Captain Fury: Pirate of Berk

40: The Dragon Boy

The Dragon Boy.

The roar reverberated through the Temple once more and the three watchers hunkered down even more urgently. The Skrill was casting around, disorientated from its long sleep and clearly very annoyed that it wasn't where it had last been.

"Um, Fish...what do we know about Skrills?" Arild asked urgently. "I-I didn't get that far in the Book..." The First Mate grabbed the Book of Dragons from his satchel and urgently flipped through the pages, tacitly admitting he hadn't either. His eyes narrowed.

"Strike Class, very rare, symbol of the Berserker Tribe...able to draw electricity into its body and fire bolts of lightning..."

"WHAT?" Sven gaped, peering over Fishlegs's shoulder. "No one said anything about lightning..."

"Until now..." The First Mate replied. "Look...no one was expecting it to wake up, to be honest...but we need to make use of it..." Arild peeked out from behind the weapon, his big green eyes wide with worry. He knew he had touched it and so, by implication, this was probably his fault. And he was horribly aware that the creature seemed to be looking for something. Behind him, Sven finished his task and winked. Then suddenly, a fire broke out in the Temple behind the crouching men.

"FIRE!" Sven yelled. "The dragon has set the Temple on fire!" There was a pause and the priests ran in, ready to attack the man for such blasphemy...until they saw the awake and very angry Skrill glaring at them.

"Odin be praised! It's true!" the first one shouted, his grey robes flapping.

"Ring the bell!" the second ordered. "Alert the town! Berserk rejoice! Our day of supremacy is at hand!"

"Day of what?" Sven asked in shock. Fishlegs stared at Arild.

"What did you touch?" he asked the boy. Arild shrank back.

"Um...just the amber rock thingy," he admitted. Fishlegs opened his mouth to scold him but Arild got in first. "Hey! It was looking at me, okay? It kinda freaked me out..."

"Oh Gods, your father will kill me of this!" Fishlegs groaned.

"After he kills me," Arild corrected him gloomily. The Skrill roared again, sniffing. "And...um...why is it sniffing?"

"It's looking for something..." Sven guessed as the Priests began chanting and prostrating themselves before the angry and disorientated dragon. "Er...is that a good idea, Fish?"

"I would say not," Fishlegs admitted as the Skrill attacked the closest one. His screams filled the air and the others began to help him, whacking at the angry dragon with ceremonial staffs and brooms.

"Do you think they've even noticed the Temple is on fire, Fish?" Arild asked in a small voice. It was getting hot.

"Doubt it," the First Mate sighed. "Honestly, you come up with a perfectly serviceable plan...well, the Captain does...and no one has the decency to stick to it!"

"FIRE IN THE TEMPLE!" Sven tried again.

"Rescue the artefacts!" Fish added, nudging Arild and this time, the boy got his cue, grabbing a small ceremonial metal plaque as Fish and Sven grabbed the nearest 'statue'-the Thunderdrum cannon of Wrinkly the Wise. As the Priests continued their battle, the guards finally decided to hazard a look in...and saw the three 'pilgrims' rescuing artefacts. Seeing a good get-out activity, they ignored the struggling priests, grabbed a couple of statues and ran off themselves, to a volley on very un-priest-like language from the struggling devotands.

"Um...did that just happen?" Sven asked as they trotted round the temple and out of view of the town. He couldn't believe that they just got away with grabbing what they wanted and running for it.