Life with the Night Furies Chapter 14

A week later, it was fair to say that the Barbaric Archipelago was in an uproar, the likes of which it had never seen. All seven of the tribes that wanted war with Berk – the Berserkers, the Northlanders, the Thunderheads, the Bashem-Oiks, the Uglithugs, the Lava-Louts, and the Outcasts – had been incapacitated by repeated dragon raids. Only a handful of their buildings had been touched, and casualties among the warriors were extremely light. But their fleets of ships were lying on the bottom of the North Sea, and most of their women were languishing in captivity on Berk. Compared to the days of the dragon wars, it had been an almost bloodless campaign... and, compared to the days of the wars, the dragons were winning by a much bigger margin. In spite of the Vikings' best efforts, the combined tribes had managed to kill precisely three dragons and wound perhaps a dozen more. In return, the dragons and Vikings of Berk were bringing all seven tribes to their knees, economically and socially.

On the Visithugs' island, the Thing had been cancelled by unanimous vote of the chiefs who remained (all four of them). The seven chiefs of the pro-war party had all left early to deal with the crises that their actions had caused, taking whatever shipping they could find. Hiccup of Berk had left when war was declared against him, and Bertha of the Bog-Burglars had mysteriously vanished a few nights later. That left only Nastinardle the Visithug (who was already home), Madguts the Murderous, Mogadon the Meathead, and Norbert the Hysteric. The four thanked Warhamster the Wise for his time, formally ended the Thing, and waited for the ships from their own tribes to arrive, bearing bad news about Berk's latest raid.

But the ships didn't come. The Visithugs and their guests were cut off from news of the world around them; the remaining chiefs were mistaken when they thought that Berk was sinking their ships and taking their women away, as they had done to the more warlike tribes. As for their own tribes, those Vikings had no idea that war had been declared against Berk, or that their chiefs were stranded among the Visithugs with no way of getting home. As far as they knew, the Thing was running normally, and their chiefs would probably return in a week or less. They had no reason to send ships to fetch their chiefs home, so they didn't.

One of those tribes was the Meatheads, and in Chief Mogadon's absence, the Meatheads were being ably run by his second-in-command and oldest son, Thuggory. Thuggory was big, strong, and skillful with his weapons, but he had two defects that kept him from being the perfect Viking: he was somewhat more intelligent than average, and he was open to new ideas. The other Meatheads wondered how a brick-brain like Mogadon could have produced such a son. Thuggory didn't worry about what other people thought of him. He knew who he was, he knew what he was destined to be, and he was focused on preparing for the day when he would step into his father's shoes and rule the Meathead tribe.

Tonight, he was strolling lazily around his town, his brand-new Berk-made sword hanging comfortably on his hip, making sure that the night watchman kept moving and stayed alert. It had been a fairly relaxed week so far; no crises had arisen that he couldn't handle. The only oddity was that the weekly Visithug trading ship was two days overdue. Sailing ships couldn't move to a rigid schedule, but two days was how long it usually took for the ship to get here from there; to be that late was strange. He was looking forward to the ship's arrival this time because it would probably bring some news about the Thing. His father had hinted that something big was in the wind.

In the wind... he felt a sudden downdraft. He looked around at the night sky to see if a storm was blowing up; there were no storm clouds in sight, and the wind stopped as soon as it started. What was going on? Then he heard a muted thump from behind a nearby barn. He quietly drew his sword and peered cautiously around the corner of the barn.

All he saw was a young man leaning casually against the barn, watching him with a smile. Thuggory didn't recognize him. "Who are you?" he demanded. "And what are you doing here?"

"I'm Varinn, son of Gunnarr, of the Berk tribe," he said easily as he straightened. He was wearing a sword that looked a lot like his own, but he wasn't making any hostile moves. "I'm here to offer you an opportunity."

"Do you always sneak into other tribes' villages like a spy?" Thuggory demanded.

"Only when my message is for your eyes and ears alone," Varinn replied. "Did you ever ride a dragon?"

The sheer ridiculousness of that question stopped the big Meathead in his tracks. "I've killed a couple of dragons," he said cautiously, "but I never even tried to ride one. That sounds like something you'd do if an attack went wrong. Why would I want to?"

"I can think of a few reasons," the Berk man said. "It's a quick way to get from here to there, it shows everyone else in the tribe how brave you are, it adds the dragon's firepower to your weaponry if you want to attack something... and it's the most awesome thing you can do this side of Valhalla. Think for a second, Thuggory. When was the last time the dragons attacked your tribe?"

