then it sprang, and sank its
vampire jaws deep into Hiccup’s
left arm, exactly where it had
bitten him only twenty-four hours
earlier.
Hiccup screamed, and
desperately hit the Vampire
Spydragon around its ghastly head.
Windwalker attacked it too, raking
at its thick hairy hide.
But the Vampire Spydragon
would not let go.
Ironically, Hiccup’s
whole left side – arm,
shoulder, leg and
everything – had just
begun to feel slightly
better. Now he could
feel the paralysis creeping
back, a deadening
numbness, and as he
looked down, he saw the
black-purple stain
flowering again.
Vampire Spydragons don’t let go, thought Hiccup.
They have jaws like bear-traps and they never let go…
Hiccup tried to remember all that he knew about
Vampire Spydragons, whether they had any weak
points, but his mind was so confused by the pain in his
arm he could not remember anything at all.
He desperately punched at the Spydragon’s head
with his right fist, but the Spydragon merely gripped
tighter.
Hiccup was aware that he was screaming, but he
couldn’t really hear the noise he was making.
What could he use that was around him on the
boat?
A confused mess of rope lay on the deck, from
where the Alvinsmen had hauled up the Lost Things
and the anchor.
Trying to ignore the pain, Hiccup pulled the
Spydragon forward so that it stepped into the rope
coils, then wriggled and threw himself around in the
creature’s grip.
Iron jaws still holding tight, the Spydragon
thrashed about, trying to keep hold of him, each
maddened lunge getting its legs more thoroughly
entangled with the rope.
And then came Hiccup’s chance.
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Windwalker leapt in and attacked the softer
underside of the Spydragon’s stomach, which was the
rather repellent white of a maggot and provided little
defence.
At the same time, Wodensfang, little old limbs
creaking, launched himself at the Vampire Spydragon’s
head.
The double attack worked.
The Vampire Spydragon screamed in agony
and dropped Hiccup for a second, turning to strike
at Windwalker. Windwalker lunged back and the two
dragons locked jaws.
Hiccup limped to the anchor, which was
balancing on the side of the boat.
With all the strength he had left, he h-e-e-e-eaved
it over the side.
SPLASH!
The anchor landed in the sea below, narrowly
missing the head of Valhallarama, still swimming in
the water just beside the boat, and swamping her so
thoroughly that it removed her blond moustache.
There was an intervening pause, where the weight
of the sinking anchor pulled on the rope, which then
whipped around the deck as if it were a live serpent.
The Spydragon shook off Windwalker, and
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turned again to face Hiccup, jaws wide in an avenging
scream… Its red eyes fixed on Hiccup. It crouched
down to pounce, and this time it would aim for
Hiccup’s heart with its one remaining vampire tooth.
The Death Strike.
But just as it leapt, the whirling, spinning rope
of the anchor pulled tight around the Spydragon’s leg,
and an expression of comical surprise came over the
Spydragon’s face (if anything that terrifying could ever
really look comical) as it was dragged violently across
the deck, and over the side, and into the water, this
time with a really resounding…
SPLASSSHHHH!
Hiccup clasped his hand to his arm, which was
bleeding profusely.
Sticking out of the wound was another Vampire
Spydragon tooth.
Now I have a pair! thought Hiccup, a little
hysterically.
He tried to pull it out, but like the first one, it was
in too deep. So he tore a strip from his shirt to bind up
the wound.
CLAP! CLAP! CLAP!
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There was a slow, derisive clapping of hands
behind him.
Hiccup straightened, and turned around
unsteadily…
And there, leaning against the mast of the ship,
one leg elegantly crossed over another, was Snotlout.
17. THE SWORDFIGHT
‘Well done, Useless, well done,’ drawled Snotlout.
‘Very neat dealing with the Spydragon there. I really
thought you were a goner.’
The Hurricane sloped out from behind the mast,
growling warningly. Windwalker snarled in response,
and the two riding-dragons paced warily around each
other on the deck, their spines pointing upwards as if
they were about to fight.
Hiccup caught his breath.
It was impossible to read the expression on
Snotlout’s face
‘Snotlout…’ he said slowly.
‘Yes, yes, yes,’ said Snotlout, waving his hand
dismissively. ‘I know, I’m a villain, and a rogue, and a
Very Naughty Boy and everything, and I betrayed all
you goody-goodies, and aren’t I terrible, tut tut TUT,
but let’s get this ship sailing and out of the cavern first,
and then we can argue to our heart’s content…’
Hiccup and Snotlout took up an oar each, and
rowed towards the waterfall.
