Lightning and Death Itself
Finis Ludum Chapter 1
"Okay, I'm sick of waiting," Hiccup announced. "I need facts, and I'm going to get them."
The other Night Furies stopped their fishing for a moment to stare at their leader.
"I'm guessing that you're talking about the Romans?" Bang began.
"You're still worried about them invading us?" Mother-of-twins added.
"Yes and yes," was Chief-night-fury's reply. "We've seen how they took out the Lava-Louts, apparently without a fight, and we've heard Rangi's report. If they're like the other conquerors we've met, then they intend to take over this entire archipelago. My first question is, 'Can they do it?' My second question is, 'What should we do about it?' I want to get some answers."
"How do you plan to do that?" Night-fury-smith-flies-for-fun asked.
"I need some suggestions," Hiccup shrugged. "I'll never come up with a decent plan if I don't have the facts."
"I'll go back to my original suggestion," Full-of-surprises said. She was on a night schedule because she primarily dealt with nocturnal dragons, unlike her father who mostly dealt with the diurnal Vikings, but she still loved to join her family's morning feeding sessions. "I can find that Roman ship, identify the centenarian, and do a flying snatch."
"I think that's 'centurion,' not 'centenarian,'" her older brother corrected her.
"Whatever!" she snapped back. "They can call their leader a codfish for all I care. That doesn't matter. Dad, if you want answers, he's got them, and I can get him for you. Just say the word."
"There's only one thing holding me back," Hiccup said after a moment. "If we snatch their leader away, they'll almost certainly take that as an act of war. Berk isn't ready for war yet."
"They already want war with us!" Bang protested. "How could we make it worse by taking away their leader?"
"If anything," Smith-flies-for-fun added, "it will make things better for us. Those Romans seem to want war no matter what we do, but every army needs leaders, and they won't be as good at fighting if we've got their cemetery."
"Centurion!" Bang corrected her. "I know we dragons had to make up a new word in our language to describe that Roman leader, but is it that hard to remember?"
Full-of-surprises was about to reply when Hiccup cut her off. "Like your Alpha said, that doesn't matter. Let's not get bogged down in semantics when we're facing a threat to our existence. Full-of-surprises, can you locate that Roman ship and make the snatch at night?"
"So they can't shoot at me?" the dragons' Alpha wondered.
"That, and so they won't be sure that a dragon did it," Hiccup answered.
"Plausible deniability," Mother-of-twins mused.
"Fear, uncertainty, and doubt," her mate replied. "I'm sure those Romans are just as curious about us as we are about them. I want facts, but I don't want to give them any facts in return. I want to keep them in the dark about dragons in general, and Night Furies in particular, for as long as possible, so they can't form a plan that will work against us."
"In the dark... Night Furies... striking at night... I see what you did there," Toothless sighed. The others groaned.
"They won't see a thing," Full-of-surprises promised. "They'll hear and feel a rush of wind, they might see a dark shadow pass through their midst, but they'll have no idea what happened until the next morning when they look for their cen... cen... centurion and can't find him."
"How will you stop him from shouting to his friends and tell them he's being carried off?" That was Toothless again.
"If I grab him from behind at sixty miles per hour, the impact will knock the breath out of him," Full-of-Surprises said. "He might manage a grunt or a gasp, but not much else. By the time he regains his wits and catches his breath, we'll be a quarter of a mile away, at the very least. He can shout his head off after that. Even if his friends can still hear him at that distance, they won't be able to understand him."
"Okay, next question," Toothless nodded. "What if you snap his neck back and kill him when you hit him at that speed?"
"That's a good question," the younger Night Fury nodded. "I'll have to make sure I get him with my leg straight down, so his head hits my foreleg and can't snap back. Then, as he starts to slide down, I'll grab his shoulders. It will be a tricky move, but I think I can do it."
"If this centurion is the key to Hiccup's planning," Mother-of-twins thought out loud, "then you need to be sure. Hiccup, can she borrow one of your Vikings to practice this maneuver of hers?"
Hiccup snorted. "Who in his right mind would volunteer to get hit by a Night Fury at sixty miles an hour?"
