How to Train Your Dragon: How to Speak Dragonese

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How to Train Your Dragon: How to Speak Dragonese Page 11

by Cressida Cowell


  ‘Ziggerastica!’ screamed Hiccup. ‘HURRY UP!’

  The Sharkworms were so close they were

  nearly touching each other now as they swam round

  and round. One of them let out a jet of fire like an

  underwater torpedo and the barrel burst into flames.

  ‘And now, my clever friend,’ said Alvin,

  watching the floating, flaming barrel with the four

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  predators surrounding it, ‘O Defeater of the

  Seadragonus Giganticus Maximus and the Mighty

  Monstrous Strangulator – let’s see you get out of

  THIS situation! I think I may safely say I’ve got you

  now…’

  All four Sharkworms reared out of the water

  at the same time and spread out their wings.

  They were a terrifying sight.

  These two-headed beasts had eyes out on

  stalks, rather like a hammerhead shark. They were

  sometimes known as Thor’s Lapdogs because of

  those hammer-shaped heads. Their back set of teeth

  could shoot forward to grab prey and then retreat

  back, dragging the unfortunate victim with them, as

  the tongue of a lizard flicks out to catch a fly.

  Their hammerhead eyes swivelled on their

  stalks, their powerful tails lashed the water. They

  drew back their first sets of teeth in vicious snarls

  and the second sets shunted forward as if they had a

  life of their own, madly snapping together like an

  automatic killing mechanism.

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  For a moment they hovered in a terrible ring,

  their hammerhead eyes swivelling on their stalks to

  focus in on their target.

  And then they let out a scream and pounced,

  all of them diving in on the barrel together…

  CRACK!

  The barrel split from side to side, and to the

  utter amazement of the watching Vikings, the

  audience, and the Sharkworms themselves… Hiccup

  FLEW out of it.

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  20. HICCUP THE GOD

  The Romans flocked to the Circuses in their

  thousands to be entertained.

  They expected a glorious theatrical experience –

  blood, guts, heroism, feats of astonishing physical

  prowess.

  They were certainly getting their money’s worth

  NOW.

  This was a sight no one had ever seen before.

  A flying boy?

  The crowd leaped to their feet, amazed.

  Fishlegs nearly fell out of the boat.

  And slowly, majestically, Hiccup rose up through

  the rain with his arms spread out wide, as if held up

  by magical forces.

  ‘Brilliant,’ whispered Camicazi. ‘I don’t know

  HOW he’s doing it, but it’s brilliant.’

  Hiccup rose and rose up to the metal ‘ceiling’ of

  the amphitheatre, the netting

  that the sharp teeth of the

  Flashfangs had failed to bite

  through in their terror…

  At a single stroke of

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  Hiccup’s

  hand the

  netting split in

  two…

  He burst through and hung in the air,

  every awestruck eye upon him.

  The Fat Consul fell to his knees. Even Alvin’s

  jaw dropped.

  ‘MY NAME,’ boomed Hiccup, in a voice he

  had never used before, ‘MY NAME IS THOR THE

  THUNDERER, ANCIENT GOD OF THE VIKING

  TRIBES!’

  The crowd gasped.

  ‘WELL MAY YOU TREMBLE,’ bellowed

  Hiccup. ‘FOR YOU ROMANS HAVE INVADED

  SACRED VIKING TERRITORIES AND MADE ME

  MAD…’

  ‘We’re very, very sorry…’ stammered the Fat

  Consul.

  ‘FOR THIS,’ boomed Hiccup solemnly, ‘I HAVE

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  SENT A PLAGUE UPON YOU AS THEIR

  LEADER…’

  The Consul scratched himself miserably.

  ‘AND I SHALL PLAGUE YOU FOR EVER

  UNLESS YOU PROMISE TO GO FROM HERE

  AND NEVER RETURN.’

  ‘We promise,’ said the Consul. ‘Here,’ he

  sobbed, ‘I offer you my shield, O Mighty One, as a

  sign of your protection from the Romans. Never

  again shall we come this far north.’

  ‘I WILL TAKE YOUR SHIELD AS A SIGN OF

  YOUR PROMISE,’ cried Hiccup, ‘AND ALSO THE

  BOOK YOUR SERVANT STOLE FROM ME… OH,

  AND ONE MORE THING…’

  ‘Anything, anything,’ pleaded the Consul.

  ‘I EXPECT YOU TO BE A STRICT

  VEGETARIAN FOR THE REST OF YOUR LIFE.’

  The godlike Hiccup flew towards the Consul’s

  balcony.

  Still on his knees, the Consul offered him the

  rectangular Roman shield. Alvin put his trembling

  hand into his breast pocket and found the tattered

  copy of How to Speak Dragonese, the two halves sewn

  together carefully with golden Roman thread.

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  He fumbled to get rid of the booby trap he had

  placed inside the book. For Alvin was a careful man.

  He had slipped something very nasty indeed between

  the pages, a nanodragon called the Venomous

  Vorpent, so that anybody who tried to steal the book

  would get a horrible shock. But one does not booby-

  trap a god, and Alvin was desperately trying to shake

  out the poisonous nanodragon, when he caught a

  close-up sight of the shirt Hiccup was wearing…

  ‘Hang on a second…’ said Alvin.

