12-第十章：谁才是王？

五分钟前，卡米卡琪和鱼脚司正坐在致命影龙背上寻找小嗝嗝，突然，他们发现小嗝嗝从蕨丛中跑了出来。尽管人类守护者也看到了小嗝嗝，但他们莫名其妙地受到了一条致命影龙的攻击，那条影龙向他们喷射闪电，人类守护者卧倒在灌木丛中，小嗝嗝得以进入蓄须王的城堡中而不被抓住。
卡米卡琪、鱼脚司、风行者、暴飞飞和致命影龙落在城堡废墟边上，这时小嗝嗝正踉踉跄跄地沿着中央走廊走向王座。
人们几乎认不出他来。
有着两种颜色的身子，一半紫一半白，衣服被利爪、海浪和暴风撕成了缎带，他的一边身子肿得几乎站都站不起来，别说蹒跚地向前走了。
一个残破的稻草男孩。
阿尔文惊恐地倒吸了一口气。在一可怕的瞬间，他真的以为这男孩是个鬼魂，那个被他杀死的小嗝嗝的鬼魂，要从英灵殿回来缠着他了。
维京人过着可怕的生活，所以他们并不害怕什么，但他们是害怕鬼魂的。而那个被你冷血杀害的男孩鬼魂很有可能是一只不高兴的鬼魂，一只回来复仇的鬼魂……
所以难怪阿尔文脸色发白，难怪他抓住自己那怯懦的脖子，仿佛是为了护住而不被割喉似的。

“啊~啊~啊！！！”背叛者阿尔文尖叫道。“托尔呀、沃登呀、众神呀！都把我从这可恶的小鬼手里救出来吧！我忏悔！我忏悔！饶了我吧，亲爱的鬼魂！都是我妈妈的错！”
“稳住，阿尔文，稳住，”巫婆嘶嘶地说，她眯着眼睛，嗅着空气，好像她能嗅出这个男孩是不是真的一样。
她用瘦骨嶙峋的手捂住儿子的脸，竭力抑制他惊恐的尖叫声。“镇静，亲爱的……别暴露了，现在我们离成功只有一步之遥……”
“这是谁？”德鲁伊守护者问道。“胆敢打断下一任西部荒野国王的加冕仪式？”
小嗝嗝颤抖着一瘸一拐地往前走。
“是我，”小嗝嗝说，身后拖着麻痹的腿。“是我，H……H……H……”
在那可怕的一瞬间，他的脑子里一片空白。他甚至不记得那条棕色的小龙叫他什么名字了。那个以H开头的名字？
那些身材高大、粗壮多毛的野蛮人的脸全都转向他，露出惊愕而不解的表情。
没人认出他来。
‘真是荒谬至极’，小嗝嗝想。‘我在做什么？看看我，我是个废物！我连自己是谁都不知道，我怎么能宣称自己是真正的西部荒野之王呢？我是个傻瓜……那条叫Wodensfang的棕色小龙在骗我……’

【Wodensfang，你醒了吗】小嗝嗝嘶嘶地说，但Wodensfang还在打呼噜，小嗝嗝只好独自面对这一切了。
【我叫什么来着，飞猪龙？】小嗝嗝绝望地小声说。【以H开头的？】
【握手（Handshake）？荷莉布什（Hollybush）？人类（Human being）？】飞猪龙小声回应道，它从背包里探出头来，对聚集在这个废墟城堡里的那么多默默站在那里而且还目瞪口呆的人和龙感到有些惊恐。这时，小嗝嗝踉踉跄跄地走下中央通道，醉醺醺般地摇摇晃晃着。
“是……我……”小嗝嗝结结巴巴地说。“H…H…H？”
然后他跌倒了。
他的脸埋在泥里，他就纯粹想这样待着。
继续下去有什么意义呢？
但就在这时，眼泪顺着他的脸颊淌下来，史图依克冲到过道上，捡起他衣衫褴褛的儿子，紧紧地拥抱着他，好像要把他完全压扁似的。
“是小嗝嗝！我的儿子小嗝嗝！小嗝嗝·霍兰德斯·哈道克三世！他还活着！”
“小嗝嗝！”
“是小嗝嗝！”
“小嗝嗝·霍兰德斯·哈道克三世！”龙印团成员们高兴地叫道，沃尔卡冲下来，把他抓过自己的铁胸甲前，大叫道：“小嗝嗝！”她的声音里充满了非同寻常的骄傲和喜悦，小嗝嗝眨巴着眼睛面对这一切，困惑不解，几乎无法相信。

