How to speak Dragonese (8 page)

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flicking through it, muttering to himself, "Release, release -- what's the word for release?"

"I think you'll find the word is 'release,' sir?" advised Hiccup politely.

"Thank you," sneered the Thin Prefect. "Release," he said to the Gronckle, who opened its jaws and the Kidnapper dropped, sprawling onto the floor.

"As you can see," drawled the Thin Prefect, "I need the other half of your book, Hiccup."

Hiccup tried not to look as terrified as he felt.

"How do you know my name?" he asked. "And why are we speaking in Norse, not in Latin?"

The Thin Prefect smiled. "We have met before, you see, Hiccup, many, many times. Why don't you look a little closer?"

Hiccup looked up into the Thin Prefect's eyes, and he gasped as he finally realized who it was.

The man was bald; completely hairless all over. Even his eyelashes had disappeared. But bald as he was and dressed in a toga, this was definitely Hiccup's archenemy -- Alvin the Treacherous, Chief of the Outcast Tribe and the wickedest man in the Inner Isles

"So, "
hissed Alvin, "we meet AGAIN, Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the Third ..."

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Hiccup and Fish legs gazed at him in utter astonishment. The last time they had seen Alain he had been inside the stomach of the Monstrous Strangulator at the bottom of the underground sea-cavern.* How on earth had he got out of THAT tricky situation? And what was he doing posing as a Roman?

"I see you are wondering," smiled Alain nastily, "how I got myself out of THAT tricky situation."

Fish legs and Hiccup nodded.

"It's an
interesting
story," spat Alain, his eyes hissing with fury. "I know you'll enjoy it... I cut myself out of the stomach of the dead Monstrous Strangulator with my sword, and then since you had so kindly ABANDONED me without any dragons, I couldn't get out of the cavern by the sea ..."

"We didn't abandon you!" squeaked Fishlegs. "We didn't know you were alive! How could we know?"

Alvin ignored him. "... so I had no choice but to go through the Caliban Caves. THREE WHOLE MONTHS it took me, creeping through the darkness, eating little cavern dragons raw, licking the walls for

*
How to Be a Pirate.
I would strongly suggest you read this book.

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water ... and then when I finally emerged into the light on your vile little island and stole a ship back to my own land, what happens? My own people SHUN me -- they refuse to have me as their Chief! Because down there in the darkness, in the vile belly of that Strangulator ...
something
happened to me ..."

Alvin's voice became more and more savage.

"The stomach juices of that infernal creature have made my hair fall out. And whoever has heard of a hairless Viking? I was thrown out of my own Tribe and forced into exile. Luckily, I have some Roman blood on my mother's father's side ... and the Empire has use for a clever person like myself. I told them I had thought of a way they could conquer the Vikings by turning the Tribes against each other."

"TRAITOR!" yelled Fishlegs.

"Exactly" smiled Alvin. "And I also have my own plans for a ... DRAGON ARMY" Alvin drew his right arm out of his toga for the first time. An arm that ended not in a hand but in a huge curved HOOK made out of the most brilliant gold.

"I made this hook," he said casually, "out of a single cup of that Treasure. It was the only thing I

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could carry through the Caliban Caves. But I want the rest of it -- I need the rest of it...

[Image: Fort sinister]

"With a DRAGON ARMY I can get the Treasure," continued Alvin. "The dragons can swim down and bring it up for me. But you know what I need first, Hiccup ..."

Alvin drew the point of his hook right against Hiccup's chest. "I need the other half of that book of yours,
How to Speak Dragonese.
I need that book to command the dragons in my Dragon Army. Where is your half of the book, Hiccup? If you tell me I will let

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you and your fish legged friend live. Otherwise I'm afraid I'm going to have to kill you both RIGHT NOW..."

"Tell me what you've done with Toothless first," said Hiccup.

"Oh, Toothless is very safe," grinned Alvin. "He's locked up in one of my dungeons."

Hiccup gave a sigh of relief. At least he wasn't dead.

"Give me the book now," commanded Alvin.

"If I give it to you, will you promise you won't kill us?" asked Hiccup.

"I promise," smiled Alvin.

Hiccup felt into his pocket and handed Alvin his damp and tattered half of
How to Speak Dragonese.
He knew Alvin would find it at some point anyway.

"Thank you," sneered Alvin. He unscrewed the hook from the end of his arm and replaced it with his famous sword, the Stormblade.

"Uh-oh," said Hiccup.

The Fat Consul had finally polished off a large helping of roasted baby Puff Nadders in garlicky Dreamserpent sauce, and he started to take an interest in what was going on.

[Image: A fish.]

