Author's Note:

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Well, here it is: the continuation of my story "The Dragon King," and I advise that anyone who has not read the first part to do so before reading this one.

At the moment updates will be every Saturday, barring the unforeseen. Updates will become more frequent eventually, as the story gets closer to completion.

Feel free to comment and give constructive criticism!

And now, without further ado:

The Dragon King: The Eye and the Alpha

Chapter 1

Who Has the Eye?

She made her way through the woods. It was a night of complete mystery. The stars were near invisible. She turned at the slightest sound and constantly looked behind her to determine if anyone was following. There was a half moon in the sky but it seemed bereft of its usual tranquil beauty, instead it felt distant, cold, and icy; like a statue of cold marble. In the woods it was often blocked from view by the black trees. Only the smallest lines of deep blue were visible from in between their indistinguishable branches. She made her way down a path and finally came to one of the beaches on the coast. There she could hear the sound of the ocean frothing onto the shore, but could only slightly make out the line of the dark waves. And there, seated on a rock on the border between the beach and the forest sat a figure in clad in black.

She approached the figure and raised a hand. "Blood and gore"

"And none leave poor." The other recited while making the same arm movement, "Well, have you got it?"

"Yes," she gestured to an iron chest tucked under her arm, "and all but one of the lenses."

"Where's the last one?"

"Still hidden. I haven't found the map to it yet."

"All right." The two then went their separate ways, she went back to the woods; he went down the beach with the chest to where a small group of men were waiting.

"We've got it," he said to them, "now into the boat and let's get out of—"

At that instant an arrow hit him in the chest.

The men whipped out their weapons but it was too late for most of them. A volley of arrows sung through the air. A second volley rang out and nobody was left standing on the beach. New figures clad in black emerged from the trees, almost as if they had just come out of thin air. One approached the fallen men, the rest stood at hand to provide cover.

This person took a look at one dead man and kicked his corpse off the iron chest. "Fools and murders, every last one of them. The world's better off without them. Excellent shooting, everyone."

"Is it there, your Highness?" one of them called.

The woman took out an iron key and opened the chest. Inside was a cylindrical device that resembled a telescope. One end was carved to look like a dragon's head. Its opened mouth revealed a large crystal. The center of the device consisted of strange interlocking wheels covered in symbols. Beside it in the box were a number of etched lenses encircled by metal.

"It is all there," She announced after inspecting the contents. Her companions gave sighs of relief and delight. She closed and locked the chest and picked it up. "Let us return."

As they walked she talked briefly with one of them.

"Enjoying your first night out on the job?"

"I didn't really do anything, Highness,"

"There will be plenty to do in the future, do not worry," she turned to another. "Now, is the last map still safe?"

"Yes, my queen!"

"Good. You will meet with me when we have returned to discuss its continued safety."

"Will we recover the last of the lenses?"

"If it can be done safely. I will think on it."

"Majesty, something worries me. How did those trappers manage to steal Eye? How did they even know about the Eye?"

"Spies, most likely. And they are expert thieves, without conscience,"

"You don't think He might have been involved with this?" One of them said nervously.

"Why would He move against us on the side of the hunters? He might promote blasphemy and treat dragons like enslaved pets, but He does not trap and kill them for profit like those men do, as far as we know." The Queen was debating in her head whether or not it was time she met with Him and learned exactly what kind of man he was and what they should do about Him.

Her words had hardly been reassuring but the mention of the word 'spies' had made them all grow silent and more alert to their surroundings.

Once they had reached a clearing, without any warning, a dragon swooped down in the midst of them. A human leapt off its back and, swinging a long pike, knocked the chest from the Queen's hands and into the Dragons mouth, which at once clamped down on it. Without a word the human jumped back onto the dragon and they flew away. The attack could not have lasted 15 seconds. Nobody had even had time to pull out their bows or load them.

For a moment everyone just stood dumbfounded. Then they roared and fired arrows into the sky.

"Do not waste your shots," The Queen snapped, "they're long gone now!"

Everyone eyed her nervously. She took deep breaths to calm herself.

Then one of them piped up. "So He does move against us—but is it for Himself or for others?"

