Life with the Night Furies Chapter 08
As the sun went down, Warhamster the Wise ordered his assistant to light the great ceremonial bonfire. Strange flickering shadows of men, tents, and tribal battle standards writhed across the landscape as the flames leaped up. It was the signal for all the chiefs (and their seconds, if any) to gather around the fire and begin the Thing. Everyone gave the huge black lizard as much room as possible. That lizard didn't wear any of the fancy furs, helmets, or other gear that the humans wore to impress each other. He was unadorned except for leather bracers on his forelegs, with his father's silver cape clasps mounted on them. He felt like he ought to wear something that made him look like a chief.
The Law-Speaker raised his hands, and all the men fell silent. He paused for dramatic effect, then began. "Chiefs, Vikings, I welcome you all to this year's Thing. I know you all have many transactions and concerns that you wish to address with your fellow chiefs. Some of you have already voiced your concerns to me, and you know that, as a Law-Speaker, I am honor-bound to remain neutral, enforce the law, and preserve the peace between us, to the best of my ability. If any of you has any doubts as to my ability to do these things, and especially as to my neutrality, then speak now!" No one spoke, of course; Warhamster was legendary for his ability to avoid taking sides.
"Very well. I shall begin, as usual, by calling the roll. Visithugs!"
A burly, one-eyed man raised his fist. "Chief Nastinardle the Kneebiter of the Visithugs is here! Fear me or fall before me!"
"Yes, we've all heard that before," Warhamster said wearily. "Several times, in fact. Uglithugs!"
"I am Chief Ug of the Uglithugs, hereditary ruler of the most violent tribe on the planet," a nasty-looking man growled. "I am the slayer of dragons, the drowner of sea monsters, the defeater of warriors, the most uncontrollable –"
"Save it for the bragging contest, please," the Law-speaker interrupted. "That happens on the fourth day. Bog-Burglars!"
Bertha stood slowly, stretched languidly, and drew all eyes onto herself. "Chief Big Boobied Bertha is here, boys," she purred. "I've brought my firstborn daughter, Camicazi, with me to see how chiefs treat each other. Give her a good show, but don't do anything that might make me angry. You know what happens when Bog-Burglars get angry."
"Yes, we do," Warhamster nodded. "Our money bags, our weapons, and our undershorts all go missing. Murderous!"
Two men stood. "I am Gumboil, personal servant to Chief Madguts of the Murderous," one of them said. "Madguts is not speaking in public this month, as a protest against his wife giving him the silent treatment, so I will speak for him. He says, 'G-r-r-r.' "
Warhamster nodded again. "Duly noted. Berserkers!"
A huge man with an especially wild beard stood. "I am Chief Pugpoodle the Hirsute, newly elected chief of the Berserkers. I have no need to boast or brag; my tribe's reputation speaks for itself."
"Madguts wants to know what happened to Chief Dagur the Deranged," Gumboil cut in.
"I want to know what happened to Chief Oswald the Agreeable!" Ug interrupted.
Pugpoodle faced them in turn. "Chief Oswald was... forcibly retired on the orders of his son, Dagur, who then assumed the chieftainship. He launched an ill-considered attack on Berk, which we will be discussing soon. That war nearly ruined the entire tribe. We handed Dagur over to Berk as a means of ending that war; what became of him after that, I don't know and I don't want to know. The surviving tribal elders elected me to be the temporary chief, and they made it permanent two months ago."
"Thank you, Pugpoodle," the Law-Speaker said. "Congratulations on your ascension. Bashem-Oiks!"
A short, bald man stood. "I am Chief Kurlee the Stooge of the Bashem-Oiks." He spun his axe over his head, making "Whoop, whoop, whoop!" noises.
"Oh, a wise guy," Warhamster commented. "Lava-Louts!"
There was no response.
"Lava-Louts?" the Law-Speaker asked, puzzled.
"I haven't seen any Lava-Louts all day," Pugpoodle answered with a scowl. "They'd better show up! I'm counting on their support for an issue I'm going to raise."
"You're right, they'd better show up!" another one-eyed man chimed in. "Chief Lunklunk owes me money from a bet he lost. I hope he didn't skip the Thing just to avoid paying me."
"That's very odd," Warhamster nodded. "They were one of the first tribes I visited, and they said they would definitely be here because they wanted to make some changes to the slave-trade laws. Well, we'll keep going, and see if they put in an appearance. Meatheads!"
The other one-eyed man shouted, "I am Mogadon of the Meatheads, and don't any of you ever forget it!"
