The Berserker War Chapter 02
The leaders of both of Berk's cultures met in the Nest that night for a council of war. Torches in wall sconces lit up the scene so Stoick, Spitelout, and Gobber could see; the Night Furies wrote runes in their sand table so the humans could understand them.
MY FIRST QUESTION IS, SHOULD WE
HIT THEM BEFORE THEY HIT US?
That was the Astrid-dragon, cutting to the heart of the matter as usual.
"I'm against that," Stoick answered. "There's a small chance that Dagur was just blustering, and he doesn't really mean to attack. If we strike first, we guarantee war."
"A small chance?" Spitelout scoffed. "That would be the smallest chance I've ever heard of! We all saw and heard that nutjob; he means what he says. I'm with the dragons on this one."
"That's a first," Gobber muttered.
"All right, Spitelout," Stoick nodded. "How do you suggest we strike first? The Berserkers are a week away from us by sea, or three weeks by land."
"But they're only a few hours away by air!" the town's second-in-command exclaimed. "I say we let the dragons strike first!"
THAT'S VERY KIND OF YOU
That was the Hiccup-dragon, of course. If his missing hind leg didn't give him away, his sarcastic outlook would. He went on –
IF THE DRAGONS ARE GOING TO BE BERK'S
MAIN FIGHTING FORCE, THEN WE WILL RUN
THIS WAR OUR WAY. WE'LL ADVISE YOU, BUT
YOU CAN'T GIVE US ORDERS
"Are you defying your own chief?" Spitelout demanded.
I AM THE CHIEF OF THE DRAGONS HERE
"Stoick, remind him who's in charge here!"
Stoick tried to think fast. "The boy... I mean the dragon... I mean Hiccup has a point. We Vikings don't know anything about fighting from the air. Us giving them orders would be like... like you or me telling a woman how to give birth!"
"You're talking about two separate fighting forces with two chiefs, trying to fight on the same side!" Spitelout protested. "Divided command is a recipe for disaster. Someone needs to be in overall command."
Astrid-the-dragon nudged Hiccup aside to write in the sand.
SPITELOUT IS RIGHT ON THAT POINT. WE NEED
ONE OVERALL COMMANDER, AND THAT SHOULD
BE STOICK. WE'LL FOLLOW YOUR GUIDANCE,
BUT WHEN WE FIGHT, YOU HAVE TO LET US
DO IT OUR WAY.
"Since when did the chief's subjects tell the chief when they'd obey and when they wouldn't?" Spitelout demanded.
"This is the best arrangement we're going to get," Stoick said firmly, ending that part of the discussion. "Hiccup, what are your plans for the near future?"
WE'LL PUT NADDERS IN THE SKY ALL NIGHT,
PATROLLING THE SEA AND LAND FOR
APPROACHING BERSERKERS. ONCE WE KNOW
THEY'RE COMING, WE CAN PLAN OUR ATTACKS
"That sounds good," the chief nodded. "Gobber, how are we set for weapons?"
"We 'ave plenty fer a short war," the smith decided. "I'll 'ave trouble keepin' up with demand once th' swords start gettin' bent an' we run low on spears. If I still 'ad my apprentice, I'd feel better, but my apprentice canna swing a hammer any more." He glanced at the Hiccup-dragon.
"Pick a new apprentice tomorrow," the chief ordered. "Teach him the simple skills, like tending the forge fire and sharpening blades; forget the fancy stuff."
"Will there be time fer any o' that?" Gobber asked.
"It will take Dagur a week to get home," the chief began. "Even if he had all his dragon-fighting weapons on the docks, ready to load, it would take him a day to load up, and another week to sail back here. That gives us two weeks at the very least. If he comes by land, we've got a month or more."
The Astrid-dragon wrote quickly:
SHIPS WOULD BE BETTER FOR US.
A SHIP IS A MUCH BIGGER TARGET FOR A
DRAGON, AND SINKING THE SHIP TAKES
OUT MUCH OF THE CREW AT ONCE.
"We won't have the luxury of choosing how our enemies will attack us," Spitelout said, a bit scornfully. "Dagur is calling the shots in this war. All we can do is find him as he approaches, and do our best to whittle down his forces, so some of us might survive the final attack."
Hiccup snorted; Astrid quickly stepped aside so he could write.