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ELEVENSES MENU
for His Most Noble Fatness the Fat Consul

HORS D'OEUVERS

Roasted baby Puff Nadders in garlicky

Dreamserpent sauce

Lark's tongue soup with crunchy

nanodragon heads on the side

ENTREES

Whole roast ox marinated in pickled

Slitherhawk and shark's eyeballs

Double Reptoburger with extra cheese and Picallilli penguins

Live Frog-and-Dormouse soufflés in

Common-or-Garden sauce

PAUSE FOR A VOMIT

LES DESSERTS

Monstrous Nightmare Crème Brulee with

Smoked haddock and chocolate mousse

Sticky toffee Nadder and whelk pudding

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"Who have you got over there, Prefect?" he drawled, wiping the cream from the third of his chins. Hiccup noticed that he wasn't looking too well. He was covered from head to toe in nasty red bites, and every now and then he reached out a fat arm to scratch his gigantic blubbery behind.

"This," said Alvin grimly, "is the Heir to the Hairy Hooligans."

"The extraordinarily powerful warrior you were telling me about?" asked the Fat Consul. He looked at Hiccup in astonishment. "But he's so very, very small!"

"Size isn't everything," replied Alvin the Treacherous.

"What are you going to do with him then, Prefect?" asked the Fat Consul.

"I'm going to kill him," said Alvin, giving the Storm blade a nasty swish.

"You promised you wouldn't!" protested Hiccup.

"Tsk, tsk," tutted Alvin, "haven't you learned by now that a Treacherous never keeps his promise?"

"Hang on a second, my dear Prefect," drawled the Fat Consul. "It seems a waste to kill him now.

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Let him live until Saturn's day Saturday -- I would like to see this extraordinary warrior in action in the gladiatorial arena ..."

"That's not a good idea, Consul," said Alvin. "This boy may not look much, but I assure you I have seen him in action and he could ruin all our plans. We must kill him NOW while we have the chance."

"Who gives the orders round here?" asked the Fat Consul.

"I d --" Alvin recollected himself just in time. "I mean,
you
do, of course, Consul." Alvin bowed fawningly at him. "But --"

"No arguing, please, Prefect," ordered the Consul.

"At least let me kill the one who looks like a haddock," pleaded Alvin the Treacherous.

"Fishlegs is a BERSERK*, you know, Consul," said Hiccup hurriedly. "I'm sure he'd put on a very exciting fighting display as a gladiator."

"Really?"
exclaimed the Fat Consul. "This is proving a very interesting morning. I've never met

*You know the expression "going berserk"? Well, Berserks were Vikings who vent crazy on the battlefield. Good men to have on your side. Not so good when hey were on the
other
side, though...

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a Berserk before. He should be most amusing at the Games. The one with the face like a fish lives too, I'm afraid, Prefect."

"But sir --"

The Fat Consul waved away Alvin's objections with one fat hand.

"Put the prisoners in the dungeon with the Bog-Burglar Heir!"

Alvin fought to control his temper. He smiled at the Consul through very gritted teeth. "Of course you know best, sir," he said. "But don't blame me if it all goes wrong ..."

Alvin turned to the Gronckle. "Sit on me!" he ordered in his extremely poor Dragonese. "And put me in the toilet with the other Heirs!"

The Gronckle promptly sat on Alvin. The First Kidnapper had to prod the dragon very hard with the handle of his sword to get the Gronckle off before he squashed Alvin entirely. When he finally emerged from underneath the creature's bottom, Alvin was hopping mad.

"No, no, no!" he shrieked, and then tried to put together the two halves of
How to Speak Dragonese,
muttering swearwords under his breath as he looked

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for the right page. "Ah, here it is!" he said with satisfaction.
"Pick my nose and put me in the
toilet with the Bog-Burglar Heir!"

The Second Kidnapper had to lash out furiously with his sword-handle to prevent the Gronckle from picking Alvin's nose with its gigantic talons. And then the creature picked Alvin up and started trying to stuff him in the Fat Consul's gigantic toilet.

"Carry
on!" shrieked Alvin.

[Image: Alvin in the toilet.]

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"Can
I
help?" asked Hiccup. He talked to the Gronckle directly. "I think what the Prefect is TRYING to say is, pick US up and put US in the Tower with the Bog-Burglar Heir..."

The Gronckle picked up Hiccup and Fishlegs by the scruffs of their necks as if they were two kittens.

"At least," pleaded Hiccup to Alvin as he swung from the Gronckle's jaws, "won't you do a good thing for once in your life and set Toothless free? You don't need him and he's never done anything to
you
..."

Alvin tried to look dignified as he climbed out of the toilet.

Which was tricky.

"That isn't true," he said. "That dragon once did a poo in my helmet. A Treacherous Never Forgives. He can stay in that dungeon and rot for all I care ... Actually, I've just had a better idea -- he can join you in the arena on Saturn's day Saturday and you can all die a horrible death together ..." Alvin gave a gruesome smirk and waved his hand at the Gronckle.

"Take them away," he ordered, for once getting the Dragonese right, and the Gronckle trotted off to the Tower with the boys in his mouth, followed by the First Kidnapper. The huge animal clattered up the