所有那些他不认识的人……所有那些亲切的、陌生的面孔都在为他喝彩，为见到他而感到高兴，为他感到骄傲。这怎么可能呢？
无牙颤抖着耷拉在德鲁伊守护者的肩膀上，对着小嗝嗝眨着眼睛，仿佛他是梦中出现的幻象。随后他兴奋地尖叫了一声，然后……【小...小嗝嗝！主...主人！】它尖叫着，在空中翻了个跟头，急切地扑向小嗝嗝，差点又把他撞倒了，还亲热地把他的脸给舔了个遍，让小嗝嗝几乎无法呼吸。
【你还...还活着！】
无牙在小嗝嗝已经痛得砰砰直响的脑袋上跳上跳下，喊着：
【他还活着！他还活...活着！他还活着！他还活着！他还活着！他还活着！】
看到这非同寻常、令人愉快、难以置信的命运转折，维京人们欢呼起来，嗓子都哑了。那个小嗝嗝男孩还活着！就连阿尔文人也伸出手去摸摸那孩子的手指、胳膊和胸膛，看看他有没有体温，有没有呼吸。
怎么会这样呢？他们都亲眼看到，那男孩从风行者背上掉到海里，一支箭还插在他的胸膛上。
Visithug族的万恶不赦（Very-Vicious the Visithug）也有他自己的小惊喜。像许多硬汉一样，他也有软心肠的时候，而对他来说，就是几天前失踪的一只可爱的小飞猪龙。当他周围的世界正分崩离析时，令万恶不赦真正感到悲哀的是他失去了他可爱的小飞猪龙，他一直戴着一只黑臂章来纪念这只生物，他曾以为这只生物在最近的几场战斗中被杀了。

“我的飞猪龙！”万恶不赦欣喜若狂地吼着，张开他纹着纹身的手臂。“它还活着！”
飞猪龙的记忆力就像金鱼一样，所以它之前忘了万恶不赦这个人了。但现在它记起来了，它从帆布背包中蹦出来，飞向万恶不赦，这可怕的战士首领（Warrior Chieftain）为他宠物的归来而高兴地哼哼叫着，挠着它的耳背发出些温柔的不怎么像战士的声音诸如：“你这小飞猪龙有没有想它多毛的主人呐，嗯？”
有一些人对这一意想不到的变化不太高兴。
“他还活着！”巫婆咒骂道。
“可这怎么可能呢？”背叛者阿尔文发誓道，现在他恢复了镇静，他意识到这根本不是一个鬼魂，而是那个再次逃脱死亡的可怜的小嗝嗝男孩，真该死。“这不可能！”
“没有不可能，阿尔文，”巫婆叹息道。“只有不太可能......”
“可是我们已经谋杀他了！”阿尔文怒吼道。
“好了，好了，阿尔文。”巫婆警告道，眼睛盯着德鲁伊守护者。“谋杀是多么丑陋的一个词啊……是间接伤害，是这场全面战争中不幸的副作用……”
“他是死了的！”阿尔文喊道，他带着强烈的顿挫感。

