Chapter Four

No Home Yet

"In the nightmare of the dark

All the dogs of Europe bark,

And the living nations wait,

Each sequestered in its hate."

-W.H. Auden, "In Memory of W.B. Yeats."

"Sooner or later, the day comes when you must answer for the things you've done. And that glorious day is coming soon," Vigdís said, glaring at Hiccup.

"So what you're going to hold me and Astrid responsible for defending ourselves?"

"For murder!" Vigdis snarled. "And who said anything about holding Astrid responsible?" She said in a casual tone. "You're her commander, you're responsible. However," and her gaze turned on Astrid as she reached behind her back. Hiccup's blood turned cold and his stomach turned to lead when Vigdís drew an axe she must have had hanging there. "Since you are responsible, I see no reason not to start my vengeance now." She nodded and the guard behind Astrid drove a booted foot into her knee, causing her to crumple to the floor before he grabbed a fistful of Astrid's hair and yanked her head back to expose her neck.

"No!" Hiccup shouted. "Please," he said, too terrified to bother to hide his distress. "Your quarrel is with me then deal with me. Let her go and I'll come quietly. You can do what you want to me. Just…let Astrid go," he said softy, pleadingly, finding himself fighting back tears. "Please." His eyes darted to Astrid. Astrid sat there on her knees, fighting to present the look of someone facing death with dignity

Vigdís' stony face was unmoved. "It's too late, Hiccup," she growled. "Five years too late."

Without another word, Vigdís turned and raised her axe.

Astrid closed her eyes instinctively against the axe head slashing towards her neck. She was not going to go out like a coward. No amount of pretending could mask the sheer terror boiling inside her though. And it wasn't just at the prospect of dying with an axe buried in her neck either. It was the prospect of, even for a little while, having to go to Valhalla without Hiccup. No amount of glorious battle or pig-like feasting afterwards would help if the man she loved wasn't sharing it all with her.

She heard a whooshing sound and her head fell forward…and stopped, still being held up by the muscles of her neck.

Surprised, she threw her eyes open, to see Vigdís' axe at her side as she looked behind her with a shocked look on her face. She twisted her head around just enough to see the guard who'd hit her in the knees crumpled to the ground dead, with an arrow sticking out of his right eye.

"We're under attack!" a voice outside shrieked. "To arms! To arms!"

She heard Vigdís swear viciously and charged out of the tent, taking most of the guards with her.

"What?" Astrid couldn't help but think out loud, "Not leaving guards to keep us from escaping."

"She's probably thinking we're just two unarmed bound prisoners," Hiccup said, his voice dripping with his usual snark. "We couldn't possibly get very far if we escaped."

Astrid stumbled to her feet and started pawing at the dead guard's sword with her foot, trying to ease it out of its scabbard. "If I can just get this out on its side we can use it to cut the bindings off."

"Good idea," Hiccup said, "I'll spot for you, so you don't accidentally open your wrists."

"That would put a damper on things," Astrid remarked deadpan. She managed the bottom quarter of the sword just out enough to expose some of the edge. Astrid lowered herself down gently and began to grind her bindings up and down against the sword.

"That's it," Hiccup began to say after a few moments, "that's it Astrid, you're almost out and…stop!" Astrid stopped and pulled her hands apart, the last bits of rope coming free easily, she stood up, grabbed the sword and cut Hiccup's bindings in an instant.

The moment his hands were free, Hiccup grabbed her and pulled her into a bruising kiss. She wanted to remind him that they had to get to their dragons and get out of here but she stopped when she remembered that Hiccup almost watched her die just five minutes ago. Her own fear in that moment returned and she just stood there, leaning into his kiss.

Hiccup broke the kiss. "Now let's go get our dragons."

The second Astrid pulled the flaps aside she saw the dragons still in their wagons. Penned and muzzled, the two of them struggled frantically against their restraints, reacting to the sounds of nearby battle. She looked around her, thick black smoke rose around them in a ring from the edge of the camp, no more than a couple hours ago. The sounds of battle were getting closer, the sounds of steel against steel and men and women shouting and killing grew louder in her ears. While she couldn't be sure of the exact ebb and flow of the engagement, her trained, practiced ear could tell it was getting closer.

