Riders of B E R K

Part 72: Casualties of War

Seventy Two: Casualties of War

"Zdrastvooyte...Hiccup," Ryker Grimborn said.

We stared at the man, the guns of the Russian sailors-who I was pretty certain weren't proper Russian sailors-levelled at us as Hiccup stirred.

"Zdrastvooyte...Ryker," he said calmly. "Wow, I keep expecting Viggo to pop out from behind a boulder. I'm shocked Drago let you out without your brother on hand to do the thinking!" The big man lurched forward and grabbed Hiccup by the throat as Toothless's growl got louder.

"Calm your beast or I'll have it killed," Ryker sneered.

"I'd check with your Boss first," Hiccup choked. "He wants Toothless himself as a tactical weapon-or are you too low down the food chain to be told the plans?" Ryker released him and then punched him. He went down.

"You'll change your tune when I continue that little chat we were having," the Dragon Hunter snapped. Breathing hard, Hiccup stared up at him as he painfully levered himself to his feet.

"So I assume you've left the eggs as bait?" he asked directly. Ryker chuckled.

"My brother assumed your dragons would know if they had been taken so they had to be left...and when our sub arrives, we can take the dragons, the eggs-and you..."

"Me? Why me?" Hiccup asked in surprise. Ryker looked pityingly at him.

"My brother will have another chat with you-but Drago demands you alive and hale so he can do what he will with you," he explained. "He thinks you have interfered enough!" Hiccup rested his hand on Toothless's head.

"Believe me, I have barely got started," he said and the looked firmly into Ryker's eyes. "Where are the real crew, Ryker?" The man smirked.

"Feeding the fishes-apart from a couple who made the smart career move," he said, gesturing to the men with guns. "Now start walking, Hiccup-unless you want us to shoot your little friends?" Glancing at the other Riders, who all looked fit to fight, he nodded.

"It's okay, guys-we'll go quietly," he said, obviously praying that they would pick up on his cues and after a few very imaginative gestures, the team all raised their hands in surrender. But Tuff had to have the last word.

"Not cool, H-not cool at all," he said disappointedly. The Sergeant was even more blunt.

"We surrender," Snotlout said. "And let me just say, Commander-this is the worst plan ever!"

oOo

The Riders were forced to march up the hill with their muzzled dragons, the machine guns of the sailors levelled expertly at the grumbling soldiers. Snotlout was rolling his eyes in exasperation at Ruff and Tuff, who were arguing over who would get shot first and how awesome it would be to get shot. Fishlegs was looking anxiously and Eret was hanging onto Gustav's arm to stop the youngest Rider trying to make a break for it, seeing that the scree slope would hopelessly bog them down. They had all spent some time studying the images from Hiccup and Astrid's helmet cams and knew the layout of the cave extremely well. Snotlout was hoping it would give them an edge.

When they reached the cave, the sailors levelled their Kalashnikovs at them while their dragons were held to one side, covered by guns with armour-piercing rounds and the First Mate ordered the unwilling and rebellious workforce to put the eggs in their nets in very broken English. Muttering darkly, the Riders began to collect the first few eggs. Bucket and Mulch were gently and reverently placing the eggs in the nets while Fishlegs was surreptitiously photographing each type of egg as he encountered it and was running a sort of tally of the types of eggs in the drift. Every so often, he would emit a 'hmm' or an 'ooh' or even a squeak of excitement. The sailors cast him various curious glances but as he seemed to be complying and they were under strict orders to keep the riders alive, they contented themselves by swearing at him in Russian.