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 15

by Cressida Cowell


  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.

 

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