The Imposter

Chapter 4

Hiccup found that all his old skills were still there-rusty but present and as he sat in the saddle on Fury, he was able to do what was asked of him with relative ease. Fury had been ridden and used sporadically by the other squires when their mounts were injured or just tired so he was still in excellent shape and familiar with the manoeuvres the knights used most commonly so Hiccup simply listened to his horse and easily kept up with the rest. And of course, among the other things he probably shouldn't have been doing as a menial, he had visited the stallion pretty much daily to ensure the horse still responded to him, in the vague hope that one day he would get his chance...

The other squires and the knights were all sluggish and jaded, mostly hung over from a very heavy night in the barracks and for his part, the young imposter actually felt ashamed of them. And more so of the Hunters, most of whom didn't even make the departure. When the Princess accelerated, he had done as his father had taught him and matched his speed instantly to the Royal they were protecting-but Spitelout had bellowed a warning and Snotlout had dealt him a deeply unfriendly glare so he had recalled that he really shouldn't garner any attention and he had forced himself to hang back, failing the Princess and his duty. His life depended on being anonymous.

The party galloped after the Princess and Lord Eret, who was sticking very close to Astrid. Hiccup remained at the back, seeing the others share a few words as the party slowed to a gentle walk. A very husky shape with a surprisingly gentle and timid voice had turned to inspect his silent shape.

"You're very quiet, Thug," he said and Hiccup recognised the voice of Fishlegs. The guy had been reasonably friendly-well, until Hiccup had been abruptly expelled from the training cohort. Then he, as everyone else, had ignored his very existence. Hiccup shrugged, his face all but concealed by the helm. "Hung over?" He raised his gauntleted hand and made a so-so gesture.

"Hey, he was really hitting the mead last night!" another shape said and Hiccup winced inwardly. Tuffnut drifted his dappled gelding closer.

"Yeah! I'm shocked he's made it at all!" the unmistakeable voice of Ruffnut added. Though a female, it was impossible to separate the twins and short of making Tuff a lady-in-waiting, making a unique exception and adding Ruffnut to the squires was the only option. Her dappled gelding was the image of her twin's and she trotted alongside.

"Dog's already chucked his guts twice and Snot looks like he's about to die," Tuff added cheerily. "And he's only here because he wagered Thug wouldn't make it out of bed!"

If only you knew, Hiccup thought grimly, keeping his head down.

"Yeah-pay up Snottykins!" Ruff scoffed and headed forward to the stocky, black-haired man whose greenish face was testament to the fact he had lost the drinking contest the previous night.

"Yeah, no one likes a guy who ducks his wagers!" Tuff added loudly. Snotlout visibly winced and reluctantly dug into his pack, dragging out a small pouch of coins. Unable to help himself, Hiccup smirked: Snotlout had always been the first to demand his winnings and last to pay his gambling debts. But he had to keep in character so he wiped his smile, gripped the reins and trotted forward, extending his gauntletted left hand. He made a beckoning gesture and Snotlout very unwillingly handed it over.

"That's my horse," the stocky man pointed out snidely and Hiccup stiffened, his hand closing tightly around the coins.

"Ravager's lame," he growled roughly, disguising his voice as best he could. Snotlout scowled suspiciously. Something felt wrong-and not just the fact Thuggory had used Snotlout's own second horse to enable him to win the bet.

"You should've asked," Snotlout snapped so 'Thuggory' wheeled away to the back of the group, pointedly pulling his hood up and wrapping his cloak around him. "Huh-no one likes a smug winner," he muttered and went to ride by Dogsbreath, who leaned forward and vomited again. But he glanced over his shoulder at the swathed shape once more: Thuggory had drunk a lot more than Dog. There was no way he would have made the hunt.