This chapter came out later than usual because my uncle was in heart surgery, and I had to travel a fair distance to his place to help him recover.

Prodigal Son 18

Hiccup and Artemisia were seated at the top of a hill several miles south of Alexandria. The sky was moonless and cloudless but the stars shone bright, blue and cold. Every constellation was crisp and clean. Jupiter and Venus were both visible close to the horizon. The green cloud of the Milky Way galaxy arced over their heads like the backbone of the night. The sight was magnificent.

They were leaning back against Toothless' flank. Artemisia had not taken well to flying at first. She had held tightly onto Hiccup, and though he knew of her irreverent attitudes, he was sure he heard her praying under her breath. Toothless had flown in a calm, relatively straight line. Gliding, more than flying, and only flapping his wings to gain height or avoid turbulence.

Hiccup had told her everything. The last hour had been spent in silence as she absorbed his story, and at that moment he had only one question. One which had weighed on his mind for years. "Am I a coward?"

She chuckled.

"That is a question with no easy answer, Hiccup."

"I know."

"Socrates was executed for fighting the system he was born into. He was forced to drink poison. Plato advises that in troubled times, those with extraordinary ideas should lay low and wait for the right opportunity. But one can spend one's entire life in waiting and at that point you might as well be dead. Are you a coward for leaving? I should say not. You were a boy, and you were defending your friend. Are you a coward for staying away, for putting Berk and its problems out of your mind? Yes."

"I needed to leave!" Hiccup said, stung, "I needed to find a place."

Artemisia pursed her lips, deep in thought. "I think one of the greatest lies about growing up is the myth about 'finding a place'. Sheep can join their flocks, but you are something different. People like you cannot simply find a place. You have to make one for yourself."

"Well I found one here, didn't I?"

"Did you? And what about Toothless? What is there for him in Alexandria? Will you have him spend the rest of his days on the library roof while you attend my classes? Will he ever see another dragon?"

"Well I convinced you, and you're a start. I can make a place here for him too."

"Can you?"

"Well my people skills need some work, but I'm good with math, and all the philosophical stuff you've taught. I'm good in the forge. I'd like to think of myself as a problem solver-"

"And are the problems of Berk solved?"

"It's not that simple!"

"Isn't it?"

"No!"

"Why not?"

"Because… because I'd be arguing with my dad!"

"And if anyone on that island had the right to do that, it's you."

"So?"

"So if you're the only one who can, and you know it can help, doesn't that give you the moral responsibility to follow through? What use is being down here in Alexandria, learning all that you've learned and knowing all that you know if you will not use it to better the lives of your own people? What use are you if you aren't willing to stand up when it really counts?"

"Even if I stood up, no one would listen! Vikings have stubbornness issues."

"You're bloodline is respected."

"I wasn't!"

"You'd find allies, Hiccup. After three-hundred years of constant fighting, stubborn or not, some people on that island have to be getting tired. They have to be looking for another way."

Hiccup scowled. "Well if they did, they never spoke out."

"Neither did you. You just left. Everyone always remains silent out of fear they'll be the only voice, but think on it. Stubborn old warriors may be set in their ways, but how many mothers are weary of losing their sons? What about the youth of the village, who know they'll be entering a lifetime of war and misery?"

"They're proud to."

"Maybe because they see no other options. Read Cicero's writings on politics. Winning is a matter of demographics."

"My father and his warriors have all the power in the village."

"Warriors often do when a nation is at war. But the moment they are no longer at war, things change. You will not change the minds of those whose lives and power depends on things staying the same. You have to turn to those whose lives will be improved. Do you have a religious leader in Berk?"

"The Goethi. She's the village healer too."

Artemisia smiled. "Then I very much suspect she is tired of looking at blood and burns. Get her on your side as well. It is difficult to argue with gods, or their representatives. Not when you truly believe. Look also to the symbols which Stoick prizes. Look to your ancestors and their stories. If Berk is a nation of tradition, then rewrite history. Weaken Stoick's symbols, and he cannot fight in their name. If you convince the young and the mothers to follow you, then his warriors cannot rightly say they fight for their families. If you use your knowledge of dragons to effectively prevent raids and keep the beasts at bay with far less bloodshed, then you will be doing their jobs better than they do, and they cannot claim their way is necessary. If you want to sway those on the fence, then speak not of change, but of restoration. It'll confuse the hell out of all of them. It'll muddy their minds and weaken their resolve. Berk is in a poor state. Say you want to return it to the glory of old. Use words like Honor and Glory a lot. The Dragons are merely an accessory. A means to that end. Sweep away the ground upon which Stoick stands and he will fall."

"You make it sound so simple…"

"It is by no means simple, Hiccup. But it is what must happen to fix Berk's problems. And I would expect nothing less from you."

"And what about me and my dad?" he said miserably.

"I don't know…" Artemisia admitted, her voice equally quiet. "My father was a philosopher. Not a Viking Warchief."