"We won't, we promise," muttered the Law-Speaker. "Every year, it's the same tired boasts! You chiefs need to learn some new methods of self-aggrandizement."
"New methods of what?" Mogadon asked, confused.
"I'll explain it to you later, and I'll use small words. Thunderheads!"
An absolutely huge man stood unsteadily, a big mug of ale in each hand. "I am Snorre the Vast, and I am the chief of the Thunderhead tribe! I am unafraid, undefeated, and un... something else, I forgot."
"What a shame. Northlanders!"
The red-haired man nodded. "I am Arngrim Dammen, and I am chief of the Northlanders. We are without equal as warriors, traders, flyting-masters, and arm-wrestlers! Who among you wants to fight a duel with me, right now? You choose the weapons, and I'll let you strike the first blow."
"Later, Chief," the Law-Speaker answered. "Let's get through the formalities first. Hysterics!"
An unsually vicious-looking man wearing fancy clothes stood. "I am Chief Norbert the Nutjob, and I rule the Hysteric tribe with my usual iron fist. Bertha, has anyone ever told you that you have beautiful eyes?"
"No," she smirked. "No one ever looked that high on me before. Law-Speaker, are we almost done with this?"
"Almost, Bertha. We have one tribe left. Hairy Hooligans!"
Chief Night Fury stood, with Rangi next to him. "This is Chief Night Fury of the Hairy Hooligans of Berk," Rangi said.
Some of the chiefs had missed the initial encounter with the Night Furies. "Are you calling yourself the chief, boy?" Mogadon demanded. "You haven't even grown a beard yet!"
"No, not me!" Rangi protested. "This is the chief." He rested his hand on Hiccup's neck.
"We don't have time for jokes, boy," Snorre the Vast rumbled. "Where's Chief Stoick?"
"Stoick fell in battle against Drago Bludvist," Rangi explained, trying to keep his voice low and manly. "His place has been taken by his son Hiccup, now known as Chief Night Fury."
"Hold it, young man," Warhamster cut him off. "Your chief's... what did the young man call himself? His acting representative told me about Stoick falling in battle, but what's this nonsense about a big black... thing... becoming your chief?"
The big black thing spoke. Rangi was about to translate when the Law-Speaker motioned with his hand for silence. "Wait! I recognize those sounds," he said shakily. "Those were the sounds that Chief Hiccup made when he was sick! Am I to understand that this... this creature made those sounds when I was in Berk?"
"We apologize for the deception, Law-Speaker," Rangi began. "The situation was too confusing; it would have taken a day just to explain it all. The chief you see before you is the chief who was in that shed, speaking to you while my brother translated for him. He really is our tribal chief."
"If the lizard is the chief, then let it speak for itself!" Arngrim Dammen demanded. "Away with this beardless boy!"
The dragon growled and rumbled. "If Madguts is allowed to have Gumboil speak for him, then why can't Chief Night Fury have me speak in his place?" Rangi translated.
"That's a fair question," Warhamster nodded. "We have always allowed a chosen servant to speak for his chief in the past. But how do we know that you're translating what this reptile is saying, young man, and not just making up your own words?"
HE IS TRANSLATING ACCURATELY
Everyone craned his neck to watch, and stared in silence as the Night Fury wrote in the dirt with his claw.
Mogadon was the first to find his voice. "It knows how to write! Are we supposed to believe that this... this lizard is as smart as a human?"
SMARTER THAN SOME HUMANS
Snorre the Vast wasn't prepared to admit that. "Law-Speaker, we need a ruling! Is this thing the chief of Berk or isn't it?"
Warhamster shook his head. "According to law and tradition, choosing a chief is handled by each individual tribe. I can neither approve nor disapprove of their choice. If Berk says that a big black lizard is their new chief, that's their business."
"But it's never been done before!" Mogadon protested.
"What's the matter, Mogadon?" Bertha purred. "Are you afraid that the lizard might be a better chief than you are?" She wasn't at all sure about this new development on Berk, but she could use it to score points off the other chiefs, so she'd withhold her judgement for now. She wondered if this might be the issue that Berk had paid her to stay neutral on.
Mogadon was livid. "I'll show you all who's the better chief, right here, right now! I challenge this lizard to a hólmgang this very night!"
Warhamster shook his head again. "You can't challenge someone to a duel unless one of you has been dishonored or offended. This... this chief-lizard hasn't done anything to offend you."