“活还是死，没关系。”巫婆说。“这孩子什么也不是。一个矮子……一个意外……一个不该出现的人！蓄须王的一条红鲱鱼（玩笑）！这男孩什么也改变不了！”
“小嗝嗝！小嗝嗝！小嗝嗝！”龙印团们吟诵着，喜悦的沃尔卡和史图依克把小嗝嗝放在德鲁伊守护者面前。
“我们想介绍我们的儿子小嗝嗝！”大块头史图依克咆哮道。“我们的儿子小嗝嗝，才是真正的西部荒野之王！”
德鲁伊守护者伸出他瘦骨嶙峋的手，摸到了小嗝嗝，摸到了他那骨瘦如柴的‘小鸡骨’手臂，还有另一只肿胀的手臂、防火服的残骸……
“他叫小嗝嗝，是吗？啊，这是这座城堡想要召唤的名字。”
“那孩子的名字不重要！”巫婆吼道。
“那，小嗝嗝，”德鲁伊守护者说，他没有理睬巫婆。“你来这里自称是国王，却没有带任何遗失之物。你是知道对那些虚报王位的人的惩罚……”
“死！”阿尔文急切地打断他。“这惩罚就是死！”
“你有什么话要为自己辩护的吗？”德鲁伊守护者问。
“别问他！”巫婆不安地嘶嘶叫道。“你不能让这只小老鼠说话！他是只聪明的小老鼠，你千万不能让他说话！”

小嗝嗝咽了口唾沫。他能说什么？从英雄之尽头岛的海滩上那条棕色小龙告诉他这个问题的那一刻起，他就知道这将是一个棘手的问题。
一个连遗失之物都没有的人怎么可能称王呢？
此外，他都不知道自己是谁，更不用说如何证明自己才是这西部荒野的合法国王。
但......
没有不可能，阿尔文。
只有不太可能。
巫婆的话触动了小嗝嗝脑子里的记忆，就像扯了扯绳子上的一个无法解开的结一样。
那个站在离小嗝嗝只有两英尺远的地方满脸皱纹的老人，在很久很久以前，不也曾经对小嗝嗝说过这些话吗？那个亲切的老头儿是谁？那个这么亲切地对他微笑，希望他做得更好的人是谁？小嗝嗝确信自己认出了他，确信自己记得老人对他说过的其他事情……
‘唯一限制我们的是我们的想象力……’
那条小绿龙在小嗝嗝的肩上跳上跳下。【告诉他们，小嗝嗝！告诉他们为什么应该是你去当国王！告诉他们你是谁！】那条小龙轻轻地把小嗝嗝的脸转向它，这样小嗝嗝就可以直视他的眼睛。
【但我做不到啊，】小嗝嗝小声说。【我甚至都不知道你是谁……】

无牙滑稽地拉长了脸。【你什么意思，你不知道我是谁？】
【我是无...无牙啊！】
无牙刚说完，小嗝嗝就想起来了。
就好像那句话解开了绳上的结，通往记忆的大门瞬间打开。
他记得有一次，在另一个地点，在无牙第一次成为自己的猎龙的探寻之旅，它第一次用它那催眠的眼睛盯着自己。
Toothless.
他的猎龙。
他看着那双受伤的绿眼睛，小声回应：【Toothless……】
Toothless！
那条脸皮超厚、难以管教的无牙是整个群岛上最调皮、最可爱、最令人抓狂的龙……他拥抱着这条高兴地扭着屁股的小龙，很高兴地认出了它。
他环视了一下人群，他想起了所有的人……
他的父亲史图依克。
他的母亲沃尔卡。
老威力，吐痰鬼，大块头牛逼佬，十个未婚夫，背叛者阿尔文，巫婆Excellinor，还有大厅废墟后面的卡米卡琪、致命影龙和在龙背上竖起大拇指的鱼脚司...…在他过往的搜寻之旅中遇到过的所有伙伴或敌人，都用狂怒或充满爱意的眼神盯着他，希望或害怕他能改变这不可避免事实，改变历史的进程，在一切终成定局之前作出改变，正如他在歇斯底里岛*上的那样。

