Snotlout had already reached in and drawn out a truly magnificent sword, the scabbard richly decorated with dragons, skulls and the waves of an angry sea.
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THAT was a sword fit for a Pirate King. It made the soft hiss of a serpent as Snotlout gently drew it out of the scabbard, and as the sunlight glinted on the still-bright, cruel blade, you could see how bitingly sharp it was, even after all these years underground.
On the handle was a furious portrait of Thor the Thunderer with a tangled seaweedy beard, and across the blade was a zigzag lightning pattern in a lighter silver.
"The Stormblade ...," breathed Baggybum the Beerbelly.
It was, indeed, the Stormblade, Grimbeard the Ghastly's famous sword, with which he had ruled over the entire Inner Isles in such a ruthless fashion.
As Snotlout waved it gently to and fro, it seemed to give off a fierce, hungry light of its own.
Gently, Stoick reached over and took it from his nephew.
"MINE, I think you'll find," said Stoick calmly. "The Stormblade belongs to the CHIEF of the Hairy Hooligans, and to him ALONE."
There was a crafty, greedy look in his eye as he threw aside his own sword and took hold of the Stormblade.
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Toothless wrinkled his snout and sniffed.
"What's that s-s-s-s-smell?"
"What smell?" asked Hiccup.
"THAT smell," replied Newtsbreath, making a face.
Hiccup looked across at Fireworm, the greatest sniffer of them all. The normally flame-red dragon was drooping on Snotlout's shoulder, an extraordinary shade of pale green.
"Suffering scallops!" shouted Hiccup.
[Image: A dragon.]
"The Skullions!!! SHUT THE BOX!" and he launched himself at the box lid, trying to shut it.
"The boy's gone crazy," said Baggybum the Beerbelly, easily preventing Hiccup from shutting it by holding it open with one massive forefinger.
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"Crazy with jealousy," sneered Snotlout.
"SHUT THE BOX! SHUT THE BOX! SHUT THE BOX!" yelled Hiccup, struggling in Baggybum's arms.
"Now, now, my boy," said Stoick, irritated, but trying to soothe his son, "you can find some treasure NEXT time, I'm sure. We're quite safe, the Skullions can't see us or hear us...."
"But they can SMELL us!" shouted Hiccup. "GRIMBEARD HAS BOOBY-TRAPPED THE BOX WITH A SMELL THAT WILL WAKE THE SKULLIONS!!!"
"What do you mean, smell us?" asked Stoick.
[Image: A man.]
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He gave an experimental sniff. Now the stench was so strong even the humans were noticing it. Fireworm had already thrown up in the heather. All the Hooligans started sniffing, and there it was, an unmistakable reek of rotting fish and long-dead walrus ... with perhaps a hint of month-old crabmeat.
"POOH," murmured the Hooligans, their attention wandering from the treasure.
"SHUT ... THE ... BOX!" yelled Hiccup, purple in the face from fury at their stupidity. Light dawned on Stoick the Vast's stupid countenance.
"Ahhhhh ... I see what you mean.... SHUT THE BOX. Quickly, quickly!" At last he realized the urgency of the situation and shut the box, sitting on it for good measure.
But it made no difference.
The smell was getting stronger by the minute, an unimaginably horrid stench.
If the Skullions caught just one WHIFF of that horrible smell, it wouldn't take long for them to wake up and ... the thought was too awful to contemplate.
And then Hiccup realized that the awful scritch-scratch of the sleep-sharpening had stopped ... and that meant... that meant...
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"R-R-R-U-U-U-U-U-U-U-U-U-N!" shouted Hiccup.
[Image: A man.]
At exactly the same moment Fireworm shrieked, "D-E-S-E-R-R-R-R-R-R-R-R-R-R-T!"
"Let's get out of here," said Stoick the Vast. He and Gobber the Belch carried the box together. The Hooligans didn't need the order. They were already running as fast as they could towards the beach where the boats were....
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"Leave the box here, Father," panted Hiccup as he jogged along beside his father. "They'll go for the box, not us."