Soft as a shadow, and unoticed in that
lightning-lit cavern with the Battle Under the Waterfall
raging at its height, the ship carrying the Lost Things
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slipped out from under the waterfall and into
Wrecker’s Bay.
Snotlout put away his oar, and took out his
sword.
‘Fight me,’ said Snotlout.
‘But I don’t want to fight you,’ said Hiccup.
‘FIGHT ME!’ roared Snotlout.
‘I haven’t got a sword,’ said Hiccup.
Snotlout always carried two swords, and he threw
Hiccup his second-best one. With the other, he made
furious imaginary passes in the air.
‘Why don’t you want to fight me? Is it because
you are scared?’
‘Not really,’ admitted Hiccup, and that seemed
to enrage Snotlout even further. ‘I’m a little scared, but
mostly I just don’t want to fight you.’
‘You ought to be scared,’ said Snotlout. ‘That bite
from the Vampire Spydragon means you won’t be able
to use your left hand. FIGHT ME! I have betrayed you
yet again… Why won’t you hate me?’
Snotlout was so flushed with anger, in such a
state of emotion, that the words came tumbling out as
if they were beyond his control. ‘HATE ME!’
‘Snotlout, I don’t hate you… and I forgive you
for betraying me again… I understand why you keep
doing it…’
‘Oooh, you are so i
rritating. You keep being so
heroic all the time. Stop forgiving me. Stop it! You
don’t understand anything! I DON’T WANT TO BE
FORGIVEN!’
‘Snotlout, I don’t want to fight you because I
think we should be trying to get these Lost Things out
of here…’
‘But I’m NOT ON YOUR SIDE!’ howled
Snotlout. ‘IF YOU WON’T FIGHT ME NOW, I
SWEAR I WILL KILL YOU!’
Hiccup shrugged off his backpack with the
sleeping Hogfly in it, and put it carefully down in a coil
of rope so the little dragon wouldn’t get hurt. Hiccup’s
eyes never left Snotlout’s face.
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‘All right, then,’
said Hiccup, ‘if you insist.’
Snotlout lunged at him.
Automatically (and clumsily, for it
was with his right hand), Hiccup parried the
lunge.
‘Oh dear,’ sighed the Wodensfang,
sadly fluttering down to perch on the tiller.
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‘Some humans… always fighting… if only it didn’t
have to be this way…’
With a cry of horror, Windwalker dived down to
protect his Master… but was attacked in mid-air by the
Hurricane who brought him rolling down into the sea.
Snotlout slashed forward with a Flashburn Fancy
that overwhelmed Hiccup’s guard and gave him a nasty
gash on the shoulder that stung like a viper’s bite.
Hiccup only just managed to throw the larger boy
off, and roll out of the way, before clumsily ducking
behind the masthead. His left side was so numb now it
was like dragging a great dead weight.
‘All right,’ screamed Snotlout, beside himself
with rage, ‘Mr Smarty-Pants, I’m-Such-A-Hero,
I’m-So-Good-at-Putting-Myself-in-Other-People’s-
Shoes, you tell me, Hiccup. You tell me why I keep
betraying you all the time!’
He lunged forward, trying to reach Hiccup with
his sword around the mast.
‘I think it’s because you could have been a King
yourself,’ said Hiccup.
This was like adding another log on to a fire.
‘YOU BET I COULD HAVE!’ screamed
Snotlout, attacking Hiccup with every single sword
thrust he knew. ‘I SHOULD HAVE BEEN THE
HERO! IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN ME! I have
everything! The physique, the intelligence, the
ruthlessness, the charm. All I ever wanted was to be a
Chief, a leader. IS THAT SO MUCH TO ASK? But
it was denied to me, just because I was the son of the
second son, not the first.
‘Is that not unfair?’
‘It is very unfair,’ admitted Hiccup.
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‘Until I was three years old, I was the Heir to the
Hooligan Tribe!’ roared Snotlout. ‘I still remember
the respect in everyone’s eyes when they looked at
me. Their eyes followed my every movement. And you
know what, Hiccup? I would have made a great Chief,
a grand Chief. Being a Chief would have brought out
the best in me…
‘And then,’ Snotlout’s voice darkened, ‘and then
you were born. A weak little mewling mistake of a
RUNT… and everything changed…’ He spat out each
word as if it were bitter as poison. ‘Suddenly you were
the centre of attention. Suddenly you were going to be
the next Chief… and then you were going to be the
Hero… and then you were going to be the King…’
Snotlout lunged forward, breaking through
Hiccup’s feeble guard, and Hiccup dodged out of the
way in the nick of time.
‘Do you want to know why I call you Useless?’
yelled Snotlout bitterly. ‘Because that is what YOU
made ME, just by being born. However hard I try, I
will only be the spare and not the Heir.