"Oh, really?"

"Hiccup!"

"Sorry." He sighed and reached behind him to give Toothless a fond scratch. The dragon curled over and licked his rider's face. Hiccup said, "It's much easier, him thinking I'm dead. I'd prefer that to him thinking I betrayed the village or something… Artemisia, no one will listen to Hiccup the Useless. Whether they want the war to end or not, I was never… respected. I was the village joke. I was awkward and clumsy and I did more harm than good. They'll remember that."

"You'll find a way around that. Or you'll prove them wrong somehow. During the next lesson I'm going to give you some scrolls. Copies of Cicero's works, the writings of the Emperors Julius, Claudius and Augustus Caesar. If you're going to take power, you need to know how to keep it and make good use of it. But I don't want you here in Alexandria another month. Not when you could be in Berk, making the world a better place."

They sat in silence for some time, watching the stars wheel overhead. Sensing his distress, she said, "I shouldn't be that forceful, Hiccup. I'm sorry."

"It's alright." He replied quietly. "I understand."

"It's just that… several times throughout our history, the Library and the Museo. The whole Academy has almost fallen." She motioned up at the sky. "I know my quest is up there. What I want to examine, the questions I want to ask, they're all up there. But too often we've devoted our lives to answering all the cosmic questions. Too often we fail to address the more mundane problems of the world we fail to help where we ought to. We let it all pass us by and when our number comes up we aren't prepared. It is our duty not only to unravel the mysteries of the cosmos, but to use that knowledge to help in a real and productive way. We can balance out the insanity of the world. Your friend Shahira is a fisherman's daughter. I know she's frustrated with me and perhaps she's justified; the systems our society runs on ensure that she's not going to make it very far, whether I teach her or not. But here you sit, a Viking Prince. Someone with access to real power. Someone who could make a real difference."

"I don't want to rule."

"According to Plato's writings, the reluctant make the best rulers." She gave him a smile which he did not return. He was a little too busy trying to quell the anxiety bubbling in his chest.

"Oh, I meant to give you this." Artemisia plunged her hand into her robes. "One second- Ahh. Here it is." She pulled out a golden disc about five inches across. It was etched with intricate patterns. The edge was ruled in degrees, and Hiccup could see the months and the phases of the moon traced out on various rotating inner discs. The entire assembly was beautiful. A work of art as much as a tool of measurement.

"An Astrolabe!" Hiccup recognized the instrument. He had seen them in shops and watched the nobles and the wealthy of Alexandria use them. No instrument in the world could measure the passage of time more accurately. It could also measure angles, predict the phases of the sun and the moon. The instruments were a godsend to farmers, surveyors, navigators, and travelers across the ages. It was a tool which could only be born of civilization.

Artemisia smiled at his enthusiasm. She said, "The tool of a traveler and a philosopher." She placed it in his palm and closed his hand over it. "It was mine. It's yours now. No matter where you are in the world, when you carry this, you carry all of us with you."

A chill had infected Artemisia's classes. Artemisia treated him as warmly as she always did, but her ultimatum hovered like a shadow over all of their interactions. Before there had been nothing but brightness and optimism and a future full of learning. Now all Hiccup could see in his future was an impending deadline.

Even so, Hiccup was a dutiful student. He read Cicero thoroughly, and found in the politician's letters many lessons to be learned. He spent his off hours thinking of how he could apply them to the situation on Berk. He had read Caesar's war commentaries before, but only as casual escapism. Now he looked to Caesar's masterful tactics in Gaul, and wondered if there was something there he could use. Claudius' generals had done much the same thing in Britain, playing one tribe off against another. Keeping his own troops safe and using the internal politics of the region to weaken alliances and prevent any organized resistance. As chief, Stoick always faced conflicting interests. Perhaps they could be played off against one another…

Hiccup hated thinking like that. He did not want to be at war with his father. He just wanted everyone to get along. There had to be a way to do it without tearing Berk apart, yet the one commonality, the one brutal truth shared between all the political stories Artemisia had given him was that there were winners and losers, and that when one was playing for the highest stakes possible, brutality was commonplace. Not literal violence; Cicero had painted politics as a civilized endeavor. All the same, he had campaigned ruthlessly against his opponents. While they still had their good health, their careers and futures were certainly in shambles after he was done with them.

In less than a month, Artemisia expected Hiccup to leave Alexandria, to go back to Berk. He dreaded that deadline more than anything else in the world. He knew that no matter what happened, his life as he knew it would end.

Facing off against Stoick the Vast would have one of two results: if Hiccup lost, he would be forever cast out as a traitor. The possibility of one day returning, or of even being respected in memory would vanish and he would forever be forced to confront the fact that his own people hated him. Even worse, they might kill Toothless.