"NO WAY," said Stoick, his eyes still shining with that glow Hiccup hadn't seen before. "Think of Alvin's disappointment. Besides, this is my chance for GREATNESS," he huffed, knocking over a big tower of limpets as he blundered along.
"You are great ALREADY, Father," urged Hiccup, "you don't need this treasure. ..."
But Stoick wouldn't leave it behind.
As they passed the burrows Hiccup could begin to hear horrible snuffling noises coming from inside.
He ran a bit faster.
His heart pounding in terror, he bounded through the heather and crashed through the ferns, at one point falling flat on his face.
The smell was now so strong that it was becoming visible, drifting out of the dents and cracks Gobber had made in the chest in a thick greeny-yellow vapor.
The cliffs of the beach were in sight. They had passed the last mound of Skullions. Maybe they would make it after all.
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And then Hiccup heard a noise that made his stomach turn double-somersaults in terror. The noise of animals like big dogs or lions padding behind him, bounding through the heather.
"R-r-r-r-r-r-r-run!" shrieked Toothless, who was flying three or four feet above Hiccup's head.
Hiccup, Fishlegs, Stoick and Gobber were trailing behind the others, Hiccup and Fishlegs because they were not fast runners, Stoick and Gobber because they were hampered by the box they were carrying.
"So they'll get us first," thought Hiccup.
The Skullions were now so close behind them that they could hear the horrible snotty snuffling noises they were making in their noses and the clicking of their teeth.
Hiccup reached the brow of the dunes and launched himself off it in a huge jump onto the sand below. He landed okay but tripped over his too-large Stretchapoint sword. He rolled over onto his back to look up at the ghastly sight of a gigantic slobbering Skullion, claws outstretched, leaping right on top of him. Its great head was just inches above Hiccup's face.
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It was the most dreadful thing Hiccup had ever seen, and it would give him nightmares until he was an old, old man. It was a face that wasn't a face, no eyes and ears, just that vast nose and slobbering mouth, punctuated by sparkling silver teeth Black saliva dripped down onto Hiccup's face in a disgusting dribble. The Skullion was holding him down with one clawed paw, while he sniffed down the rest of his body, searching for the tendon in his ankles, the sunlight glinting on that one ludicrously overgrown talon....
Hiccup fumbled for his sword, but the Stretchapoint had fallen out of reach.
Hiccup opened his mouth to shout for help, but no noise came out.
"Help me," he mouthed soundlessly. "HELP ME."
Somebody appeared from nowhere, grabbed the Skullion around the throat and killed it with one blow from his sword.
It was Stoick the Vast.
The strange grip the treasure had on Stoick loosened as soon as he saw his son's life was in danger,
He left Baggybum the Beerbelly to carry the
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chest to the ship. He was holding the Stormblade in his right hand and an axe in his left.
"MOVE!!!" yelled Stoick the Vast.
Hiccup moved. He stumbled across the sand.
He could hear more of the creatures bounding after him.
"I'm not... going ... to ... make it... to the boats in time," he thought to himself.
There was a hollow tree trunk sunk into the sand in front of him.
"Climb under the t-t-tree! Climb under the tree!" screeched Toothless.
Hiccup scrambled under it in the nick of time. He could hear a Skullion's jaws clanging together just as he pulled his ankle through the dip in the sand below the tree.
The Skullion was too large to follow him but it pushed its revolting quivering nose through the gap and
it started to gnaw at the wood around the hole.
Hiccup grabbed a bone lying on the ground and shoved it as hard as he could up one gigantic nostril.
The Skullion fell back with a howl of anguish.
There was a sickening crash from above as a Skullion landed on top of the tree ... and then
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another ... and another.... Hiccup could hear horrible scratchings as they worried away with their teeth, trying to break through the wood.
Way above that, Toothless was screaming continuously, "H-h-help! Help! H-H-H-H-HELP!"
Hiccup swiped at another nose appearing at the hole....
All around him at the edges of the tree trunk he could hear the scrabbling sound of creatures digging through the sand.
It was only a question of time before one of them broke through....
