Chapter 4: Capture the Boar, Part 1
The first challenge of Viking Camp is introduced.
Bang!
The slam of a door closing woke Hiccup up. He set bleary eyes on the dark cabin. He couldn't have been asleep for very long. Did someone just leave?
The snores were overpowering. If someone had left, Gobber would have noticed. That or whoever left just needed to use the outhouse. Either way, he must have heard it in his dream. Hiccup fell back asleep.
CLANG CLANG CLANG CLANG CLANG!
Hiccup shot out of bed. Sunlight spilled into the room from the open shutters. In the center of the room, Gobber reset his helmet on his head, which he had been banging his hook against.
"Good morning to ya!" Gobber boomed, his voice like a battering ram. "Everyone, up and at it, now; we've got a whole day of training ahead of us!"
Tuffnut fell off his top bunk with a thud. Snotlout threw his blanket over his head. The Meatheads stared at Gobber like they might a wild animal. This was a small win for the Hooligans, as the Meatheads would also be subject to Gobber's unorthodox means of supervising.
Breakfast was full of nervous energy. Vikings chatted and boasted and made bets with each other as they tried predicting what challenges lay ahead. A Visithug bet it would be a stealth challenge. One Hysteric hoped for something that involved maiming. Hiccup sort of lost his appetite, but at the moment he was worried about Fishlegs.
"Fishlegs, are you okay?" He asked, prompting his other friends to pay attention.
The Ingerman was rocking back and forth on the bench, his face slightly pale. He jumped when Hiccup addressed him. "Yep– I'm good! Totally good."
He shot them a thumbs-up. No one was convinced.
"Uh, you sure about that?" Ruffnut asked. "You look like you've been breathing in Zippleback gas."
"And you haven't even touched your breakfast," Astrid added.
Fishlegs was sweating. He fanned his face with a hand, laughing almost hysterically. "Yeah, I guess I'm still a little full from last night." He stood up suddenly. "I'm gonna get some air."
Hiccup got up as well. "I'll come with you."
"No!" Fishlegs exclaimed. Hiccup and the general vicinity stared at him. Awkwardly Fishlegs cleared his throat. "Er, I mean, thank you, Hiccup, but that's not necessary. I'll see you guys later– no need to wait for me!"
He hurried out of the Mead Hall.
"What's with him?" Ruffnut wondered.
"He's probably just nervous." Hiccup said.
"I'll say," Snotlout concurred. "Thor knows he's horrible at the Thawfest games, why should this be any different?"
He chewed on a turkey leg, ignoring Hiccup's hardened look.
Afterward, the whole camp gathered in the bonfire clearing. Though the sun was visible, a fog blocked the sky and made the morning look hazy. It also made everything feel wet. The soil sunk underfoot and mud was quick to cling to people's boots and pants.
"Woah, guys– listen to the sound of my feet," Tuffnut said, and he squished his boots into the mud.
"Ahem. Listen up," the Headmaster announced, and he waited as the talking gradually shifted to hushes and then silence. "You've all got a big day ahead of you, a big day indeed…"
"I don't like this," Hiccup murmured to Astrid. He was scanning the crowd for Fishlegs, who had yet to return.
"Hmm?" Astrid was listening to the Headmaster.
"Fishlegs," Hiccup said more urgently. "I don't like the idea of any of us being on our own here. Especially not now that the Meatheads have placed targets on our backs."
Astrid was about to reply, but Snotlout's hissing voice overpowered hers. "What's Beckett think he's doing?"
Beckett was near the Headmaster, looking out over the crowd with a semblance of dominance. Hiccup was as confused as Snotlout at first, until a thought occurred to him. With them standing side by side it seemed so obvious. The proud smile, the copper hair, the teeth-like horns… Hiccup could have smacked himself for not putting it together sooner.
"And now, for the part where we will be doing things differently." The Headmaster was trying to hold back a swelling grin. "I, Mogadon the Meathead, declare there to be an official mark system this year! We all know these events turn into competitions, so why not be rewarded for your hard work?"
He walked up and down the platform energetically. "Each tribe will be judged based on teamwork. Likewise, each Viking will be judged based on individual performance. At the end of the next few weeks, a Champion from each tribe will be selected to participate in one final event."
Voices of interest responded to this announcement. While most Vikings started whispering in excitement, Snotlout had his mouth hanging open in horror.
"Wait. Mogadon the Meathead… but that makes… oh no." Snotlout gasped. "The Headmaster is Beckett's father?"