"Let's get our dragons and get out of here," Hiccup said quickly as he moved to pull Toothless' muzzle off.

Astrid shook herself and reached out, yanking off Stormfly's. Astrid received a cold, scaly, affectionate nuzzle for her troubles.

She couldn't help it, she broke out into a wide smile. "It's good to see you too, old girl," Astrid said softly, rubbing her neck. "Now let's get you out of here," she said as she reached for one of the wooden braces around her neck. After a few moments, she had Stormfly free and was guiding her out of the wagon.

"Here," Hiccup said as she looked up in time for her intended to shove her field pack into her hands before hastily throwing his on and buckling Inferno around his waist.

"It's a little odd, isn't it?" Astrid couldn't help but remark as she swung her long legs over Stormfly's back. "All our supplies just waiting for us?"

"Not really," Hiccup said as she finished buckling on Toothless' saddle and climbed onto his back. "They'd use the supplies too. Their plan was to murder one or both of us right then, after which we'd have no use for any of our supplies or dragons."

Astrid nodded perfunctorily, as she was looking not at Hiccup and Toothless but as Vigdís' triumphant face as she raised her axe. Astrid herself had killed in battle many times, so had Hiccup. Against people like Dagur and Drago. But never had she actually really seen the look of, perhaps not joy, but satisfaction. She realized that she truly believed Hiccup and her deserved to die, she wasn't a lunatic like Dagur, long on ambition, short on impulse control, nor was she using "justice" and "security" as a paper-thin cloak for vain ambition like Drago (who was also short on impulse control now that she thought about it).

No, Vigdís, had truly believed she was about to get justice for her brother.

And apart from a need for that, she had seemed almost frightfully in control of herself. That was what got to her. This wasn't someone who was going to lose herself to some quirk, making them easy to outmaneuver and drive off.

This was a far more dangerous enemy. Assuming she managed to drive off her attackers.

"Let's get out of here," Hiccup said quietly.

The two dragons and their riders took off, circling about as they attempted to get a look at the forces attacking the Berserkers. The attackers had managed to break through the outer circle of camps, and the fighting was raging back and forth in the inner perimeter. Both sides, he noticed, were clearly distinct. The Berserkers wore the traditional full plate armor typically worn by Berserkers. Their attackers, presumably the locals, were distinguished because they wore long yellow shirts. The overwhelming majority of them wore lighter, leather armor over their shirts, but the occasional few, almost certainly their commanders, wore chainmail or plate.

"Must be the Albans," Astrid said, "Should we help them? Most of them are lightly armored, every single Berserker down there is fitted out as heavy infantry, they have the numbers advantage now, but in a standup fight like this they're going to get slaughtered." As was being proven right before her eyes. The locals battle line was already starting to waver as more and more of their fellows got cut down. They were obviously skilled swordsmen, and skill and the ability to read an opponent usually counted more than raw physical strength, the Berserkers still had heavier armor and broader shields, and hence the staying power to offset skill. The best swordsmen in the world still had to be actually get attacks through.
Hiccup sighed. "I know. But we need to get back to Berk. We'll rake the Berserker lines as we're leaving, probably save a few more of them, but we're leaving."

Astrid sighed. She hated leaving potential allies in the lurch, but Hiccup was right, Berk needed her chief and her second-in-command. Plus, if they stayed to provide complete air cover, they risked her having another convulsion and falling off her dragon.

"All right," Hiccup said, nodding. "We'll make one close attack run over the center of the camp, concentrating our fire on the troops and the supply buildings. I'll go out ahead and you'll hang back on my port aft, taking out anything you can."

"Right," Astrid said, the tactic suited Astrid right down to the ground. Her spine shots, even in the thirty seconds the entire run would take from start to finish would cut through even Berserker armor like it wasn't even there and her fire, with the ability to melt molten rock in seconds would lead to a lot of destroyed supplies and cooked Berserkers in that time.

She sighed, Tyr, she prayed mentally, God of war, grant that our shots be true and our wings swift. That we are the bane of our foes and the woes of the treacherous. Abruptly the thought of another convulsion wracking her, sending her falling into that battle below and killing her before she had a chance to kill her enemies. And, even worse, leaving Hiccup to face the rest of his life alone.

And should the worst come to pass, grant me forgiveness.