"I think you've answered your own question, Dad," Thing One observed wryly. "Nobody in their right mind would volunteer for that."
Hiccup thought for a moment, then smiled and nodded. "You're right. Let's find Tuffnut."
Tuffnut, of course, was ready and willing to try out such a hare-brained, impractical, dangerous scheme. Hiccup, as Chief-night-fury, could arrange for the use of a fishing boat in the harbor that wasn't going anywhere for a few hours. Tuffnut stood on the deck, fighting the urge to look around and see the Night Fury that was silently bearing down on him. Full-of-surprises practiced swooping down on the boat from different angles to see what effect the mast and rigging would have on her mission. She was able to make the snatch nine times out of ten; the tenth time, she had to abort her attack because her wing would have hit the mast. Tuff was knocked silly multiple times and bruised from head to toe, but when the exercise ended, he was begging, "Please, just once more!" as he struggled to stand up.
"Dad, it'll work," was Full-of-surprises' verdict.
"Okay," Hiccup nodded. "Start searching for the ship as soon as you can. Let me know when you're bringing in our Roman guest. Rangi and I will interrogate him and we'll see what we can learn."
"Wow, Dad," his daughter intoned. "You're turning me loose to implement my own plan, without changing it or adding anything to it?"
"You're a good planner," Toothless observed.
Full-of-surprises tossed her head toward her father. "Look who taught me about planning!"
When the first week had gone by without finding the Roman ship, Hiccup decided to add something to his daughter's plan after all. "I'd like you to send scouts over all the nearby Viking tribes," he told her. "Look for signs that the Romans have taken over those tribes."
"What kinds of signs should they look for?" she asked.
"Roman ships in the harbor would be the most obvious signs," Chief-night-fury replied. "New buildings that look military, like barracks or extra forges, would also be a good clue. I guess I'd want to know about any changes that are visible from the air. Maybe those changes are innocent, or maybe they're signs that the tribe is under new management; we can figure that part out later. Keep me posted about our neighbors. At this point, I'll take any clues I can get."
Two nights later, around three in the morning, a team of scouts alighted on the Nest, waking Hiccup and the other day-schedule Night Furies with their squawks of "A ship is coming! A ship is coming!"
"What kind of ship?" Hiccup asked sleepily.
"It has Berserker side shields," one of the Nadders explained.
"It has a chief's pennant on the top of the mast," the other added.
"How many people are on board, and when will it get here?" Mother-of-twins asked. She was usually more alert to military possibilities than her mate.
"About twenty men are on the ship," the first Nadder said. "Most of them are rowing because there's no wind for the sail."
"I think they mean to arrive here at daybreak," the second one guessed.
"Are you sure they're coming here?" Astrid pressed them.
"Yes," they chorused. The second one added, "They're on a straight course for our harbor. If it was daytime, then you could probably see their ship from our headlands by now. If they mean to go somewhere else, then they need to change course very soon, or they'll run aground on our island."
"Okay, we're going to have company," Hiccup decided. "Let's get a little more sleep; then we'll do our fishing just before sunrise, so we won't have to worry about our guests disrupting our day. Let Rangi and Anya sleep so they'll be alert when we need them for translating."
"Will you want both of them, Dad?" Thing One asked.
"I think it will throw the visitors off their stride if they're met at the docks by a man, two or three Night Furies, and a woman," Hiccup replied. "I don't know why they're coming here, and I'll take any advantage over them that I can get."
"That's definitely not the Viking way," Smith-flies-for-fun yawned before they all lay down and went back to sleep, leaving the scouting Nadders wondering what they ought to do next.
Early the next morning, the Berserker ship docked in Berk's harbor. A huge warrior leaped off the ship onto the docks and bellowed, "Give honor to the illustrious chief of the Berserker tribe! Muncher of biscuits, server of tea, the master of meaningless chit-chat, but he's got a mean streak if you betray his trust... Sigurd the Sociable!" Sigurd bounded onto the docks. His clothing was somewhat fancier than the last time they'd seen him, and he had gained a bit of weight, but otherwise, he looked much the same as he had appeared at Rangi and Anya's wedding.