If, through some miracle, Hiccup won, he would be responsible for all of Berk. His wandering days would be done. He would never be able to return to Alexandria and browse its library. He did not feel ready for that either. He just wanted to help. He just wanted to heal. What would his dad think of him? How badly would Stoick resent his son for taking power? Would he fight to keep it? Would the power struggle actually come to blows? These questions and more haunted his waking moments. In his worst nightmares he saw Stoick rushing at him, axe raised, and Toothless stepping in to protect his rider… the image made him feel so very sick.

Artemisia had set up a small study for him at her little auditorium. From behind a lattice wall, he watched as she taught her classes. He noted the faces of her students, shining with enthusiasm and hungry for knowledge, just as he had been not so long ago. He envied them. He glanced to Shahira's usual spot near the door. It was empty.

Frowning, Hiccup turned from his scrolls and took a closer look, scanning the crowd for her signature black mane and olive skin. Was that it, then? Had she finally given up on Artemisia's lessons?

He waited patiently as the teacher lead her pupils through a review of the basics of Euclid's geometrical axioms. The class ended a half-hour later and the students filed out, a few staying behind to ask questions. Hiccup rose from his chair and emerged from behind the lattice wall, leaning against it and watching, waiting. A few of his former classmates smiled and nodded. Gestures he returned. One or two looked jealous and envious, but most of them understood that he had been graduated to a different level of learning. That was one thing he loved about the Academy; there was little enmity or politics. Everyone was there to learn as best they could. Faster, or slower, it did not matter. They were all on one team devoted to unlocking the mysteries of the cosmos.

At long last the classroom was empty. Artemisia gathered her paperwork and rolled it, carefully fitting each scroll into her bag.

"Shahira was missing." He said.

She turned and sighed heavily. "I know. She took some time off. I'm a little worried, actually."

His arms uncrossed and he took a step forward. "Worried? Why?"

"She was supposed to be here today. Her father decided to head west. Apparently there's good fishing grounds near the city of Barqah."

"Barqah..." Hiccup's heart sank. Barqah lay around seven hundred miles west of Alexandria. It was a trading port which belonged to the Arab Caliphates. Well outside Byantium's protective circle. To make matters worse, the waters to the north of that city belonged to the Emirate of Crete. No ship traveled without permission of the Saracen Pirates. Those which tried…

And Artemisia had said Shahira was supposed to be back by now. He said, "I've got to go!"

Artemisia nodded in understanding. "Be careful, Hiccup."

He burst out the door into the bright afternoon sun. The Agora was full of traders, proselytizers and wandering citizens. Hiccup ran through the thick crowds as fast as he could, ducking and weaving his way east towards the Library. He took the marble steps two at a time and ran through the open doors. Students and professors weaved their way to and fro between the bookshelves, yelping in surprise as he passed by them, and sometimes throwing up a cloud of scrolls as they fell backwards but he didn't care.

Hiccup cared about Shahira, even though they had not ended on the best of terms. She was a good person, no matter how frustrated she became, and he knew that she deserved far better than whatever the pirates might have done to her.

He found the ladder and scampered up, bursting onto the rooftop. Toothless was there, lying under the canvas sail Hiccup used to shade him from the worst of the sun's heat. He raised his head curiously as his rider approached.

"We gotta go, Bud!" Hiccup said, panting as he shucked his robes and pulled his riding leathers out of a nearby sack. "Shahira is in trouble!"

The dragon's ears perked up, and his pupils widened as Hiccup pulled out the saddle. Toothless grinned a gummy grin and bounded to his feet, quivering with anticipation.

"Yeah, that's right!" Hiccup said, "A daytime ride." The Viking took a moment to check his flight suit. It had several secret surprises in it, including miniature wings. Hiccup had decided a long time ago that he wanted not only to ride Toothless, but to fly beside him as an equal. He had managed it eventually, after several failed –and nearly disastrous- attempts. Hiccup couldn't fly, exactly, but he could glide through the clouds beside his best friend, and there was no activity more glorious. Working as quickly as he could, Hiccup checked the stabilizer spring, and made sure his wings were folded properly and tucked away. Toothless was bounding around the rooftop, tongue lolling at the prospect of flying in the daytime. It made Hiccup's heart wrench as he recalled Artemisia's question: What is there for him in Alexandria?

Perhaps going back to Berk was for the best, he thought as he swung his leg over the saddle. As fascinating and enlightening a place as Alexandria was, it was too busy a city for Toothless. It was unfair to him to be stuck on one roof for half his life. The more Hiccup thought about it, the more guilty he felt. He fixed his safety harness and then paused, patting Toothless' head. "I'm sorry, bud. We'll find a better way to do this, alright? When we get back things'll be different. I promise."

The dragon quirked his head to the side and purred quietly.

"I'm sorry." He said again.

Hiccup loved this part.