"I'm offended at its very existence!" Mogadon thundered. "Didn't you hear what the boy called it? This is a Night Fury, the unholy offspring of lightning and death itself! This is probably the dragon that half-destroyed my village four or five times a year! I don't care about the 'honor' part; I just want to c-i-l-l the N-i-t F-u-r-r-y!" Evidently, he thought that the dragon wouldn't understand him if he spelled in front of it, and he didn't care that he wasn't a very good speller.
The dragon grunted and growled; Rangi translated. "The chief declines your offer of a duel. For one thing, the legal dueling space is too small for him to fit inside. For another thing, hólmgang duels are fought with swords and shields, and he can wield neither. And for a third thing, he doesn't want you to k-i-l-l the N-i-g-h-t F-u-r-y. That's not why he came here."
"Then why are you here?" Pugpoodle demanded.
I AM A CHIEF. THIS IS THE THING.
I'M SUPPOSED TO BE HERE.
AND THANK YOU FOR TALKING TO ME
LIKE A PERSON; YOU'RE THE FIRST
CHIEF TO DO SO
"I didn't mean anything by that!" the Berserker exclaimed. "I'm not trying to give you any validity! I take it back!"
Several other chiefs looked like they were about to argue, but the Law-Speaker raised his hands for silence. "You wanted a ruling? Here is my ruling. I recognize the sounds this creature makes; they are the same sounds that Chief Hiccup made when I visited Berk. I accept that this is Berk's chief. How or why, I don't know; I don't pretend to understand everything that's going on here. But if Berk has chosen a Night Fury to be their chief, then he is to be treated like a chief until we find out otherwise."
Mogadon was still unconvinced, and Snorre stood beside him in agreement. "Suppose we demand proof that Berk has chosen this thing to be their chief?"
Warhamster shrugged. "You can demand that, if you want to. You can put it to a vote, and then I'll have to go to Berk to get the facts. Of course, that means we will have to suspend the Thing until the question of Berk's chief is settled. How many days is it by ship from here to Berk? How long will it take to settle the question there? How many days will it take to sail back here from Berk, and then start the Thing again from the beginning? Are all of you ready to be away from your villages for that long? I advise against such a course of action; we could still be here a month from now, instead of finishing our business and going home in a week."
"Whose side are you on, Warhamster?" Nastinardle demanded.
"I take no sides," the Law-Speaker said with mild anger. "I am neither for Berk nor against Berk. I am simply trying to keep this Thing from bogging down in procedural details."
Snorre put down his drinking mugs. "I'll give you procedural details!" he thundered. "We've let a dragon into our midst! Maybe the rest of you have forgotten how Vikings are supposed to treat dragons, but I haven't!" He unslung his two-handed great-axe from off his back, lunged at the Night Fury with a roar... and fell flat on his face as the dragon fired a small firebolt that scooped out the ground from where the big man's foot was about to land. He struggled to his feet, partially stunned from the impact of his chin with the ground, but still brandishing his axe. Chief Night Fury lashed his tail from side to side and began building up a full-strength firebolt. The other chiefs edged away from him even further, and those who had shields nearby grabbed them and raised them. Rangi took cover behind his chief; he was having second thoughts about this whole Thing.
Gumboil pointed angrily. "Madguts says, if that thing is a chief, then it just broke the law! It attacked another chief, and broke the law of peace while the Thing is in session!"
"Yes!" Snorre bellowed. "It needs to be punished for breaking the law!"
"If anyone broke the law," Bertha cut in, "it was Snorre! He threatened Berk's chief and charged at him with his weapon drawn. Chief Night Fury acted in self-defense, and he didn't even hit Snorre to do it."
"Are you taking the dragon's side, Bertha?" Arngrim Dammen asked dangerously.
"Enough of this!" Warhamster shouted. It was the first time in years that he had had to raise his voice. "I'll be the first to admit, this is a strange situation. But the Thing is in session, and the law of peace is in effect. Snorre, Night Fury, stand down! Both of you!"
"Very well," Snorre rumbled reluctantly. "Because you say so, I will stand down... for now." He turned and stalked back to his place. Chief Night Fury nodded, backed off a step, and let his fires dissipate, but he didn't lower his guard.
"The roll has been called," the Law-Speaker said, switching back to his formal voice. "All tribes are accounted for except the Lava-Louts. This Thing is legally in session. We will begin the formal proceedings in the morning. In the meantime, you are free to engage in informal proceedings of your own choosing. I will remain on duty until my tankard is empty, in case an impartial judge is needed." That was a transparent request for the chiefs to take turns refilling the Law-Speaker's tankard, just to be sure he would stay on duty.