Through a crack at eye level Hiccup could see his father fighting his way towards him up the beach. His dragon hadn't deserted him. Noble Newtsbreath was recklessly tearing into the back of a Skullion three times larger than himself that was about to leap at Stoick.
C-R-U-N-C-C-C-C-C-C-C-C-CH
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A Skullion talon pierced the tree trunk, so close to Hiccup that it grazed his chest as it went through.
The head and shoulders of the Skullion appeared in the gaping hole the talon had made. It opened its jaws so wide Hiccup could see right down its black throat.
Hiccup screamed and fell backwards.
Just as the creature lunged forwards to kill him, Hiccup was grabbed around the ankle by one of Stoick's hairy hands, and pulled back through the hole he had climbed in.
Stoick dragged him out, and lifted him up.
"Put your arms up!" bellowed Stoick.
Newtsbreath, hovering overhead, took hold of Hiccup's arms with his talons and carried him up into the air. Toothless grabbed one leg, struggling to help.
Newtsbreath spread out his great wings to their fullest extent.
The Skullions chased after them as they flew, leaping up to bite at Hiccup like dogs after a tidbit. Newtsbreath groaned with the strain of trying to get enough height to keep Hiccup out of range of their mapping jaws.
Every now and then, the effort became too much
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for him, and to Hiccup's terror, he plunged suddenly downwards towards the beach. There was one very close call when Hiccup swung his body out of the way just in time as one of the monsters made a tremendous leap and nearly took his legs off at the knee.
By the time they got to the sea, Newtsbreath's strength had gone, and Hiccup's ankles were dragging in the water.
But they were safe.
Skullions cannot swim, and they loathe the water.
A few more beats of Newtsbreath's wings, and he dropped Hiccup sprawling the deck of the Lucky Thirteen. He then whirled round wearily, and flapped back to try and help his Master.
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Stoick was doing surprisingly well without his help, considering he was fighting a lone battle against increasing numbers of Skullions. Normally, this would have resulted in one dead Chief in about ten seconds flat. You have to remember that Stoick was forty and very, very fat.
But with the Stormblade in his hand, Stoick seemed to have been transformed.
He was awesome.
Yelling the spine-chilling Hooligan Yell, eyes crazy with bloodlust, he performed the Fighting-Against-Superior-Numbers Maneuver with spectacular success.
This is a highly complicated Pirate Fighting Skill that only the most coordinated and brilliant fighters can carry out.
The pirate takes the Double-Headed Supa-Axe in his left hand and whirls it around his head in a continuous circle that the enemies are unable to penetrate without getting their heads chopped off. At the same time, with the right hand the pirate lunges out of the defensive circle with his sword to attack the enemy.
As you can imagine if you have ever tried to rub your stomach with one hand while patting your
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head with the other, this Attacking-While-Defending Skill can only be carried out by the most brilliant and coordinated of Vikings.
Skullion after Skullion fell down dead around Stoick as he walked slowly forwards. But a continuous shining wave of the Creatures had poured onto the beach and were cutting off his route to the boats. It seemed impossible that he could make it through the sheer mass of them all, and Newtsbreath, though flying as hard as he could, was still too far away to be any help.
And then, to the complete astonishment of the watching Hooligans, their corpulent, creaky old Leader leapt onto the BACK of the nearest Skullion. The creature madly twisted and bucked, trying to throw him off, but Stoick held on grimly, gripping with his powerful thighs alone, so that he could reach down to right and left, dispatching Skullions with sword and axe.
He cut his way through the mob, riding the maddened beast right into the sea, for all the world as if he were astride an ancient old broken-in Dragon Steed. When the Creature finally bucked him off in the shallows, he turned the fall into a belly flop
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forwards, checked for a moment to stow away the sword and the axe, and swam like fury for the boat.
The whole wide bay, and the immediate horizon, was now filled with thousands and thousands of these beasts from hell. It was like a vision out of your worst nightmare.
But the Skullions stopped at the water's edge, and stayed there howling and shrieking furiously. So angry were they that they started turning on the weaker members of their pack, and a few of the creatures were ripped to pieces in front of Hiccup's eyes.
