It was indeed.
It is always a mistake to underestimate the little
people of the world, for it is often they who tip the
balance.
‘I REVOLT against his Revolution!’ declared Ziggerastica
proudly. ‘These ENORMOUS dragons think they are so important… But if
there is a Revolution to be declared, that Revolution
should be declared by the Centre of the Universe, and the Centre of the
Universe is ME!
‘I trust he will have learnt his lesson,’ snapped Ziggerastica
with a self-satisfied sniff, before declaring
condescendingly, ‘Yes I know, I’m MARVELLOUS…’ as Hiccup
tried to thank him. And he disappeared with his
humming hordes just as mysteriously as he
had come, like a wasp swarm lighting
for a moment on a tree, buzzing
there for a second, and vanishing.
Leaving only the words:
‘It is the smaller things of the world who
decide the Fate of the Archipelago once again!’
… buzzing in the air.
The watching crowd were so over-
excited that they noticed none of this.
Alvin staggered from the dais, and
was crying on his mother’s shoulder like
he was a little boy again. ‘He cheated,
Mother, didn’t you see? He used little
dragon accomplices…’
‘I know darling, I know,’ hissed his mother
through gritted teeth. ‘But you should have cheated
BETTER…’
The Druid Guardian held up his hand.
‘SILENCE! HE IS NOT THE KING YET!
THE KING NEEDS TO TAKE HIS VOWS FIRST,
BEFORE HE CAN BE THE KING!’
Trying to look like a King despite the ridiculously
swollen right half of his body, Hiccup limped up on to
the broken dais, his tattered fire-suit flapping in the
wind.
One by one, the Druid Guardian handed Hiccup
the ten Lost Things of Grimbeard the Ghastly.
‘Hold up your hand, Hiccup,’ he said.
‘Will you swear to be the King forever? Will you
swear to lay down your life for your people? Will you
swear to rule absolutely, but with fairness, and justice,
and mindful of the independence of your subjects?’
Hiccup looked out over the massed and silent
crowds. He looked at the wild stormy sky above, the
Archipelago in flames, and then far, far in the distance,
the thousands upon thousands of dragons waiting for
the Final Battle in Wrecker’s Bay.
For the first time he realised, deep in his bones,
what being a King would mean.
236
Once, back where these memoirs started, Hiccup
had been afraid that he might be Chief of the Hooligan
Tribe one day. How far he had come, for how much
greater was this responsibility. All of these tough, huge
adults looking at him with expectant eyes, wanting him
to make the right decisions. He would be responsible
for their lives in the upcoming battle.
After what had happened to Snotlout, Hiccup
knew what this meant now, that real people, people
who were close to him, might die in true life.
This is what War means.
And it would all be Hiccup’s fault if anything
went wrong.
Around his neck hung the Black Star of Courage
that Snotlout had given him. Well, Hiccup needed
courage now, and he held on to that Star for dear life.
He swallowed hard.
‘Peoples of the Archipelago,’ said Hiccup
Horrendous Haddock the Third. ‘Two days ago my cousin
Snotlout laid down his life for me.’
Baggybum the Beerbelly gave a choking cry as he
understood what had happened to his son.
‘Snotlout put on my clothes,’ said Hiccup steadily.
‘He wore my helmet and rode my riding-dragon to face
the Witch and Alvin’s people, he took the arrow that
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was meant for me, he died the death that should have
been my death. It was the bravest thing I have ever
seen and…
‘… he is the greatest Hero that I have ever
known.’
The crowd murmured in shock.
‘Impossible!’ hissed the Witch. ‘Snotlout was
a coward… treacherous worm. He hated you! He
betrayed you to us!’
‘He put his honour before his pride, which is one
of the most Heroic things that any of us can ever do,’
said Hiccup. ‘Snotlout proved himself to be one of our
greatest Heroes. He died with the Dragonmark on his
forehead. I drew it there myself.’
Baggybum the Beerbelly heaved with sobs,
destroyed with grief but proud that Snotlout had
proved himself a Hero at the last. He had regained his
son, and lost his son, all in the course of a minute.
‘Brave boy!’ shouted Gobber the Belch, wiping
his eyes, overcome with emotion. ‘The brave, brave
boy! I knew he had it in him! SNOTLOUT HAS
SHOWN US ALL THE WAY!’
‘SNOTLOUT THE HERO!’ cried a Visithug,
and the crowds cheered Snotlout to the ruined rafters.
‘SNOTLOUT THE HERO! SNOTLOUT THE HERO!
238
SNOTLOUT THE HERO!’
‘Why did Snotlout do this for me?’ asked Hiccup.
‘He did it because he believed that I could be the King.
He said, and I will never forget this: “You aren’t the
King that we wanted, but maybe you are the King we
need.” And then he gave me his sword to be forever at
my service.