There came a moment in Toothless' acceleration when all of reality would shake. Hiccup had built a small shield he could duck behind. It took the worst of the wind away, but he could still feel himself being sucked backwards. The air around the tips of Toothless' wings would start to condense, leaving trails of white mist which flowed away in long streams behind the dragon. Hiccup lay prone along Toothless' back, trusting his safety harness to keep him held in place. He gripped the saddle's handles and tensed up, fighting against the shaking and clattering which threatened to rip him limb from limb. All the while he could hear the high-pitched whistling which had brought such fear to Berk every raid of his childhood.

Then the white trails at Toothless' wingtips would slowly crawl down the wings, thickening into a sheet of cloud formed through sheer speed. It would flow from everywhere, trailing behind them in a long tail, even forming around Hiccup himself. All the while the shaking and the pressure would increase, as if reality itself was trying to prevent him from going any faster. Hiccup would hold even more tightly against Toothless' back. He'd shut his eyes and let out a long breath as the mist condensed into a white wall. A cone of cloud. A barrier, constructed by the gods to limit their freedom.

And they'd break through it. One final mighty KRAKOOM would echo across the ocean, as if Odin's staff had just shattered. Then, for Hiccup and Toothless, all sound would cease. The pressures were too much for Hiccup to even lift his head. He was forced to lie there, eyes shut, gulping what air he could from the rushing wind, trusting his helmet, flight suit and harness to absorb the worst of the gods' wrath, and his dragon to carry them through.

When the time came Toothless would slow down. The pressures would lessen and fade. The air would return, and the two best friends would be soaring through the sky, hundreds of miles from where they had started. After he and Toothless broke through that wall, when he changed out of his flight suit, he could always see the patterns of straps and harnesses etched into his skin in purple bruises.

They were floating now, wings spread, riding the easy wind. Far ahead, just on the horizon lay the city of Barqah. Hiccup sat up and looked northeast, where he knew that the island of Crete lay, surrounded by the Saracen pirate fleet.

There existed as many different kinds of fisherman as there did sea-life. Some caught shellfish, others sharks. A variety specialized in the various kinds of fish there were to be found in the Mediterranean. The Pandevs, however, used nets to scoop up schools of larger groupers which were found at the medium depths: thirty to sixty meters. Lots of good Grouper fishing spots could be found north of Barqah. But anyone without the gold seal of permission from the Caliphate was likely to be burn, bloodied and tossed in for the sharks.

The Saracen fisherman tended to fish in groups where they could watch each other and report any illegal fishing. Hiccup started with the lone ships. The ones which kept their distances from the big fleets. The first few turned out to be Saracen fishing vessels searching for untapped grouper schools. Through his spyglass Hiccup could see their wide nets being dragged behind.

He spotted a lone vessel lurking off to the side, and swooped down below cloud level for a closer look. Light glinted off of armor, and he saw the Saracen colors being flown at the top of the mast. There was a lot of activity onboard the deck of the ship. Hiccup turned in his saddle and watched closely as its captain handed out flurry of orders, waving his arms and pointing north towards two other ships. Both of them had their sails out in full and were on a straight run with the wind. One looked to be pursuing the other. He could see through the lens, the sailors working steadily, trying to catch their prey: two sailors. A man, and a young woman with black hair and olive skin.

"Let's go Toothless." Hiccup urged, stowing his spyglass. He gripped his handles, pressed his feet into the stirrups and pulled up, flipping his dragon over in a tight summersault, clicking his pedal to adjust the false tailfin in tandem with Toothless' movements. They dived towards the ocean, picking up speed as the white-caps grew larger and larger. He leaned to the side and Toothless twirled as they fell, putting him neatly in line with the fleeing fishing vessel.

Hiccup planted his feet and pulled a second time. They were mere meters from the crashing waves when Toothless rose out of his dive. Dragon and rider whistled across the water's surface, water spraying in their wake as they buzzed by the Saracen pirate vessel Hiccup had first spotted. He grinned imagining their shocked expressions.

Up ahead the larger ship had already caught up with the smaller vessel, and Hiccup could see boarders leaping across the narrow gap. The ships were being pulled together with grapples and long boathooks.

"Hit the ropes, bud." Hiccup murmured, knowing Toothless' extraordinary ears would pick up his voice. The Night Fury fired a single shot between the ships, scorching the wood siding and burning through the grapples and boathooks. Several boarders who were about to jump slid to a halt, shocked by the sudden heat. Once again Hiccup leaned in his saddle, twisting Toothless upside down. From a scabbard on his side Hiccup drew his sword – a Roman Gladius which he had custom made during his free time at a forge in Italy. They passed between the boats, and he swung upwards, slicing through the last few ropes holding both boats together. They separated with a mighty splash, and drifted apart.

Once again Hiccup pulled Toothless into a summersault. He unhooked his harness, pulled a lever behind his knee –one which gave fin control back to Toothless, and then leapt out into the open air. As he fell he pulled the ripcords on each leg and extended his arms, spreading out the leather sails and opening his wingsuit.

