18 Up the Mast of the American Dream

18. UP THE MAST OF THE AMERICAN DREAM 2 He shinned up the mast like a little monkey, as it reared up and down like a great plunging tree on the back of the waves. He was in terrible danger of being blown off by the shrieking wind that tore at his clothes, and froze his fingers till they nearly lost their grip, but up, and up he climbed. Norbert halted at the bottom of the mast for a second. He was laughing as he did this, shouting up the mast, 'Where are you going, you small boy? Don't you know you're going to run out of mast, and I shall get you in the end?' And then he began to climb after Hiccup. Up and up Norbert climbed in pursuit. He was surprisingly quick, for he had an interesting technique. Every few metres or so he let out a scream of effort as he sank his axe deep into the mast above. And then he hauled himself up, almost entirely with the strength of his upper arms, worked the axe out, and dug it into position a few metres further up. Hiccup had run out of mast. He curled the rope of the rigging around his arm

(he was careful not to tie it this time), drew his sword again, and waited for Norbert. Down in the sea, Fishlegs and Camicazi were watching him, open-mouthed. 'What is he DOING?' 'I think,' said Fishlegs slowly, 'he's going to fight Norbert on the mast.' Hiccup's fight with Norbert on the mast top has passed into Viking Legend. Never had a fight been undertaken in such difficult circumstances as these, on top of the rigging and mast of a ship that was rapidly sinking, in the middle of a thunderstorm, and under attack from below by one of the major Monsters of the Deep. Norbert drew his blade with his left hand as soon as he was level with Hiccup, and aimed a great swinging swipe at the boy, which Hiccup parried at the last moment, and the two great swords rang together. 'It's not too late, Norbert,' panted Hiccup, as he parried a Flashburn Fancy-Thrust, and nearly fell off the rigging while doing so. 'Can't we put this off till later? This boat is SINKING.' As if in response to this statement, the boat gave another lurch downward, and Hiccup was hanging only by one arm for a second before he got his feet back on

the ropes, slippery in the drenching rain. 'I've BEEN patient!' howled Norbert, slicing through the air with a Double-wristed Heartbreaker. 'Fifteen years stuck on Hysteria! And then two American Dreams built and destroyed by YOU! Everything was all going to plan, if YOU hadn't come along.' 'Well, be fair,' argued Hiccup, steadying himself on the mast as he performed two quick Wristflickers and followed them up with a Grimbeard's Grapple, 'we had to defend ourselves, because you were going to kill us, weren't you?' 'Oh you're always full of excuses,' howled Norbert furiously.

'Maybe I wouldn't have done. I will now, of course,' and as if to emphasise this point he narrowed his mad eye, and followed up a Perfectpiercer with a wild lash with the axe. Hiccup desperately avoided the axe, helped by a gust of wind that threw him backwards a little. He lost his footing, was hanging on by one hand again, and Norbert bashed away at the fingers with his foot. Camicazi and Fishlegs could hardly bear to watch as they bobbed in the sea below.

But Hiccup threw the ticking-thing upwards, and it whipped through the air, and the rope wound itself around the horizontal beam of the mast a little further down. Just at the moment that his hand gave way, he swu-u-ung on the rope, yelling out the Hooligan War Cry, and landed safely a little distance away. 'Oh Bravo, Hiccup!' cheered Camicazi excitedly, 'That was a really cool move.' Toothless flapping into Norbert's face gave Hiccup the time to regain his footing on the rigging. Hiccup followed up with some graceful Left-Hand Lunges, one of which was so close to disabling Norbert's sword arm that it ripped off the right sleeve. 'I think he's winning, you know, Fishlegs,' chirped Camicazi. It was an extraordinary sight. Great crashes of thunder from Thor at his most furious, the distant grey outline of the American shore, the majestic half-sinking ship still pouring steam from its chimney, and then high, high on its mast, the two tiny figures, who had now climbed even higher, and were fighting in the crow's nest… 'Oh for Thor's sake,' gasped Fishlegs, as he clung like a half-drowned little spider to the Map Table. 'What's THAT?'

The Leviathorgan had been repeatedly battering the ship from below, and it must have been very well-made, the American Dream 2, for it was only now that the hull gave way into splinters, and the head of the great dragon appeared through the deck, screaming in fury, and chomping away at the wood with its fangs. It threw back its head and let out a great roar, shooting three of its stings upwards simultaneously. One of the flaming spears of bone shot straight through the swordfight, the other narrowly missed Norbert's bottom. (That would have been uncomfortable.) As if woken from a dream, Norbert looked down to see the deck destroyed, with the head of the Monster thrusting right through it, and looking up at him and Hiccup. An appalling stench of long-dead seal and rotting porpoise reeked off its fangs (these large Sea Monsters always smell bad, I'm afraid, owing to their carnivore diet), and the feet of an unfortunate Hysteric crew-member could clearly be seen disappearing down the black cavernous gullet. Norbert's concentration wavered for a second as he realised he had been carried away by his own anger, and Death was now staring him straight in the face.