Life with the Night Furies Chapter 15
It was somewhere around eight o'clock at night. The Uglithug village was far quieter than usual; there were almost no women there, and the men were so depressed at the loss of their women that they couldn't do much more than drink in silence. The occasional drunken shouting match flared up every few minutes, but then died away; their hearts weren't in it. It was more out of habit than actual emotion. Chief Ug was sitting alone in a corner, trying to think of a way to hurt Berk for what they'd done to his tribe. But he had no ships to bring his warriors there, and no plan of attack that wouldn't endanger the female hostages. His constructors assured him that they'd have half a dozen small longships almost ready in a week or so. Coming up with attack plans was his job, and he had nothing.
He was distracted by an odd sound from outside. It was a rising whistle of some kind, multiplied by three. It almost sounded like... he didn't get to finish his thought before three quick firebolts blasted down the doors of the Mead Hall. Everyone shied away from the doorway and the unknown threat. A few seconds later, three dark shapes landed just outside. A human slid off the back of the middlemost one and shouted, "Chief Ug of the Uglithugs! Chief Night Fury of Berk says, 'Come out and talk. Now.' "
"And if I don't?" Ug shouted back.
"Then we'll start shooting out your Hall's support beams until you have no choice but to come out," the young man called back. Ug glanced at the smoldering remains of his Hall's doors, picked up his axe, and stomped toward the doorway. He stopped just before the threshold, keeping twelve feet between himself and the black dragons. As if that would keep him safe.
"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't call up all my warriors and cut you and your dragons to pieces," he snarled at Rangi.
The Night Fury snarled back. "Chief Night Fury will give you three good reasons," Rangi said. "One, we can fly away before any of your warriors can get near us. Two, there are half a dozen Night Furies and fifty-four other dragons circling your village at high altitude. If anything happens to any of us, your whole village is toast. And three, whether you know it or not, you don't want to hurt us, because we're here to offer you the best chance you'll ever get to end this war and get your women back."
"What if I don't want to end this war?" Ug demanded. "What if I want to keep fighting until I win?"
Grunt, grumble, croon. "Then go ahead and keep fighting. How's it working for you? Are you ready for another dragon raid? What do you think we'll incinerate next time?"
"Why couldn't you miserable lizards just steal our food and go, like you used to do?"
Growl, rumble, snap-snarl. "Because we aren't serving a hungry queen dragon anymore. We want something more valuable than food now. We want the right to live in peace. Will you give us that right, or would you rather starve from a lack of fishing boats?"
"You'll get no peace from me, dragon! You took our women away, you –"
Croon, grunt grunt growl. "Not us! You can blame Chief Pugpoodle of the Berserkers for that."
"Why? He didn't take them away! You did!"
Rumble, growl, snarl. "Technically, it was our Vikings who took them. Don't blame the dragons. But Pugpoodle put the idea in our heads. If it wasn't for him and that speech he made at the beginning of the Thing, Chief Night Fury never would have thought of it. Pugpoodle is also the one who called for this war against us when we weren't bothering anyone. If you don't like your women being away for so long, then contact Pugpoodle and ask him what you ought to do about it, seeing how he's so full of good ideas."
"Even if could contact him, I wouldn't," Ug shot back. "The Uglithugs don't need help from the Berserkers to take care of our own troubles."
Grunt, croon, bark. "Okay, then how do you plan to get out of those troubles?"
This wasn't the time or the place to admit that he'd run out of ideas. "I suppose you have a solution that I might not laugh at?"
"A simple one. Declare peace."
"Just like that, dragon?"
The dragon made what sounded like an extended speech. "We'll sign a treaty. You'll pledge never to attack Berk again, and you'll marry one of your young people to one of ours, to seal the treaty and make sure we never attack each other. We'll give you one of our special swords so you can tell your people that you won something. That way, none of them will want to depose you. You'll give us five barrels of trade goods in exchange, because, let's face it, you're losing. Then we'll return your women and pretend that the whole war never happened."
"You're willing to give us something, even though you're claiming victory over us? What's the catch?"
Rangi answered that one himself. "The only catch is that we want this war to end. If it takes us a week to make a sword for you, and that ends your role in a war that could rage on for months or years, then it's worth it to us."
"One sword won't compensate us for all of our lost ships," Ug retorted.
Growl, bark, half-croon. "That's the price you pay for declaring war on a tribe that wanted peace," Rangi translated. "A tribe with dragons that wanted peace!" Then he added a few words of his own. "Seriously, are we supposed to compensate you for your own stupidity? We don't have enough money for that." Chief Night Fury glanced at him and nodded in approval.
