The Blacksmith's Apprentice

Twenty Three: New Friends

Twenty-Three: New Friends

Tiril Gunnarson crouched down behind the low thicket, her grey-blue eyes narrowing as Dogsbreath, Sven the Dim, Lars and especially Snotlout were crashing through the forest. If they found Hiccup and Toothless, they would ruin the young man and certainly have him killed. And though a small part of the girl blamed the blacksmith's apprentice for her cousins' disgrace, the rest of her knew that their own actions and especially Snotlout's treachery were to blame.

"It was all them, Uncle. I just wanted to shake him up and remind him who was the real Heir...but they wouldn't stop. Tuff kept hitting him and then they both stripped him. They led me away, laughing and I went with them. I never planned to kill him. The twins just thought it would be a laugh..."

Liar, she thought, her legs tensing. They trusted you and thought you were their friend. Then she erupted from the thicket and dashed across the path, making sure they caught a glimpse of her before she dived through the bracken, hearing them crashing along behind her. She giggled and carefully ducked through a gap between the trees that her cousins had shown her and waited until she heard the screams. There was a patch of brambles and a bee-hive that they had blundered into-the screams were a clue-and she sniggered as she heard them lumbering towards her. And then she ducked through and ran straight into Dogsbreath.

"Hello, Tiril," he growled. She struggled and then gave a broad smile.

"Hey, Dog-what're you doing here?" she asked cheerfully. Snotlout appeared, brambles sticking out to his hair and vest.

"Where's Hiccup?" the Heir growled, his face angry and Tiril managed a shrug.

"D'uh! Not my problem!" she snarked. "I'm looking for sting berries."

"As if we would believe..." Sven began but Snotlout narrowed his eyes.

"What for?" he demanded. The girl laughed at him.

"Ask the twins," she scorned him. "They'd know. Thorston secret!" Instantly, he snatched her braid and tugged her head back, leaning close so the bramble sticking off his helmet brushed her face.

"Imagine I am looking for Useless and find you instead," he breathed. "Think how frustrated I am..." She smirked.

"It makes a fantastic paste that can burn like a bee sting of you apply it to sensitive skin," she revealed, tugging her head free.

"And why aren't you watching to see what Useless is doing up here in the forest?" Snotlout demanded.

"Hey! You're not the boss of me!" she protested.

"I will be soon, Tiril-and you better remember it!" he menaced as he nodded and gestured to Dogsbreath to release her. "Show me where these berries are. I think we can have some fun feeding them to Useless..."

"Oh, you can't eat them," Tiril told him quickly. "They can be pretty poisonous..."

"Perfect," the Heir said. "And then no one could point at me and say I was to blame for Useless curling up and dying. Helheim-they may even blame Astrid's cooking! That would serve them both right..." The girl stumbled back, Yaklegs's words echoing around her head and a heavy, cold weight settling in her stomach.

No, I wouldn't want to live in a village with a Chief who would poison his own cousin and frame an innocent woman for his murder, she realised. It's no prank... But she grinned and beckoned to the larger, older teens. "This way!" she invited them and darted off in a specific direction.

"After her!" Snotlout yelled and they ran heedlessly after her as she allowed a small grin to lift her lips. She was light and lithe and they...weren't. This should be fun to watch...