*详看第四册：《龙的诅咒》
他也记起了自己的名字。小嗝嗝。他的名字叫小嗝嗝。那正是一位小嗝嗝要做的，不是吗？
去改变历史的进程。
然后，当注意到吐痰鬼的眼睛盯着自己的时候，小嗝嗝猛地一颤，想起吐痰鬼的儿子鼻涕粗两天前死了，而吐痰鬼毫不知情。重拾记忆的痛苦吞没了小嗝嗝，他呻吟了一声……
鼻涕粗：嘻嘻哈哈，自大傲慢，无畏现实的鼻涕粗，他有着难以想象的勇气，为了小嗝嗝活下去，成为国王，他牺牲了自己。
小嗝嗝至少能做的是确保鼻涕粗的牺牲是值得的。
他必须这么做。
小嗝嗝吞了口唾沫。
他没有国王的遗失之物……
但是……
不知怎么的，一阵阵纷至沓来的记忆使他想起了给他带来十件遗失之物的十段伟大的搜寻之旅，尽管当时他甚至没有意识到自己在搜集那些东西，或者根本没有意识到自己身处一场搜寻之旅中。
“你说得对，”小嗝嗝终于出声。他的声音颤抖着，因为他肯定怎么说都是不够的。“我是空手而来的。一件国王的遗失之物都没有。我现在所能告诉你的就是我在寻找遗失之物时学到的东西。”

“他说话了！”巫婆惊恐地尖叫道。“别让他说话！你不能仅仅因为这只聪明的小耗子动动嘴皮子就饶了他……”
“以下是我从寻宝中学到的一些东西，”小嗝嗝没理她，说道。
“一，寻找无牙的龙教会了我恐惧和恐吓可能不是驯龙的最佳方法。”
“二，那把剑：有时候次优才是最优的。”
“三，那个盾牌：有时候必须为自由而战。”
“四，那滴滴答答的玩意儿：当你为朋友而奋斗的时候，你也是在为自己而奋斗。”
“五，红宝石心之石：爱，永不消逝。”
“六，来自不存在之地的箭：在去探寻新世界之前，必须先在旧世界把事情做好，而有时你所寻找的东西就在你的家乡。”
“七，能打开所有锁的钥匙：意外的发生是有原因的。”
“八，王座：权力也会腐败。”
“九，王冠：尽管你还没开始就已经被打败了，你依旧要尝试下去。”
“还有十，龙之宝石，”小嗝嗝最后说。“在你成为国王之前，你需要知道成为一个奴隶是什么滋味。”
现场沉默了很长很长时间。
多么奇怪啊，所有那些在当时看来毫无关联的探寻之旅，甚至是看起来毫无意义的搜寻，其中有一些旅程兜兜转转，像小嗝嗝丢失的那艘船，那条希望海雀号，以古怪的方式摇摇晃晃地在大洋上航行。

多么奇怪啊，当所有事件全部合在一起时，你突然就豁然开朗起来。
‘这是一场对国王的教育。’
“原来如此啊，这真是，”安逸部落的一个人说。
“什么原来如此！重要的一点是，小嗝嗝不可能成为国王，因为他什么遗失之物都没有！”巫婆嘶嘶地说。“我们以前也经历过这一切……”
“小嗝嗝最初是获得了这些遗失之物，但命运注定阿尔文要成为国王，而且理由也显而易见。看看我们美丽的世界，都被烧成脆饼了！”
巫婆用一根隆起的手指指着燃烧着的群岛。“龙族决心要消灭我们，只有阿尔文有勇气使用宝石的秘密来打败它们。这孩子太软弱了……他会去跟恶龙Furious谈判的……”
“恶龙Furious不是怪物！“小嗝嗝喊道，“也许我能说服它！即使一切都以失败告终，难道就不值得去拯救我们所爱的龙吗？”
德鲁伊守护者转向等待着观望着的人群。“你们说呢，群岛上的人们？”
野蛮人芭芭拉为聚集在那里的那么多人回答了这个问题。
“小嗝嗝，要是在以前，我们是会跟随你的，”她说，“在黑心监狱里，我们许多人都作出了这个决定，后来我和许多人一起印上了龙之印记。通过听说你的事迹，你的搜寻之旅，我希望你会是那个命运之子，那个带领我们大家走入一个新的光荣时代的人……”