  But it was too late.

  Hiccup snatched the book from him (still with

  the Venomous Vorpent inside it, please note), and rose

  swiftly into the air.

  He held the shield victoriously above his head

  and made his final speech.

  ‘I HOLD THE SHIELD AS A SIGN OF YOUR

  PROMISE… BUT IF YOU EVER BREAK THAT

  PROMISE, YOU CAN TELL YOUR CAESAR THAT

  THE FORCE OF MY ANGER SHALL REACH

  INTO THE HEART OF THE EMPIRE AND ROME

  HERSELF WILL BE SWEPT AWAY BY THE

  DELUGE…’

  Hiccup pointed his sword at the dam.

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  Right on cue a couple of cracks appeared.

  And the dam split in half and numberless tons of

  seawater burst into the stadium.

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  21. YOU CAN’T KEEP A

  BOG-BURGLAR UNDER

  LOCK AND KEY

  The spell that Hiccup had cast on the audience was

  instantly broken.

  It was as if they had been sleeping, and had

  suddenly woken up to the reality that they were about

  to be swept away by the flood.

  Furthermore, everyone had forgotten about the

  Sharkworms. The metal netting that should have

  protected the audience had been broken by Hiccup.

  The Sharkworms were back in the water again and they

  were already nearly able to reach the wooden seating.

  The audience screamed in terror as one of the

  Sharkworms leaped upward and was almost among

  them… it lost its grip on the slippery edge and fell back

  into the water – but the water was rising so quickly it

  was clearly only a matter of time before it succeeded in

  getting up to their level.


  Suddenly the afternoon’s entertainment of

  ‘SURVIVAL OF THE FITTEST’ had taken an

  interesting twist. The audience who had laughed so

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  heartily at the tables being turned on the greedy

  Flashfangs didn’t seem so amused to find they

  themselves had become the prey…

  They stormed towards the entrance, shoving each

  other out of the way and screaming for the doors to be

  opened.

  The pressure of the water on the doors caused

  them to open anyway. They burst apart and the water

  poured out and down the hillside.

  Fishlegs and Camicazi turned their attention to

  steering the boat.

  The flying Hiccup descended and landed beside

  them on the deck.

  Toothless appeared from nowhere and perched on

  his shoulder.

  ‘I am lost for words,’ said Camicazi. ‘How did you

  do it?’

  Hiccup pointed to his shirt. ‘Look a little closer,’

  he said.

  The Vikings craned forward. Hiccup’s shirt

  seemed to have changed colour. Indeed, when they

  looked closer still, it seemed not to be a shirt at all. It

  was made up of millions and millions of tiny winged

  creatures, all practically invisible to the naked eye and

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  all clinging to Hiccup’s clothing

  underneath. This was what had caused

  Hiccup to fly.

  The numberless armies of Ziggerastica.

  The little nanodragon himself flew out from his

  position of command on Hiccup’s chest to bow to the

  Vikings.

  ‘This terrible, terrible plan,’ announced

  Ziggerastica joyfully, ‘has worked beautifully. I,

  Ziggerastica the Mighty, have made it do this! How

  wonderful I am! How Glorious is my Empire! How

  numerous and powerful are my peoples!’

  ‘We were lucky, too,’ grinned Hiccup.

  ‘I am almost sorry to leave you, O-Boy-With-No-

  Muscles-At-All,’ said Ziggerastica sorrowfully. ‘But we

  are quits now, I have saved your life in exchange for you

  saving mine and you are still a stinking HUMAN after

  all…’

  ‘Thanks,’ said Hiccup.

  ‘But this has been a great day for the little

  creatures of the

  world …’

  Ziggerastica gave a single

  command and the

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  nanodragons instantly rose in a

  grey mass, like a small thundercloud,

  and disappeared into the sky.

  As they rose, they sang a song that the Romans

  would have been wise to listen to… but they were too

  busy panicking.

  A WARNING TO EMPERORS

  Watch out

  O Romans with your Empires and your Stinking Breath

  Watch out for the smaller things of this world

  For we are going to get you… one day

  You live your lives up in the skies

  Building your aqueducts and your coliseums

  And you never think of US

  Ticking away in the grasses

  But we see you

  And if you bend your ear you just might hear

  The steady beat of countless feet that come to eat

  The wall that curls a hundred miles across a continent.

  That temple built with the tears of millions of slaves

  And all your most mighty and splendid creations

  Shall turn to dust in our mouths

  So watch out

  O Caesars with Fat Bottoms and Hard Hearts

  Watch out

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  ‘Goodbye, O-Boy-With-Arms-Like-Pieces-of-

  String…’ sang Ziggerastica, ‘and may the winds that

  blow you be strong…’

  And with that, he was gone.

  ‘Why did you let him go?’ shrieked Fishlegs. ‘I

  hate to mention this but we’re not free yet, we’re still

  stuck in an arena surrounded by Sharkworms!’