"It's been a few years," Thuggory admitted. "I figured they were picking on other tribes, but they'd be back for us eventually. Why? Have you ridden a dragon?"

"How do you think I got here?" Varinn said lightly. Instantly, Thuggory was on his guard, looking all around. "You can relax, Thuggory. He won't hurt you, and you'll never see him in the dark unless he wants you to see him."

"My night vision is pretty good," Thuggory cautioned him.

"I'm sure it is," the Berk man nodded, "but have you ever seen a Night Fury?"

"Of course not! Nobody has ever seen a Night F... wait a second. Are you telling me you got here on a Night Fury? You rode on a Night Fury?"

"I'm telling you that you can ride a Night Fury tonight if you want to," Varinn said, as though this impossible feat was something he did every day. "You'll be the first Meathead ever to even see a dragon like that... and then you'll be the first Meathead to get a view of your village from the air! Think about what that could mean when you're trying to make the rounds of your town at night. Think what that could mean when it's time for you to take over your tribe."

Thuggory didn't have to think too hard about that. The one sore spot in his life was that he couldn't get out of his overbearing father's shadow. No matter how many expeditions he went on, no matter how many battles he won, no matter how much plunder he brought home, his father Mogadon always did him one better, or claimed that he did. But Mogadon had never ridden a dragon – Thuggory was sure of that! This might be his big chance to make a name for himself. Or it might be his big chance to get eaten alive.

"How can I be sure that this alleged dragon won't turn on me?" he demanded.

"For one thing, the dragon wars have been over for several years," Varinn answered. "The nest-queen who made them attack us is dead, and now, all they want to do is eat fish, sleep, and go flying for the fun of it. For another thing, this dragon is as intelligent as we are, and he fights only when he has to. Actually, I think he's smarter than I am. I'll introduce you to him if you'll put your sword away."

Very slowly, Thuggory slid his blade back into the scabbard. He folded his arms and tried to act nonchalant about being formally introduced to a Night Fury.

"That's better," Varinn said. "Now look to your left." Thuggory did so... and gasped in shock, in spite of himself. Not ten feet away, a huge pair of pale-green eyes was watching him. His hand darted toward his sword out of habit; by sheer force of will, he stopped himself from drawing. The eyes blinked twice and resumed watching him.

"Thuggory son of Mogadon, this is Night-fury-makes-one-heck-of-a-bang, son of Chief Night Fury," Varinn went on. "I guess that makes him your social equal. He earned that name during the Berserker War when he blew up one of their secret weapons. We call him Bang for short."

"How long has he been watching me?" Thuggory asked, keeping his voice from quavering. Nothing and no one had ever gotten that close to him unawares!

"He's been standing there all along, but with his eyes almost completely closed. Like I said, you'd never see him in the dark unless he wanted you to see him."

The young Meathead stopped to think (which was an unusual reaction from a Meathead in any situation). Varinn said that this Night Fury was a peaceful dragon, but it bore a warrior's name. Blowing up another tribe's secret weapon didn't sound very peaceful (although anything that weakened the Berserkers was good in Thuggory's book). Either Varinn was lying, or the dragon was an unlikely mix of traits... much like himself. Varinn wasn't lying about how hard it was to see a Night Fury in the dark; the dragon was within spitting distance, but all he could see was those eyes. They weren't hostile eyes. At least, they didn't look evil. How could you tell with dragons?

"Okay, let's talk business, Varinn son of Gunnarr. What's the deal you're offering me, and what do you get out of it?"

Varinn gestured toward the dragon. "The deal is, you go for a ride on Bang tonight. I can ride with you, or you can ride him solo; it's your choice. He understands Norse perfectly, so you can tell him to fly fast or slow, high or low, tame or crazy... whatever you want. The idea is for you to see the advantages of having friendly dragons around, so when you become the chief, maybe you'll let a few of them move in.

"What does Berk get out of it? Some of the tribes have declared war on us because they're afraid we'll use our dragons against them." As Thuggory stiffened, Varinn quickly added, "Your tribe isn't one of them! We bought your neutrality with that sword you're wearing. The other tribes are finding out what it means to fight the dragons under intelligent leadership. They're probably wishing they'd been smart and stayed out of it, like your father did. Anyway, we're about to take some steps to bring this war to an end. But we're afraid that the same thing is going to happen again in a year or two, over and over and over again.