"What was that?" the Queen asked sharply. Several others echoed her.

"I just said He does move against us, Highness,"

"Are you saying—?"

"That was Him, Highness."

"Are you certain?"

"Positive."

"My Queen?" someone asked uncertainly,

"We shall return to camp," She announced firmly.

"And just let them go with the Dragon Eye after we'd just recovered it?" another exclaimed incredulously.

"Do not worry: we shall have it back soon. But we need a new plan now. This new foe is smarter than those Hunters were tonight. We must adjust accordingly."

"Forgive me for asking, my Queen, but what exactly was that?" another asked.

"That," said the one who had said 'he does move against us' "was the Dragon King."

The Queen spoke coldly. "The man who controls dragons. The man who delights in making them His pets and beasts of burden, as a Baron uses a horse. The man who last year destroyed a dragon enslaver and took his place. And He now has the Dragon Eye."

"But I thought the Dragon King rode on a Night Fury!" the least experienced of them exclaimed.

"And He can't change dragons? He's enslaved enough, He could ride a different one each day for several years,"

The Queen nodded. "But if you're right and He has the Dragon Eye now, we shall have it back soon enough. Do not worry."

The Viking Archipelago was dotted with numerous islands. With many of these islands came ports, and with these ports came taverns. These were places for merchants, sailors, thugs, drunks, and travelers to stop at and spend the night or get some sustenance in the form of cheap food and cheaper drink—especially the latter. Yet despite the different cliental, there was one unspoken rule: everybody minds their own business. So when Ingrid, daughter of the Keeper of the Red Unicorn, saw a tall man dressed in black and wearing a mask and scarf enter the place and take a seat in a corner, she thought little of it. After all, if he wanted a place to stay or something to eat and had the money to pay for it, who was she to judge his choice of apparel?

"Evening, stranger," she said when she reached his table, "what'll it be tonight? We have roasted beef, hot potatoes, and a flagon of ale on special!"

"That'll be fine, thank you," he said. His voice was gruff and nasally, but that might have been because the scarf muffled it.

"And we have nice clean beds upstairs—some big enough for two people!" she added with a suggestive smile. Not that she had any intention of sleeping with him. Rather, it was a standard rule in the tavern business to flirt with single male customers to see how they would react.

The man declined to take the bait. "I'm sure that would be wonderful, but I'll just take the food. I've got to be on the move soon."

"A busy life?" she smiled.

"You have no idea,"

At that moment the doors were kicked opened and a man who could only have been a sailor stood in the doorway. "MEAD! I NEED MEAD, MATES! I NEED A DRINK OR ME POOR NERVES'LL FALL TO PIECES! MEAD!"

His order was quickly met and he drained most of the flagon in one gulp. "That's better! Mead's proof that them Gods are lookin' after us, I tell ya, mates!"

"What's gotcha all in a fix, mate?" someone asked.

"Oh, this last voyage, it's jest terrible!" the man moaned, "We caught a dragon! And when ships have dragons on board these days, every minute drags on fer-eva!"

"Why?" a woman asked.

"Ya have to ask?" he cried, "because any ship with a dragon can expect an attack from the DRAGON KING!" he howled these last words as if he was talking about a ghost.

A few years ago his listeners would have laughed and teased him for being a superstitious worrier. But these days they knew it was no laughing matter. Depending on who you talked to, the Dragon King could be either the most remarkable or fearsome man in existence. For most Dragon Hunters he was the most feared—and hated. Dragon hunting was in dire straits these days; so much so that catching a single dragon was now considered a good and lucky day. And to be out at sea and have the King come out of nowhere, partly destroy the ship, and steal the only chance of getting a profit, was a distressing and nerve wrecking experience. The sailor explained that they had been expecting to get attacked day and night, and he declared all the waiting was even worse than getting burned alive.

"At least with burning ya know it'll end soon," he moaned.

Dragon hunting used to be a thriving business. And then, less than a year ago, a large number of Viking tribes reversed their traditions of killing dragons and outlawed hunting them. For the hunters who had made their hunting grounds in the Archipelago, this meant longer voyages to capture and sell dragons, and longer voyages meant more expense and more risk of getting raided.