  ‘The Sharkworms seem more interested in the

  audience,’ said Hiccup. ‘That’s why I got

  Ziggerastica’s armies to eat through the metal netting

  and to spend all night chomping through the dam. It

  was all part of my plan, you see – now the dam has

  cracked, we can simply sail out…’

  Hiccup gestured to the open doors of the

  auditorium. The water was pouring out of them in a

  great river.

  ‘Brilliant,’ said Camicazi. ‘I’ve got to admit,

  that’s brilliant…for a boy, of course.’

  Hiccup was already at the tiller and he pointed

  the ship towards the open doors of the stadium.

  The Valhalla Express nosed its way towards the

  entrance.

  ‘We’re going to make it!’ yelled Fishlegs. ‘We’re

  nearly there!’

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  The Valhalla Express was halfway through the door…

  … but Alvin had spotted them trying to escape

  and given the order to send the portcullis rattling

  down. It cut The Valhalla Express in two. Fishlegs and

  Camicazi and Hiccup were thrown into the water on

  the wrong side of the bars. The sea was breath-

  quenchingly cold.

  ‘AAAARGH!’ shrieked Fishlegs, almost rearing

  out of the water, he was so terrified of the Sharkworms.

  ‘Climb the portcullis,’ ordered Hiccup.

  The three young Vikings swam to the portcullis

  and climbed it, Hiccup towing Fishlegs, and with

  Toothless flapping behind them. Two metres or so up,

  they clung, dripping and terrified, like four little

  spiders.

  Through the slippery bars they had a tantalising

  view of the freedom of the open ocean, hopelessly out

  of reach. All around them were the shrieks of the

  crowd, and clouds and clouds of escaping dragons.

  (The nanodragons had eaten the locks of those giant

  cages too.)

  The Romans were running to their ships and

  setting sail back to Rome as fast as they could.

  The Sharkworms were taking over the island,

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  climbing over the battlements and destroying the

  soldiers’ tents. One or two of them had already made

  their way to the Fat Consul’s swimming pool and were

  wallowing in the water.

  ‘So what do we do now, then?’ shouted

  Camicazi, her teeth chattering.

  ‘I give up!’ Hiccup shouted back, a sudden gust

  of wind nearly blowing him off the portcullis. His

  fingers were so frozen he wasn’t sure how much

  longer he could hold on.

  ‘This isn’t part of my plan. What more do you

  want of me? It’s all up to you now. You’re the Master

  Escaper, aren’t you? You’re Ze Great Camicazi, no

  prison can hold you…’

  ‘Ze Great Camicazi will get us out of here,’

  shouted Camicazi, ‘if you admit that girls are way, way

  better than boys and always have been…’

  ‘Dream on, sunshine,’ grinned Hiccup.

  ‘OK!’ shouted Camicazi. ‘Ze Great CAMICAZI

  will get us out of here anyway… You can’t keep a Bog-

  Burglar under lock and key. Are you sure you want to

  follow me?’

  ‘Lead on!’ said Hiccup, with a slightly mad

 
laugh. ‘We can’t hang around here for ever.’

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  Camicazi craned her neck upwards. Some way

  above them, tethered to the top of the amphitheatre

  entrance, was one of those enormous Roman

  observation balloons.

  ‘If we can’t sail our way out of here,’ she yelled,

  ‘I vote we fly!’ and she pointed to the balloon.

  ‘Ohhhh brother…’ moaned Fishlegs miserably as

  he climbed slowly after the others, ‘if Woden had

  meant us to fly he’d have given us wings… don’t look

  down, Fishlegs – don’t look down.’

  Camicazi climbed expertly upwards, and she got

  to the balloon first, closely followed by Hiccup. They

  scrambled into the basket.

  It was empty except for a rather depressed-

  looking Gronckle, trapped in a cage right underneath

  the open mouth of the balloon. Every now and then

  he shot out a burst of flame that heated the air, and

  this would send the balloon bouncing upward for a

  moment before it was stopped by the rope that

  moored it.

  ‘Hello, Brother-of-the-Snake,’ panted Hiccup.

  He looked carefully around the basket for any hidden

  soldiers. ‘Are you on your own here?’

  ‘The soldiers are all watching the Saturn’s day

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  Saturday celebrations,’ said the Gronckle. ‘Actually,

  it’s nice to have some peace and quiet for a change.’

  ‘Well, I’m so sorry to disturb you,’ said Hiccup,

  ‘but we’re taking over this balloon – it’s a military

  emergency…’

  ‘No problem,’ said the sad Gronckle. ‘It would be

  my pleasure. Nobody’s bothered to ask me nicely before

  – they usually just hit me.’

  ‘Oh dear,’ said Hiccup sympathetically. He hated

  to see his fellow creatures trapped or ill-treated. ‘Of

  course we’ll let you go as soon as we get home, but at

  the moment we’re in a bit of a hurry.’

  ‘It’s not that I don’t like the job,’ the Gronckle

  assured him. ‘It’s nice up here – peaceful, you know.

  When would you like to leave?’

  ‘Very soon,’ said Hiccup. ‘We’re just waiting for

  a friend.’ He peered back over the edge of the basket.

 

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