“但，战争又过去了将近一年。我们失去了一切。龙族杀死了我们的亲人，摧毁了我们的家园，把整个山脉连根拔起。”芭芭拉说。“除非我们全都死了，它们是不会罢休的。还有，尽管我是维京人……
我承认，我很害怕。”
芭芭拉代表了他们所有人。他们是维京人，但他们很害怕。不仅是怕失去自己的生命，也是怕失去整个世界。
“小嗝嗝，要做你想做的事，”芭芭拉带着一种疲惫而绝望的神情结束了演讲，“命运必须在很大程度上站在你这边。也许阿尔文的方式是现在唯一的出路。也许这就是为什么命运给予阿尔文国王的遗失之物。”
亲爱的读者，别对群岛上的人民太苛刻了。你不知道在同样的情况下，在受到同样可怕的考验下，你会做出怎样的反应。他们无家可归，饥肠辘辘，战争的烈火把他们烧得衣衫褴褛，他们已不再是他们自己了。他们完全失去了希望，已经到了一个绝望的地步。一旦你陷入这样绝望的境地，要想走出困境可能比你想象的要难。
群岛上疲惫不堪的人们不希望龙族灭绝。他们爱他们的龙。除非你骑在龙的背上，感受过风吹过你的头发，看到过你身下世界的缩影，否则你就没有真正地生活过。

但是…
野蛮人芭芭拉和她的黑猫——无畏尽管他们是维京人，他们也开始害怕了。
“阿尔文为王！”一个危险蛮族人说。
“阿尔文为王！”一个愤怒的巴什族人回应道，甚至那些温和的部落，那些安逸部落的人，那些傻瓜族人，那些宁静部落的人，他们没有为阿尔文呼喊，但也没有反对他，因为他们又饿又累又绝望。
德鲁伊守护者对小嗝嗝的眼神是深情的（前提是一个可怕的被蒙住眼睛的人能被说成深情的话。）
“孩子，在寻找这些遗失之物的过程中你已经学到了很多。”在德鲁伊守护者的声音里有一种渴望，如果他可以自由选择的话，好像他会选择小嗝嗝。“在和平时期，你本可以成为一个了不起的国王。但在战争时期，国王不得不做出艰难的选择，要为保护他的子民作出讨厌的事情......”
这句话我说过很多次了，因为重要的真理必须反复叙述：也许我们很幸运，我们不是国王和英雄，因为我们不必作出国王和英雄必须作出的选择。
“我必须为命运和威力蓄须王选出的国王加冕了。”德鲁伊守护者说。“我必须有确凿的证据证明蓄须王有意让你成为国王。你看，一切都摆在眼前了，你没有遗失之物。”