The man was now joined by some of his shipmates, all eager for some mead too. With them present more people began swapping stories about the Dragon King. These Dragon Hunters were brave men in fights and no strangers to risk and danger but, like many who spent long stretches of time at sea, they were also highly superstitious. On a night like this, where the roaring fire looked more menacing than cozy, when the half moon was faint, and the deep black ocean just a hundred meters away, with the wind occasionally sounding like a ghost's moan, even the more skeptical would have had difficulty in not seeing menacing shapes in the shadows, believing they saw movement in the sky above them, or mistaking creaking timbers for something far more sinister.

"And this is one of the few ports left for a Dragon Hunter to dock in without the authorities getting involved!" The Dragon trade was illegal here, but thanks to some legal loopholes, moored ships containing dragons as cargo were permitted—provided an extra docking fee was paid. "At all the old spots, the Mayors and Governors and Chiefs are saying 'no' to us! An' these places are all gittin' so x-pense-ive! That darn Dragon King, he's ruining our business!"

"Do you think it's true that he destroyed an entire fleet?"

"Did he really kill Drago Bludvist?"

"Is it even a 'He'? I know we call it a 'King,' but who knows what their sex really is?"

"Does he really ride the Offspring of Lightning and Death?"

As mentioned, people of the sea are often highly superstitious. They are also often ill-informed and in the dark about things land lubbers already know about. For instance, most of the Archipelago and, certainly most of the Viking tribes in it knew about the Dragon King. They knew who he really was, what he was really doing, and knew much about what he had done in the past. But the superstitious and ill-informed sailors knew only bits of these things, and what they did not know was easily filled in with rumors and exaggerations. News was not the most reliable when it reached the average person in the year 1071. So the fact that the King and his followers virtually never killed anyone, directly or not, was overlooked by these hunters. After all, there was always a first time, and who was to say they might not be the first victims? Fear has a bad habit of making people think like that.

"I don't think he's that bad," Ingrid remarked to the stranger when she came to take away his plate. She could see he was listening to the stories with interest. "The Dragon King, I mean. I think it's kinda neat, him ruling over dragons and flying around on them,"

"You like dragons?" the man asked.

"I don't know if I like them, but I don't mind them. They're like wolves or whales: I don't see them here, so I neither like nor dislike them," she started laughing, "though of course, if I met one, I'd probably run away or throw something at it,"

"Fair enough,"

"But still, to fly with dragons…" her face took on a dreamy expression, "that sounds amazing. Certainly better than being forced to clean tables every day and being nice to all the idiots who comes in here when I'd rather strangle them,"

"I'll pretend I didn't hear that," her customer said dryly.

"Oh I didn't mean you, sir. You've behaved yourself perfectly! I was talking about men like—" at that moment one man drunkenly shouted he wanted to do a striptease for the Pope of Lisbon. Then he spilled his mug on his table and pants. Ingrid groaned and picked up a towel. "—like that,"

"I see your point,"

The mead might have helped the Dragon Hunters calm their nerves, but the talk about the Dragon King soon led to ghost stories, and it was a very brave man who left the tavern alone while this was going on. Most of them left in small groups.

At length, the man in the corner stood up, left some coins, and went over to the Dragon Hunters, who were also preparing to head out. "Say, mates, I heard you've got a dragon on your ship? Would you like an extra set of hands keeping it secure?"

They eyed the man suspiciously. "Ya don't look much like a Dragon Hunter," one with a rat-like face said, "Yer too thin,"

"Maybe, but I'm superb with locks and restraints. No dragon's ever escaped from one of my contraptions,"

"Why the mask?" another demanded.

"A Dragon burned most of my face off years ago," he said, "but I can still fight."

"What 'appened to yer leg?" another asked, for a metal prosthetic was where his lower left leg should have been. It was a more complicated prosthetic than any of them had ever seen.

