hacked off at the roots.
It was hard to look
at his face now it was
edged with that rough,
ragged desecration.
That was the worst
thing you could do to a
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Viking Warrior. It was like hacking off a
lion’s mane.
Gobber’s ex-beard was now hanging
like a scalp from Alvin’s waist, and Alvin
ran it jeeringly through his fingers, and
shook it at Gobber tauntingly.
‘I have your beard, old man,’ he chanted softly
through his mask. ‘I have your beard.’
But Gobber was alive, at least.
And still fighting.
‘SNOTLOUT!’ bellowed Gobber, ‘I offered you
the chance to change sides back in the Slavelands. I
said then that you would be an asset to the Company
of the Dragonmark. I withdraw that offer. You are a
disgrace to your name and your Tribe!’
Snotlout bit his lip. But he recovered to say
contemptuously: ‘Well, at least I’m not locked up in a
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cage. Now that really would be a disgrace.’
The Alvinsmen soldiers laughed uproariously at
that.
‘Better a noble slave, than a free dog,’ shouted
Gobber.
Snotlout flushed.
‘You betrayed me,’ said Snotlout fiercely. ‘You
betrayed everything you ever taught me about life.
And look what has happened, look at the result of this
weakness!’ Snotlout gestured to the world outside.
‘The world at war! The dragons on the edge of
destroying us all! And still you are saying that it is I who
am the traitor? You are the traitor! You are all traitors
to the world that I loved!’
‘How dare you call me traitor!’ roared Gobber.
‘Do you think I find it any easier than you, you shrimp,
that the world has changed around me? But that world
has already vanished, and the choice we have to make
now is between Hiccup and Alvin, who even you must
be able to see is the essence of evil!’
‘Thank you very much,’ said Alvin, gratified.
‘We may be prisoners-of-war,’ bellowed Gobber,
‘but we can still Turn Our Backs on you, Snotlout!
Dragonmarkers! I invite you all to Turn Your Backs
on this dog, this turncoat, whose name shall be passed
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down forever as a byword for treachery and deceit!’
Inside his cage, the old Warrior Turned His Back, and
all around him, the captured Dragonmarkers, Mogadon
the Meathead and his son Thuggory… Grabbit of
Grim… Sporta… Harriettahorse… did the same.
‘You can’t see me in my box,’ said Camicazi. ‘But
I am Turning My Back as well.’
Snotlout’s eyes were feverishly bright. He
pretended, with his usual bravado, that he really did
not care about his old teacher and comrades Turning
Their Backs on him. It didn’t bother him in the least.
‘Well, I would be more upset by you Turning
Your Backs on me,’ sneered Snotlout, ‘if it weren’t for
the fact that you are the same people who have chosen
Hiccup as your Leader. I mean, just look at him…’
The Dragonmarkers who had Turned Their
Backs looked over their shoulders a little thoughtfully
at Hiccup, and some of them were suddenly gripped
by doubt. Hiccup was a particularly pathetic sight at
that moment, half white, half purple, his left hand
side dragging like a bird with a broken wing, his arm
flopping at his side as if it were stuffed with rags, his
helmet loose on his head.
‘And Hiccup is so stupid,’ sneered Snotlout, ‘he
has even brought the Last Lost Thing with him…’
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Almost unable to believe his luck, Alvin reached
inside Hiccup’s waistcoat with his hook, and drew out
a struggling, furious, wriggling, coatless little Toothless.
Hiccup looked at the floor, not quite able to bear
seeing the gaze of his followers turning from belief to
disappointment.
‘L-L-LET Toothless go!’ squealed Toothless. ‘I
told my mean Master this was a v-v-very bad idea!’
‘Oh,’ gasped the witch, in ecstasy, ‘oh this is too
good to be true. The Last Lost Thing as well…’
Gobber and the Dragonmarkers gasped in
horror.
Their last hope… gone.
‘This time we will keep
good care of the last Lost
Thing,’ grinned the witch,
‘and hide it immediately
with the others. Snotlout,
you have excelled
yourself!’
Snotlout bowed
low before the witch and
Alvin.
‘Will you do
me the honour
of entrusting me to carry the last Lost Thing to the
hiding-place where you keep the other Lost Things?’
said Snotlout.
His voice was light, casual.
The witch’s eyes narrowed.
‘That is a very great secret. Nobody knows where
we have hidden those Things.’
‘I have proved my loyalty to you both by betraying
my former Tribe and kinsmen,’ said Snotlout. ‘I am
now no longer a Hooligan, but Alvin’s loyal subject, an
Alvinsman of the Wilderwest.’
