19 Hiccup the Useful

19. HICCUP THE USEFUL The four hundred Vikings that were now gathered on the cliff tops broke into wild cheering for Hiccup and Toothless. They were a strange, barbaric sight, all covered in disgusting green Dragon Snot and Slime, but beaming and shouting with the wild delight of those that have just been saved from Certain Death. All around them, the terrible fight that had just taken place devastated the landscape. A choking green-grey smoke was hanging around making it difficult to see, but great chunks of Death's Head Headland appeared to have been torn out by the fight. Avalanches of rock were piled up on the beach. The terrible mountainous corpse of the Purple Death lay in the deeper water. Bits of the Green Death's insides and bones were scattered all over the place, while large sections of the heather and ferns were still in flames. However, by some extraordinary miracle, nearly all the Vikings and their dragons had survived the dreadful battle. I say 'nearly all' because, when Toothless crept

forward to lick the face of his Master with a flickering, forked tongue, Stoick noticed a ghastly wound on the little dragon's chest, which was pouring with bright green blood. The talon of the Green Death had pierced the very heart of the supposedly heartless little dragon. Toothless followed Stoick's gaze and looked down for the first time. He let out a squeal of terror and fainted dead away.

Two days later, Hiccup woke up, aching all over, and very, very hungry. It was late at night. He was lying in Stoick's own great bed. The room seemed to be crowded with a great deal of people. Stoick was there, and Valhallarama, and Old Wrinkly, and Fishlegs and most of the Elders of the Tribe. There were dragons there too: Newtsbreath and Hookfang snapping and biting around Stoick's legs, and Horrorcow perched on the end of Hiccup's bed. (The dragons had flown back as soon as they heard the explosion and realised the Masters of Berk were Masters once more. Being dragons, they had given no explanation for their disappearance, but they did have the grace to look a little sheepish.) 'He's alive!' shouted out Stoick in triumph, and everybody began to cheer. Valhallarama gave Hiccup a rousing punch on the shoulder, which is the Viking mother's equivalent of a really big hug. 'We're all here,' said Valhallarama, 'willing you to wake up.' Hiccup sat straight up in bed, suddenly very awake indeed. 'But you're not all here,' he said. 'Where's Toothless?' Everybody looked shifty, and nobody would look

at Hiccup. Stoick cleared his throat awkwardly. 'I'm sorry, son,' said Stoick. 'But he didn't make it. He died just a few hours ago. The rest of the Tribe are giving him a Hero's Funeral at this very moment. It's a great honour,' Stoick continued hurriedly. 'He'll be the first dragon ever to be given a proper Viking burial—' 'How did you know he was dead?' Hiccup demanded. Stoick looked surprised. 'Well, you know, the usual: no pulse, no breath, stone cold to the touch. He was quite clearly dead, I'm afraid.' 'Oh, HONESTLY, Father,' said Hiccup, in a frenzy of exasperation, 'don't you know ANYTHING about dragons? That could have been a SLEEP COMA, it's a GOOD SIGN, probably means he's healing himself.' 'Oh, Thor's whiskers,' said Fishlegs. 'They started that funeral half an hour ago…' 'We've got to stop them!' yelled Hiccup. 'Dragons are only fairly fireproof. They'll burn him alive!' Hiccup leapt out of bed with amazing energy, under the circumstances. He ran out of the room and

out of the house, followed closely by Fishlegs and Horrorcow. Down at Hooligan Harbour, the awesome ceremony of the Viking Military Funeral was nearly coming to an end. It was an incredible sight, if Hiccup had been in the mood for it. The sky was crammed with stars. The sea was glass-flat. The entire tribes of Hooligan and Meathead were gathered motionless on the rocks, and every single person was carrying a lighted torch in one hand. Even Snotlout was there, trying to look solemn, with his helmet off his head out of respect, and his hair neatly brushed. 'Good riddance to the newt with wings,' he was whispering slyly to Dogsbreath the Duhbrain, and Dogsbreath sniggered. 'Serve him right for breaking the Law,' sneered Fireworm to Seaslug, who was picking his nose on Dogsbreath's shoulder. A replica of a Viking ship had been put out to sea, and was drifting swiftly away from the island of Berk along the path of the moon's reflection, past the

weird shapes of Stoick and Mogadon's burnt-out fleet. Hiccup could just see the small body of Toothless laid out in the boat. Beside him lay Stoick's shield, the Dragon's Tooth still stuck in it like a gigantic alien sword. Gobber the Belch sounded a mournful signal on his horn. He was now completely recovered after his unexpected flight. 'P-P-PARP!!!' Twenty-six of Stoick's finest archers, standing to attention at the right of the Harbour, lifted their bows into the air. Every bow was loaded with an arrow in flame. 'N-N-NOOOO!!!' yelled Hiccup, with the best yell he had ever yelled. But it was too late. The flaming arrows soared gracefully through the air. They landed on the ship and set it alight. Some of the crowd on the shore had turned to look upwards, wondering who dared to disturb this most solemn ritual. 'HICCUP!' shouted Thuggory the Meathead, joyfully recognising the figure on the horizon. There