‘You made me useless, not needed any more.
‘Before YOU came along I had never been
jealous of anyone. YOU brought that out of me. You
made me pinch you, hit you when no one else was
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looking…
and then afterwards,
in secret, I despised myself for
acting in such an un-Heroic
fashion. Look what you brought
me to!’
‘I’m sorry…’ said Hiccup,
nearly losing his footing. ‘I didn’t
mean to…’
‘And then you release
the Dragon Furious from
Berserk…’
‘I didn’t mean to…’
said Hiccup. ‘It was an
accident…’
‘You never mean
to! It’s always an
accident! You
take my whole
world from
me, and it’s
all just an
accident!’ said
Snotlout savagely.
‘There was
absolutely nothing
wrong with the world
that YOU have just
wrecked. I loved that
world and everything
about it. I loved the
danger of riding on a
dragon’s back, the hunting,
the storms and the shipwrecks,
stealing dragons’ eggs from the dragon
hatching-grounds, swordfighting, Bashyball,
my whole lost life on the Isle of Berk, I loved
absolutely everything about it…
‘And then it was gone…’
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The ache in Snotlout’s voice was unbearable. He
fought in earnest, with wild, plunging lashes, Hiccup
dodging this way and that, handicapped as he was
by the weak awkwardness of his right arm and his
ridiculous numb leg which made him hop around like a
poor broken seabird.
‘ALL… YOUR… FAULT…’
As Snotlout pressed the advantage, Hiccup could
feel himself tiring. The ache in his left shoulder was
becoming unmanageable.
‘And then you keep on saving my life, and
forgiving me for it, and it just makes you look like this
big Hero, and I’m supposed to be grateful…
‘Well I’m NOT grateful!
‘Because you have taken away everything about
my life that is worth living for!’
Snotlout kept ranting between ferocious lunges,
either at the gods above or at himself.
‘Look, gods, see how good I am!’ he shouted.
He plunged forward in a flurry of ferocious
lunges.
He made a Flashburn Flunge (a very fancy lunge
accompanied by a leap through the air), a Baggybum
Balletic (one of his own father’s moves, a jump and
a stamp, followed by an aggressive launch at the
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opponent, simultaneously running very quickly past in
case you missed them) and five Cunning Remises in a
row, as if he were showing those deaf old gods Woden
and Thor exactly how wrong they were in not choosing
him to be the finder of the Lost Things in the first
place.
Snotlout’s last sword thrust sent Hiccup’s own
sword spinning out of his hand, and Hiccup’s left side
gave way beneath him, and he knelt before his cousin,
>
with Snotlout’s victorious face right above him.
‘Look!’ panted Snotlout. ‘I AM NOT
USELESS, I AM THE BEST! I AM BETTER
THAN HICCUP IN EVERY WAY!’
His face contorted with emotion. Snotlout stood
there, the sword pointing at Hiccup’s chest, his arm
shaking.
‘I could kill you now,’ said Snotlout.
‘But even if I kill you now,’ he raged, ‘even if I
kill you now, and take the Things for myself, even if I
do that…’
And then he paused, a long time, before he spoke
the truth.
‘No one will follow me.’
‘Yes, I’m sorry, Snotlout…’ said Hiccup, although
the words seemed inadequate.
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‘HATE ME, for Thor’s sake, you horrible little
cousin!’ Snotlout shouted. ‘Why won’t you hate
me?’
‘I am so sorry, Snotlout,’ said Hiccup, and
he really did mean it. ‘I just genuinely can’t hate
you…’
‘You feel sorry for me, don’t you?’ said
Snotlout fiercely. ‘You PITY me. Don’t you?’
Hiccup said nothing, because they both knew it
was true.
‘How dare you pity me!’ roared Snotlout. ‘How
dare you!
‘STOP FORGIVING ME! STOP IT! Why can’t
you understand? I need to be angry! I have to keep
being angry! Because if I slow down and I stop being
angry, I have to look at where I am now…’
Snotlout’s sword was trembling. Something in his
voice changed, from anger to absolute despair.
‘If I stop being angry, then I have to look back at
what I have been fighting for all these years, and it has
all been for nothing.
‘If I stop being angry it bursts on me, like a kind
of horror, that perhaps my hatred of you has led me to
fight for the wrong side.
‘My hatred of you crept in like a green poison and
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twisted my judgement, clouded my sight and led me to
follow Alvin, that evil thing, and there I lost my way.
‘Now I have seen what Alvin is, and that devil, his
mother, and I know that he is worse than I ever dreamt
evil could be.
How To Train Your Dragon: How to Betray a Dragon's Hero Page 15