The witch thought a while, regarding the boy
in front of her with her acute serpent eyes, and then
she hissed softly, ‘We are of course full of gratitude to
you for your services to Alvin and to the Wilderwest,
Snotlout, and you shall receive your just reward.
‘However…’
The witch stood in front of Snotlout, her eyes
glittering with malice.
‘I am not sure that I am going to entrust you
with that secret…’ she sneered, and every word
was like the thrust of a thin, sharp, knife. ‘You have
brought me the Hiccup boy, the toothless dragon, sure
enough. But do you think that means that I will trust
you with the location of the Lost Things? You are a
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turncoat, a weasel. You make a good minion, and you
are irrevocably bound to our side now that you have
betrayed your own forever.
‘They would never take you back. No, you are
ours now, Snotlout, ours forever.’
Snotlout flinched, as if realising for the first time
what being the witch and Alvin’s forever, really meant.
‘And you will have your little place in our new
Kingdom,’ continued the witch. ‘But I do not trust a
weasel, no. For I can see into the weasel’s mind.’
Now the witch’s voice was honey-sweet, and that
was always when she was being the most vicious.
‘You might be planning to steal those Things, in a
bid to become King yourself. You know, in your heart
of hearts, that you are not good enough, but against all
evidence you might have hoped, you poor boy…’
Something in Snotlout’s face, a twitch of his
mouth perhaps, betrayed that the witch might be right.
But proud as he was, Snotlout said nothing.
‘You might have thought to trick us all. But,’
and now the witch’s voice hardened, ‘Fate knows her
business, and she has always only picked two players as
possible Kings: Alvin or Hiccup. You were never good
enough, for all your fine Viking qualities.’ Sarcasm
dripped from her voice, and Snotlout flinched. ‘Fate
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has shown you what you really are, and what you really
are, is a treacherous worm.’
There was a dreadful solemn silence in the Hall,
as if everyone was witnessing a bloodless death.
If you could kill a person with words, stab them
with the pure shock of your spite, why, that witch was
the person to do it.
Snotlout looked as if he
was about to throw up.
Even the Alvinsmen
were gazing at him with
contempt.
Nobody likes a traitor.
Snotlout opened his
mouth to speak.
No words came out, and
he closed it again.
He bowed his head,
and his shoulders sagged, and
he made himself take up as
little space as possible, as if
he wished for invisibility. He
stepped back into the shadows.
Having thus dispatched
Snotlout, the witch passed the
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cage containing Toothless to Very Vicious the Visithug,
to whom she whispered the secret hiding place of the
Lost Things. The implication was clear. Very Vicious
was not as clever as Snotlout, but he was a lot more
trustworthy.
Toothless’s wailing cry was unbearable.
Hiccup could not look at him. He felt like he was
the traitor, and he had betrayed Toothless.
ALL MY FAULT, thought Hiccup. ALL MY
FAULT.
Inside the cage, Toothless’s spines were drooping
pathetically.
‘M-m-master! Don’t let them take me! Please
don’t let them take me! Toothless is yours… and I’m
the b-b-best Lost Thing…’
‘Trust me, Toothless! It will be fine… I’ll
rescue you, Toothless! Don’t worry, it’s all part of
Plan B!’ Hiccup called after him in Dragonese, so that
no one else could understand,
But he couldn’t be sure that Toothless heard, as
Very Vicious had already hurried out of the door.
‘Now we have all the Lost Things!’ the witch
cried to the captured Dragonmarkers. ‘Your cause
is hopeless! As soon as we turn up on the beach
tomorrow, Alvin will be accepted as the new King! It is
not too late to repent and turn to Alvin’s side!’
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‘WE STILL STAND BY HICCUP!’ roared
Gobber the Belch.
The Dragonmarkers yelled their defiance, some
more certain than others.
‘HIC-CUP! HIC-CUP!’
‘HICCUP FOREVER!’
‘That’s very loyal of you,’ purred the witch
between gritted teeth, ‘very loyal indeed to stand by
Hiccup. But the question is, will the boy stand by you?
CHAIN THE BOY UP!’
11. THE TESTING OF
A HERO
Rough hands wound chains around Hiccup until he
was trussed up like a chicken.
‘Mother, what are you doing?’ said Alvin, uneasily
through his mask. ‘What did I tell you last time? I have
been dealing with this kid for quite a while and the
only thing to do with him is to kill him the second we
have him in our hook! We have all the Things now.
We should just kill him, and then we should kill all his
Dragonmarker followers.’
