How To Train Your Dragon: How to Betray a Dragon's Hero

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How To Train Your Dragon: How to Betray a Dragon's Hero Page 14

by Cressida Cowell


  ‘Bedtime, now, Hogfly,’ said Hiccup.

  ‘Oooo bedtime! Is it my bedtime?’

  ‘Yes we’re going to bed now, Hogfly…’

  Hiccup took off his backpack, and the Hogfly

  hopped in, wedging his fat little bottom inside and

  woofing enthusiastically.

  ‘Night, night, Hogfly…’ whispered Hiccup. ‘And

  well done! You were very useful there…’

  Hogflys love to be helpful. This Hogfly

  was so pleased to be praised, he blew

  himself up into a balloon again,

  and POP! He burst with pride,

  even though he had already

  forgotten what Hiccup was

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  thanking him for.

  ‘Sleep tight!’ yawned the Hogfly. ‘Anchors

  aweigh! Happy holidays! Good night, sweet ladies,

  good night…’

  The instant Hiccup put the lid on the backpack,

  deep, snuffling, catarrh-filled snores rumbled from

  within.

  Quiet as shadows, Hiccup and

  Windwalker and Wodensfang flew

  towards the moving light. They

  landed on a boat nearby, and

  leapt like cats from deck to deck,

  keeping well in the shadows.

  Suddenly there was a sound

  of running footsteps. Hiccup and

  the two dragons dived behind

  a boathouse to hide. The metal

  boots of Very Vicious ran past them,

  hastening back towards the pitched battle

  taking place around and above the Great Hall, which

  was now burning as merrily as a gigantic bonfire…

  Heart thumping, Hiccup waited until Very

  Vicious had disappeared.

  A ladder rested against one side of the final boat.

  Quiet as a ghost, Hiccup climbed that ladder, and

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  peered over the edge.

  There were two Alvinsmen guards on deck,

  talking in whispers to each other. They were so

  engrossed in their conversation that they did not see

  Hiccup and the two dragons slip over the side and hide

  behind the tent-house in the middle of the deck.

  The first guard was sucking his finger.

  ‘That wretched little dragon BIT me!’ he

  grumbled. He looked thoroughly harassed. ‘For a

  dragon with no teeth, it HURT! If I’d known this job

  included dragon-sitting I’d never have volunteered…

  That horrible little creature blew a rude raspberry right

  in my face!’

  They could only have been talking about

  Toothless.

  ‘Oh, well done, Toothless,’ breathed Wodensfang,

  even though he was

  normally so keen

  on teaching the little

  dragon some manners.

  Heart lifting,

  Hiccup recognised

  the voice of Toothless

  singing to himself,

  down in the depths of

  the ship somewhere.

  Toothless, thought Hiccup. Thank goodness you’re

  all right.

  ‘One hundred and thirty-three thousand four

  hundred and eighty-nine b-b-bottles hanging on

  a wall…’ sang the little dragon sadly, for Toothless

  was feeling very sorry for himself. ‘One hundred and

  thirty-three thousand four hundred and eighty-nine

  bottles hanging on a wall… and if ONE green

  bottle should accidentally f-f-fall… there’ll be one

  hundred and thirty-three thousand four hundred and

  eighty-eight bottles hanging on a wall…’

  Toothless had recently learnt to count, and

  singing this particular song was his way of keeping his

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  spirits up until Hiccup rescued him. Toothless was

  convinced, of course, that Hiccup was going to rescue

  him.

  The second Alvinsman had his hands over his

  ears.

  ‘SHURRUP you revolting little tone-deaf frog!

  BE QUIET!’

  For one moment Toothless stopped. And then

  he began again, in that same, maddening lugubrious

  drone:

  ‘One hundred and thirty-three thousand four

  hundred and eighty-eight bottles h-h-hanging on a

  wall… one hundred and thirty-three thousand, four

  hundred and eighty-eight bottles h-h-hanging on a

  wall…’

  ‘Go down and get him to stop!’ said the second

  Alvinsman.

  ‘Why me?’ begged the first Alvinsman. ‘He’s

  already bitten me, done the rude raspberry, eaten half

  my lunch and the end of my favourite scabbard, and

  we’ve only had him for five minutes! Why don’t you go

  down and get him to stop?’

  ‘OK, OK… you have to be firm with these little

  pests, you’re too soft,’ grumbled the second Alvinsman,

  and he climbed down a hatch in the middle of the

  deck. ‘It’s all in your tone of voice. Watch me. Now

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  look here, you horrible little reptile, pipe down or—

  OW! He bit me too!’

  ‘Don’t for Thor’s sake spank him!’ begged the

  first Alvinsman. ‘The witch said he was the Last Lost

  Thing, and it was very important that he was kept in

  peak physical condition…’

  ‘That’s r-r-right, you ignorant Alvinsmen!