‘So you see why I have to do this, why I have to
be the King.
‘I take this Crown in honour of Snotlout.
‘In honour of Snotlout, because he believed
in me, and because his sacrifice must not be in vain.
When I am King, he will live on in me. I will carry him
with me every step I take, every decision I make.
‘And before I take these vows, I will say to you all
what I said to Snotlout.
‘I wish I could offer you a King who is greater
than I am. I can’t turn into somebody else. I can only
be me. But I have discovered that I am stronger than
I thought I was. And I think that I can do this, I think
I can be King. And If Snotlout believed I can, then
maybe I believe it too.’
Hiccup turned to the Druid Guardian.
He held up his hand.
He took the vow.
239
‘I promise to be the King forever. I promise
to lay down my life for my people. I promise to rule
absolutely, but with fairness, and justice, and mindful
of the independence of my subjects.
‘And I promise you this, peoples of the
Archipelago.’ Hiccup’s voice shook. ‘I will build a new
and fairer Wilderwest, where dragons and humans can
live together, where slavery is no more, a land fit for
Heroes… I promise that I shall do this, or die in the
attempt!’
‘HOORAH!’ roared the Vikings in a trumpet of
applause, for they had forgotten who they were for a
second, and now they remembered. They were Heroes.
<
br /> Heroes of the Dragonmark.
The Druid Guardian put the Crown on Hiccup’s
head.
‘By the powers of the Guardians, both
dragon and human, by the will of Destiny and
Thor, and Grimbeard the Ghastly, and the Peoples
of the Archipelago, I crown you KING OF THE
WILDERWEST.’
The Crown was quite a bit too large, so the
Guardian sort of rested it lopsidedly on Hiccup’s ears.
Thor, it was heavy. And then the Druid Guardian
motioned for him to sit upon the Throne.
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Hiccup refused.
‘I’m so sorry,’ he said. ‘I’m happy to become King,
but I will not sit on that Throne. It is clearly cursed.’
Hiccup had a point. There had always been
something malevolent about that Throne. Maybe it
was the brown stain of Hiccup the Second’s blood, still
faintly visible on the seat. Who knows? But it seemed a
good moment to start a new tradition.
‘I shall sit here on this large Stone instead,’ said
Hiccup.
‘Excellent!’ said the Druid Guardian. ‘You’re
going to make a wonderful King.’
Hiccup sat down on the large Stone.
‘Hear ye! Hear ye!’ cried the Druid Guardian,
hanging the Dragon Jewel around Hiccup’s neck. ‘As I
tell the King the secret of the Dragon Jewel!’
The crowd leaned in to listen.
‘The secret of the Dragon Jewel is this,’ said the
Druid Guardian. ‘The Jewel contains two dragons
caught fighting in the amber. One of those dragons
is suffering from a sickness that is so dangerous to
dragons that it would wipe out the entire dragon
population, were it ever to escape.’
The crowd murmured sadly.
‘So the way to use the Jewel against the dragons
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is to break it,’ continued the Druid Guardian solemnly,
‘and set the sickness free, to do its dreadful work.’
Grimly, Hiccup looked at the Dragon Jewel. This
was a dark secret indeed. He couldn’t see any dragons
caught within the amber, but perhaps they were
nanodragons too small to see…
The Druid Guardian raised his arms to the crowd.
‘I GIVE YOU THE FIRST KING OF THE
WILDERWEST IN ONE HUNDRED YEARS…
KING HICCUP THE THIRD!’*
‘KING HICCUP THE THIRD!’
‘HICCUP THE KING!’
‘HICCUP, HICCUP, HICCUP THE KING!!!’
‘THE KING! THE KING! THE KING!’
‘HICC-UP! HICC-UP! HICC-UP!’
‘HICCUP THE KING! HICCUP THE KING!
HICCUP THE KING!’
The joyous cries of the crowds echoed even out
across Wrecker’s Bay, and came to the ears of the
listening Dragon Furious.
How had the boy done it?
Well, if the Fates would make him King, then…
The Dragon was ready for him.
Stoick the Vast was the first to approach the
Stone. Creaking, for in middle age Stoick’s magnificent
*Strictly speaking, Hiccup was not the third King Hiccup but the
second, because Hiccup the Second was never a King. However, in the
excitement of the moment, the Druid Guardian got it wrong.
belly had overspilled his breeches a little and his knees
were perhaps not quite what they were, he knelt before
his son.
‘Father, what are you doing?’ said Hiccup, and
embarrassed and distressed, he tried to pull his father
to his feet, and when that didn’t work (Stoick was
rather heavily built) Hiccup knelt down beside his
father, until the Druid Guardian gave him a stern look,
and said gently:
‘You are the King now, Hiccup.’
Slowly Hiccup sat back on the Stone.
