I'm going to do an experiment here.

I've begun annotating this story to mark the relevant passages between the text and the notes below. I'll be including little factoids and broader historical context for what's happening inside the story itself. If you're interested, give it a read. If not, feel free to skip right by it. Let me know if you'd like them to continue, though.

Prodigal Son 8

The port of Eskendereyya was bustling with activity. Sailors, soldiers, traders and fisherman marched, walked, and ran from dock to dock, many of them transporting various goods back and forth in the cool, clear morning air. Hiccup was at times forced to dodge cartloads of fish, meat, and grain. A line of crewman were passing crated chickens down carefully off of a larger freighter, forming a chain from the dock up to a large farming cart which was no doubt headed to the city's busy marketplace. They were forced to stand aside as an entire herd of goats passed by.

Hiccup drank it all in with joy and wonder. He loved the docks; it was one of the places he felt that he'd found civilization at its height. The city could be viewed as a sort of… imprint. Like a lake which all the rivers ran towards, it warped the landscape and industry around it. How many farmers for miles and miles in all directions worked every day to feed it? How many fisherman? How many artisans and engineers? Eskendereyya pulled in resources from all of Egypt and the Mediterranean, and beyond them to Arabia and Asia. It pulled in raw materials and gave out plays and writing and complex machines, and new ideas… It was a giant mechanism all its own, of which the residents were only a small part. The machine of civilization.

He looked down at his wheelbarrow full of the brand new pulleys, and felt proud he was contributing to it.

Anton Pandev's boat was tied up at the poorer docks at the far end of the Port. His daughter Shahira was on the deck, pulling down the mainsail and fastening it to the boom. She heard the rattle of the wheelbarrow down the length of the dock, and smiled at Hiccup as he approached, but she didn't stop working. She was dressed in a light tunic and a sheep's wool vest, along with leather leggings. Comfortable, practical clothes for a hard day's laboring. It reminded Hiccup of Astrid's habit of always appearing in armor no matter the occasion. Practical always had impressed him more far than decorative.

"How's your nose?" she called out.

"Still sore. Thanks for the reminder."

As he approached, Anton Pandev exited the forward hold, clambering up a steep ladder and into the light of day. He was followed by a bearded, stern-looking guard wearing a red cape, a studded, and stained leather cuirass, and a rather dented conical helmet. The soldier slipped a thin package under his cape as he strode confidently off the boat. Hiccup gave him a polite nod and stepped aside. It didn't do to cause trouble for guardsmen; they remembered faces.

"Hiccup!" Anton exclaimed merrily. The Fisherman threw his arms open in greeting. "Welcome to the Pandev family's little slice of heaven!"

"Good to see you again!" Hiccup replied as the fisherman stepped onto the dock. "Who was that?"

"Just one of the port guardsmen. He wanted to take a look at our docking papers."

"And the package you gave him?"

Anton grimaced, "As I said, he wanted to have a 'look' at our paperwork. Docking and administration fees are collected by the guards."

"Isn't that more the job of the treasury's collectors?" Hiccup asked, frowning.

Anton gritted his teeth. "Ah. You must be thinking of the Government's docking and administration fees."

Hiccup bit his lip, glaring down the dock at the retreating figure. "That's immoral."

"It's a part of life."

"It's racketeering!"

"Look around you." Anton gestured at the surrounding ships. "Every day a couple hundred fisherman land here to sell our goods at the markets. And every day they buy our product. We always have a market here. We're never turned away. More importantly, Hiccup, this is the only area of the Mediterranean which the Moorish pirates can't touch. And the guards know it."

"It's blind robbery!"

"It's life, Hiccup. We live in… interesting times. Now, what have you got for me?"

Hiccup sighed and shook his head as the distant guard disappeared into the crowds which thronged the quay. He reached down and threw the wheelbarrow's covering aside.

Anton stared in silence at the pile of newly redesigned pulleys. With an expression nearing wonder, he carefully reached down and pulled one out, giving it a gentle spin. Hiccup felt burst of pride as it clicked away, spinning evenly and effortlessly.

"What in god's name have you done…?" The fisherman murmured, stroking his moustache.