"Let's get them, girl!" Astrid shouted, following in the wake of Hiccup's dive towards the enemy. Astrid pressed against Stormfly's sides in such and such a way, and a volley of spines shredded a squad of Berserkers headed to reinforce the battle line, ignoring their heavy plate armor as though they were sackcloth. Another volley repeated the performance, and another. Ahead of her, violet flares in the corner of her vision as Toothless's plasma blasts rang out again and again.

"All right, girl," she said viciously. "Let's give the enemy some fire of our own. Fire, full heat, port and starboard, now!" Stormfly bobbed a nod, before spewing yellow-hot orange fire and sweeping it over every tent. In front of them, Toothless began to pull up towards the open sky, Astrid followed in Toothless's wake, praying to Gefion, goddess of luck, that she didn't have another convulsion in the time it took to get clear. She was also patron deity of virginity, something that Astrid had handed over to Hiccup on her sixteenth birthday. She had to hope that she wasn't too miffed by that.

She clearly wasn't, or at least had decided she wasn't going to get back at her this time, her body remained under her own command as she leveled out her flight plan and the four of them flew north towards the coast.

It was when the sandy beaches and clear ocean water were ahead that the two of them landed on the beach. Struck by this change, Astrid followed him down, watching as he dismounted Toothless and collapsed to his knees on the beach. Eyes widening, sudden terror flowing through her as her mind began racing. Was Hiccup hurt? Did an arrow manage to get him and he just didn't notice until the rush of battle wore off? Scared beyond measure, she dove towards the deck and scrambled off Stormfly's back towards him. She didn't get too feet before her stomach muscles felt like they were twisting in two different directions. She collapsed on the ground, grunting and hissing as her muscles raged and fire filled her veins. In an instant, through the pain, she felt the sensation of arms wrapping themselves around her.

Hiccup, she thought through the burning pain that filled his veins. After what felt like forever, the fire and pain began to recede and she lay there, enfolded in Hiccup's arms.

"So now what do we do?" Astrid asked, as the two lovers stared out north over the broad expanse of blue ocean towards home. Towards Berk.

"It appears we've reached an impasse," Hiccup said softly. "It's too dangerous to either go home or stay here."

"If only we could get some sort of message home, but we don't have a way of-," she said looking at Stormfly. Then it hit her. All at once. "How stupid are we?"

Hiccup, who, if anything was more embarrassed as the supposed smart one of the duo, looked at Stormfly and caught her brainwave, and grunted. "Pretty stupid," Hiccup said, before beckoning for Stormfly. "Come here."

Heather sighed as she leaned back in her chair in her office at the Dragon Academy. Unlike her friend Astrid, Heather's workload had never been particularly, from a certain point of view, excessive. She had her share of paperwork, but it mostly took the form of "after-action" reports, both from her research duties as an alchemist and her occasional field mission on her Monstrous Nightmare. Barring the thankfully rare crises, once she submitted her reports to the long-suffering Astrid, she could actually leave before it got too late in the evening most days.

I wonder how the exploration mission to Albion is shaping up, she thought, eager for the firsthand information that her friends were gathering. She had initially disapproved of their various exploration plans, claiming that they should be focused on defending Berk, and since she and her parents were Hooligans now thanks to the Berserkers it had caused no small amount of discord between them.

Thankfully, she'd mellowed out since then.

Her musings were interrupted with the loud thump of a dragon making a hard landing on the ground outside. An instant later she heard the desperate sound of clawing on wood interspersed with a desperate trebling warble. She cocked her head to the side as her brain raced to identify the odd sound. Her eyes widened. Stormfly!

She raced out of her seat and ran for the door, opening it to see a scroll tied to one of her horns. She tore the horn off and unraveled it quickly. On it was a message, hastily scribbled in Hiccup's handwriting.

Heather

Astrid poisoned by confirmed Berserker operative on Berk. Portions of Kingdom of Alba are in fact under Berserker control. On my authority, alert all combat-capable dragon riders but take no further overt action. All of this can be taken as a routine patrolling and drilling. But find that spy. Trust Gobber. Trust my mother. Trust my friends. No one else. Any sort of offensive or rescue operation must be postponed until the enemy spy is caught.

Delivered under my hand and my seal

Hiccup, Jarl of Berk.