He approached Berk's welcoming party, which consisted of his niece Anya, her husband Rangi, Chief-night-fury, and Night-fury-mother-of-twins. Night-fury-makes-one-heck-of-a-bang, Smith-flies-for-fun, and Thing One flew in lazy figure-eights overhead, ready to strike at the first sign of treachery. "Chief Night Fury, I presume?" he asked mildly.
Hiccup nodded. The other Viking chief visibly relaxed. "I still have trouble telling you all apart. I've come with a message for your ears only. Can we adjourn to your... house? Cave? Where do Night Furies live, anyway?"
Hiccup grunted and snarled. "He says," Rangi translated, "that everyone here is one of his trusted advisors, and you can deliver your message for their ears as well. If you would rather sit down and relax, we can go to our Mead Hall, which will be just about empty at this hour."
Sigurd rubbed his back and winced. "Actually, it would be nice to sit in a chair that isn't heaving up and down with every wave," he admitted. "To the Mead Hall, then!" He turned to his men. "Otho the Organizer, you will come with us as a witness for our tribe. The rest of you, relax, but don't go anywhere. This probably won't take long." The huge man joined them as they made their way up the ramps and across town to the Mead Hall. The four humans sat down, while the two Night Furies sat on the floor at each end of the table.
"I'm bringing you this message," Sigurd began, "because my niece is a citizen of Berk, and because I admire how you handle things here. I don't want any trouble or violence if it can be avoided, and so I give you this message: when the Romans come, just greet them politely and surrender. If you fight, you'll lose."
Mother-of-twins let out a series of grunts. "She wants to know if that's what you did," Anya translated.
"Yes," Sigurd said, and for just a moment, he looked ashamed. Then he resumed his confident expression. "The Romans are moving into this part of the world with conquest on their minds. They've already taken over the Lava-Louts, the Uglithugs, and the Thunderheads. The Lava-Louts and the Thunderheads tried to fight. They were both defeated faster than any tribe ever got conquered before, and their chiefs..." He looked away. "Growing up among the Berserkers, I thought I knew what cruelty was. I know nothing, compared to those Romans. Our new overlords could teach the worst of us some lessons in how to put someone to death in a way that makes you think twice about fighting them."
"So you didn't fight them?" Rangi asked.
"I heard that the Uglithugs didn't resist, and they let Ug remain the chief, as long as he swore obedience to Rome," Sigurd went on. "When the Roman ship arrived in our harbor, I had to make a quick decision. I chose life. I bowed the knee and told them that, if they wanted to be in charge, we wouldn't fight them. A few of my people disagreed." He shivered. "Those people's opinions no longer matter. Now I'm the chief of a Roman vassal state – that's what the centurion calls us. We pay a tax to Rome, and we have to contribute a certain number of men to help them fight their battles, but aside from that, nothing has changed. They've already sent a trading ship to us with trade goods that we've never seen before, and they've promised that there's a lot more where that came from."
Hiccup snapped and snarled. "He asks, 'Are you telling us to do the same thing?'" Rangi interpreted.
"That would be the smart thing to do," the Berserker chief nodded.
Grunt-yowl-grunt-grunt. "The chief says that Berk's dragons have shown our ability to defend our island against aggressors," Anya said. "We've done it before and we can do it again. If those Romans think we're an easy pushover, then we'll be the ones who teach them a lesson!"
"Yes, you're fine fighters," Sigurd agreed. "But you've never faced an enemy like Rome before! Their soldiers are well-disciplined, they have lots of high-quality weapons, and their Empire is huge! The centurion showed me a map of their known world, and our entire Archipelago is nothing but a spot on the map compared to the lands that they rule. You could sink an entire fleet of their ships, and they'd just send an even bigger fleet." He paused. "Not only that, but they're taking control of one Viking tribe after another. If you go to war against them, then you'll have to fight the whole Archipelago as well as their own ships and soldiers."
Snap-snarl-gurgle. "We've fought the whole Archipelago before – remember? We already know how to win that war."
"This war won't be like that war," Sigurd countered. "For one thing, you won't be up against twelve or thirteen tribes controlled by twelve or thirteen chiefs, each with his own agenda. You'll be up against all the tribes, unified and controlled by a single military mind. You won't be able to pick us off, one by one, or play one of us against another.