"I put wheels inside the pulley." Hiccup said proudly.

"If you say so. Those look like marbles to me…"

"They'll work."

Anton gave the pulley another spin, and then set it carefully down on the cart. "Alright, Master Hiccup."

"Haddock. Hiccup Haddock."

"Hadd… really? Haddock? Hiccup Haddock?" The fisherman's brows rose. On the deck not four feet away, Shahira was snickering as she coiled a rope and stowed it away.

"Yeah… that was my dad's fault." Hiccup said, blushing. "He named me."

"And you kept it." Shahira said, skipping easily off the boat and onto the deck. "Scandinavia's months and months north of here. You could have taken any name you pleased and you kept 'Hiccup Haddock'." She reached down and examined one of the pulleys.

"Here in Eskendereyya at least." Hiccup said. "How do you know where Scandinavia is?"

She shot him a smirk over the pulley she was toying with. "Surprised?"

"Impressed." Hiccup corrected, smirking right back. "I didn't really know that world geography would be of interest to a fisherman…"

"There are free lectures in the Agora almost every night. Poets, philosophers, astronomers, alchemists, mathematicians…" she glanced down at the pulley. "Looks to me like you'd fit right in with that crowd. I hope Yanick pays you well."

"Free lectures?" Hiccup asked eagerly. Reading books in the Library was one thing, but to speak to actual mathematicians and philosophers… that was something else entirely!

"Didn't know about them?" Shahira sighed. "I'm not surprised. They've kinda gone underground."

"Speaking of payment…" Anton reached into his money pouch.

"Actually I was… I was hoping I could take away a basket of fish." Hiccup tried awkwardly.

The fisherman's hand stayed fixed in his pocket as he stared at the young man. "Fish?"

"A basket please."

"What are you going to do with a basket full of fish?" Shahira asked incredulously.

"Take it to the library." Hiccup replied, feeling his cheeks grow red.

Shahira laughed. "And teach them to read?"

"Possibly. You don't know they can't."

"Any particular type?" Anton probed.

"Haddock, for instance." Shahira suggested with a sly smile. She set the pulley down in the wheelbarrow.

"If you can manage." Hiccup said dryly. "I was actually hoping to set up a more permanent arrangement. I'll fix things, and help you guys out in return for a steady supply."

"I dunno how steady that work's going to be." Anton said thoughtfully. "But I can give you a basket now if you'd like. And I'll let you know if we have any more problems."

"Can I pick it up this evening?"

"I suppose."

Shahira's arm slipped through Hiccup's elbow as the woman came up to stand beside him. "He'll grab it when he drops me off tonight."

"Dwaa?" Hiccup inquired politely, staring at her. He suddenly felt extremely self-conscious, and he didn't dare look Anton in the eye.

She snickered. "Well said. There's a lecture on in the Agora later today, and there's no way you're not going to come with me to see it."

At that moment a nervous young man in a dirty robe brushed past them and approached Anton. He was carrying a bundle of scrolls under his arm which the fisherman carefully removed and placed in an empty barrel on the dock. Anton pulled another money pouch from his pocket and handed it to the visitor, who turned to leave.

With a shock, hiccup recognized him as the Scribe from the previous night. The very same man who had tripped over the marbles and given Hiccup the idea for his new pulleys. He smiled at the man. "I know you. Maps, right?"

The surly scribe fixed him with a wide-eyed, apprehensive look.

"What's your name?"

"My business is my own, stranger." The man snarled peevishly. He hurried away, keeping his head down.

"I'm glad we had this talk." Hiccup called after him. He turned back to Anton. "The thing I love most about his city is the sense of community…"

The fisherman was laughing. "Pontius is a… well…"

"He's a hopeless grouch." Shahira elaborated.

"But his maps are first-class." Anton said. "Decent star charts are worth their weight in gold."

Shahira gave him a sidelong look. "How did you know about the maps?"

"I saw him last night." Hiccup explained. "He tripped on some marbles. He actually gave me the idea for the pulleys"

Anton stroked his beard. "Small world."

"Apparently."

"C'mon, Hiccup." Shahira tugged on his arm. "We've got things to do and we're losing daylight."