The insult went over Ug's head; he had another worry. "And who's going to protect us from the Berserkers and the other tribes when they find out we're breaking their alliance?"
Croon, croon, rumble. "That alliance is being taken apart, one tribe at a time. We've already gotten peace treaties from the Bashem-Oiks and the Thunderheads, whose new chief is a much more reasonable man than Snorre, and we still have neutrality from five other tribes. As for you, you have nothing to fear from the Berserkers. Their 'armada with the strength of fifty thousand men' is in the same state as your own fleet. The Vikings who still want to fight us are getting more and more outnumbered, and they have less and less fighting power. Pretty soon, it will be just us against the Berserkers, and we already know how to beat them. Did Pugpoodle tell you what was left of his tribe when he took control? Do you want a piece of that action? Or will you get out while you can?"
Ug considered their offer. It sounded like the best way to salvage a disastrous situation, but he wasn't sure. "Can I talk to my advisors about this?"
Snarl, grunt, gurgle. "Talk to them quickly. We'll be back for your answer at this time tomorrow night. If you make us wait, we'll take that as a 'no' answer. We've got some hot-headed young dragons up there who would just love it if you say 'no.' " The young man clambered onto the back of one of the dragons, and all three turned and leaped into the sky. They were out of sight almost instantly.
Ug glanced again at the fallen doors to his Mead Hall; they were still glowing and smoking. He forced himself to think. It was true that kidnapping the women was a standard Viking tactic. And, although he hated to admit it, it was also true that he couldn't blame the dragons for that. It was the Vikings of Berk who had carried them off; blaming the dragons would be like blaming the longships for a conventional Viking raid.
The dragon was right about Pugpoodle stirring up all this trouble. How high a price was his tribe willing to pay in order to stand beside an ally like that? He'd gone into this war only because the Berserkers had assured him of victory while they all stood together. Due to Pugpoodle's failure or Berk's success (or both), the grand alliance was crumbling, and his people were paying the price. How much more would they endure before they demanded a new chief? "All my advisors, gather around. We need to have a meeting."
o
Two more weeks had gone by, and Chief Night Fury was pleased as he met with the other Night Furies. "That's the last one," he smiled. "I figured that the Northlanders would be stubborn, but even they have finally seen reason. All of those chiefs who were so eager to fight us together, didn't do so well when we attacked them separately. Every one of them except Pugpoodle has accepted our terms and backed out of the war."
"That made a lot of extra work for the Night Fury smithing team, forging all those extra swords," Smith-flies-for-fun commented.
"And it meant a lot of flying back and forth for the other dragons, returning all those women to their home islands," Astrid added.
"The smithing part was a one-time-only job that we couldn't get away from," Hiccup nodded. "Besides, I took my turn in the forge like the rest of you, so it's not like I was making work for everybody else but me. As for bringing the women home, that turned out to be an unexpected bonus for my grand plan. Once those women got a taste of dragon flight that didn't involve kidnapping, some of them really liked it. Our chiefs' sons will have some female allies when the day comes for them to try to bring dragons onto their own home islands." He nudged Astrid with a wingtip. "It's good to have female allies." She smiled at him.
"So all we have to do now," Toothless concluded, "is take the Berserkers out of the war, and we'll have peace again?"
"That's the theory," Chief Night Fury said. "The question is, how reasonable is Pugpoodle when he's faced with the inevitable?"
"I don't think he's as bad as Dagur was," Full-of-surprises thought out loud, "but he's the one who stirred up this whole mess. Admitting that you were totally wrong is a sticky fish for anyone to swallow, especially a Viking chief. The Law-speaker didn't mention it, but I think 'extreme stubbornness" is one of the legal requirements to become a chief." She glanced at her father. "Present company excepted, of course!"
"Thank you for that," he grinned.
They were still discussing possibilities an hour later when they noticed the high-speed arrival of two of the Nadders who were flying patrol routes over the sea. "Ship coming! There's a ship coming!" the leader squawked. "It's about an hour away."
"Any idea whose it is?" Mother-of-twins asked.
"We didn't get too close, but we think it might be the Berserkers," the other one said. "It looked like a Skrill painted on their side-shields."
"Here we go again," Hiccup sighed. "Rangi!"
"I here," came a voice from directly beneath them. Hiccup's personal interpreter had surprised him by not wandering off in search of fun, but had remained on duty in the bottom section of the Nest.
"What you do down there?" Astrid asked him.
"I make musical instrument," he answered. "I hope it not hurt your ears." He'd been carving a sheep's leg bone into a simple flute.
"I hope so too. You not find new kind of trouble in weeks. Not start now," Hiccup called down to him. "By the way, I very happy with your work as my apprentice. You not silly boy anymore; you man. Now meet me on docks. Ship coming. Maybe you help end war today."