  Toothless is the Last Lost Thing, and he’s the

  B-B-BEST ONE!’ Toothless shouted up from

  below. ‘One hundred and thirty three thousand, four

  hundred and eighty-SEVEN bottles… h-h-hanging on

  a wall…’

  ‘I’m very tempted to lose him again right now,’

  said the second Alvinsman climbing up out of the

  hatch. ‘He threw up that lunch of yours down my

  waistcoat and he bit me right on the nose…’ The

  Second Alvinsman had never been attractive, but he

  was even less pretty now with his nose swelling up to

  twice its normal size.

  Well, you shouldn’t go around kidnapping other

  people’s dragons, should you? thought Hiccup with

  satisfaction.

  BANG! One of Camicazi’s pebbles hit something

  explosive in the distance, as the sound of the Hooligan

  National Anthem rang around the cavern.

  ‘Do you think that’s the Dragonmarkers attacking

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  us?’ said the

  first Alvinsman.

  ‘It must

  be,’ replied the second

  Alvinsman. ‘I’d recognise

  Valhallarama’s singing voice anywhere.

  Very Vicious better hurry back with reinforcements. If

  we get attacked by Dragonmarkers, we can’t defend

  the Things all on our own…’

  The Things.

  So it was just as Hiccup hoped. They had hidden

  Toothless with the other Lost Things!

  A ship was the obvious place to hide them, so

  that if they were attacked they could quickly carry them

  to a new hiding place.

  The Things must be right here on this ship…

  There was a clatter of feet on the platform behind

  them, and a third Alvinsman came climbing up the

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  ladder, a burly man with a large yellow

  moustache.

  ‘Message from the witch,’ panted the third

  Alvinsman. ‘You need to get the Things ready so th
at

  she can move them to a safer location.’

  ‘Are you sure we should get them out of the

  hiding-place?’ said the first Alvinsman. ‘Was that

  exactly what the witch said? You know how cross she

  gets if we do things without being told…’

  They were terrified of the Witch Excellinor. She

  had that effect on people.

  Oh please… begged the watching Hiccup in his

  mind. Please get the Things out of their hiding-place…

  ‘Well what the witch said exactly was: “If they

  don’t get the Things out of their hiding place quickly,

  I will personally remove their backbones with my

  fingernails,” ’ said the third Alvinsman.

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  This had the ring of truth to it, and the two

  Alvinsmen began to twist the pulley that hauled up the

  anchor-rope. It took all their strength to turn the pulley

  round in great grunting heaves.

  And as they drew the anchor rope in, they also

  drew in the Things, one by one.

  ‘Aah…’ sighed the Wodensfang in Hiccup’s

  ear. ‘That was why I kept seeing them floating

  underwater in my dreams…’

  The witch had attached the Things, you see, to

  long ropes tied to the anchor rope. And that was why

  Snotlout had never found them. He must have hunted

  through these boats so many times, in the secrecy and

  darkness of night-time. But he never thought to look

  underwater.

  She was a very nasty woman, that witch, but you

  had to admit that she was rather clever at hiding things.

  First the crown came over the side. Then the

  Roman shield, the arrow-from-the-land-that-does-not-

  exist, the bracelet that contained the heart’s stone, the

  key-that-opens-all-locks, the ticking-thing (smashed but

  still ticking), the Dragon Jewel, the second-best sword

  and, last of all (and this took a great deal of grunting

  and straining on the part of the Alvinsmen), the Lost

  Throne of the Wilderwest… followed by the anchor.

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  The Throne was covered with seaweed, and

  as they heaved it over the side, little jewel-like crabs

  scuttled out of its crevices and scattered all over the

  deck.

  THE THINGS! thought Hiccup exultantly, as a

  crab pattered across his foot. We’ve found the

  Things! Now all that we have to do is steal

  them…

  ‘OK,’ said the first

  Alvinsman nervously, ‘let’s

  stash the Things down in

  the hold so we’re ready to

  move them when the witch

  gives the order.’

  The three Alvinsmen

  hastily untied the Things from the

  anchor-rope and carried them down an

  open hatch.

  ‘Ow!’ came the muffled voice of the first

  Alvinsman. ‘That horrible little dragon bit me again!’

  The three Alvinsmen re-emerged and the first

  Alvinsman slammed down the hatch, bolting and

  padlocking it.

  Hiccup drew a little pouch of hazelnuts out

  from his pocket. (He always kept little treats for

  Toothless in his pocket.)

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  He threw one of the hazelnuts as far as he could

  on to a neighbouring boat, and then ducked behind the

  shadows of the tent-house.

  CLANG!

  ‘What was that?’ bleated the first Alvinsman.

  ‘You two go and investigate, and I’ll look after

  the Things…’ panted the third Alvinsman. ‘We’re

  obviously under some sort of attack.’

  The first and the second Alvinsmen climbed

  down the ladder on to the next boat, swords drawn, to

  investigate the noise.

  The third Alvinsman was leaning way over the

  side of the boat, flare held up high, watching them.

  Hiccup tiptoed up and gave him a big shove.