The Hooligans cheered and cheered and cheered.
Stoick was very pleased with himself.
He acknowledged the frantic applause, wiped the blood off the Stormblade onto his shirt, and kissed the clean blade.
And then he threw back his hairy head and ROARED like an animal, and so wild did he look with the sword in his hand and the blood on his shirt that Hiccup barely recognized his own father.
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13. THE TREASURE
The graze on Hiccup's chest was actually deeper than he had realized in the terror of the moment. It would leave a scar that would stay with him for the rest of his life as a reminder of a morning spent on the Isle of the Skullions.
And his right arm was dislocated from the strain of hanging from the talons of Newtsbreath. Gobber put it back in its socket (a very painful process, as Gobber was not the most tender of nurses) and tore a strip off his shirt to make Hiccup a sling for it.
The Hooligans gave themselves a couple of minutes to pat each other on the back and celebrate, before grabbing the oars again. They were eager to leave the spooky Isle of the Skullions far, far behind them. It wasn't until they were within sight of the friendly cliffs of Berk that they felt safe enough to ship their oars, and let the Lucky Thirteen drift for a while in calm but misty seas while they investigated their prize.
When Stoick lifted the lid of the box again, the smell had nearly gone. But underneath the
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treasure there was a scattering of greenish-yellow crystals which appeared to be smoking slightly, and they still gave off that rotten-egg stench. These were J what Grimbeard had used to booby-trap the box -- as soon as they came into contact with the air they let off their smell, which then alerted the Skullions.
A very effective and deadly defense of his treasure.
And WHAT a treasure it was ... Alvin could not I speak for at least three minutes. He just stood there, eyes popping, picking up object after object and stroking it, letting his hands run lovingly through the coins.
"Of course, ten percent of this treasure shall ¡be yours, Alvin," boomed Stoick the Vast, sticking his belly out in pride at his own generosity.
"You are tooooo kind, dearest Stoick," murmured Alvin, when he could say anything at all.
"Hang on an oyster-catching minute," interrupted Baggybum the Beerbelly. "Firstly, I want it a
cknowledged that SNOTLOUT found this treasure."
"Acknowledged," said Stoick the Vast reluctantly.
Hiccup knew he should be thankful to be alive, but he was unspeakably miserable. He knew what all this was going to mean. Hiccup, although the
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son of the Chief, was not the True Heir to the Hairy Hooligans. The True Heir was Snotlout, who had always been bigger, faster and more brilliant than Hiccup at everything.
"Secondly," continued Baggybum, "as the FINDER OF THE TREASURE, technically it belongs to MY SON Snotlout, and I don't know whether Snotlout feels like giving away any of it to some stranger. ..."
"He definitely doesn't," grinned Snotlout.
Stoick the Vast banged shut the treasure chest. He lifted Baggybum the Beerbelly clear off the ground by the front of his shirt, which was quite some feat considering Baggybum the Beerbelly was about the size of a killer whale who hadn't had much exercise recently.
"I AM THE CHIEF OF THIS TRIBE!" roared Stoick the Vast. "I LAUNCHED THIS EXPEDITION TO FIND THE TREASURE OF GRIMBEARD THE GHASTLY AND THIS TREASURE BELONGS TO ME AND ME ALONE!"
Baggybum the Beerbelly gave Stoick a quick jab in the kidney, which made Stoick drop him, sharpish. He yelled right back in Stoick's face:
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"WELL, MAYBE YOU'VE BEEN CHIEF OF THIS TRIBE A LITTLE TOO LONG, BIG BROTHER! MAYBE THIS IS A SIGN FROM THE GODS THAT IT'S TIME YOU RETIRED, WHAT DID THAT PROPHECY SAY ABOUT THE HEIR FINDING THE TREASURE? IF MY SON IS THE HEIR, MAYBE THAT JUST MAKES ME THE CHIEF OF THE TRIBE INSTEAD OF YOU!!!"
[Image: Men.]
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"NO!" yelled Stoick, stamping his foot.
How to Be a Pirate Page 6