On the deck ahead he could see five burly men. Two of them were holding Shahira hostage. The other three were trying to tackle Anton Pandev, but he was keeping them at bay with his own boathook.

Soaring towards them, Hiccup balled himself up and rammed into one of Shahira's captors at full speed. The crash threw all four of them across the deck. The impact rattled his teeth, but he was well acquainted with this sort of landing and recovered first. He pulled out his shield, which had been slung across his back, and brought it down on the head of one stunned pirate, cringing at the horrid cracking sound the impact made. He turned to deal with the other and realized his gladius was sticking out of the man's chest.

Loki's balls! That... had not been planned, but Hiccup had been carrying the sword when he'd jumped.

Stupid, stupid, stupid! He turned to the three other pirates, who were backing away quickly; their quarrel with Anton Pandev forgotten.

Toothless landed behind Hiccup with a heavy thump. The dragon's ears were flattened against his neck, and his wings were spread aggressively. He hissed at them and they yelped, tripping over themselves to get as far from the dragon as possible. Hiccup spared Shahira a glance. The young woman was lying on the deck, propped up on her hands. She looked lost between terror and admiration.

"Keep an eye on them, bud."

The Dragon hissed at the pirates and advanced a few steps, making his intentions perfectly clear, should any of them have decided to move. All three of them froze, letting their weapons fall to the deck. Hiccup took the opportunity to retrieve his sword, trying to block out the ugly noises and the spurts of blood as he tugged his blade out. After he had wiped his blade off on the dead man's clothing, he turned back to his captives.

"Hey guys." Hiccup waved at them as cheerfully as he could manage. "I think now would be a good time to practice your swimming." His statement was punctuated by one of Toothless' signature roars. One of the attackers crossed himself before leaping over the side. The other two didn't wait.

An arrow skipped across the deck, breaking into pieces as it bounced up and over Toothless' head. The attacking ship had recovered. It was coming around again, preparing to board. Shahira scampered away as a flurry of arrows thudded into the wooden planks. Hiccup ran towards the opposite side of the boat, leaping onto Toothless' back and taking flight. They soared up a dozen meters or so performed a tight turn. Toothless spat out two fiery blasts, one burning through the pirate ship's sails, the other hitting their bow and detonating in a blast which threw sailors and splintered boards high into the air. Its sails wrecked, the ship slowed to a crawl immediately. Anton Pandev's fishing vessel surged ahead to a safe distance. Hiccup stood in his stirrups and watched a few seconds to make sure that the ship was truly disabled. As he did so, he caught the name printed in Latin across the bow: Neptune's Pride.

Hiccup and Toothless weren't done, however. There was still the third ship, the Saracen pirate vessel he had originally spotted. Hiccup leaned into his saddle, pressing down the tailfin peddle. Toothless raced towards their second target, firing three blasts. The first hit the base of their mast, sending their sail and rigging into the crashing waves. The second hit the deck, burning through into their hull and detonating with a muffled thump. The third hit them at the waterline and blew an enormous hole in the side of the vessel, which promptly began to sink.

Hiccup and Toothless turned once again and soared lazily past Neptune's Pride to land on Anton's deck with barely a whisper. Hiccup slid off of Toothless' back and strode over to the fisherman. Anton and his daughter were working vigorously to squeeze as much speed out of the sails as possible. Yet when Hiccup approached he dropped his line and reached for his boathook.

"Oh, no no no!" Hiccup raised his hands to placate the man. "It's alright. It's okay. I'm me!" He grinned at them, and then realized his helmet was still on. He reached up and removed it, giving Shahira an awkward grin.

Her jaw was hanging open. She slowly looked him up and down, taking in his brown and black flightsuit, the floppy wings he had yet to fold up and stow away, and his blood-spattered shield with the Night Fury emblazoned on the center. Her father's gaze was fixed on Toothless, who had begun sniffing around their closed cargo hatch. Hiccup knew his dragon could smell raw fish somewhere nearby, which meant he had to resolve this before Toothless got really annoyed and decided to start digging.

"Hi guys." He tried.

They simply kept staring.

"So… did you get a good catch today?" Behind him, Toothless' snuffling began to increase in volume, accompanied by the occasional frustrated growl. Neither Shahira nor her father seemed in any state to reply. But their gazes had migrated over to Toothless, who was starting to scratch plaintively at the locked hatch.

"You…? How..? What…? What is happening?!" Shahira waved her arms, groping for words.

"I saved your life. You owe me beer."

Toothless growled and smacked Hiccup with his tail.

"-And a bucket of fish I guess."

The tail hit him a second time.

"-Two. Two buckets."

"Buckets of fish… this is what those were for? All this time? For your-" she waved an impotent hand. "What is that thing?"

"Well you know how I was being all secretive and mysterious?" Hiccup jabbed his thumb over his shoulder. Behind him, Toothless was beginning to growl angrily at the closed hatch.

