The Imposter

Chapter 22

Chapter 22:

Thuggory Tete de Carne, Heir to the Meathead lands in Berk and would-be knight, was wondering if he could murder Snotlout and who, if anyone would care. They were hanging around the taverns of Bazerk, listening out for word of the Princess and Hiccup...and gaming. Despite Thuggery's concerns, Snotlout had no sense of urgency in locating Astrid and restoring his honour, preferring to eat, rest and do a little training rather than put the effort in to stand any chance of reclaiming his place as a squire. Spitelout had joined him from Reaper and was joining his son in enjoying himself, having almost given up on finding the Princess. And no one was watching the main road north.

He glanced around the tavern. Snotlout had three empty plates in front of him and was quaffing ale merrily with Dogsbreath and Halvard, Spitelout was out practising with his axe, the other squires were playing various games and no one but no one seemed even bothered that without the missing Astrid, they were wanted...or dead. With a huff of annoyance, he slammed his mug down and wiped his mouth, rising to his feet and stalking out.

"Someone can't take his mead!" came a raucous cry from one of the others and he shook his head as he emerged into the cold afternoon. It was close to dusk and guards on the town walls were preparing to bar the doors for the night-not that Berserkers feared attack, but there were thieves and outlaws who could cause problems for the less aggressive citizens. Absently, Thuggory kicked a beggar out of the way, not even pausing to stop and watch the blind man pitch into the muddy ground as he walked down towards the yard. The sky was washed with purple and orange as the guards paused in their winding of the portcullis down and a party cantered towards the doors, yelling for them to hold the gates. The squire glanced up-and then froze, automatically diving back into the shadows as the six horses slowed.

At the front was the unmistakeable shape of Princess Astrid, her golden braid gilded by the fading light and Thuggory stiffened as he saw the shape next to her. There was only one man that size with the full flaming beard: somehow, against all reason, Commander Haddock had returned. He scarcely registered the twins and Fishlegs as they swept by for his eye was drawn by the final member of the party: the skinny auburn-haired shape of Hiccup on the familiar black stallion that had been his horse before it was taken from him.

The party wheeled round and while the guards closed and barred the gates, a runner sped off towards the main castle as Astrid checked her party, leaning close to the Commander and then walking her horse along the main street after the runner. Casting one look at the retreating shapes, Thuggory put his head down and sprinted back towards the tavern.

Somehow, Astrid was back-and Hiccup was in the castle. Which meant they miraculously had a chance to silence him and save their skins...

oOo

Astrid had led her party into the Berserker throne room, feeling infinitely more relaxed than the previous time she had been here, even as the guards bowed low to the arriving Heir. At her shoulder stood the impressive shape of Commander Haddock, who was studiously ignoring the hostile glares from those who knew he was the man who had slain Dagur...though most did not connect the Berk Heir's knight and the famed anonymous arena champion. Lady Heather sitting bolt upright in the throne, clothed elegantly in a shimmering silver gown that was belted with emerald green silk. She wore a simple circlet on her jet hair that gleamed as she received the guests and she smiled as Astrid dropped a respectful curtsey to her. All Astrid's retinue dropped to one knee and remained still as Astrid rose, their heads bowed and left hands flat in the floor.

"Greetings, Princess Astrid," she said, trying to keep the smirk out of her voice. Astrid was also trying not to smile.

"Thank you, Lady Heather," she said and then the two burst into laughter, surging forward and hugging like old friends.