The Blacksmith's Apprentice

Fifteen: The Worst Kind of Treason

Fifteen: The worst kind of treason.

Quietly, Astrid followed him, her stealth capabilities far better than his. She knew he was hiding something from her-and she knew he was really unhappy at the choice he felt he had to make, though it was clear it was the only one he felt he had. But he was moving confidently enough, up the path and into the forest, walking confidently through the trees and over the low rise into the deep forest, where the trees were close and fir branches meshed sometimes, making an almost impenetrable barrier. Astrid preferred the eastern side of the woods, for they were more open and good for training but this was unfamiliar territory to her. Yet Hiccup was quick and confident and had clearly been this way many times before.

And then he vanished. She frowned: she hadn't taken her eye off him for more than a couple of seconds to duck under a broken branch and he had vanished. He wasn't up ahead and she knew she hadn't made any noise, so it couldn't be because he was hiding. She frowned and retraced her steps...then retraced his. He was light on his feet but she found his trail and then she saw it-nothing more than a small crack between two rocks that a very skinny young man-or slender and lithe young woman-could get through. So she cautiously inched forward, glancing up at the smooth, greyish rocks and the sliver of light opening before her-to reveal a cove, a lovely sunken little valley with rocky walls, tree roots growing down and a small lake. There were some more rocks, a few shrubs, one stubborn tree and beside the lake was the tall, lean shape of Hiccup-standing beside a black dragon.

Astrid almost gasped but slapped her hand over her mouth and pressed her body against the rock, her grip on her axe tightening painfully. She prayed it hadn't seen her and wondered what was going on...until she heard Hiccup's words, echoing up faint but clear from below. And then the bottom fell out of her stomach and she felt utterly and completely betrayed.

"Hey, bud," the auburn-haired viking said gently, reaching a hand out to caress the blunt, rounded muzzle, so much smoother and more streamlined than any other dragon she had seen. The dragon was black with wide, bat-like wings, a sleek aerodynamic body and four sturdy legs with a long sinuous tail with stabilising fins. And then it clicked: it was a Night Fury. Hiccup had actually done it. Then she shook herself: of course he had done it. She of all people shouldn't underestimate her friend's capabilities. His fire-control system was all over the village already and he was an excellent smith...her azure gaze trailed to the grimy bandage on his left hand. Well, he had been, until Snotlout and the twins had taken that from him, hopefully only temporarily. She blinked: the dragon was nuzzling his hand, his big round green eyes filled with wide black pupils, making the dragon look cute and puppyish. He seemed to have ears which pricked in response to the creature's mood and he wasn't trying to kill Hiccup.

What?

"Yeah, I know," Hiccup continued, drawing a fish from his battered satchel and handing it to the dragon. Its face looked pleased and the creature consumed the fish in two hungry bites. "Sorry it's not more but they don't really give me any food and I can't claim any because they would take that from Astrid's ration and she doesn't deserve to be mixed up in any of this." His voice sounded defeated. "I think she knows something's up. I mean, of course she knows! She's Astrid! But if I tell her about this...Gods, she'll hate me first...and that would kill me on its own, bud, because I really love her, though I can't tell her that either." Her eyes widened. "I mean, how do you tell someone that great, that wonderful that you love them with all your heart? Especially when you're the most despised, most hated and ostracised person on the island? Even Mildew is more popular than me! Probably even my loving her is some sort of crime!" And then he sagged. "And knowing you is definitely a crime."

The dragon gave a small warble and sat on its hind legs, towering over the young man. Hiccup sighed and pulled his satchel off with a wince.

"Show me," he murmured and the dragon crooned, flicking its tail round and showing a device with a couple of metal rods attached to its tail fin. There was what looked like stitching in the black membrane and Astrid realised with disgust that he had been treating the creature, trying to heal its wounds rather than plunging his sword into its heart, as any right-thinking Viking would and should have done. She inched closer as he crouched down and sighed.