  The third Alvinsman gave a small, muffled

  scream, and with a satisfying

  SPLASH!

  landed in the water below and…

  CREAK!

  Hiccup pushed the ladder down so that there was

  no way the third Alvinsman could climb back on to the

  boat again. Then he grabbed the boathook, and pushed

  off.

  He had the Things! He had the Things!

  Hiccup’s heart was doing a happy little jig.

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  He hadn’t had a great deal of hope for Plan B,

  but so far, it was working unexpectedly well.

  What Hiccup did not realise, at the time, was that

  the third Alvinsman was not, in fact, an Alvinsman at

  all.

  It was his own mother, Valhallarama.

  You see, Camicazi wasn’t the only one who liked

  to dress up in big blond moustaches.

  Valhallarama had crept into Alvin’s war bunker

  dressed as an Alvinsman, intending to steal the Nine

  Lost Things in time to meet Hiccup back on the beach

  on Doomsday Eve.

  And she would have done it too, if her son had

  not unfortunately mistaken her for a real Alvinsman

  (the blond-moustache disguise in her case was rather

  good, much better than Camicazi’s, because she had

  the acreage to carry it off) and given her a big shove in

  the back that had thrown her into the water.

  ‘Oh, Hiccup,’ sighed Valhallarama to herself, as

  she trod water and ‘accidentally’ let off an arrow in the

  direction of the second Alvinsman, who was firing at

  the deck of the departing boat. ‘I told you not to leave

  the underground hideout. I told you to trust me, and I

  would take care of everything…’

  Valhallarama shook her head forgivingly.

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  ‘But then,’ she mused, ‘maybe I have to learn to

  stand back and let the boy do it his way, make his own

  mistakes.’ She sighed. ‘It is harder to do that than I

  thought.’

  But Hiccup knew nothing of this until much,

  much later.

  He was busy concentrating on the immediate

  problem before him.

  He had to row the boat out of the cavern before

  those Alvinsmen could raise the alarm. Luckily the

  boat was very close to the waterfall. You could hear the

  roaring of the water, like the bellow of a Seadragonus

  Giganticus Maximus…

  Once he was out of the cavern, he would be fine,

  the wind would take the sails.

  … But even though it was such a short distance,

  and not a particularly large boat, how was he to row it

  all on his own?

  Hiccup ran across the deck, towards the oars,

  and peered swiftly into the hatch just to check that

  Toothless was in there.

  ‘Toothless?’ he whispered.

  ‘Master!’ the joyful voice of Toothless

  squeaked back.

  Oh, thank Thor!

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  ‘Don’t worry, Toothless!’ Hiccup yelled through

  the hatch. ‘I haven’t got time to unlock this hatch

  now but I’m going to save you!’

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  16. ‘MY TOOTH…WHERE IS

  MY TOOTH?’

  And then Hiccup stiffened.

  All the hairs on the b
ack of his neck rose like the

  quills on a fretful porcupine. Not two yards in front of

  him, hovering in mid-air, floating in the atmosphere as

  if they were being dangled by a malevolent god…

  … was a pair of evil red eyes.

  And out of airy nothing there came a nasty

  whining wisp of a whisper: ‘My tooth… Whe-e-e-ere is

  my tooth?’

  As soon as Hiccup saw those red eyes, he was

  conscious that his arm had been singing in agony

  around that horrible tooth for the last hour or so. There

  had been so much going on, he had ignored the pain.

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  Slowly, slowly, around those evil red eyes with

  two little slits for pupils, there materialised the body of

  a Vampire Spydragon, crouching on the hatch as if it

  was guarding it.

  The Vampire Spydragon was a revolting sight,

  enough to give you nightmares for years.

  Its head was that of a gigantic bat, with one huge

  cruel-looking vampire tooth protruding from the side

  of its slobbering mouth.

  Its horrible little nose was snuffling as the saliva

  dripped down its vampire fangs.

  That pain in Hiccup’s arm must have been a sign

  that the Vampire Spydragon was using the tooth to

  track him down.

  ‘My tooth…’ whined the Vampire Spydragon,

  ‘Whe-e-ere is my tooth? For I need to eat what I have

  bit…Whe-e-ere is my tooth????’

  Hiccup said nothing, just backed away in terror,

  his left arm hidden behind him.

  ‘Aha!’ rasped the Vampire Spydragon, its wicked

  red eyes lighting up in cruel triumph.

  ‘You are trying to hide it, you nasty little

  burglar, but you cannot conceal it from me… I think

  I spy it… I think I have found it… You stole my

  tooth, you horrible little thief…’

  ‘I didn’t mean to…’ stammered the petrified

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  Hiccup, taking a

  couple of steps backwards.

  ‘You can have it back if you

  like… I don’t want it…’

  ‘You stole my tooth,’

  spat the Vampire Spydragon

  savagely, ‘and now I have

  found it, I shall finish the

  meal that I began…’

  It crouched for a second,

  bat wings stretched out. And

 

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