"I guess that explains the 'Meathead influence' Edgar was talking about." Astrid muttered.
Hiccup wasn't thrilled by the discovery either. Just add it to the list of things Beckett could lord over them. But he was determined to stay positive. "Hey, this doesn't have to change anything. It didn't before, when we didn't know. If we just stick to the plan–"
"Oh, yeah; your 'keep a low profile' plan." Snotlout said with air quotes.
"–then everything will be fine," Hiccup finished as if he hadn't been interrupted. "We're not here to win anything. Just stay calm, and we can all get through these challenges."
Tuffnut observed the many rows of crazed-acting Vikings. "Yeah… calm."
On the platform, Mogadon stretched an arm out to Beckett. "Anything you would like to add, son?"
"Certainly, father." Confidently Beckett joined Mogadon's side. "The more difficult the task, the greater the reward. This year will decide which tribe truly is the best in all the Archipelago."
"Yaah!" The crowd responded, and Beckett raised a fist in the air.
"Meatheads– Visithugs– Hysterics, Berserkers, and Hooligans–" his eyes flashed at the last tribe, yet nonetheless he exclaimed, "Vikings of all tribes, let's make our ancestors proud!"
"YAAH!" The crowd cheered, and Mogadon and Beckett drew an ax and a sword.
"DEFEND YOURSELVES!" Beckett roared, and the rest of the Meathead tribe unsheathed a whole assortment of weapons and charged.
"What the–" Hiccup didn't get the chance to finish. All around him, Vikings were pulling weapons out of nowhere and either retreating or running to face someone head-on. With chaos in every direction, it seemed Hiccup and his friends were the only ones not prepared for an attack, and they stood cluelessly until a black-haired Visithug boy stood on a high slope.
"Visithugs, Berserkers, Hooligans– regroup to the south side of the island!" He bellowed, and with little choice the Berkians hurried with the respective tribes away from the clearing. When they were in the cover of trees, Hiccup looked over his shoulder. The Meatheads and Hysterics, who had apparently teamed up against everyone else, were raising their fists in the air and howling.
The Vikings moved swiftly and confidently through the dense undergrowth like they were following an invisible trail. The Berkians had a harder time keeping up, and there were a few points when one of them stumbled over a tree root or scratched themselves against a thornbush.
At last the group slowed to a stop. Tuffnut dropped to his knees and planted his face in the mud. Snotlout tried not to seem like he was too out of breath. Astrid was perfectly fine.
"Okay," Ruffnut said, hunched on her knees. "What… just happened?"
The group paused to look at the black-haired Visithug boy expectantly. The boy eyed the five Hooligans. "Ah– the orientation flakers."
"We didn't–" Hiccup began.
"Don't care," The boy dismissed. "Just do what everyone else does, and don't get in our way."
Astrid was frowning. "Don't get in your way? To do what?"
"To capture the boar." He said simply, then twisted a hand in the air. "Let's move, Viserkians!"
"Viserkians–?" Astrid questioned, but she and the rest of Berk's teenagers were dragged off by a crowd of Visithugs, who without warning applied red and yellow paint patterns on their arms and faces. Astrid ripped her arm out of their grip. "Hey! What do you think you're doing?"
A familiar face appeared just behind the painters. "Sorry!" Edgar yipped, and he swung himself over a log to sit on. "It's just protocol. My tribemates should have warned you. You can't go into battle without dressing the part."
"Amen to that, brother!" Tuffnut declared, and he dropped his face in one of the Visithug's bowls of paint.
Edgar continued like he witnessed that sort of behavior daily. "And 'Viserkians' is what we call ourselves. Much easier than saying Visithug, Berserker, and Hooligan one after another."
Snotlout laughed. "What does that make the other team? The Meatsticks?"
"They call themselves the Hysteradons," Edgar replied. "I suppose they found it better to name themselves after the Meathead chieftain."
One Berserker was handing out shields and swords and coming their way. "Move along, Edgar," the Berserker said assertively. "Orientation was yesterday! It's not our problem if the Hooligans don't know what they're doing."
Edgar objected. "But we're on the same team–"
"I said, move it!" The Berserker barked, and Edgar scurried off. The Berserker shoved a weapon and a shield in each of the Hooligan's hands. "May Valhalla be far from you," he said, his eyes lingering particularly long on Hiccup.
With freshly painted arms and faces, they were pushed to stand together in a rank. A Berserker went down the line slamming helmets on uncovered heads. Hiccup adjusted his oversized helmet.