"Our end-game is to spread the good word about dragons to as many tribes as we can. Once you think of them as friends and allies instead of as death-dealing enemies, you won't be afraid of us, because you'll be just like us in that regard. Once you're not afraid of us, you'll stop declaring war on us, and we'll have the peace that we want. That's our long-term goal."

"I can't imagine my father ever agreeing to letting dragons live here," Thuggory growled.

"That's why we're making this offer to you and not to him," Varinn said. "None of the current chiefs will ever allow such a thing; the memories of the dragon wars are too fresh in their minds. But the sons of those chiefs? We've seen from experience that you're more open-minded and willing to consider new things. If you decide that the dragons aren't so bad, you'll never change your father's mind, but on the day when you become the chief, that's when things can start to change."

"That isn't going to happen for years!" Thuggory objected.

"We can take a long view," Varinn shrugged. "We Vikings don't live that long, but the dragons do; they're not in a hurry. And they're the ones who are in charge on Berk. We may have to fight a few more wars before real peace finally happens, but the only alternative is war without end. We're going to permanently change the way Vikings think about dragons, one chief's son at a time."

"Starting with me?" Thuggory asked.

"Actually, you'll be the second chief's child to ride a dragon and see the advantages."

"So another tribe is already thinking about letting the dragons in?" Thuggory considered that. If Berk's plan worked, then every tribe would have dragons, and the Meatheads would be on the same footing as everyone else. But if it only worked half-way, then some tribes would have dragons and some wouldn't. The ones who had them would have a big advantage over the others. That, in itself, was enough of a reason to think this over...

...and that was the moment when the night watchman rounded the corner and saw his chief's son standing next to a stranger and a huge black reptile.

He had barely begun to heft his throwing axe when Thuggory shouted, "No weapons! Hold your weapons!" The dragon hissed and backed off; Varinn rushed to its side. Thuggory added, "Don't sound the alarm!" That left the stunned night watchman with no options except to stare at the bizarre scene in front of him.

Thuggory looked around. The dragon hadn't attacked when threatened. The Berk man had moved to protect the dragon. This didn't add up... if he thought of things the way he'd always thought of them. The only idea that made any sense at all was that Varinn was telling the truth about this dragon, which meant he was probably telling the truth about everything else he'd said. What had he said about riding on a dragon? "It's the most awesome thing you can do this side of Valhalla."

He turned to the night watchman. "Stand at ease. I'm glad you're here. You'll be the witness to what I'm about to do." He stepped toward the Night Fury, which didn't back off. "Varinn... how do I do this?"

"Sit astride his shoulders and hold on with your legs. He won't let you fall, and he can catch you if you manage to fall off anyway. Tell him where you want to go, and what kind of a ride you want. And don't close your eyes; you won't want to miss a thing!" He backed away as Thuggory son of Mogadon hesitantly climbed onto a dragon's back.

My father would kill me if he knew about this, Thuggory thought.

The initial leap into the sky startled him. "Whoa! Go easy!" he blurted out. Instantly, the dragon leveled off and glided at low altitude. "Wow. You really do understand me! Okay, you can go a little higher." The dragon did so. Varinn was right about it obeying him... or was it a he instead of an it?

He chanced a look around. The whole village was spread out beneath him. He couldn't make out many details in the dark, but he could easily see the watchman's torch. That meant the building next to that torch was the barn; from there, he figured out what all the other buildings were. His father's longhouse, the Mead Hall, the sacred grove, the docks... he could see it all. If he could do this on a routine basis, it would make it infinitely easier to keep an eye on the village at night!

Then he remembered the kind of dragon he was riding. "Okay, if you're really a Night Fury, then show me what you've got! See that rotted-out rowboat on the shore just ahead? Take it out!" The dragon grunted, gained some height, then went into a shallow dive. He heard that rising whistle that had always meant impending disaster. Then a brilliant purple firebolt lanced out of the creature's mouth and traced a straight line to the rowboat, which vanished in a blinding ball of light. When they overflew it a second later, nothing was left but a few smoldering coals.

"Wow! That was a good shot!" Thuggory burst out. "We were at least a hundred yards away!" He patted the dragon's neck. It turned its head back to smile at him.

As his night vision returned, he looked up and saw a hole in the clouds. He pointed at it. "Can you fly high enough to go through that hole?" he asked the dragon. "I want to see some stars tonight." The Night Fury angled up and flapped harder, taking them through the hole in the clouds with ease.

