7 Practising swordfighting

7. PRACTISING SWORDFIGHTING AND SNIFFING FOR TREASURE In Hiccup's opinion, everything went wrong from the moment Alvin the Poor-But-Honest-Farmer was let out of the coffin. It wasn't Alvin's fault, of course. He was a most entertaining and enjoyable companion. He made the women blush by praising their muscles and their fat yellow plaits. He made the men laugh with hilarious farty jokes and impressions of Mogadon the Meathead. He made the children adore him by telling stories of the trickeries and battles of long-dead Heroes. Hiccup liked him, too. Alvin came across Hiccup one day, practising his swordfighting for the second depressing hour in a row. Hiccup was trying to do the 'Grimbeard's Grapple', and failing miserably every time. Stoick had given him a new sword to replace the Scaremaker, an impressively large and heavy one called a Stretchapoint. 'Got a lot of LENGTH to it, my boy,' Stoick had

said. 'It'll make up for your shortness of arm. Give you a better reach.' But Hiccup had difficulty keeping it steady, and when he got to the lunge at the end he tended to fall over. He had just got up and wearily picked up the Stretchapoint for another go, when Alvin the Poor-But-Honest-Farmer suddenly appeared right behind him and said, 'Hiccup, isn't it?' Hiccup was so startled he nearly fell over again. He hadn't realised he was being watched. 'You're the Heir to Stoick the Vast, aren't you?' smiled Alvin. Hiccup sighed. 'Well, I hope so,' he said. 'That's the general idea, anyway. But unless I get better at this swordfighting, I'm never going to be anybody's Heir.

I'm HOPELESS at it.' 'No, no,' said Alvin reassuringly, 'you've got natural ability, I can see that. You just need a little coaching, that's all. Let me show you.' Alvin carefully put his helmet by the side of the ferns for safekeeping. Hiccup watched, fascinated, as he untwisted the claw attached to his right arm. In its place he fixed a 'sword-holder' mechanism. He then drew his sword and showed Hiccup how he could fit it into the mechanism. He twisted it tight so it wouldn't fall off. 'A clever little contraption I designed myself,' said Alvin. 'I think I fight even better now than I did before the accident…' He twirled his moustache and demonstrated the Grapple himself. 'You see,' said Alvin, 'the weight should be kept on the left foot.' Hiccup followed him carefully… and fell over again. 'BRAVO!' clapped Alvin, to Hiccup's surprise. 'But I fell over again,' said Hiccup. 'But with such STYLE,' said Alvin. 'You can't teach that, it's in the blood.' Alvin replaced the sword with the claw and

picked up his helmet. He made a grimace as he put it back on his head. He took it off again and peered inside. 'There seems to be some sort of MUD in here, some sort of very SMELLY mud…' 'It's all over your hair, I'm afraid, sir,' said Hiccup. Alvin looked horrified. He was very particular about his personal appearance. He hurried away to wash it off.

Toothless, who had been hunting rats through the ferns, came and perched on Hiccup's shoulder. He had the giggles. Eventually, when he got his breath back, he choked out, 'P-p-pooed in his helmet…' 'TOOTHLESS!' scolded Hiccup. 'That's revolting and unkind. Why did you poo in poor Alvin's helmet?' 'H-h-he's a BAD MAN,' replied Toothless. 'Who, Alvin the Poor-But-Honest-Farmer?' asked Hiccup in surprise. 'Don't be so prejudiced, Toothless, just because he's not from round these parts doesn't make him a bad man…' 'S-s-suit yourself,' shrugged Toothless, checking out his wings for dragonfleas. 'Toothless thinks he's an O-O-Outcast.' Hiccup started nervously. Outcasts were Vikings who were so vicious, so terrible and sneaking and burglarous, that they had been cast out of regular Viking society, and had formed an extraordinarily ferocious Tribe of their own. It was even rumoured that some Outcasts ate their enemies. 'Oh, come ON,' protested Hiccup. 'He doesn't

look anything LIKE an Outcast.' 'Y-y-you ever seen one?' asked Toothless. 'Well, no,' admitted Hiccup, 'but neither have you, and you haven't a shred of evidence. Let's go and get some lunch and forget this rubbish.' That conversation sowed a little seed of doubt in Hiccup's mind. He was already feeling uneasy because he knew that he and all the other boys were going to have to join in this suicidal quest to the Isle of the Skullions, which would set out just as soon as Stoick and Alvin had worked out a Plan to avoid the Tiny Problem of everybody being eaten alive the moment they landed on the island. And he knew that he, Hiccup, as the Heir to