"Maybe it's a good thing Fishlegs wandered off." He muttered.
Tuffnut bounced energetically. Every inch of his exposed skin was smeared in red and yellow paint. "Are you kidding? This is going to be awesome!"
"Alright," The black-haired Visithug boy announced. "Here's the plan– I, Vigor, will lead a small troop down the north side of the island. My sister Valda will lead a bigger troop in the east. Her team will draw the enemy's attention, giving us the advantage to slip in, undetected, and steal the enemy's boar. Any questions?"
Tuffnut raised his hand. "What are we supposed to do?"
A few Vikings chuckled. "Guard the boar." Vigor replied. "Unless you go with Valda. Then you fight like your life depends on it."
"Which, it kinda does," A Berserker added casually.
Hiccup blinked. He didn't really mean that, did he? Surely he was just being theatrical. Either way, he didn't have time to dwell on it.
Vigor saluted and with his team ran into the woods. "THOR BE WITH YOU ALL!"
Ruffnut and Tuffnut exchanged glances. Then they threw their arms in the air. "We'll go with Valda!"
"Count me in!" Snotlout said, beating his bludger in his palm. "Anything for the chance to smash a Meathead's face!"
Hiccup gave a long-suffering sigh. "Snotlout, that's not what we're here for–"
"Ooh, I second that," Astrid interrupted, her eyes glowing. "Let's go!"
She led the eager Berkians to where Valda and her team were heading out. Hiccup was so astonished he didn't react right away. "Wait, what? Astrid– guys– wait! WHAT ABOUT THE PLAN?"
Either they were too excited to hear him or they didn't care. Hiccup prepared to go after them, but someone grabbed his arm.
"Uh, I think Valda's team is full," the bigger boy said to Hiccup, looking at him from head to toe. He then cleared his throat. "Come on, someone has to defend the boar. You can find him for us."
"Find him?" Hiccup repeated.
"Yeah, of course," the Berserker said. "What, you thought we'd know exactly where he was? That'd make it too easy! We find our boar, then we guard him from the enemy. Simple as that." He shoved a horn in Hiccup's hands. "Blow this if you find him. If you're lucky, we'll make it to you before the Hysteradons do."
He smacked Hiccup on the back, which was about the equivalent of being hit with a battering ram. Hiccup rolled his shoulder and watched the remaining Vikings slink away in the forest. Very quickly, he was the last one standing in the small clearing. Feeling like this was only the beginning of many headaches to come, Hiccup picked a random direction and started searching.
He kept the sword and shield. If there was a loose boar in the woods, he needed to be prepared. But it wasn't the boar he was after.
"Fishlegs," Hiccup called. Only birdsong answered him. "Fishlegs, you here?"
The sun was poking out of the morning mist. Soggy leaves squelched under his boot. A rabbit hopped across his path. It was quiet. No one would think there were Vikings getting ready to fight senselessly with one another not far away.
Clearly this 'capture the boar' challenge was one of the Viking Camp traditions. Everyone had treated it with such familiarity. It would be comforting to know that no one was really trying to kill each other. Hiccup tried to remember if Gobber ever mentioned any fatalities in the previous years.
His mind was still buzzing over how quickly his friends had abandoned the plan. Did anything he said get through to them? Then again, they didn't necessarily do anything wrong. What was so bad about participating in the challenges? In fact, wasn't that the point of going to Viking Camp, to give honor to their tribe? Logically, it made sense. So why did it leave such a bad taste in his mouth?
A dull thump disturbed the undergrowth up ahead. A flock of birds took off, chittering in alarm. Hiccup paused.
"Fishlegs?" He wondered if it was too much to hope for. More bushes stirred as something moved through the forest, coming closer, and closer. Hiccup raised his shield. "Uh… Fishlegs…?"
It was definitely not Fishlegs. There was a hefty snorting noise, and Hiccup saw a coarse black body past the green foliage. Hiccup gaped as he watched it move. It had to have been at least the size of Gobber, if not bigger. He stepped backwards.
A growl emitted from the bushes. Did boars growl? The bushes shook more violently. Hiccup wouldn't take a chance with a normal sized boar, much less whatever monster this was. He turned and fled.
A thorn bush snagged on his pant leg. Hiccup fell, dropping his sword and horn. Twisting around, he meant to grab them, but they were too far in the thorns for him to reach. He tugged against the thorns which clung to him even more. There was another growling noise, accompanied by a loud "Snuff!", and Hiccup tore himself away.
