older brother Varinn and a young man whom he recognized as the lone crewman of the second ship that had visited Berk today. It looked like Varinn and Rangi were giving the visitor a tour of the town. Well, it was past time to find out what this visitor wanted. He circled in, landed about twenty feet away from them, and ambled over to join them. The visitor pulled away nervously.

Varinn made the introductions. "Chief-night-fury, this is Orn, formerly of the Lava-Louts. Orn, this is Chief-night-fury. He can understand you perfectly, so just talk to him and tell him what you want."

"The dragon understands Norse?" Orn quavered, curious in spite of himself.

Hiccup nodded.

"O...kay," Orn began. "I want... to stay here, I guess. I can work for a living and I'm not afraid of getting dirty. I'm not a troublemaker, either. Just don't send me back to my master! Please!"

YOU'RE A RUNAWAY THRALL?

"Your friends tell me that Berk has no thralls."

WE DON'T. IF YOU BEING HERE
DOESN'T START A WAR, THEN
YOU CAN STAY

"Yes!" The young man fell down on his knees and kissed the ground. Rangi looked puzzled.

"Why would him being here start a war?"

VIKINGS PAY A LOT FOR THRALLS
AND DON'T LIKE TO LOSE THEIR
INVESTMENT. THEY MAY FIGHT TO
KEEP US FROM UNDERMINING
THEIR SLAVE ECONOMY

Orn looked solemn. "Maybe I should just disappear. I don't want to cause problems for you; you've already been so kind to me."

Chief-night-fury was about to reassure him when the village lookout once again sang out, "Sail ho! It looks like a Lava-Lout ship this time."

Orn went pale. "They're coming to get me! They really want me back!"

GO NORTH.
DISAPPEAR INTO THE WOODS.
WHEN IT'S SAFE, ONE OF US WILL
CALL YOUR NAME THREE TIMES.
IF THEY CALL JUST ONCE, IT ISN'T US

"Yes, and thank you!" Without another word, he turned and ran to the north. Chief-night-fury turned to Varinn.

WHAT'S HIS STORY?

"He sounds like a typical runaway thrall who wants a better life," Varinn shrugged. "I don't think he's a liar. But one thing about his story does bother me. A couple of times, he mentioned 'the freaks' on his home island. Aside from describing the jarl who owned him, that was the only unkind word he's said. I have no idea who or what he's talking about."

WE'LL FIND THAT OUT LATER.
FOR NOW, WE HAVE TO AVOID
A WAR WHILE PROTECTING A
MAN WHO WANTS TO BE FREE.
VARINN, ROUND UP AN HONOR
GUARD AND JOIN RANGI AND
ME AT THE DOCKS

"Right!" Varinn nodded and headed for the center of town. It took about an hour for the ship to arrive. By the time they got there, twenty armed Vikings were waiting for them in four rows of five, with Chief-night-fury, Night-fury-mother-of-twins, Thing One, and Rangi in front of them.

"What's the plan, Chief-night-fury?" Rangi asked.

"Good question. How do you plan to handle this one?" Astrid asked her mate.

"I start by playing innocent," Hiccup replied in Forge, "and then I stall for time. If they ask where Orn is, I tell truth, say I don't know. If they demand our help to find him, I remind them that Berk has no thralls, so chasing thralls is their business, not mine."

"And if they get nasty about it, what will you do?" Rangi pressed him.

"I remind them, they are dealing with dragon," he said, and lashed his tail.

"Make that two dragons, you little troll," Mother-of-twins added with a sweep of her own tail that stopped a foot away from Rangi's ankles. "And I remind you that your job is translate for chief, not question him!"

"Okay, okay! That's enough of a plan for me," Rangi exclaimed as he jumped away. They waited in silence as the longship glided up to the docks.

"Greetings, honored Lava-Louts!" Rangi called as the ship's crew tied up to the pilings.

"Skip the useless chit-chat, boy," ordered a big man with multiple gold and silver rings on his fingers. He stepped easily over the gunwales onto the dock. "We are here to reclaim some missing property of ours. Where's your chief?"