The various chiefs broke up into pairs and small groups to discuss the issues they would formally resolve the next day. Chief Night Fury didn't expect anyone to join him. But, to his great surprise, Bertha fended off Chief Kurlee and made her way toward the Night Fury, followed by a short teen-aged girl in a black burgling outfit and a wild tangle of blonde hair. There was no mistaking Camicazi.
Grunt, snarl, growl. "He says he's surprised that you're joining him," Rangi interpreted.
"It's a good way to keep Kurlee at a distance," she said with a trace of a grin. "He's desperate to arrange a treaty with me, and stop my warriors from cleaning out his tribe's food storage every two weeks. I want him to stay desperate a little longer, so I'll get better terms when I do start negotiating." She paused. "Also, this might be the first time I've ever dealt with a chief who wasn't undressing me with his eyes while I talked to him. That will be a nice change, believe me!" She glanced pointedly at Rangi, who turned red and looked the other way.
"Berk has always been our faithful trading partner," she went on. "Is that going to change, now that you're in charge?"
I PLAN NO CHANGES. WE BENEFIT
FROM TRADING WITH YOUR TRIBE
"That's a relief," she nodded, then stared at him. "Are you really the chief?" He nodded. "Why did your tribe pick a dragon to lead them?"
He growled and rumbled; Rangi translated. "It was him or Spitelout. The Vikings preferred a Night Fury over a knucklehead."
She smiled. "I've met Spitelout. Your people probably made a good choice." She lowered her voice and spoke directly into the Night Fury's ear flap. "I'd like to talk to you about a problem I'm having with Kornfritter Island. It's part of our island chain, but the Uglithugs are claiming it for themselves. If you'd help us chase them off the island and return it to the Bog-Burglars, we could make it worth your while."
Grunt grunt rumble. "He says, 'Are we going to be allies?' "
"I don't know about that," she said, "but we're both outsiders at this Thing; we might as well be Outcasts. It might benefit both of us if we stuck together. Speaking of benefits, your man promised me three more of those special swords."
The dragon hooted and growled at Rangi, who nodded and ran back to where their gear was stowed (and where Full-of-surprises and Smith-flies-for-fun stood watch over it). Then he wrote,
BERK STILL KEEPS ITS PROMISES.
THOSE ARE DRAGON-FORGED SWORDS.
NO ONE CAN MAKE THEM EXCEPT US
"If you say so," she nodded. "All I care about is that they stay sharp and they don't bend." Rangi returned with three blades in their scabbards. She handed one to Cami, who drew it, swung it back and forth, and began shadow-fencing with it, and took the other two herself. "I'll examine these in the daytime. But for now, we'll say that our deal is on. You tell me when you want our neutrality, and you'll get it."
YOU'LL KNOW. I THINK IT
WILL BE VERY OBVIOUS
After a few seconds of awkward silence, Bertha and her daughter strolled away toward her own tent.
"This is an awesome sword," Camicazi said softly. "Nothing against our own smith, but this is going to be my number-one blade from now on. But I never owned anything that was made by a dragon before. Can we trust them?"
"Berk has always been run by lawful-good types," Bertha answered. "They'll keep their promises. Whether we work with them or take advantage of them is up to us. What did you think of that little encounter?"
Cami thought for a moment. "The boy is kind of cute. I wonder what ever happened to Hiccup."
Bertha had to smile. "The chiefs obviously weren't paying attention, and I guess you weren't, either. The boy said that the dragon is really Hiccup."
Cami stopped walking abruptly. "Umm... Mother, I'm pretty sure I remember what Hiccup looks like, and that's not him."
"We know just about nothing about Night Furies, and this might be one of those things that we don't know. Maybe you can get a chance to talk to him and figure this out."
"I'll try that," Cami nodded. "But if he isn't really Hiccup, then those bracers with the silver clasps are mine, all mine! I never burgled anything off a dragon before."
"That's my girl," Bertha said approvingly with a maternal pat on the shoulder.
Chief Night Fury watched them go, and made a mental note of where their tent was. "That whole thing could have gone a lot better, sir," Rangi decided.
"It could have been much worse," Chief Night Fury replied. "No one is dead, no one is hurt, no one declared war on us. Yet."
"Do you think it's wise to trust Big B- I mean, Chief Bertha?" he wondered.
"I not trust her. She steal my undershorts when I not looking, except I not wear undershorts anymore. Keep eye on yours, Rangi. But she right about us needing friends. We not antagonize her. We should sleep, see what tomorrow brings."