23 How UG the Uglithug Finally Lost his Daughter

23. HOW UG THE UGLITHUG FINALLY LOST HIS DAUGHTER The Sagas tell how the very next day Humungously Hotshot, dressed all in black, sailed up the Gorge of the Thunderbolt of Thor, and into the heartland of UG's territories, right under the nose of the sleeping Screechdragons, and somehow escaping the notice of the swooping Raptortongues. That impudent Hero, Humungously Hotshot, stole into UG's castle at dead of night. Nobody knew how he got in, for UG's castle was supposedly impregnable. There were no fewer than TWENTY locked doors before you even began to get in to the Inner Castle. But somehow Humungously Hotshot got through them all and went tiptoeing through the castle, somehow he located UG's bedroom (probably from the snoring) and somehow he entered the heavily- guarded room without awaking the sleeping sentries. And ever so gently, ever so quietly, he left four pots of honey made from the bees of Berserk by UG's bedside.

The fifth pot he poured carefully into UG's favourite pair of slippers. And when UG awoke the next morning, his daughter was gone. The window was wide open, the curtains flapped in the wind, the bed was empty. The bird had flown. There were some other items of value missing. A very rare golden Mood-dragon that UG had been keeping in a cage in his Dragon Stables until it learnt better manners and didn't run away from its true Master. For some reason it seemed to think that it belonged to that wretched little Bog-Burglar child who had stolen it in the first place. And a huge, heavy Throne that UG had only recently transported all the way from his Western Beaches, with some difficulty, and was about to start the process of re-decorating with the crest of the Uglithugs.

That was where the other ten Fiancés had come in handy, lifting the Throne. UG the Uglithug's ships sailed towards the Archipelago, searching for the runaways and the missing valuables. But the boat belonging to Humungously Hotshot the Hero, The Peregrine Falcon, is the fastest boat in the Archipelago. And swifter than eagles and faster than fireflies that boat had sailed, down the misty Gorge, and away. A day or so after that, Stoick the Vast was left a present on his beach. The present was an unusually handsome one. Bigleg the Slowtop found it when he went out early to go fishing, and he rushed back up to sound the bells to wake up the Village. Half asleep, the Hooligans and the Bog-Burglars– who had stayed with the Hooligans to sleep off the effects of a rather splendid feast to welcome Camicazi home– staggered down to the Harbour. And there, sitting on the beach as if it had been there for ever, was a huge and handsome THRONE of almost god-like proportions. At the feet of the Throne was a lobster pot, and

in it was curled a gorgeous sleeping Mood-dragon, the colour of a bright golden coin. Around her neck was a letter. 'Stormfly!' cried Camicazi joyously, rushing forward to greet the beautiful dragon, who yawned luxuriously, and awoke. 'Are you all right? Are you hurt?' 'I bit that rude Uglithug,' smiled the Mood-dragon, speaking in beautiful Norse. 'Many,

many times…' 'Oh you clever, clever girl!' said Camicazi, gathering the Mood-dragon in her arms. The Hooligans and the Bog-Burglars gathered around the Throne to admire it. They had never seen such a Throne in all their lives. 'I knew it was one of ours, after all,' said Stoick the Vast, pointing to the Hooligan coat of arms on the back. 'But I wonder where it came from?' 'Don't sit on it!!!!' said Hiccup urgently. 'There's something very wrong with this Throne, and nobody should sit on it.' 'A Throne isn't very useful if you can't sit on it! What do you think we should do with it, Old Wrinkly?' Stoick asked the Elder of the Tribe, Hiccup's grandfather, an ancient old man with skin as dry and wrinkly as an old piece of driftwood. 'A Throne found on a Haunted Beach,' said Old Wrinkly, 'may not be a good Omen. And I agree with Hiccup… I have a bad feeling about this Throne. But something also tells me that we should not destroy it.' Old Wrinkly thought a while. 'You should put the Throne in the Harbour. It won't do it any harm to be underwater again. Then nobody can sit on it and bring a Curse on themselves… but we know where it is… in

case we need it someday.' 'Let's leave it here for now and we'll put it in the Harbour tomorrow,' decided Stoick. 'NOW, there is something so much more important to think about. Breakfast!' 'Oh goodee!' bellowed Bertha, clapping her hands together. 'Double helpings of roast beef and Great White Shark fins for me!' 'The letter is addressed to you, Hiccup,' said Stoick, handing it to his son, and ruffling his hair affectionately. 'Never mind, son,' he added awkwardly, clumsily aware that this might be a disappointing moment for Hiccup, and he ought to say something. 'You were a little young to be getting married, you know. Better luck next time, eh?' 'But Father, I never WANTED to get married, it was like this…' It was all FAR too complicated for Stoick's brain, which was a little underpowered at the best of times, let alone before he'd had his morning coffee, and so Hiccup gave up trying to explain. Stoick had already stomped off up the beach anyway. Camicazi and Fishlegs crowded round him as he opened the letter. Out fell a piece of paper, and a key.