22 The Return of the Heroic Heirs

22. THE RETURN OF THE HEROIC HEIRS On the deck of The Blue Whale, Stoick the Vast waited to receive a visit from Chief Big-Boobied Bertha Bog-Burglar, who was about to come aboard. Stoick had decided on Plan B, send out the Rescue War Party, rather than Plan A, fight the Bog- Burglars, but Big-Boobied Bertha was making Plan B difficult to carry out by following the Hooligan Rescue War Party with the entire Bog-Burglar Navy the whole way from Berk. So Stoick had sent a Carrier Dragon with a (very polite) message to Big-Boobied Bertha suggesting that they talk things through. And now he was pacing up and down, trying to tell himself how Hiccup would act in this situation. 'I have to stay calm,' he muttered. 'Hiccup was right– these blood feuds will be the death of us Vikings and it is my job as Chief to put a stop to them…' 'I hope you're going to bash this Big-boobied Bertha Bog-Burglar Chieftain on the nose, Stoick!' roared Baggybum the Beerbelly. 'If you don't do it, I

might have to myself…' 'The only good Bog-Burglar is a dead Bog- Burglar,' sneered Snotlout. Snotlout was feeling extremely pleased with the way things were turning out. It looked like Hiccup was finally out of his way, and now they could have a big fight with the Bog- Burglars and Snotlout could show off about what a great fighter he was… Stoick ignored both of them and went on with his pacing. 'I have to explain to Big-Boobied Bertha– calmly– that I think the Romans have stolen our Heirs and that is why I am sending out this War Party. I have to stay calm at all times…' Big-Boobied Bertha stomped on board, her beard bristling. Fists like sledgehammers, ears like cauliflowers, she had once stunned a stag with one blow of her mighty bosoms, and many a smaller animal had suffocated in their stern depths. She gave Baggybum the Beerbelly an arrogant shove out of the way, and stood in front of Stoick with her hands on her hips. Stoick swallowed hard. He could feel his ears beginning to burn. 'Stay calm, Stoick,' he warned himself. 'Ohhh, this is going to be hard…'

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It was going to be impossible. 'I ALWAYS KNEW YOU WERE A FAT BURGLAR AND AN HEIR-STEALER,' roared Big-Boobied Bertha, 'BUT I NEVER KNEW YOU WOULD RUN AWAY LIKE A COWARDLY JELLYFISH!' 'I WAS NOT RUNNING AWAY!' yelled Stoick. He nearly exploded with the effort of trying to control himself. 'Now, calm at all times, Stoick– calm at all times, remember,' he muttered, before continuing. 'I have strong reasons to believe that our Heirs have been stolen by the Romans. I am sending out this Rescue War Party—' 'STRONG REASONS MY BOTTOM!' boomed Big-Boobied Bertha. 'YOU WERE RUNNING AWAY BECAUSE HOOLIGANS ARE THE YELLOWEST BABY RABBITS IN THE INNER ISLES!' 'THIS HOOLIGAN COULD TAKE YOU WITH ONE HAND BEHIND HIS BACK AND ONLY USING HIS LITTLE FINGER!' screamed Stoick the Vast, and there was a strong chance that Plan B might have turned rapidly back into Plan A again if the two Chiefs– who were nose to nose,

yelling at one another– had not heard a noise that made them look suddenly upwards, where they saw, to their astonishment, an enormous Roman observation balloon descending very rapidly in their direction. The Bog-Burglars and the Hooligans had been so busy focusing on each other that they hadn't even noticed the balloon above them. But they certainly noticed it now, as it was partly deflated and screaming towards the deck of The Blue Whale at about a hundred miles an hour. When they spotted the Hooligan War Party, it was Hiccup who suggested that they try and land the balloon on one of the ships. He got the sad Gronckle to stop blowing flames so the balloon could descend, and he got Toothless to take a rope in his mouth to steer the balloon in the right direction. 'Work, w-w-work, work,' grumbled Toothless. 'Why can't somebody else do it?' 'Because you're the only one with wings, Toothless,' explained Hiccup patiently. Camicazi half hung over the edge of the balloon

as it descended, enjoying the wind blowing through her hair. 'You've got to hand it to those Romans they are CLEVER! This is the only way to travel… I wonder if WE could build one of these things? Hey– aren't they my MOTHER'S boats alongside the Hooligan ships?' Hiccup leaned over to check. 'So they are,' he said in surprise. 'Maybe the grown-ups saw sense at last and decided to send a joint Rescue Party! I must say I'm amazed– that's a real sign of progress for the Viking Tribes.' The descent would have continued in this controlled fashion if it hadn't been for the little booby trap that Alvin the Treacherous had slipped between the pages of How to Speak Dragonese when he returned it to Hiccup. The booby trap was a tiny little bright yellow dragon, about the size of Ziggerastica, known as the Venomous Vorpent. This particular Vorpent had crawled out of Hiccup's pocket, had a long slow look around the basket while everyone was relaxing, and then begun to climb up Fishlegs's trouser leg. Fishlegs only noticed it when it began to walk