Suddenly he was in the air. He stumbled down the unexpected slope, half-rolling, half-falling all the way to the bottom. His helmet had fallen off somewhere along the way, and his shield slided to a slow stop in front of him. Hiccup grabbed the shield and rolled behind a tree.
Nothing happened. Maybe the slope was too steep for the creature's liking. With bated breath, Hiccup peered over the side of the tree, his shield upright. He could hear the wild animal snapping logs and cracking undergrowth in its gait.
Something came barrelling from behind. Hiccup was thrown to the ground, and there was no time to run, no chance to defend himself. He shut his eyes, waiting for the inevitable.
"Hiccup!" Said a surprised person.
It took a moment for Hiccup to process it was Fishlegs' voice. It took another moment for him to uncurl himself out of the fetal position. He looked up at the Ingerman, whose eyes were wide open and immensely guilty.
"Fishlegs!" Hiccup gasped, putting a hand on his chest. Although incredibly relieved it hadn't been the boar, he was annoyed that Fishlegs had snuck up on him– a bad habit he seemed to have picked up recently. "Where've you been? I've been looking for you since breakfast!"
"Oh. You have?" Fishlegs didn't sound sorry. He sounded more like he was distracted. "Sorry!"
He grabbed Hiccup's hand and pulled him up. Hiccup dusted off his fur jacket, trying to maintain some dignity. "What are you doing out here by yourself?" He asked.
Fishlegs stuttered. "Well, I, I was just– hey, you're out here by yourself, too!"
"Yeah, looking for you!" Hiccup countered. "Not that I asked to be chased in the woods."
Fishlegs's face went red. "I'm not all that thrilled to be forced into doing challenges either, Hiccup! And, for your information, I was just on a walk. It may shock you to know this, but I'm not good at these Viking things, okay? There! I said it! Is that what you wanted to hear? Are you happy now??"
Hiccup just stood there. Fishlegs slapped his hands over his mouth.
"Sorry," he moaned. "I'm just a little stressed."
"Yeah, I can see that." Hiccup replied. He glanced up the slope he had come from. In his mind's eye, he could still envision the creature, shrouded in darkness, though now he could see nothing but the woods. He changed the subject. "Have you seen any of the others?"
Fishlegs plucked a few briars out of his coat. "No; in fact, I haven't seen anyone since breakfast. I left early, remember?"
"Fair enough," Hiccup sighed. "We should probably go check it out."
It was better than waiting for the boar to come back. Also, their friends were in that fight, and Hiccup wouldn't forgive himself if one of them got hurt. Within time, he and Fishlegs reached the edge of the woods, back into the main clearing. A few Hysterics prowled about, but there was no sign of the other tribes.
"Where are they?" Hiccup mumbled.
"Hiccup, look!" Fishlegs whispered.
To one side of the clearing, Hiccup spotted a black-haired girl, probably Valda, and a couple of other Visithugs watching in the trees. An ambush, by the look of it. Hiccup wondered where the rest of the attack party was.
"No, over there!" Fishlegs corrected, and Hiccup followed his pointed finger. Beckett was leading some of the Meatheads in a fern tunnel. The Visithugs had their eyes fixed on them, waiting for them to walk under their path. But beyond them was another team, whom Hiccup recognized as Hysterics, crouching among the taller branches and getting steadily closer to Valda.
"Should we do something?" Fishlegs fretted, but they had no chance. The Hysterics dropped on the Visithugs's shoulders, and while some battled to stay balanced most of them were quickly knocked down to the forest floor. With Valda's crew distracted, Beckett and the Meatheads charged freely into Viserkian territory.
Hiccup didn't need time to weigh the odds. It was him and Fishlegs, weaponless, facing six battle-hungry Vikings who, although they may not have been out to kill anyone, still carried swords and axes. Hiccup and Fishlegs got out of their way.
Beckett found this highly amusing. "That's it? You're not even going to try?"
"If you want to go hunting for an out-of-control wild boar, then be our guest," Hiccup replied, and Fishlegs nodded in assertive agreement.
"Wild boar–?" Beckett repeated, and at once he and the Meatheads laughed. Hiccup and Fishlegs exchanged wary glances. Soon Beckett got control of himself. "Wait. You think it's an actual boar we're after?"
"If by 'actual boar' you mean a real, live one that chased us earlier, then yes," Hiccup said, wondering if this was their idea of a trick. He missed the confused look Fishlegs shot him.