“你不明白，”小嗝嗝急切地说。“我必须成为国王。我必须这么做。你看，鼻涕粗——”
“闪开，孩子。”那个德鲁伊守护者说。
“就这？”阿尔文怒道。“你为什么不派你的龙族守护者去杀了他？”
德鲁伊守护者把小嗝嗝推到一边，张开他蝙蝠翼般的手臂。
“来吧！伟大的命运与黑暗之力！”他喊道。
10. WHO IS THE KING? 
Five minutes earlier, Camicazi and Fishlegs were sitting on the back of the Deadly Shadow dragon, searching for Hiccup, when suddenly they spotted him running out of the bracken. Although the human Guardians saw Hiccup too, they were inexplicably attacked by a Deadly Shadow dragon firing lightning bolts at them, so the human Guardians flattened themselves in the undergrowth, and Hiccup was able to make it into Grimbeard’s Castle without being caught. Camicazi and Fishlegs, Windwalker, Stormfly and the Deadly Shadow landed on the edges of the ruined Castle just as Hiccup staggered down the remains of the central aisle leading to the Throne. He was almost unrecognisable. Two colours, half-purple, half-white, clothes ripped to ribbons by talons and seas and winds, one whole side of his body swollen so much that he could barely stand, let alone stumble lopsidedly forward. A wrecked scarecrow of a boy. Alvin let out a gasp of horror. For one dreadful moment, he really thought this boy was a ghost, the spirit of the Hiccup he had killed, come back to haunt him from Valhalla.

Vikings lead frightening lives, so they are not afraid of much, but they ARE afraid of ghosts. And the ghost of a boy you had murdered in cold blood was likely to be a ghost who was not happy, a ghost who was coming back for vengeance… So no wonder Alvin turned white and clutched his cowardly neck as if to protect it. ‘AAAARRRGGHHH!’ screamed Alvin the Treacherous. ‘THOR AND WODEN AND ALL THE GODS SAVE ME FROM THIS PESTILENT GHOST OF A BOY! I REPENT! I REPENT! ONLY SPARE ME, SWEET GHOST! IT IS ALL MY MOTHER’S FAULT!’ ‘Steady, Alvin, steady,’ hissed the Witch Excellinor, eyes narrowed, sniffing the air as if she could smell out whether the boy was real or not. She placed her bony hand over her son’s face to stifle his terrified screams, so violently that she nearly suffocated him. ‘Steady, darling…

Don’t betray us, now, when we are so near…’ ‘Who is this?’ demanded the Druid Guardian. ‘Who dares to interrupt the solemn ceremony of the Crowning of the next King of the Wilderwest?’ Hiccup limped forward, trembling. ‘It is I,’ said Hiccup, dragging his numb leg
behind him. ‘It is I, H… H… H…’ For one dreadful moment, his mind was a total blank. He couldn’t even remember the name the little brown dragon had called him. Something beginning with ‘H’? All the faces of the huge, hairy barbarians turned towards him, with expressions of gobsmacked incomprehension. No one recognised him. This is ridiculous, thought Hiccup. What am I doing? Look at me, I’m a wreck! How can I claim that I am the True King of the Wilderwest when I don’t even know who I am? I’m a fool…

the little brown dragon called the Wodensfang was just tricking me… ‘Wodensfang, are you awake?’ hissed Hiccup, but the Wodensfang snored on, and Hiccup would have to do this alone. ‘What am I called, Hogfly?’ Hiccup whispered desperately. ‘Something beginning with ‘H’?’ ‘Handshake? Hollybush? Human being?’ the Hogfly whispered back, peeking out of the backpack, rather over-awed by the number of people and dragons gathered here in this ruined Castle, standing in dumbstruck silence, as Hiccup stumbled down the central aisle, wavering drunkenly from one

side to the other. ‘It’s… me…’ stuttered Hiccup. ‘H… H… H?’ And then he fell over. Face in the mud, he contemplated just staying there. What was the point in carrying on? But then, with tears pouring down his cheeks, Stoick rushed down the aisle, and picked up the ragged remains of his son, hugging him as though he would crush him entirely. ‘It’s Hiccup! My son Hiccup! Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the Third! He’s alive!’ ‘Hiccup!’ ‘It’s Hiccup!’ ‘Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the Third!’ cried the Dragonmarkers and joyfully, Valhallarama swooped down and clutched him to her iron chest, crying ‘HICCUP!’ with such astonishing pride and joy in her voice that Hiccup, blinking, bemused, was scarcely able to believe it. All these people he did not recognise…

