Peter Mercier and the Hunters of Artemis

Chapter 8

"What are they telling us?" Peter asked, straining at the flickering lights in the distance. It was nearly dark, the island they were fast approaching a foreboding sight amongst the vast blue-ish green ocean, standing out poignantly almost the lapping water. He stood from the deck, having taken a nap while the sun settled behind the sea. "Couldn't they just send out a ship like normal people?"

"They're probably not the most normal people, Peter," Hiccup reasoned, standing next to Amber and watching the sight. He'd not allowed the chest of gold out of his sight, it was still safely tucked under his right arm. Amber nodded in agreement, a few crewmen next to her, leaned against the railing as well. "And if they'd sent out a ship, it wouldn't be to tell us anything politely," she assured.

Eret pushed his way from the cabin through the small crowd gathered around the railing. He squinted his eyes, seeing the lights quickly shuffle around. "Rocks," he shouted, and Hiccup's eyes widened. "They're signaling there are rocks ahead. Hard to starboard!"

A crewman frantically ran to the rudder close by, heaving it around. The boat slowly obeyed. "Shall they get away from the sides in case we hit something?" he shouted. Eret nodded, and everyone moved back. They waited for a moment, the air tense and stale as the ship chugged along. But nothing was hit, thankfully.

Unfortunately, their worries weren't quite over.

"Pull into port! Everyone put your hands in the air and move slowly onto the deck! Don't nobody make a sudden move, unless you want a large hole in your small intestine!" slowly bellowed a gruff voice, a hundred or so yards away. The voice's owner was standing with a long spear on the deck, a disgusted look on his face. Eret huffed. "Shouldn't the chief be the first to board?" he grumbled. Hiccup shot him a cold look. "Fine," he stepped forward, handing him the chest. "Don't drop that."

"Come on," the chief told Peter. "You're coming to the front with me."

Peter looked unamused, but raised his hands and followed Hiccup to the portside of the boat as it slid into position. "Tear that sail off!" the man on the dock issued again, pointing the weapon at the canvas. The crewmen obeyed, cutting a few ropes and watching it fly uselessly into the air, casting a shadow on the deck as it fell onto the ocean. With the anchor shoved into the water, the guard beckoned Hiccup and Peter onto the deck, keeping his spear level with their necks. He was a bit shorter than Hiccup. "Why are you here? Who told you?"

He was dressed in a simple brown tunic with a layer of metal on the front, gleaming so Hiccup and Peter could see the small crowd chattering on the deck of the ship behind them in the reflection. His trousers were thick, small bits of yellow fabric evenly sewn into them to make an intricate swirling pattern. His green eyes were judgmental and piercing, his grey-brown hair flowing down to his chest. "Speak!"

"I did!" shouted Lillian, rushing across the ship. Her boots thundered as Amber ran after her, pushing through the crowd of crewmen. "I told them. They forced me."

The guard's eyes widened as she walked up beside him. He lowered the spear and went to hug her, but she cleared her throat and he stopped suddenly. Snapping too abruptly, he resumed his original position. "Is this true?" he asked, gripping the weapon with two hands.

"Forced is a pretty strong term," Peter muttered. The spear inched closer to his neck, and he flinched back, Hiccup pulling his arm before he could fall into the gap between the ship and the dock. "We're here to negotiate," the chief corrected, steadying the boy. "In exchange for her and some gold, not to follow them," he pointed to Peter, who was brushing off his sleeve. Amber raised her hand slightly. "Anymore."