11 The Bog-Burglar Heir

11. THE BOG-BURGLAR HEIR The Gronckle trotted into the room. It was a large, bare space with a table and a few chairs and some straw in the corner that served for beds. The windows were barred. The boys were clearly not going to have the same luxuries the Romans gave themselves. The Gronckle dropped Fishlegs and Hiccup on the floor and backed out of the room. 'Making yourselves at home,' sneered the First Kidnapper, and the door clanged shut. Standing in the middle of the room was a small girl with wild blonde hair and a ferocious expression. The girl drew her sword with a flourish. 'Who are you? What are your names?' she demanded fiercely. 'Who sent you? Where do you come from?' 'My name is Hiccup,' stammered Hiccup. 'And this is Fishlegs– we're Hooligans…' 'I don't believe you!' yelled the little girl. 'You're Roman spies! Draw your swords and FIGHT like men, you Latin low lives!' The boys looked at the furious little girl in amazement. Fishlegs began to laugh.

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He wasn't laughing two seconds later when the little girl cut the cord of his trousers and they fell down around his ankles. 'Hey!' objected Fishlegs, indignantly hauling them up again. 'Watch what you're doing with that sword!' In reply the little girl hoisted the sword over her head and ran towards Hiccup shouting the Bog- Burglar War Cry, which sounds like a very rude word shouted at the top of the lungs. Hiccup drew his sword just in time to parry her lunge, and they began to fight. Last year, Hiccup had found out that he was left-handed. Since then, he had discovered he had a gift for sword-fighting. It was the only thing on the Pirate Training Programme he was truly good at. He could beat even Oikish and Dogsbreath quite easily, and was having extra lessons with Gormless the Grim,

the best sword-fighter in the Hooligan Tribe. But this little girl was just as good at sword- fighting as Hiccup. Her arm moved so quickly you could hardly see it. She turned cartwheels between moves. And she TALKED constantly throughout, which made it difficult to concentrate. 'FIGHT, you nano-eating, locust-baking, toga- wearing, Jupiter-worshipper! Ooooh you're actually quite good at this– for a boy– I've been getting SO bored, you have no idea…' 'Can't we just have a quiet talk about this?' asked Hiccup breathlessly. 'There really is no need for us to be fighting…' But the little girl took absolutely no notice of him and carried on talking. 'I see you know the Grimbeard's Grapple, and the Flashcut Lunge, and the Deathwatch Parry, and the—'

'Will you STOP!' panted Hiccup, frantically parrying all of these moves, and getting his sleeve cut off in the process. 'My name really is Hiccup… I really am a Hooligan…' 'I don't believe you,' said the little girl. 'You're a Roman SPY! Admit it, or I will UNZIP you from your BREADBASKET to your OYSTERGOBBLER! Oooooooh your defence is a bit WEAK, you know, you should really work on that… otherwise, a person could just nip through– and…' She made a perfectly executed lunge which Hiccup parried at the last minute but which cut off his second sleeve. 'Whoops!' crowed the little girl joyfully. 'There goes the other one!' 'I– AM– NOT– A– ROMAN…' gasped Hiccup, his back against the wall. 'Well, a Hooligan isn't much better,' said the little girl, pausing for a second and then carrying on. 'My mother says the only good Hooligan is a dead Hooligan.' 'That's funny,' panted Hiccup, 'because my father says that the only good Bog-Burglar is a dead Bog-Burglar– and the really amusing thing is, unless we join together, in about two weeks' time, we are

both going to be VERY GOOD, and VERY DEAD.' 'Oh BOTHER,' sighed the girl, stopping at last. Now that she wasn't moving around so much, Hiccup could see that she really was quite a small girl, at least a head shorter than he was. 'I was really looking forward to spilling some blood.'