""Yeah… he's the mystery. Alright… look. I am sorry about his, but he gets really hungry after long flights. I'll find a way to pay you back." Hiccup kicked the hatch open and backed up, giving Toothless some space. The dragon launched himself into the hole, wriggling back and forth, worming his way into the small cargo hold. He managed to work almost his entire body under the deck. His tail was waving contentedly in the air while under their feet, they could hear him slurping and chewing away.

Anton shook his boathook. "You ride demons, boy?"

"Okay, so… not a demon." Hiccup corrected, "He's actually just a dragon."

"Oh?" Anton asked lightly. "Is that all? Just a dragon?"

"Dragons are mythical beasts, Hiccup!" Shahira said.

Hiccup glanced back at the waving tail and turned to her. "Well at the moment my mythical dragon is eating all of your real fish, so you might want to rethink that premise. And Beast is a little harsh, and could you put that boathook down? He may be out of fire, but if he sees you threatening me, he will eat you. I'm pretty sure none of us want that. I mean… unless you do. Which I doubt."

"Hiccup…" Shahira said, struggling to collect herself.

He smiled at her. "Yeah?"

"Get out of here." She ordered.

Now it was his turn to drop his jaw. "What?"

"Get out of here. Take that thing with you."

Hiccup's fists curled with indignation. "I was helping you! You guys were in trouble!"

"We had it handled, boy!" Anton was still hostile, but at least he had put his boathook down.

"Dad…" Shahira murmured, her brow furrowing.

"That was painfully obvious." Hiccup shot back. "I'm sure those guys were boarding just to say Hi. Who were they, anyway? They weren't flying Saracen colors."

"They were other fisherman, after our catch." Anton said. "We've been through worse."

"Uh huh. And you know you're in Caliphate waters, right?"

"Hiccup, we're-" Shahira began, but was cut off by her father. He said, "The waters around Alexandria are empty, and we have to eat. It's a calculated risk."

"…Ye-yeah." Sharia agreed sullenly.

The deck shook and thumped as Toothless reappeared, looking satisfied. He was swinging his tail around happily, hitting it on absolutely everything.

"Soo… We can hang around until we're back in Alexandria?" Hiccup asked, ducking under his friend's open wing. "I could escort you back."

"We're fine." Anton said stiffly. "We can do without your beast, myth or not."

Shahira took a step towards Hiccup, but quickly retreated to her father's side the moment Toothless took notice of her. The dragon froze, his eyes were wide with curiosity. He kept glancing from Hiccup to Shahira and back.

"Shahira, it's alright." Hiccup stepped forward and reached for her hand. He spoke gently and calmly. "I know he can look scary, but he's really gentle. Just trust me. I know you were angry with me but now you know the truth. I have nothing more to hide."

She opened her mouth uncertainly, a response forming on the tip of her tongue.

"Shahira!" He father barked sternly. She shut her mouth, shot Anton a stubborn glare, and stepped forward to take Hiccup's hand. Smiling, he pulled her to him. Toothless leaned in to sniff at her, and she tensed as his breath huffed against her cheek, blowing around strands of her hair. The dragon cooed, a high-pitched bubbly noise which made her smile, despite her nervousness.

Hiccup stared down at her, transfixed by the curve of her lips, and the way the sunlight shone against her olive skin. He reached up and brushed his palm across her cheek. As always, that memory of sharp blue eyes and golden locks burned itself across his inner eye, yet he ignored it this time, and discovered that the result was not nearly as dire as he had always thought it would be. That needle in his chest, which he thought would pierce deeper, was suddenly removed. He was just left staring down at Shahira, feeling lightheaded. He had not recognized the weight of the burden he had been carrying all this time and now that it was gone…

"Hiccup-"

He kissed her. Gently at first, but he wrapped his other hand around her waist, pulling her in until her half-hearted, muffled objections ceased. Her fingertips slipped up the flight leathers and weaved slowly into his thick auburn hair. Then they curled up, tickling the back of his neck, and pulling him closer. She opened her mouth and ran her tongue gently across his lips, lighting his nerves on fire.

"OI!" Anton's voice cut through the haze.

They parted with a quiet noise, and Shahira leaned back, a blush spreading across her cheeks. Her father was glowering at them.

"Look-" Hiccup began, but she laid a finger across his lips. He could still feel her tongue there. Its absence burned him in the best possible way, and he knew that only more of that contact could soothe this sudden, desperate yearning.

She said, "We're leaving, Hiccup. My father and I are going west."

His heart dropped like a stone. The yearning deepened into a steady, painful ache, sharpened by the eight years of loneliness which had just seconds before glimpsed a possible end.

She took a step back, forcing him to loosen his grip. She said, "I'm sorry."

"The Caliphates control the Mediterranean all the way up into Spain. You'll never make it!" He said, ashamed of how pathetically plaintive his voice sounded. Toothless nuzzled him, sensing his distress.