‘My sword is at your service, King,’ said
Stoick the Vast, bowing his head as he knelt to his
son, following the ancient code of the Kings of the
Wilderwest.
‘Oh… oh dear…’ stuttered
Hiccup, thoroughly rattled, but
remembering in the nick of
time to bow formally back,
and give the traditional
response.
‘I am honoured
to accept it.’
Valhallarama
of the White
Arms, that great Hero, knelt beside her husband. She,
too, bowed her head.
‘My sword is at your service, King.’
‘Er… thank you, Mother,’ stammered Hiccup. ‘I
mean, I am honoured to accept it.’
All around the ruined Castle of Grimbeard
the Ghastly, these enormous hairy Vikings fell to
their knees. These stern, grizzled, tattooed Warriors,
Mogadon the Meathead, Dangerous the Tenth, Boily
of Bashem, Barbara the Barbarian, Very-Vicious the
Visithug, the Vicious Twins, Bertha of the Bog-Burglars,
all fell on their knees before Hiccup, and bowed their
heads before him.
Hiccup’s eyes filled with tears as he saw it. It
was almost unbelievable. He looked out on a sea of
kneeling people, great Warriors all, battle scarred, so
much older, larger than he was, all bowing down before
him.
All bowing down before him, a scraggly spider-
web runt of a boy, Hiccup, who once nobody thought
would be Chief of the Hooligan Tribe, let alone a King!
With one great bellowing voice, they cried out:
‘Our swords are at your service, King!’
And Hiccup replied, trying to stop his voice from
trembling, trying to sound as Kingly as possible, ‘I am
honoured to accept it.’
Toothless sat up proudly on Hiccup’s shoulder.
Hunting-dragon to a King! He always knew he was
an important dragon. He always knew he had royal
connections. Stormfly would find him irresistible
now…
‘THREE CHEERS FOR KING HICCUP THE
THIRD!’ bellowed Gobber the Belch.
The Vikings leaped to their feet, or were helped
up if they were on the fatter side, and threw their
helmets in the air, and shouted.
‘HURRAH! HURRAH! HURRAH!’
So that was how Hiccup Horrendous Haddock
the Third became the thirteenth King of the
Wilderwest. And only those who have been following
Hiccup’s memoirs up until now will know how very,
very unlikely it is that it would end this way. That this
gangly, thoughtful, imaginative, string-bean of a boy
would end up the Heir to Grimbeard the Ghastly.
Who would ever have thought it?
It has taken us twelve long Quests, and twelve
long books to get to this point.
But there it is.
248
That is what happened, against all odds and
unlikely as it may seem.
I told you this was the story of becoming a Hero
the Hard Way.
But this, of course, is not the end of the story.
The crowning of the King might make a good
ending, but Hiccup had been crowned King in difficult
circumstances, right in the middle of a dragon and
human War, exactly at noon on the Doomsday of Yule.
So t
his is not the end of this particular story,
indeed, it some ways, it is more like a beginning, and if
you thought the first half of the Doomsday of Yule was
hard, wait until you get to the second half.
However, it seems like a good moment for a
pause, so that we can enjoy the unlikeliness of this
triumph, and because we have spent quite a long time
getting here.
END OF THE FIRST PART OF
THE DOOMSDAY OF YULE
249
13. A VERY SHORT CHAPTER
THAT BEGINS WELL… AND
ENDS BADLY
The reign of King Hiccup the Third began full of hope.
The coronation of a new King is always an
exciting moment, and the Vikings had come from such
a position of despair that there was quite a festive
atmosphere in that ruined Castle, despite the waiting
dragon army.
King Hiccup sat on his Stone, looking out on
his new kingdom, feeling rather grateful for the rest,
and being able to put his feet up for a moment after a
difficult morning. He was trying to put off the thought
of meeting the Dragon Furious so he could enjoy this
moment, and he was thanking Fishlegs and Camicazi
for trying to rescue him earlier in the little strait of
water between Hero’s End and Tomorrow.
‘I don’t know how to explain it, I just didn’t have
a clue who you were…’
‘Humph,’ huffed Camicazi. ‘Well I call it
very ungrateful, and Stormfly will never forgive
you because you hit her bang smack on the bottom
and Mood-dragons have long memories. But your
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THROWING has improved, actually it was really quite
good (for a boy, of course)…’
Stoick and Valhallarama, as the mother and the
father of the King, were receiving the congratulations
of all the other Vikings.
‘Oh yes,’ boasted Stoick, ‘we always knew
Hiccup was something special… different of course,
but in a good way… Some people say that he takes after
his father, but I don’t know about that…’
Toothless was saying carelessly to Stormfly, ‘Oh
yes, T-t-toothless not surprised my Master turned
out to be King because everybody says Toothless
How to Train Your Dragon: How to Fight a Dragon's Fury Page 13