"A dragon fight," he replied simply, "I made the peg myself,"

As the decision was up to their captain, they let him accompany them back to their ship, after he left and collected his things. Their captain was as superstitious as the next man and anxious to get going. They had only stopped to take on provisions and get a quick rest in a presumably safe place. But people often times will excuse their own faults while also grow impatient when someone else exhibits the same problem. So when he saw his crew approaching and looking nervous he shouted contemptuously "Come on, now, hurry up! Lookit ya lot! We've finely caught a dragon and yer all skeered! Now shape up and look sharp, ya bunch-a-fools, coz we're gittin' this beast ta port and no stewpid Dragon Wizard King is gonna stop us! Why we're—who's this?"

"New recruit, sir. Claims to be great with locks,"

"A locksmith, ehh? What's yer name?"

"Nacht the Furious," The man replied, "and I come cheap: ten silver pieces when we arrive and I'll wave my share of the profit."

This was enough to convince the captain to sign him on. Having an extra person meant smaller shares for everyone, so finding one willing to wave their share was a welcome gesture. The captain agreed quickly and then shouted at his crew to get the ship ready.

It was a very dark night; so dark that had any of them chanced to look out into the harbor, they would probably not have seen what appeared to be a slightly domed black rock, which had not been there a minute ago. Nor would they have seen it a minute later, for it slipped back underwater.

Nacht the Furious went down to inspect the cargo, accompanied by two others. The dragon chained up was a Gronkle, which was a good prize, given the difficulties in catching dragons these days. Now the question was how long it would stay caught. They could, of course, simply kill it, but dragons had a tendency to decompose quickly. Not only would that reduce what they could sell, and these days every piece counted, but the ship would start to stink horribly. Whenever possible, hunters avoided killing dragons until the last minute.

Nacht took one look at the Gronkle's chains and groaned. "No, no, no, that's not how you do it!"

"Do what?" one of the Hunters asked.

"You don't put lock the chain like this, you—oh for crying out loud, who did this? It's a miracle the thing hasn't freed itself yet!" he went right up to the chains and started tinkering with them.

"Should you really be doing that?"

"Well somebody's got to do it or we're not getting any richer!" He quietly made some growling noises, which the other hunters decided were curses.

Suddenly the ship listed so badly it nearly threw them all against the wall. Shouts were heard from the deck, and the two Hunters rushed up to see what was going on. Nacht stayed put, still tinkering with the chains.

A dragon had climbed up the side of the ship and was sitting on the railing. It was completely black except for two green eyes that pierced through the darkness like possessed lanterns. Its large bat-like wings were spread and its sharp teeth were bared, giving it a ferocious appearance. It let out a loud, high pitched scream rang through the air and sent shivers up and down every spine. One man nearly jumped overboard as he shrieked "NIGHT FURY!" There was only one known Night Fury in the region and the Dragon King rode it.

The Captain roared "SHUT IT AN' GIT THEM SPEARS YA BUNCH-A—" They never found out what they were a bunch of, for the ship lurched again and the Gronkle answered the Night Fury's call. Suddenly the Captain put two and two together, rushed over to the cargo hold, and slammed the grate shut.

"GOTCHA, DRAGON KING!" he shouted gleefully, "Thought ya could fool me, did ya? Well, now we've got an even bigger prize! Muzzle that dragon!"

That was easier said than done. The Night Fury, which so far had been content to just sit where it was, now leapt onto the deck, swung its tail in all directions, and spat plasma at anyone who tried to get close. But it did not take off, nor did it try to destroy the ship. It was as if it was just playing with them. And the Captain would not be played with.

"GIT THE NETS!" he roared, "An' what's that noise?" Over the shouts of the hunters and the dragon he could faintly make out what sounded like wood being broken.

"Sir, is it just me or are we listing?" someone yelled back. The ship did seem to be tilting to the starboard side more than it ought, in spite of the fact that there was a full grown dragon on the port side.

The Captain was about to respond when something else caught his attention. The Gronkle was hovering above the starboard side of the ship and the Dragon King was sitting on it. In his hand was a sword made of fire, which illuminated him demonically.

"Sorry about the leak, but you can fix it if you've got the tools!" the King, formally known as Nacht the Furious, called to them. Then he yelled an imitation of a Night Fury's cry. The black dragon leapt off the boat and into the air, while the King leapt off the Gronkle and landed perfectly on the first dragon's back.