"For another thing, even if you somehow defeat all the tribes, that will wear you down. You'll take some casualties; you'll suffer some losses; you won't be as strong coming out as you were going in. That will pave the way for the Romans themselves to finish the job that their auxiliaries started."
"Auxiliaries?" Anya asked him.
"That's what the Romans call the tribes and nations that submit to them. That's what the Berserker tribe is, and the Thunderheads, and the Uglithugs, and soon, that will include all the others. Rome will take them down, one after the other, until you're the only ones left. Rome will tell us to fight you, and I'll have to agree, even though it might mean your death, Anya. I'll have no choice. If I don't obey them, then they'll nail me to a wooden cross and leave me there to die, and then pick another Berserker who will lead the tribe the Roman way. It's quite inevitable. I made this trip to tell you not to resist them, so it won't come to war."
"Why are they saving us for last?" Rangi asked.
"They know about your dragons," Sigurd answered. "All the tribes know about them, and as soon as the Romans add a new tribe to their empire, they ask that tribe what they know about the other tribes. They know you'll be the toughest tribe to fight, because you don't fight with just people. That's another reason they'll send their auxiliaries, like my tribe, to fight you first. We know how to fight dragons... although, I'll admit, we don't know how to defeat them. It won't break the Romans' hearts if their auxiliaries get nearly wiped out, as long as we wear you down in the process.
"It's obvious to me, and to Chief Ug of the Uglithugs, that Rome's end-game is for all of us Vikings to knock ourselves out fighting each other, so there's no one left with enough fight in him to give them any trouble. If they have to fight you themselves, they aren't afraid of a fight. I've visited the Thunderheads and I've seen what they did to that tribe. There are more widows than married women there, and almost no single men; that tribe may die out if they can't find more men to take the places of all those casualties. You're in for the fight of your life, Chief Night Fury, and I really don't think you can win. The smart play would be to avoid fighting and let Rome win peacefully."
Grunt, grumble, snarl-snap. "If Berk surrenders, what happens to the dragons?" Rangi said.
After a long pause, Sigurd shook his head. "I don't know. There isn't any other tribe here that lets dragons live with them, and I don't –"
"Not true," Anya corrected him. "The Bog-Burglars have a small nest, and the Meatheads have an outpost of dragons guarding them at night."
"The Meatheads are next on the Romans' list," the Berseker chief informed them. "Will your dragons fight to protect the Meatheads against the Romans? If they do, then every dragon in the Archipelago will be marked for death as a potential enemy. If they let you live, then I think they'll treat you the same way they treat their horses. You'll become transportation for high-ranking Romans, and carriers of heavy loads. If you're docile and obedient, then they'll make use of you. If they think you're dangerous, then they'll put you in the ring with their gladiators for their people's entertainment. It will be like Dragon Training, except the Romans play for keeps.
"As far as the Bog-Burglars go, I know that the Romans are in no hurry to tangle with them. They don't need women, not after killing so many of the men in the Lava-Lout and Thunderhead tribes. I think that their soldiers have a hard time with the idea of fighting against women. The centurion didn't tell me Rome's war plans, of course, but if I were them, I'd hit the Bog-Burglars hard with my auxiliaries, capture a few women warriors to send to their games as a novelty, wipe out all the others, and send all the docile men to marry the Thunderhead widows."
"What will they do with the Law-Speakers?" was Rangi's next question.
"If they will serve Rome, then Rome will let them live and continue in their work," was the ready answer. "Rome likes laws and law-abiding people. If they will not serve the Empire, then they will die. The Roman Empire doesn't make exceptions for anybody. They were very clear on that point when they were explaining my new responsibilities."
After another long pause, Hiccup growled twice. "He asks if there's anything else you wanted to tell us," Rangi said.
"No, that's everything I came to say," Sigurd said as he rose. "But I'll close on a personal note. Chief Night Fury, I'm very fond of my niece. I don't want to hear that she died in a battle that you had no hope of winning. Please choose wisely." He and his witness walked back to the docks alone, and their ship was soon headed back toward Berserker territory.