"It sounds like they're getting nasty about it from the very beginning," Astrid murmured. Hiccup nodded and snarled at Lunklunk, the Lava-Lout chief.

"Chief-night-fury of Berk greets you cordially," Rangi said.

Mother-of-twins' head whipped around to stare at Rangi. "That not even close to what Hiccup said! He called human chief a –"

"If I translate him literally, we probably start war, right here," Rangi retorted, speaking in Forge so the Viking chief couldn't understand him. "He took me for this job because he thought I could be diplomatic. That is what I am doing."

"Rangi made good decision," Hiccup admitted. "I not very diplomatic when talking about slavery."

"Skip the animal noises, too," Chief Lunklunk ordered. "I'm here to reclaim a stolen ship and a runaway thrall. Viking law backs me up on both issues, so don't try any Berkish tricks. I see our ship, tied up at that dock over there. Where's the thrall?"

Grunt-growl, snap-snarl. "Chief-night-fury says the ship is yours, so you're free to take it. The man who sailed it took some of our food and ran into the forested part of our island. We don't know where he is."

"You haven't hunted him down?" Lunklunk was amazed. "I thought you dragons had great noses for tracking!"

Snarl, snarl, snarl. "The chief says he spent the morning negotiating a trade deal with Chief Nastinardle of the Visithugs, and working out problems with the other dragons on the island. He has a village to run; he doesn't have free time to do your dirty work for you."

"Rangi, that is not exactly what I said," the Night Fury growled.

"But I am sure it is what you wanted to say," the young man growled back.

"I thought you try to be diplomatic," Mother-of-twins rumbled.

"Even diplomats have to be honest sometimes. I hate thrall system as much as you do."

"Are you actually talking to those lizards?" the Lava-Lout chief demanded.

"We're conferring on some details of protocol," Rangi said, which both answered the chief's question and sidestepped his real question, namely, "What are you saying?"

"Skip the chit-chat, skip the animal noises, skip the protocol, skip everything and cut to the chase!" a flustered Lunklunk demanded. "My thrall is on your island, and I want him back! If I let him get away, pretty soon all my thralls will want their freedom, and then what will I do?"

"You'll pay your workers for their work, just like we do," Rangi answered smoothly. "It costs a little more in the end, but freemen do better work and they're much less likely to run away in the middle of a job."

"You do things your way, and we'll do things our way," the Lava-Lout chief blustered. "For generations, Vikings have relied on thralls to get the low-level work done, and the system works just fine for all of us. Just because your strange island wants to do things differently, is that any reason for the rest of us to wreck our entire economy? No, don't answer that. I don't want to hear about the strange things that happen on this island. I just want my property back. Will you hand him over, or do I have to file a complaint against you with the Law-Speaker?"

Snarl-snap, rumble. "The chief says again, we don't know where he is. We don't have enough free manpower to mount a search, especially if he's desperate and turns violent. We can't help you."

"Maybe you don't have enough manpower," Lunklunk said snidely, "but you must have enough dragon-power! I can see at least a dozen of your pet lizards resting on the roofs of houses. Give me one good reason why you can't order those dragons to find my runaway thrall!"

Grumble-growl. "The chief says he is not the Alpha over the island's dragons, and he can't give them orders."

Lunklunk scoffed. "What kind of idiot do you think I am? He's a Night Fury! Everybody knows that the Night Furies are in charge of things on this island. That has to be the lamest excuse I ever –"

"Then how about this?" Rangi cut in. "If the dragons try to catch your slave, they'll have to use their claws to grab him. When was the last time you saw a man get caught by dragon claws? Your slave won't be good for anything except dog meat after that."

"Can't the dragons drop a net on him or something?"

Rangi shook his head. "The dragons won't touch a net. They have too many bad memories of nets being thrown at them during the wars."

Lunklunk looked disgusted. "It sounds like you have an excuse for everything."

