How to Be a Pirate - Cowell Cressida (читать книги онлайн без txt) 📗
"Hmmmm?" replied Stoick absentmindedly.
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He was attempting to dry off his own dragon, Newtsbreath, in front of the fire.
Newtsbreath was an acne-covered sludge green Gronckle the size of a small lion. He loathed water. It had taken Stoick forty minutes to catch him and dump him in the tub. Now he made a furious lunge at Stoick, grabbing his left forearm between his massive jaws. Stoick laughed merrily and gave him a sharp whack on the nose with the scrubbing brush.
[Image: Men.]
"Now, now, Newtsbreath," chided Stoick, "don't be grumpy."
"I'm worried," continued Hiccup, "that we may be setting out on the wrong quest. Do you really think
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we should be looking for treasure? We're quite happy and peaceful enough without all that money."
Stoick ruffled Hiccup's hair affectionately.
"Don't you see," said Stoick excitedly, "YOU'RE going to be the one to find this treasure. That's what the riddle said, 'Only the True Heir can find it.' It has troubled me for some time that Baggybum and Snotlout might have their eyes on your throne. When YOU find the treasure, it will silence them forever. I'm doing this as much for YOU as for the gold and the glory, although I do see myself in a pair of fancy earrings, I must admit. ..."
"But what if I DON'T find the treasure?" asked Hiccup.
But Stoick wasn't listening. He had stomped off to get ready.
"Oh bother," said Hiccup.
[Image: Newtsbreath in the bath.]
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10. THE WORST DAY OF HICCUP'S LIFE SO FAR
At dawn on the day of the Quest, Hiccup got dressed very reluctantly indeed. He buckled on the sword his father had given him, hoping that it wouldn't get in the way too much. He slung a shovel in a sling I across his back, where he normally might have carried la bow and arrow. He was so nervous he couldn't eat his porridge.
He finally managed to drag Toothless out of bed and set off towards Hooligan Harbor, where everybody was meeting.
Toothless sat on his shoulder, angrily rubbing sleep out of his eyes with one wing.
"Toothless don't W-W-WABT to go on Quest,' he complained. "Is s-s-stupid. Is s-s-silly. Is d-d-dangerous."
Hiccup could not have agreed with him more, but all he said was, "You're going to be all right. YOU'VE got wings. Any Skullions attack you, and you just just fly away."
"Yes, but T-t-t-toothless don't like the sight of
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b-b-blood...," whined Toothless. "You get torn to pieces and Toothless feel s-s-sick...."
"We all have our problems," snapped Hiccup crossly.
Fishlegs was already at the Harbor, looking furious. His dragon, Horrorcow, sat at his feet, chewing quietly.
All the other boys were milling about, their dragons fighting each other or flapping over their heads. Everybody was thoroughly overexcited despite the very real prospect of being eaten alive.
[Image: Dragon armor.]
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"Who do you reckon would win if a Skullion was to fight a Bloody Crocoraptor in one-to-one combat?" chatted Wartihog.
"Oh, the Skullion would win EVERY TIME," replied Clueless. "No question. My father says the Skullion is one of the most vicious creatures on the planet. It'd just whip out that famous extra-long claw and swipe ... it'd be Goodnight Crocoraptor...."
[Image: Dragon glove.]
"Ah," said Wartihog craftily, "but what if the Skullion had one paw tied behind its back, who would win then?"
"Idiots," fumed Fishlegs. "Idiots!! I'm surrounded by people with seaweed for brains."
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Other than the boys, there were about fifty adult pirates in the Skullion landing party, all of Stoick's biggest and finest Warriors. Alvin was cracking jokes, giving out hearty handshakes and patting everybody on the back.
Stoick the Vast was delighted to be setting off on a military operation and marched about yelling orders.
"RIGHT, everybody. Once we've landed we split up into groups of two. We fan out across the island, and we get our dragons to sniff for the treasure. Notice you have all been supplied with a whistle -- Gobber, could you demonstrate?"
Gobber blew a sharp blast on the whistle.
"P-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-ep!"
"Once you hear that noise you will realize that somebody has found the treasure. Make your way towards the sound as quickly as possible so we can all help to carry it back to the ship. REMEMBER, the dragons will be sleeping during the day and it does not matter how much noise you make because the Skullion is stone-deaf. However, do try not to
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step on one and don't forget that their sense of smell is very acute indeed. So once you land on the island, THERE WILL BE ABSOLUTELY NO FARTING WHATSOEVER. Is that understood?"
The Warriors nodded solemnly.
"Righto, then," said Stoick. "Death or Glory."
[Image: A man.]
"DEATH OR GLORY!" yelled everybody.
And the Grimbeard's Treasure-Seeking Skullion Landing Party climbed aboard the good ship Lucky Thirteen to set sail for the Isle of the Skullions.
Dogsbreath the Duhbrain "accidentally" bumped into Hiccup as they climbed in and knocked him on to the floor of the boat, where Snotlout trod on him.
"Clumsy me," grinned Snotlout, swinging the Flashcut in a nonchalant fashion. "Good luck, Useless."
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Lucky Thirteen set off slowly from the harbor through an ominous thick fog hanging heavily over the whole of the Inner Isles. It was difficult to see more than six feet ahead.
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After three or four hours they caught sight of the Isle of the Skullions looming spookily through the mist. And Hiccup's immediate thoughts were, in no particular order, "Let's go home! Turn around! ABANDON SHIP!"
"Don't sweat," he told himself. "Skullions can smell sweat." But he could feel himself getting hotter and hotter with seasickness and fright as the island drew closer and closer....
In fact, even the bravest and most chatty of the Hooligans fell silent as they sailed deeper and deeper into waters their Tribe had been forbidden to enter for hundreds and hundreds of years.
For the Isle of the Skullions was a very sinister place.
The black cliffs in their odd pillar-like formations and the bloody bright-red earth seemed to whisper the word, "Death."
All around there were crazy towers of limpet shells stacked up in piles perilously high, like so many fantastic sculptures. Being unable to fly or swim, the Skullions were imprisoned on the island. They had long ago finished off any small mammals, reptiles or birds that had once lived there. For years they had had
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to exist on shellfish, the limpet in particular because it was so plentiful.
There was no sign of life anywhere. No rabbits, mice or other scuttly creatures running around the hillsides. No birds calling from the cliff tops. Nor were there any signs of the Skullions, either. There were, however, worryingly enormous holes dotted all over the landscape.
[Image: In the middle of the sea.]
"Those must be their burrows," thought Hiccup.
They were larger than any burrows Hiccup had ever seen before. Some of the holes were as big as the front door of the Great Hall.
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"They must be somewhere down there," thought Hiccup, swallowing hard.
Because there were no animals or birds, and no winds on such a calm day, there was an eerie silence.
Except, that is, for one terrifying sound.
Imagine the set-your-teeth-on-edge screech of chalk scratching on a blackboard multiplied hundreds of times over. It was the sort of noise you might get if you were sharpening a thousand knives on a thousand stones, but it was far more excruciating than that. It sent all of Hiccup's nerve endings wincing and jangling, even as he realized what the horrible rhythmic scritch-scratch was.