"We'll follow the north shoreline." Anton said. "There's bound to be safe anchorage in Italy and the Frankish kingdoms. We just have to get past Crete."

"Shahira…" Hiccup said, looking back down at her. She leaned up and kissed him again, a lingering, mournful gestured which soothed the ache for but a moment, and left him feeling worse than before when their lips parted. She stepped backwards until she was once again at her father's shoulder.

"Thank you for the help, Hiccup. But we're going." She said.

"I'll miss you." He replied, the words spilling out awkwardly.

She gave him a smile. "I'll miss you too."

"Here." He unstrapped his short sword and tossed it on the deck. "It's a gladius. The type of sword used by the Roman Legions." He reached over to Toothless' saddle and pulled out a small bag of gold coins, tossing it over to land beside the sword. "This is all I have with me. You might be able to buy off someone or something. I dunno. Maybe sell your ship in Italy and then go across the land. You should be fairly safe in Carolingian territory."

"Thanks." She said shortly.

They stood there for another awkward moment before he mounted Toothless and gave her one last smile.

Shahira smirked back. "That's a good look for you, you know?"

"What is?"

"The tight leather outfit." She gestured. "It's very… daring? Soldierly? It just works, okay. It's a good look for you."

They shared one last grin, and then he slipped his helmet back on and patted his dragon's head. "Toothless."

The black wings spread with a leathery whumph, and then plunged downward, rocking the small fishing vessel and sending both dragon and rider careening into the air at high speed. Hiccup watched as the vessel, and more importantly the first woman since Astrid Hofferson to captivate him, shrank and disappeared into the murky blue vastness of the Mediterranean.

Hiccup let out a frustrated yell and lay back on Toothless, keeping his feet even in the stirrups so as not to alter the tailfin. Underneath him he could feel Toothless' uneasy growl. Toothless always grew a little agitated when Hiccup was upset. He rubbed the dragon's flank, trying to soothe him. "It's alright bud. Human problems."

Dusk was falling, and he knew that the ocean below was lit up in brilliant washes of twinkling orange and yellow. The sky above was pink and purple. The moon hung high in the sky, visible in the dusk light. A few stars were peeping out on the western horizon. There was no sound but the gentle wind.

He could still feel her tongue on his lips. That gentle caress had set his blood on fire and he ached to feel it again. The smoothness, the moisture, and the unspoken invitation that came with it. He should have stayed…

But what then? Leave Alexandria? Break his promises to Artemisia? Leave the one place in the world he felt so at home? Give up the library, and his thirst for knowledge? No. He could have stayed with Shahira. But it wasn't what he wanted.

Hiccup hoped she would make it, wherever she and her father were going. He wanted her to be happy. To live a care-free, successful life if that was what she was searching for. If that was not available for her in Alexandria, then he hoped she would find it elsewhere.

Night had fallen when they spotted the Pharos Lighthouse on the horizon, the great beacon of Alexandria. Its comforting light pierced through the darkness, welcoming him home.

They swooped down and circled the rich quarter of Alexandria, searching for Artemisia's courtyard. The city sprawled below them, a web of bright streets teeming with thousands of late-night residents. He could hear the noise, even from a full two kilometers above. It was chilly up there, but he was wearing his hooded riding cloak, transforming himself into a little bundle of warmth. He had worn it many times during their nightly flights. Indeed he had grown so warm and comfortable that he had actually fallen asleep mid-flight, and nearly slipped off of Toothless' back. The dragon knew, but there was no way he would admit that little incident to anyone else alive. Toothless of course could stand the cold just fine. He had been living as a wild dragon in Berk's climate for at least as long as Hiccup was alive.

He leaned forward and they began a shallow, languid descent, slipping gently towards the web of lights until individual torches were visible, and Hiccup could see the faces of the passersby. He knew he and Toothless were safe; anyone who bothered to look up would have their nightvision destroyed by those torches. No one ever looked up anyway. Hiccup and Toothless skimmed across the rooftops. He recognized Artemisia's outer garden and they landed with hardly a whisper.

"Stay here for a second, bud." Hiccup ordered, slipping off his helmet. He circled around to the front of the house and rapped politely on the door.

As he expected, the panel slid open revealing the face of Lugos, Artemisia's slave. The man had beady eyes, and an austere manner which made him perfect for dealing with unwanted guests. Thankfully, Hiccup Haddock was on Artemisia's shortlist.

"Master Hiccup." Lugos said, staring down his beaked nose at Hiccup. "Welcome." He unlocked the door and opened it a crack to let Hiccup through. "I'm afraid the Mistress is with company at the moment. Martius the Guard Captain is here and they are currently in the midst of a… debate." Somewhere behind the servant, Hiccup heard the sound of a smashed glass.

"It is somewhat heated, I fear." Lugos added in a weary tone.

Hiccup brushed past him and headed towards the noise. He could hear Martius roaring. The guardsmen's voice echoed through the halls. "I don't care if it's his day off or not! I want to know how he knew these people and I need to know it right now!"