When they returned to the village half an hour later, Thuggory was very windblown and slightly humbled. "Okay, I'm convinced," he said to Varinn. "Dragons are surprisingly cool. What happens next?"

"Every two or three new-moon nights, someone from Berk will bring a dragon here so you can keep this memory fresh in your mind," Varinn said. "They won't all be Night Furies; you'll get a chance to ride all the common types and see what their strengths and weaknesses are. This will continue until you take up the chieftainship of the Meatheads, and decide whether you want dragons here full-time."

"I'll try those other types," Thuggory nodded, "but I don't think any of them could satisfy me. Not after I've ridden a Night Fury!"

That was when the dragon and the Berk Viking really shocked him. The dragon growled and snarled for a few seconds... and the Viking made dragon noises back at it.

"What are you doing?" he quavered.

"We're having a discussion about what you just said," Varinn answered.

"You can... you can talk to him?"

Varinn smiled. "Bang, here, helped invent a language that both humans and dragons can speak. It's not much more than a trade language, but we can communicate with each other. If you decide you like the idea of having dragons around, we can teach you how to talk to them."

"This kind of thing could change the entire tribe," Thuggory observed.

"A lot of Vikings will resist that kind of change, Thuggory. It won't work unless the chief is completely in favor of it. They'll have to follow where you lead. Most of them will change their minds once they see the advantages of dragon friends in their own backyards. Some will never change, but from what we've seen, those people are a small minority. Most people get along just fine with dragons, once they've had a chance to try it."

"And then we'll have peace with every other tribe that accepts the dragons," Thuggory nodded, "and a big advantage over the tribes who don't accept them. And I'll get to go flying any time I want... wow. Just out of curiosity, what were you two saying to each other a minute ago?"

"Bang asked me if your reaction to riding a Night Fury was typical for a human. I assured him that it was. He said that you might eventually get your wish about riding a Night Fury some more. If the dragons move in here, that means they'll start a new nest, and every nest needs a Night Fury as its leader. Berk has more Night Furies than it needs, so it would be good to send one or two of them here, when the time comes." He gestured toward Bang. "You might even get this one. He likes your style."

"I think I'd like that," the Meathead said. "He's a fighter, but also a thinker. I can appreciate that. We might make a good team."

o

That morning, Chief Night Fury met up with his chosen messengers, who were sleepy but exhilarated from a good night's work.

"Thuggory, son of Mogadon the Meathead, is firmly in our camp," Varinn said confidently. "All we have to do is keep sending dragons for him to ride, so he doesn't forget what it's like, and he'll be a pro-dragon chief some day. He'd like to ride Bang again."

"Toothrot, son of Madguts the Murderous, is a definite 'maybe,' " Rangi added. "He likes the idea of riding dragons, but he knows his father won't approve and he doesn't want to displease him. Also, I think he wasn't very impressed with riding Six, just because she's small compared to other dragons. I think he's more of a Monstrous Nightmare kind of a guy. We should send Fanghook and Gustav next time."

"Excellent," Hiccup nodded. "Get some rest. Tomorrow night, I'll send you to the other two neutral tribes. After that, we'll carefully sound out the sons of the hostile chiefs, starting with the Bashem-Oiks; Chief Kurlee is probably more open to reason than the others, so his son shouldn't resist us, either. We'll keep going until we've changed the minds of every chief's son in the Archipelago. We're laying the groundwork for an eventual peace that will last for as long as dragons exist."

"And you got this idea from Camicazi, the Bog-Burglar chief's daughter?" Astrid asked.

"She was interested in a quick thrill ride, so I gave her one," Hiccup nodded. "Her reaction to flying gave me the idea. Bertha is hesitant, but Cami can't wait to train her own dragon. Of course, that dragon will have to train her as well; we don't want our friends turning into Bog-Burglar accomplices. But when I realized that the chiefs' sons and daughters would be more open-minded than their parents, that was the turning point."

"Just like you were more open-minded about dragons than your own father?" Toothless grinned.

"Yeah, pretty much," Chief Night Fury admitted. "If you'd been shot down by my dad instead of me, you and I wouldn't be having this conversation. But I'm the one who did it, you paid me back good for evil, and we've changed history together.

"Speaking of which, next week, we'll take some steps to end this war. And we'll end it on our terms, not theirs."