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‘We can’t go around killing everybody, Alvin
sweetest,’ said the witch piously, ‘for if we did, we’d
have no subjects left. We need to change the minds
of his followers, turn them into Alvinsmen, and
then we won’t have to kill them. It’s politics, Alvin
darling. Leave the politics to me. OPEN UP THE
TRAPDOOR!’
CREEEAKKKKKK!
A huge trapdoor opened in the middle of the
room, directly on to the sea below.
‘Hiccup is going to break the
loyalty of these irritating followers of
his by telling us where Stoick and
Valhallarama and the rest of the
Dragonmarkers are hiding,’ said
the witch.
Stoick and Valhallarama’s secret underground
hideout was at Coral Beach, the other side of
Wrecker’s Bay. But neither the witch nor the Dragon
Furious had discovered this yet.
‘I most certainly am not,’
said Hiccup, as strongly and
as defiantly as he could,
given that he was almost
paralysed with fear.
‘I can assure you,
you most certainly are,’
said the witch.
‘You are going
to tell me where
your mother and
the rest of the
Dragonmarkers
are hiding,
or else I am
going to lower
you down into
this freezing
water, wrapped in chains, and leave you down there
until you see sense, or you drown, whichever is the
sooner.’
‘I will never betray my friends,’ said Hiccup,
really, really hoping that this was true.
‘You heard him, he said NEVER!’ said Alvin.
‘Never is a long word,’ replied the witch. ‘The
Winterfleshers have gathered, so Hiccup will not only
have freezing water to contend with, but the bite of
Winterfleshers. Winterfleshers are small but they are
deadly in packs, and they will certainly attack a chained
child.’
Winterfleshers were small but unpleasant
dragons, a little like piranhas. When they attacked in
shoals they could strip a deer down to its skeleton
in precisely three minutes.
‘SHAME ON YOU!’ cried
Gobber.
The Dragonmarkers howled
their disapproval and horror.
‘But he might get away!’
warned the strangled voice of Alvin
through the mask.
‘Pish posh,’ purred
the witch. ‘You worry
too much, Alvin, my
little lobster-pot. He’s
completely wrapped
in chains! How can he
possibly get away? The boy
is not superhuman! He’s
not even a Hero! He’s
just a perfectly ordinary
small boy. You will realise
this when he betrays his own
people, and you Dragonmarkers
will see that your so-called Leader is not worthy of your
loyalty…
‘LOWER HIM THROUGH THE TRAP DOOR!’
screamed the witch. ‘AND EVERYBODY, FEEL
ABSOLUTELY FREE TO CHANGE SIDES AT
ANY MOMENT!’
The witch’s plan was very simple. To lower
Hiccup down into the icy freezing water of the Bay,
water so mind-numbingly cold that it entered the very
soul and rendered it dead as an iceberg.
She would dip Hiccup in that w
ater, like a sword
smith quenches a sword. Would it make Hiccup, or
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break Hiccup?
Hiccup did not know.
He looked down into
the grim, soulless water,
and he was shaking already.
He had fallen into the sea in
winter before, and he knew
how it almost burned you
at first, and how quickly you
turned numb, as if you had
ceased to exist.
He also knew what a
surprisingly short time it took to
die in the winter sea – two, three
minutes, perhaps?
Please don’t let me give in…
thought Hiccup to himself. Please
let me be braver than I think I am…
Down.
Down.
Down.
Hiccup was lowered, by two
Alvinsmen Warriors, down, down
into the cold, cold sea.
Oh, it was so
cold.
It was so cold
that as it tightened
round his chest,
squeezing all the breath
out of him, it was as if
he were being crushed
in the fist of a Frost
Giant – or was it a Fire
Giant? At temperatures
that low, they are one
and the same.
The witch left
him under the water a
good minute before she
brought him up again.
It was a truly
terrifying minute for
Hiccup, trying to
hold his breath in the
freezing sea, trying to
deal with the panic, when
it seemed like he couldn’t
hold his breath any longer but
knew that if he opened his mouth he would not breathe
in sweet air but water.
When the witch drew him up, Hiccup was
frost-cold and limp, like a doll with all the stuffing
taken out of it. But there was not a mark on him.
The witch was puzzled.
‘I don’t understand…’ she hissed. ‘What about
the Winterfleshers? Are there none down there?’
‘There seem to be plenty,’ said Alvin. ‘But I told
you, Mother, he’s tricksy… very tricksy…’
The witch lifted up the visor on Hiccup’s helmet.
‘Well?’ said the witch. ‘Are you ready to tell me
where the Dragonmarkers hideout is?’
How To Train Your Dragon: How to Betray a Dragon's Hero Page 10