Before they flew away the King saw a crowd had gathered at the docks, probably attracted by the noise. He spotted Ingrid and waved. She watched, first stunned and then delighted, as he and the two dragons vanished into the night sky.

The Captain rounded on his men as the ship developed an uglier list. "YA STEWPID FOOLS! DIDN'T YA DISARM 'IM BEFORE LOCKIN' 'IM UP? QUICK! GIT THE 'AMMERS AN' THEM PLANKS! AND GIT THEM BUCK-ITS!"

In one of the very eastern corners of the Archipelago there stood a tall, dark, and remote castle. One of many built on the fjords overlooking the strategic coastlines of Scandinavia. And in one of the castle's rooms Eret Son of Eret, the once self proclaimed greatest dragon hunter in existence, watched as fellow Dragon Hunter Ryker threw a fit. He threw a flagon at the man who brought them the news, whipped out his sword and began slashing at a table; mutilating the chicken and bread he had been eating moments before.

"Foiled again!" Ryker shouted, "Lost 10 men and we don't have anything to show for it! When my brother hears about this—"

"Yes, we know what will happen, it's been happening a lot recently," Eret snapped, "Especially after the Snow Wraith that escaped last month. Everything's been going wrong these days! Why should today be any different?"

"What're we gonna do about it? We try to steal this Dragon Eye thing because Viggo tells us to and what happens? It gets stolen from right under our noses! And then to top it off we hear someone caught the Dragon King and he escaped! Viggo will have us flayed alive for this!" he threw himself into his chair and shouted at the messenger to get out and bring him some more ale.

"The Dragon King, the Dragon King, all we ever heard about is the Dragon King." Ryker grumbled, "First he starts interfering with Drago Bludvist, then he makes nearly the whole Archipelago unsafe for our trappers, brings our trade to a near halt, costs us fortunes in repairs, and now this!" he threw his hands up in exasperation.

"Have you ever considered maybe we should cut our losses and find a different occupation?" Eret suggested.

"And admit defeat? Let it be known that some kid who was once called 'Useless' has beaten us?"

"Pride comes before the fall."

"And the world does not tolerate weakness and failure!" Ryker retorted,

"Bludvist thought like that and he's dead now. The stories say he was torn to pieces. Is that the fate you want, Ryker?"

Ryker stood up. "Are you threatening me, Eret Son of Eret?" Both men were tall and muscular, so neither was really intimidated by the other.

"Not at all. I'm merely saying that there comes a time to admit defeat before things get even worse. And I don't see how they can get better now. Dragon Riders are all over the place, stealing all the dragons we catch, wrecking our ships and equipment, and even when we do catch a dragon where can we sell it? All the tribes we used to sell goods to are gone or against us now. Face the facts! The Outcasts were virtually destroyed in the war last year, the Hysterics have changed sides ever since Norbert's death, the Murderous Tribe doesn't want to risk a confrontation now that it's in the minority, Dagur was banished by his own tribe, and then there are the other tribes. The Owl Guts, the Meatheads, the Hairy Hooligans, the Bog Burglars, and all the rest of them, they haven't been safe for us since the last war. Good grief, Ryker, isn't it about time to call it quits?"

"Maybe if we raised an army," Ryker mused, "went to open warfare for trade purposes…"

"That's what Drago tried and look where that got him. And where would you get an army from? William of England's got his own rebellions to deal with, it's the same in Flanders, France hardly has any strength these days, and I happen to know the King of Denmark is friends with the Dragon King and has his own dragons for bodyguards."

Ryker starred into the fire for a while. "My brother will know what to do." He said at last. "He told me our luck would change if we got a hold of the Dragon Eye. We can still do it."

"Who stole the Eye, anyhow?"

"From what I've heard, the Defenders think it was the Dragon King. It might be true. I don't know." He snapped his fingers. "But if it's true, maybe we can find a way to make him give it to us! Maybe our spy can get it from him. We'll hold somebody hostage or something!"