Anton sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, turning away from them.

Hiccup smiled at her. "What did you have in mind?"

In the Agora, a tent had been set up. It was made of extremely thick, heavy cloth, and was held up with bulks of timber. A dozen locals were lined up outside it, waiting patiently. Even as Hiccup and Shahira approached, two locals exited the tent, discussing what they had just seen with subdued, yet wondrous tones.

"A camera obscura!" Hiccup exclaimed excitedly.

"You know about them?" Shahira asked. She took a bite out of her fried fish. [1]

Hiccup nodded excitedly. "Saw one in Jerusalem." He joined the short line to enter the tent.

Shahira followed, her eyes suddenly alight with excitement. "You were in Jerusalem?"

"For a few months. It's beautiful there!" his face fell as he remembered the riots and turmoil. "Though… it's not a stable place."

"My father says we're going there one day." Shahira told him eagerly. "He says the keystone of the world is there."

"It's the The Dome of the Rock." Hiccup nodded. "It's beautiful. And the temple is over two hundred years old but it feels like the newest building in the city."

"Did you see the foundation Stone itself?"

"Yeah. I cried." He admitted quietly. "You realize you're at the center of the world. Just what it means to be standing there…"

"I bet it's incredible." She said dreamily.

"It is! I have this theory that the further you are from the Stone, the colder the world is! I mean Scandinavia is miles and miles away, and it's really, really cold over there. But I'd need to travel that far in the every direction to find out."

She gave him a sidelong look. "What is your home called?"

Hiccup grimaced. "Berk. It's in an archipelago on the northern edge of Scandinavia."

She took another thoughtful bite. "That is pretty far. What's it like there?"

"It was absolutely lovely."

"Do I detect a hint of sarcasm?"

"Perhaps a carefully measured pinch or two." He allowed.

"A well-seasoned statement topped with a slice of bitterness." she studied him. "Sore subject."

"A bit."

"Well what about afterwards? You spent some time in Jerusalem."

"Went to the Isles of Britain first. Then down south. Ended up fleeing the Moors in the Iberian Peninsula[2]." Thankfully their hails of arrows hadn't been able to fly as high, or as quickly as Toothless. "I ended up in Byzantium for a while, working as a member of the Varangians[3]. My unit was dispatched to fight the Bulgarians."

"Didn't we lose?"

"The first battle." Hiccup winced bitterly. All that useless slaughter… wading through those bloodsoaked battlefields were some of his worst memories. He sighed and absentmindedly rubbed the scar which ran across his chest. The axe had cut deep, scraping his ribs. If Toothless hadn't plucked him off the battlefield, he probably would have died there.

He said, "I finally got back to Byzantium and hadn't been there a week before I was ordered to break into churches and confiscate or destroy all their sacred objects[4]."

Shahira stared. "What? Why?"

"Because orders." He replied shortly, "I quit and ran."

"Well yeah, but… what good would destroying holy objects do? Isn't that sacrilege?"

"I have no idea and I don't really care to know. It was probably as pointless and stupid as all my other orders." He said, a shade coldly.

Shahira threw up her hands and turned away. "Alright, sorry!"

"I don't mean to…" Hiccup grabbed her hands as gently as he dared, and spun her back around. They were nearly at the tent, and hiccup was looking forward to the strange sight he knew awaited them inside it. Shahira was looking up at him with doleful brown eyes. He felt a twinge of regret. He hadn't intended to put her off or hurt her feelings. "I'm sorry for that. I just don't really like a lot of what happened. The world is a big place, and it's pretty crazy. That's why I'm here now. I'm trying to put all that behind me and start again, alright?"

"As a blacksmith?"

Hiccup smiled. "I have the skills. Might as well use them. I'm no soldier, Shahira. I can't just follow orders."

She examined his resolute features for a moment, then gave in and smiled back. "You think too much."

"Better than thinking too little."

"Hey!" the man at the tent's entrance waved at them. "You two want in?"

Hiccup placed a few coins in his palm. Still gripping her by the hand, he led Shahira through the tent's open flap, and into the darkness beyond.