"I'm... I'm coming, sir. Thank you." Rangi hid his amazement at the chief's praise, set his project aside, and hustled down to the docks to stand beside Chief Night Fury and Night-fury-mother-of-twins as they watched the ship slowly approaching.
"I not see Pugpoodle on ship," the dragon said after a while.
"Maybe he sent a messenger in his place," Rangi suggested. Astrid backed off a few steps so she'd be in position for a quick strike if the unknown visitors tried anything against her mate.
The ship gracefully approached the docks, furled its sail, and bumped against the pilings. Two strong men made the ship fast with ropes, then lowered a gangway from the gunwale to the docks. One of them shouted, "Presenting the new chief of the Berserker tribe! Server of tea, muncher of biscuits, speaker of pleasantries, the great and well-mannered... Sigurd the Sociable!" A middle-aged man in a wolf-fur coat and matching hat (not a helmet, Rangi noted) climbed off the ship and walked hesitantly toward the Night Fury and the human.
"I have come to speak to Chief Night Fury of Berk," he said, looking back and forth from Hiccup to Rangi.
"This is Chief Night Fury," Rangi informed him. "I am his interpreter and assistant, Rangi Hofferson. He understands Norse perfectly; you may speak to him the same way you'd speak to any other chief." He stopped and waited for the other man to speak.
"As my herald said, I'm the new chief of the Berserker tribe," he began in a mild tone of voice. "When my cousin, Oswald the Agreeable, ruled the tribe, we were peaceful, prosperous, and pretty happy. Now we've had two aggressive chiefs in a row, and all they've given us is one disaster after another. The people have decided they want someone more like Oswald in charge again, so they sent Pugpoodle off to join the Outcasts and chose me to take his place." He took a deep breath. "I have come to ask for terms."
"Terms?" Rangi echoed.
Sigurd sighed heavily. "You've sunk most of our ships, turned all of our allies against us, and carried off enough of our women that we're all miserable. None of us has any idea how to defeat you, or can even give a good reason why we ought to try. I certainly don't have a quarrel with you, and I have no interest in prolonging this useless war. So I've come to end it." He sighed again. "I am here to surrender. What are your terms?"
After a few seconds of stunned silence, Chief Night Fury turned to Rangi. "What you think? What terms we ask?"
"You're asking me?" Rangi burst out, forgetting to speak Forge.
"You help talk to other tribes when we make treaties," Hiccup replied. "You hear all terms we give them. You not stupid. What you think?"
"Well..." Rangi began, then shifted back to Forge. "They pay us one gold coin for each ally, so we not lose money on war."
"Is good. Go on."
"They give us fifteen barrels of fish, because of fifteen dragons who died or were hurt in war."
"Is not fair trade, but makes sense to humans. Go on."
"And they sign treaty like others, promise never attack us again."
"Yes, is good," Hiccup agreed. "Is not too harsh. I think they accept. You tell him."
"Sir, Chief Night Fury says we will sign a peace treaty with the Berserkers in exchange for six large gold coins, one for each of the tribes that your predecessor used as his allies, and fifteen barrels of fish, one for each dragon who died or was injured fighting in this war."
Sigurd the Sociable counted the cost in his mind. "We aren't as wealthy a tribe as we used to be. The fish, in particular, may take us some time because we've lost so many of our fishing boats. But we're the losers, so I don't suppose I have a right to complain. We accept your terms." As the Night Fury and his translator heaved sighs of relief, he went on, "As for sealing the new treaty, I have a pretty young niece named Anya who has a nice dowry and is ready to be given in marriage to a good man from a tribe like this one. She's quite eager, in fact. Who's the lucky young man from Berk who will become her husband?"
Rangi glanced at Chief Night Fury for some guidance... and found the Night Fury staring right back at him. "I think we used up all of our young bachelors when we signed the treaties with the other tribes," he said, puzzled. "Who's left?"
Chief Night Fury gazed back at him through narrowed eyes. He glanced at his sister; she was grinning malevolently at him.
"No! You don't mean... oh, no! I'm too young! I'm not ready! I couldn't..." He desperately turned back to Sigurd. "Do you have to surrender so quickly? Is there any way you could keep the war going for a while longer? Maybe until one of our twelve-year-old boys gets old enough to be married?"
Sigurd the Sociable burst out in hearty laughter. The Night Furies joined him. The sounds of the human chief and the dragon chief laughing together echoed across the town. They hadn't heard any happy sounds in weeks.
"I don't think it's funny," Rangi pouted. But he was very much outvoted.