"He'll be expecting that. From what I've heard, Drago had him captured twice and both times he escaped and destroyed a good chunk of where he was imprisoned."

"Every man has his price," Ryker went on, "we just need to offer him what he wants…"

"We all know what he wants: the dragon hunting business ruined. And he's doing a pretty good job of achieving this."

"So what's his weakness? Every man has a weakness. If we could exploit it…"

"His weakness is the fact that he cares about dragons—we were already exploiting that and as a result he's ruined our livelihood!"

"How about a woman? Our spy in the Defender's camp is pretty attractive—or we could hire some prostitute—if we had some lovely girl pose as a shipwrecked maiden, maybe she could seduce him and—"

"Do you really think he's going to fall for that? Especially when our sources have it he's already in love with someone else?"

"Then if we captured her—"

"We tried to three months ago, remember? Didn't you hear about that? The men were found with black eyes, burns, broken noses, and teeth missing—and tied to tree branches 4 meters up! By the sound of it, you'd need an army just to capture her!"

"You're quite the pessimist, aren't you?" Ryker growled.

"I'm telling you the truth as I see it. I think Dragon Hunting is over in these parts. Maybe we should all just find a new occupation. That's the only solution I can think of. I mean we could head south and try somewhere else, but there's no guarantee we'll have any better luck." Although officially the majority of Europe was Christian and proclaimed dragons as evil, unofficially small towns and villages were a mixture of Christian beliefs mixed with pagan beliefs, and they hated or worshiped dragons according to preference and tradition. As for the rest of the known world, most places seemed to worship dragons or at the very least tolerate them, which was bad news for any dragon hunter.

"Viggo will think of something," Ryker repeated.

"Ryker, Drago went up against the King and got slaughtered! And he's gotten a lot stronger since then! More dragons, more allies—"

"Viggo is much smarter than Drago. Without Viggo Drago wouldn't have had a chance in the first place! Who got Drago's fancy iron ship built undetected? It was Viggo's doing! Built a massive iron ship and nobody knew about it until the last minute!"

"You mean the ship the King destroyed the first time it was used in battle?"

"That wasn't Viggo's fault! Look, Eret, I know we've fallen on some hard times, but my brother will get us through them. He always has. All we need is the Dragon Eye. So how are we going to get it?"

"I'm sure Viggo can figure out a way," Eret replied dryly.

"Good point. Let him worry about the planning. We'll just follow his instructions."

"And hope nobody messes up this time? That reminds me, somebody still has to tell him the news."

Ryker suddenly looked nervous. He looked as though he was the one who needed reassuring now instead of Eret.

There was a knock on the door. A woman entered, followed by a man. "My master wants to see you, Ryker,"

"I told you to address me with the respect I deserve, you wench!" Ryker growled but she had already left. "Why does Viggo put up with these insubordinate servants?"

"He likes breaking them in," Eret replied, "rather like Drago."

The man who had entered was the same height as Ryker, though considerably leaner, and had a pale face and black hair. Ryker looked at him and said "Are ya ill or something, Draccus?"

"I'm just fine, Ryker. Our brother wants to see you, you know. Best not keep him waiting,"

Ryker drew himself up made for the door, but then abruptly turned around. "Do either of you have any good news I could give him to soften the blow?" he asked anxiously.

"Not at all,"

Ryker visibly paled before he left the room.

"So, bad news for Viggo," Draccus said carefully, "another failure. Pity. A great pity indeed. Perhaps his leadership is not as great as he makes it out to be."

"What are you implying?" Eret asked sharply.

"Just that sometimes men are unequal to the crisis before them,"

"Could you do any better?" Eret retorted.

"Perhaps. I've heard you're dissatisfied with things, Eret. So am I. I am very dissatisfied with the way things are. Perhaps we could—" But Eret left the room before he could say anything else.

"No matter," Draccus said quietly, "he's just being cautious. He'll come over in time, once Viggo fails again. I pray to Loki he does just that." He shook his head. "My poor first brother believes that my poor second brother is our only hope for salvation. Hmph. And what room is there for the third brother? Hopefully there will be plenty soon! Perhaps this Dragon King can help me out a bit."