The Meatheads snorted out even more laughter to where they could hardly talk between breaths. "I guess with you, anything could be perceived as a wild boar," Beckett finally gasped out, and he gestured for his friends to follow. "Let's go, Meatheads!"
They charged along, kicking up mud in their wake. Fishlegs wiped the mud off his face.
"Hiccup, did you say you were chased by a wild boar?" Fishlegs asked, and Hiccup glared in the direction the Meatheads disappeared to.
"Yeah, right before we ran into each other." Hiccup explained. "It must have run away when it saw the two of us together."
"Really?" Fishlegs blinked, glancing at the sky. "I don't remember seeing anything. Or hearing anything."
Hiccup turned his glare from the woods to Fishlegs. "I did see one, and it did come after me."
"Okay!" Fishegs shot his hands in the air. "I just didn't notice, that's all."
Hiccup was annoyed, but then he noticed something else in Fishlegs. Worry? He supposed that made sense; who wouldn't be worried of a rampant creature running loose in the woods? It was enough to make Hiccup calm down– and feel a little guilty for snapping.
"What do you think Beckett was talking about?" Fishlegs asked.
"He's probably just trying to confuse us–"
"CHARRRRRGE!"
The clearing exploded with Vikings. Reinforcements had returned to defend Valda's team of Visithugs. Caught off guard, some of the Hysterics ran and others made feeble attempts to fight back, but the Visithugs and Berserkers were fierce. The Hysterics retreated into the east woods, where unfortunately for them, a second team of Visithugs intercepted them.
Vigor slowed down in front of Fishlegs and Hiccup. "Oh, good– you must have found our boar and secured him in an impenetrable hiding place, since there's no other reason I'd see you out here, not at your post," Vigor said, and he sounded almost friendly, but with a hint of warning. Hiccup didn't respond right away, and a flicker of ice appeared in Vigor's eyes. "Well. I suppose that's what we get for putting… you in charge of the boar."
Okay, so Hiccup was fully aware he wasn't made for Viking activities. But he could also say, without a doubt, that it would have taken ten Vikings at least to control the monstrosity he faced. He was about to say this, but Vigor wasn't finished.
"Do you at least have the horn?" He asked.
"I don't have anything," Hiccup said indignantly. "I dropped it in the woods when I found the boar."
"You mean you found the boar," Vigor began, looking like he hardly believed what he was saying. "and you ran away from it?"
Hiccup was too amazed to reply. Surely these Vikings didn't believe the boar would be so easily conquered? The way Vigor and a few others were staring at him, Hiccup might as well have been describing how he ran away from a bunny.
"Nevermind," Vigor dismissed, his expression sour. "My team is going back to the Hysteradon side– we have yet to locate the enemy boar. The rest of you, find our boar! Don't let the enemy take it first!"
Horrible glares and sneers were sent to Hiccup as the others returned to their own side of the woods. Hiccup stayed where he was. Beckett had been highly amused at the idea of a wild boar. Vigor and the other Visithugs just now didn't comprehend Hiccup's explanation of why he thought saving his life was a better plan than guarding a beast that clearly had no problem defending itself. Either these Vikings were insane, like actually insane, or…
"Fishlegs," Hiccup said, his voice going worriedly tight. "What if the boar… wasn't a boar?"
Fishlegs blinked. "What do you mean?"
The last of the Visithugs were still filtering out of the clearing. Edgar came across them and raised his helmet in a friendly manner. "Oh– I guess no one explained to you yet," Edgar said apologetically. "The term 'boar' is used to describe our secret weapon. Basically, if the other team finds our secret weapon and takes it to their side, we lose. And vice versa."
"Uh… is 'secret weapon' a term used to describe something more specific?" Hiccup asked, and Edgar nodded.
"Sure is! The boar, or secret weapon, is a teammate." He put his helmet firmly on his head again. "So now you've got to find out which teammate it is! Good luck!"
He bounded after his tribe.
"Well, that's good news!" Fishlegs decided, relief flooding his face. "Here I thought we were hunting after a real boar."
Hiccup however didn't see it as good news. His heart sank to the bottom of his stomach. If the boar wasn't a real boar, then what did he see in the woods?
I'm aliiiive!!
Uh... yeah, that's pretty much all I have to say. o_o
Guys, if anyone at all is reading this, wow. You are brave to try a story that is as infrequently updated as six years. Thank you so much for giving this story a chance, and I hope it was worth the read!
Let me know in a review if you like it/hate it/whatever, I'm just curious who's out there!