YOU SOUND HALF-DEFEATED ALREADY.
SOME OF US ARE NOT GIVING UP THAT EASILY
"Hiccup, or whatever you call yourself these days, you've got to be realistic!" the big Viking exclaimed. "Didn't you hear the part about his fifty thousand men?"
HE SAID HIS ARMADA HAS THE STRENGTH
OF 50,000 MEN. THAT DOESN'T MEAN HE HAS
50,000 ACTUAL MEN; HE'S INCLUDING THE
STRENGTH OF HIS SHIPS. 5000 IS MORE LIKELY.
DON'T LET HIS BRAGGING FOOL YOU
"Five thousand is still twenty times more than Berk can muster, even if all the women take up arms!" Spitelout burst out. "Hiccup, are you just seeing what you want to see?"
I'M SEEING SEVERAL DOZEN DRAGONS, EACH
OF WHOM HAS THE STRENGTH OF 10 OR MORE
MEN. I'M SEEING MY FRIENDS ON DRAGON
ISLAND, WHO WILL PROBABLY HELP US WHEN
THEY UNDERSTAND THE STAKES
He swept the sand-table smooth with his tail and continued.
WHETHER THE ODDS ARE AGAINST US OR NOT,
WE HAVE TO FIGHT. THE QUESTION IS, WILL WE
FIGHT LIKE WE EXPECT TO WIN, OR LIKE WE
EXPECT TO LOSE? I INTEND TO WIN
Stoick considered the runes in the sand, and their message. He glanced at Spitelout, then back at his son, the dragon. He let himself smile.
"At least we've still got a few real Vikings to defend this island, even if they do walk on four legs! Vikings is what we are, and we're not going to quit just because things look tough. We've got strengths and advantages that Dagur knows nothing about. Like a Nest full of clever, battle-tested Night Furies.
"If we're going to win this war, it will be with claws and dragon fire, not swords and shields. Hiccup, if you can find a way to strike at the Berserker armada on its way home, without letting them know it was us that did it, I'll turn you loose. It's time we started fighting to win!"
Both dragons quickly wrote, THANK YOU, and turned and flapped off into the night.
"Stoick, are you sure you know what you're doing?" Spitelout said nervously. "You're trusting the entire tribe and all our lives to a handful of dragons."
"Are ye forgettin', that handful o' dragons has saved the tribe once already?" Gobber challenged him. "We all watched 'em bring down the Red Death, an' I'm thinkin' they can bring down Dagur as well."
"That was just one dragon, Gobber! There are thousands of –"
"Spitelout, that's enough," Stoick said firmly. "If you don't think we can fight the Berserkers, then surrender to them tomorrow, and see how far that gets you. You're talking defeat, my son is talking victory, and I choose to listen to his kind of talk." The human side of the meeting petered out after that.
Meanwhile, the two dragons were seeking out another ally. It took them a minute to get Fishlegs to understand they wanted to talk to him in the Nest, but once he got the idea, he moved pretty quickly for a boy his size.
YOU'VE PROBABLY HEARD THAT WE'RE AT WAR
WITH THE BERSERKERS. DRAGONS ARE GOING
TO DO MOST OF THE FIGHTING. TELL US ABOUT
THE HUMAN DRAGON-RIDERS. HOW MANY?
Fishlegs looked away as he counted in his head. "I think we've got twenty-three people who have made friends with dragons and can ride them."
HOW MANY CAN BE EFFECTIVE IN BATTLE? That was Astrid writing.
He counted on his fingers. "Uhh... four?"
Hiccup smacked his head with his paw. Astrid returned to the sand table.
WHY SO FEW?
"Most of the dragon-riders just want a big, cool-looking friend. They weren't planning on going to war again. The only ones who have practiced with fire and flying tactics are Snotlout, the twins, and me."
Hiccup reached around Astrid to write:
A GOOD RIDER CAN DOUBLE THE EFFECTIVENESS
OF A GOOD DRAGON. WE'RE GOING TO BE LEANING
HARD ON YOU AND YOUR FRIENDS IN THE WEEKS
TO COME
"If there's anything I can do, Hiccup, you know I'll do it!"
START BY TRAINING SOME MORE RIDERS IN
WHAT YOU KNOW ABOUT DRAGON-FIGHTING.
