A Fistful of Dragons

Part 14: Four Down

Fourteen: Four Down...

Ryder stayed away as Hookfang was muzzled and led out of the Berserker compound, trying not to watch the process where his friend was removed but he did note with some satisfaction when the dragon set fire to Snotlout's pants. There was no way during the day that he could visit the Night Fury-which he had ironically named Toothless-in case Dagur realised what he was doing...and besides, he needed to observe the Trappers.

It was probably the hardest task he could have set himself, for every time he saw Eret, he had to consciously remind himself that shooting him dead would only avenge his father and leave others unavenged or at risk. And every time he thought that, the faces of Astrid and the Night Fury warred in his memory. He could understand the dragon-because he had already bonded with Toothless, as he had with Red-but every time he thought of Astrid, he felt a tiny glow of warmth and he had to remind himself that this was for Heather and that he couldn't allow himself to feel anything for the blonde girl. But he found his heart jolted slightly whoever he saw her in the compound and his lips twitched in an unconscious smile when she flashed him a small smile when she passed him on the stairs.

For the Gods sake, get a grip! he reminded himself. If Dagur sees you, he won't hesitate to kill you... And he focussed on watching the trappers and especially Lars Forsberg, the last man from Heather's murder who wasn't already being dealt with. It was easy because Dagur's men didn't like the Trappers: the men were cocky, coarse and foul-mouthed, always bragging about their exploits and the souvenirs they had gathered in the course of their jobs. Eret had an especially fine knife decorated with Deathsong Amber and bound in a Deathsong hide sheath while Lars had a necklace made of Terrible Terror teeth. For a man such as Ryder who had farmed and wrangled dragons, he found the momentos offensive but he quietly watched the men as they helped break in the new Gronckles.

After a while, Eret walked cockily up to the stranger and loomed over him as he leaned calmly against the wall.

"Think you could do better, eh?" he scoffed. Ryder took a deep breath and shrugged.

"Interested in seeing how you guys do it," he forced himself to say. "Always instructive to see an expert at work..." Eret shot him a jaundiced look. He had caught the edge of sarcasm on his voice and had watched Ryder closely himself: he knew the man was more than he seemed. Lars opened a cage and a male Gronckle emerged. Eret backed away as Ryder watched the dragon buzz around, looking for a way out of the training yard, the mesh of chains forming the roof preventing escape. He liked Gronckles for they were generally gentle, biddable and friendly...unless treated poorly. There had been countless times where he wondered what had become of his trio...especially Elmo, who had been very affectionate. Watching Eret wrestle the dragon down and kick it hard as he fastened the chains around its back paws, he turned away, realising how the poor beasts would have been treated. Shaking his head, he walked away...until he heard a loud voice.

"Thinks he knows better," Eret sneered. Ryder's fists clenched and his shoulders stiffened.

"Know different..." he ground out through his teeth. "Not everything has to be pain and fear. Dragons respond to trust."

"And they obey those they fear," Eret scoffed. "They respond to strength! These are stupid beasts. Some are a bit more cunning-but all they are...is animals!"

Ryder lowered his head and tilted his head slightly to peer at the bulky shape through the corner of his eye. "As you say," he muttered tonelessly. Red had saved his life. The Night Fury chose not to take his hand. Mindless? Hardly. But they seemed far more loyal and trustworthy than anyone within the Berserker compound.

"Bet you've never trained a wild dragon!" Eret challenged him. Ryder looked away.

"None of your business," he mouthed, starting to walked back towards the main house.