Artemisia replied. Her voice was softer, and though he couldn't make out the exact words, her stern and reprimanding tone was unmistakable. He reached the wooden door to her study and gave it a tentative knock. It opened a moment later to reveal Artemisia, looking thoroughly exhausted.

"Speak of the devil." She said, standing aside to let him in. He was immediately accosted by Martius, who was looking absolutely furious. The man grabbed him by the collar and threw him roughly into a chair.

"Martius!" Artemisia snapped angrily.

Tooothless' head appeared in an open window behind the fuming guardsmen, his green eyes narrowing into hostile slits. Hiccup lowered his hand as discreetly as he could, silently signaling the dragon that he was not in danger. Even so, the dragon kept watching. To Martius, Hiccup said, "You could have just offered me a seat."

"What the hell are you wearing?" Martius was staring down at Hiccup's flightsuit, visible beneath his cloak.

"My… uniform. From the Varangians.

"Any particular reason why?"

"I felt nostalgic." Hiccup snapped, his patience wearing thin. "What's it to you?"

"What do you know about the dock shakedowns?" Martius demanded.

"I… what are you talking about?"

The guard captain planted his hands on his hips. Or rather, one hand landed on his hip, the other landed on the hilt of his sheathed sword; an unmistakable threat. "Last time we met, you told me that my guards were shaking down fishermen. What do you know about it?"

"I… I was with Shahira Pandev, and her father told me that the guards were collecting extra fees from fishermen who wanted to dock."

"And?"

"And that's it."

Martius glared at him a moment longer, then he softened and stepped back. "Did you know that the fishermen were paying them in Saracen gold?"

"What?"

The guardsmen pulled a few coins out of his pocket and tossed them in Hiccup's lap. Broad, thin gold discs, they were indeed inscribed with the names of Caliphs and Governors, all in Arabic Kufic script.

"That's…. what are you saying?" Hiccup felt his breath coming in short bursts.

Artemisia laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Hiccup, they weren't paying extra fees, they were delivering bribes."

"No…" that was impossible. There was no way Shahira would be into that. Why would she do that? The young woman's words rang in his ear: Artemisia says it's the most civilized place on the planet but there's nothing here for us…

"Did you ever see any maps getting delivered to Anton Pandev's boat?" Martius asked.

All the while Shahira had been lying to him? "That's impossible…" Hiccup murmured.

"Hiccup." His teacher tapped him on the shoulder, getting his attention.

"Did you ever see any maps getting delivered to Anton Pandev's boat?" the captain asked again.

"Yeah… yeah…" Hiccup blinked, trying to clear his head. "Umm… some map-maker. His name started with a P. But that's not-"

"Pontius." Martius said. "Owned a shop on Canopic street. We raided it earlier today. Pontius is in prison now for handing out maps detailing Alexandria's defenses. Maps for fishermen like your friends to deliver to the Caliphates."

"No!" Hiccup launched himself to his feet. "He was delivering star charts! This is ridiculous! Artemisia… you can't believe this! Shahira wouldn't do this!"

"Maybe she wouldn't." the woman said patiently, "But how well did you know her father?"

Little things began to click into place, and Hiccup realized that every question he had asked the Pandevs had been answered by Anton. He also realized what Shahira's strange little pauses had meant.

She had known… That kiss… was just misdirection! She hadn't wanted to say goodbye, she was just distracting him!

"I'm sorry, Hiccup." Artemisia looked just as torn up by the revelation as Hiccup felt.

"Kid…" Martius laid a sympathetic hand on his shoulder, but Hiccup shook him off. "I gotta go!"

"Where?"

"I have to talk to her." Hiccup growled angrily.

"Yeah? And how are you going to get out there, kid? Hire a boat?"

"Maybe."

"I already sent one to catch them: Neptune's Pride."

Hiccup froze. "Neptune's Pride…" he parroted slowly, remembering the name inscribed on the prow of the attacking vessel. Sickness overtook him, and the room began to spin. He turned around and planted both palms on the nearest table, leaning over and shutting his eyes against the sudden attacks of nausea and vertigo. He had killed two of their sailors, and left them stranded in Caliphate waters…

Hiccup had helped the enemy.

He barely heard Martius' grim voice. "It gets worse. The fact that my men are being bribed with Muslim gold means more than just a betrayal. Especially not when they're being bribed in concert with the maps. You don't accept a payment like that unless you expect you can use it soon."

"War is coming to Alexandria." Artemisia explained, her voice weak. "And without its guard, the city has no defense."

See? Stuff was happening behind the scenes. Now things finally pick up steam.

Google Astrolabe. Those things are pretty damned cool! They were like the I-Pods of the ancient world.

Cicero was one of Rome's greatest politicians, and one of the most influential Orators of all time. And of course you've all heard of Julius Caesar.