Astrid turned to Hiccup. "He's scared."
"I agree," he nodded. "He's made the best deal he can get, but he isn't convinced that it's going to work out well." They took a moment to translate their thoughts for Rangi and Anya.
"He reminds me of the Viking who dodged a Monstrous Nightmare attack and grabbed it by the tail," Rangi commented. "He was safe for as long as he could hold on, and for as long as none of the other dragons tried to get him off of their friend's tail."
"He's not the most Viking-like of all the chiefs," Anya added, "but he controls one of the biggest and most powerful tribes. If he surrendered without a fight, that's not a good sign."
"He mentioned four tribes that have already joined Rome, willingly or otherwise," Astrid thought out loud. "The Thunderheads and the Lava-Louts won't be much of a threat to us if Chief Sigurd is correct, but the other two tribes... oh, gods, do we have to fight them again? Will they never learn?"
Hiccup didn't answer. He was looking thoughtful. Night Fury faces aren't as flexible as human faces, so they are limited in the facial expressions they can make, but there was no mistaking Hiccup's expression.
"What's on your mind, chief?" Rangi wondered.
Chief-night-fury slowly turned to face him. "I'm wondering, for the first time ever, if we're up against an enemy we can't beat."
The other Night Furies turned to face him, shocked.
Astrid was the first to speak. "Those are words that I never, ever expected to hear from you, Chief-night-fury."
"Dad, you're our ultimate warrior!" Thing One burst out. "You're undefeated! You've led us against heavy odds, time after time, and you always win!"
Her brother nodded vigorously. "Now that I've finally gotten my confidence as a fighter, now you're losing your nerve? Dad, why?"
Astrid added, "What is it about these Romans that makes you... scared?"
They expected him to react violently to that last word, but he just sighed. "Lots of things. The fact that they outnumber us by a huge margin. The fact that they're taking down the Archipelago, one tribe at a time. The fact that they're saving their toughest target – us – for last. In other words, they're fighting with the exact same tactics that I like to use."
"So beat them at their own game, Dad!" Thing One encouraged him.
"But they're the ones who are trying to beat us at our own game," Hiccup corrected her. "It sounds like they've been using these tactics for a long time, against a long list of enemies."
"That's the impression that Chief Sigurd gave," Mother-of-twins nodded, "but he's just a conquered chief. He's not in on their councils of war. What if they fed him false information, hoping that he would tell us all about it, and leave us wide open for their real plan of attack?"
Hiccup squared his shoulders and settled his wings back. "You know what? You're right! We still don't have the facts, just rumors and opinions from one semi-friendly chief who didn't even try to fight. Full-of-surprises, your midnight snatch mission is still on. I want to talk to their actual leader and get the facts from him. Then I can make an intelligent decision.
"There's one other thing I want," he went on. "I want dragon patrols to overfly the Thunderheads, the Uglithugs, and the Berserkers near sunrise or sunset, when our vision is good but the humans can't see so well. I want to know if the things Chief Sigurd says are true."
"You've got it, Dad," Full-of-surprises nodded vigorously.
He suddenly looked abashed. "I'm sorry – I'm out of line. I'm not the dragons' leader anymore. It's not my place to give orders to the Alpha."
"Maybe not," his daughter said firmly, "but you're still my father, you're still a former Alpha, and you're still the best strategist, tactician, and awesome fighting dragon in the Northland. We're all facing the same threat of invasion and conquest, so we all have to fight as one. I'll lead the dragons the way I should, but when it comes to the overall plan, I have no problem with following your instructions, and I'm not going to make you say 'please.' You'll have your scouting missions, and you'll have your Roman cen... your cento... what do you call him?"
"CENTURION!" the others all shouted.
"Yeah, him!" she sputtered. "I'll get him for you! In fact, I might slap him around a little before I hand him over to you, as punishment for choosing a name that's so hard to remember."
A/N
Please be aware that this site has turned off my access to my own stories. There doesn't seem to be anything I can do about it. I can post, but I cannot see or answer any reviews you might leave. Unless you're a guest; for some reason, I still get guest reviews (but, of course, I can't answer them).