WE'LL TELL YOU MORE ONCE WE KNOW MORE
"You've got it! Ooh, this is going to be so awesome!"
Astrid had to respond to that:
FISHLEGS, WAR ISN'T AWESOME, IT'S AWFUL.
PEOPLE AND DRAGONS GET HURT.
SOME OF THEM DIE.
"Yeah, well... okay, maybe 'awesome' was the wrong word. But our dragons were made to fly and breathe fire, and they're finally going to do what they're best at! I admit that's kind of exciting, even if it is a little scary."
WE'LL TALK MORE, LATER ON. GET SOME
SLEEP WHILE YOU CAN. WHEN THE FIGHTING
STARTS, WE'LL BE FIGHTING AT NIGHT
The husky young man nodded and returned home, leaving the Hiccup-dragon and the Astrid-dragon alone in their Nest.
"We're still badly outnumbered," Astrid said. "Are you sure the Dragon Island nest will join us?"
"I give it fifty-fifty odds," Hiccup replied. "Toothless has tried to keep his nest peaceful, but they're dragons and it's hard for them to give up a good fight. I know he and Guana will join us, no matter what the others do."
"That will help, but not much," Astrid answered. "We need numbers more than anything else. Where can we get more dragons to help us fight?"
"Maybe you can think about that," Hiccup decided. "I'm already thinking about how to hit the Berserker fleet, how to involve the Vikings, how to get help for wounded dragons, and half a dozen other things. I'm going to need your help in many ways."
"Can we help?" Their twins fluttered to a landing on the edge of the Nest. They were a year old now, a little over half the size of a mature Night Fury, and considered able to deal with dragon life on their own, without constant parental involvement.
"Hmmm. Why don't you fly over to your Uncle Toothless' nest, and tell him and Aunt Guana what's going on? We need some speedy messengers."
"We can do that," Young-girl-night-fury agreed, "but if we're all going to war, you'll need us to be more than just messengers."
"It's out of the question," Night-fury-mother-of-twins said firmly. "You're only yearlings! You aren't ready for battle."
"They are yearlings," New-night-fury nodded, "and they are ready for battle. Astrid, if we try to spare them, and wind up losing this war, they're as good as dead anyway. We've trained them to fly and shoot straight; they probably know more about fighting than we did when we went on our first raid. You're right about us needing numbers, and we've got two Night Furies here in front of us that we weren't even taking into account. Besides, I don't hear you trying to keep me out of battle. Aren't you worried about me, too?"
"Hiccup, I'm used to you doing crazy things, in battle and out of it," she sighed. "There's nothing I can do about it; you're going to be you, no matter what I do or say. But these are my children!"
"Yup," he nodded. "They're my children, too. And they're half me, and half you. If we try to keep them safe, do you seriously think they won't find their own way into the fight?"
She nodded slowly. "You're right about that. When I was human, I know I would have made my own warrior's path if the adults tried to keep me home. And if our young ones make their own way, we won't be able to keep an eye on them." She turned to the twins. "Fly out to Dragon Island and deliver the news to Toothless and Guana. We'll need you back here in the morning so we can start planning. Congratulations – you just got promoted to 'fighting dragons'."
"Awesome fighting dragons?" Young-boy-night-fury asked eagerly.
"The 'awesome' part has to be earned," their father said solemnly. "Your mother and I will be more impressed if you follow orders than if you take crazy chances. Step out of line, and we'll demote you to babysitters for your little sister."
"We'll be good! We'll be good!" Young-boy-night-fury exclaimed. His sister seemed to be weighing the pros and cons of the idea.
"Go on, kids! Get going!" Hiccup urged them. They sprang into the air and disappeared into the darkening sky.
"I'd be lying if I said I wasn't nervous about this," Astrid said quietly.
"You and me both," Hiccup nodded. "But this war has been forced on us. It's all or nothing." Then he suddenly smiled. "The good news is, I just figured out how we can give Dagur a little going-away present without signing Berk's name on it."
o
A/N I'm sure a lot of you readers are thinking, "Hey, he promised us action! He promised us dragon fire! All they're doing is talking!" Sorry; I had to set up the story first. But the story is now set up. The dragon mayhem begins with the next chapter.