Croon croon rumble. "We have ways of doing things on Berk, and our ways work very well for us. Just because you want us to do things your way, is that any reason for us to wreck our entire situation?"

The human chief scowled; he hated it when someone used his own words against him. "Fine, we'll do it our way." He called out four Vikings' names; those men left the ship, climbed into the stolen boat, and prepared to sail it back to Lava-Lout Island. But before they untied the lines, they paused. Chief Lunklunk picked up a rope and reached into a wooden crate on his ship. He pulled out an orange Terrible Terror, whose spiked leather collar was now tied to Lunklunk's rope. He put down the Terror next to the stolen ship, pushed its head toward the gunwales, and ordered, "Do your job, Little Sniffer!" The little dragon took several sniffs, then began casting from side to side as it made its way down the docks toward the ramps. Lunklunk and six other Vikings followed him.

"Sir, if you don't mind my asking, what are you doing?" Rangi wondered.

"I'm tracking down my runaway thrall," Lunklunk answered shortly. "Like I said, dragons have good noses. I had a feeling that you wouldn't cooperate with me, so I brought my own tracker."

Hiccup spoke to the Terror. "Why are you helping that human?"

"He gives me fish when I find something for him," the orange dragon answered. "All I have to do is follow a scent trail, and I get a reward. It's easier than hunting for my own food."

"But he's not a good human!" Thing One cut in.

"He's good to me," the Terror retorted. The Night Furies had to walk ahead of the small dragon so he didn't leave them behind.

"This man wants to turn another human into a prisoner," Mother-of-twins tried to argue. "Why would you help him do that?"

"Why should I care about humans?" the Terror asked defiantly. "I don't owe them anything. As long as I can eat all I want and sleep all I want, they can do whatever they want to each other. It's no scales off my nose. Now, if you don't mind, I have work to do." He ignored them and continued following Orn's scent trail.

The Night Furies held a quick huddle. "What are we going to do?" Mother-of-twins asked. "That little dragon is bound to track down the missing thrall, and they'll take him away!"

Thing One had an idea. "If my sister and I made a string of firebolt craters, we could disrupt the scent trail so the bad men can't find the good one."

"Good idea, but no," Chief-night-fury said. "If we do anything to stop them from hunting their thrall, then they can file a complaint against us with the Law-Speaker. We have to think of some other way to disrupt them that doesn't have our pawprints all over it. Or... maybe that's it. Rangi!"

After a quick meeting, Rangi overtook Lunklunk. "Sir, because you're on Berk's territory, we have the right to make sure our laws aren't being broken."

Chief Lunklunk thought that over for a second. "I suppose you have that right. Fine! Follow us and make sure that we aren't being excessively cruel to our runaway property."

"It goes beyond that, sir. We need to be sure that he'll be treated decently when he returns to your island. If we hand him over just so you can give him fifty lashes, that would be as illegal to us as if you beat him here on Berk."

"My island, my rules," the chief said shortly.

"Will the Law-Speaker see it that way?" Rangi asked pointedly.

The chief stopped and glared at Rangi. "What do you want?"

"Sir, Chief-night-fury wants to return to Lava-Lout Island with you and verify that your thralls are treated humanely. If you'll agree to that, then we won't put any more obstacles in your way."

"Done!" laughed the chief. "If that's how you want to waste your time, then follow us home and check us out! You'll find nothing to complain about. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have work to do." He turned his back on Rangi and continued to follow his leashed Terrible Terror. Rangi trailed the hunting party; the Night Furies remained on the docks.

About three-quarters of an hour later, the hunters returned with their quarry, whose hands were tied behind his back. The Terrible Terror was being carried by one of the other Vikings, while Chief Lunklunk strode at the head of the group, looking smug.

"Don't let them do this to me!" Orn begged Chief-night-fury as they passed.

Croon, croon. "He says..." Rangi's voice broke; he looked away. "He says there's nothing we can do. If he could do anything at all, he would, but the law is the law."

"He's got the last part right!" Lunklunk smirked.

"Sometimes the law stinks," Astrid said disgustedly. No one contradicted her.