A wooden panel had been incorporated into one wall of the tent. In it was a hole, barely larger than a pinprick. Yet the light streamed through it, and on the opposite wall was an image. A moving painting, upside down and reversed, yet still decipherable. It was an image of the street scene outside the tent, changing in real time.[5]

Carts passed by, their rattling muffled by the thick cloth walls, yet Hiccup and Shahira could see their wheels turning against the white canvas on the tent's far wall. People flowed across the canvas, some carrying baskets, or pushing barrows in front of them. A series of guardsmen marched past, their armor clanking in rhythm with the image.

Hiccup took a seat, cross-legged on the sand. Shahira followed, and laid her head on his shoulder as they both watched the moving image.

"Why do you think it does that?"

"I don't know." Hiccup admitted. "But I've always wondered…"

[1] Deep frying went back as far as the fourth century, as demonstrated in the ancient roman cook book Apicius. Indeed, the cooking method of frying is actually thought to have been invented in Egypt some twenty-five thousand years BC. That's roughly 4,500 years ago. Whether or not the frying techniques invented included deep frying, it's up for debate. Long story short, French Fries (Or Chips if you're Australian/British) were invented before McDonalds.

[2] Spain was invaded by, and at war with Muslims for quite a lot of the middle ages. The Reconquista (711-1492), was the opening salvo of the crusades. A ridiculously stupid series of wars during which the Christians tried repeatedly to retake the holy land from the Muslims. The first invasion was actually an attempt to save Constantinople, the eastern capital of Christendom, from a supposed attack. Yet when the rescuers arrived, the citizens of Constantinople assumed they were there to take the city, and promptly shut the gates. The Rescuers took this rather badly, and laid siege to the city. It resulted in one of the biggest, stupidest mistakes in Military history.

Later waves actually managed to make it down to Jerusalem to fight the enemy (a novel concept). Nothing actually lasted. They kept running out of supplies and manpower. It takes a lot longer to march an army across Europe and south to Jerusalem than it does to simply give weapons to the people living there…

[3] An anonymous reader suggested I work Hiccup in as a member of the Varangian Guard. This is a fantastic idea and I'm going to do it. The Varangians served the Byzantine Empire for an enormous chunk of medieval history, but they started out as Vikings who had settled instead of raiding, and they earned and kept a reputation as an elite group of effective, professional, and totally fucking badass warriors. They even served as the private Imperial Guardsmen for the Byzantine emperors themselves.

I hope you'll forgive me but I'm twisting history a little; to my knowledge no Varangian guards were sent west during the Reconquista (the precursor to the crusades). They were more of a force to be reckoned with a century or two after this story takes place. But they were too badass to ignore.

[4] The Byzantine Iconoclast was another historical headscratcher. Religious images were banned and destroyed. The Emperor at the time apparently felt that God punished Christians who worshipped using symbols of Jesus and the Saints. His evidence for this was the loss of a great many battles including the war with the Bulgarians which Hiccup mentioned earlier. So the Emperor ordered all depictions of Jesus and the saints destroyed to appease God.

[5] The Camera Obscura was a curiosity for ancient peoples. A tent with a very small opening at one end, and a blank wall at the other. The small amount of light which makes it into the tent projects an image on the far wall. An ancient Arabic scientist named Alhazen used it to demonstrate some key aspects about the behavior of light. Those basic concepts are still used today in the design of cameras. They were also the start of a chain of scientific discoveries which has enabled us to predict with certainty on a molecular level, what every visible star across the galaxy is made of.

On an interesting sidenote, the image projected onto the retina of your eyeball is also actually upside down and backwards. Your brain flips the images you see upright for you. Pretty cool, huh?

A reader asked me to get further into Hiccup's history. I'm not sure how far I'm going to be able to go. After all, this is about his last adventure, and what happens when he gets home. It'll cover the tail end of his journey. But yes, he learned how to fight. I'll likely get more into that in later chapters.

As I said these ending footnotes are an experiment. If you guys like and appreciate the history, I'll see if I can include more of it. If not, let me know. I'll still work to keep the story itself as true to history as a story with dragons can be ;). Either way, let me know.