All these kind, unfamiliar faces cheering him, delighted to see
him, proud of him. How could this be possible? Drooping and shivering on the Druid Guardian’s shoulder, Toothless blinked at Hiccup, as if he were a vision from a dream. And then he gave a squeal of excitement, and…‘ H-h-hiccup! M-m-master!’ he squeaked and he cartwheeled through the air, throwing himself at Hiccup with such eagerness that he nearly knocked him over again, and licking his face lovingly all over so that Hiccup could barely breathe. ‘You’re A-A-ALIVE!’ And Toothless jumped up and down on Hiccup’s already thumping and aching head, shouting: ‘He’s alive! He’s a-a-alive! He’s alive! HE’S ALIVE! HE’S ALIVE! HE’S ALIVE!’ The Vikings cheered until their throats were hoarse at this extraordinary, delightful, incredible twist of Fate. The Hiccup boy was alive! Even the Alvinsmen stretched out to feel the boy’s fingers, his arms, his chest, to check he was warm and breathing. How could this be? They had all seen with their very own eyes the boy fall from the back of the Windwalker into the sea with an arrow in his chest. Very-Vicious the Visithug had his own little surprise. Like many tough men, he had a soft spot, and in his case the soft spot was a dear little

Hogfly who had gone missing a couple of days earlier. When all the world around him was falling into pieces, the thing that Very-Vicious was really mourning was the loss of his dear little Hogfly, and he had been wearing a black armband in remembrance of the creature, who he had presumed had been killed in one of the recent battles. ‘MY HOGFLY!’ boomed Very-Vicious joyfully, opening wide his tattooed arms. ‘HE’S ALIVE!’ The Hogfly had the memory of a goldfish, so he had forgotten that Very-Vicious ever existed. But now he remembered, and he popped out of the rucksack and flapped towards Very-Vicious, and the terrifying Warrior Chieftain grunted with excitement at the return of his pet, tickling him behind the ears making soft cooing un-Warrior-like noises such as: ‘Did da liddle Hogfly miss his big Hairy Master, den?’

There were others less pleased with this unexpected turn of events. ‘He’s alive!’ cursed the Witch. ‘But how can that be?’ swore Alvin the Treacherous, regaining his composure now he realised that this was not a ghost after all, but the wretched Hiccup-boy who had eluded death yet AGAIN, curse him. ‘It’s impossible!’ ‘There’s no such thing as im-POSSIBLE, Alvin,’ sighed the Witch. ‘Only im-PROBABLE…
’ ‘But we murdered him!’ stormed Alvin. ‘Now, now, Alvin,’ cautioned the Witch, with an eye on the Druid Guardian. ‘Murder is such an ugly word… It was collateral damage, an unfortunate side-effect of the Total War scenario…’ ‘He was DEAD!’ yelled Alvin, with a strong sense of injury. ‘Alive or dead, no matter,’ said the Witch. ‘The boy is nothing. A runt…

an accident… a detour! One of Grimbeard the Ghastly’s red herrings! The boy changes nothing!’ ‘HICCUP! HICCUP! HICCUP!’ chanted the Dragonmarkers and the jubilant Valhallarama and Stoick deposited Hiccup in front of the Druid Guardian.
‘We would like to present our son HICCUP!’ roared Stoick the Vast. ‘Our son HICCUP who is the True King of the Wilderwest!’ The Druid Guardian put out his skinny hand and felt the son Hiccup, his scrawny little chicken bone arm, and the other swollen one, the raggedy remains of his fire-suit… ‘His name is Hiccup, is it? Ah, that is a name to conjure within this Castle.’ ‘The name of the boy is not important!’ howled the Witch. ‘So, Hiccup,’ said the Druid Guardian, ignoring the Witch. ‘You come here claiming to be King, and yet you carry none of the King’s Things. You know the penalty for those who come with false claims to the Kingship…

’ ‘DEATH!’ interrupted Alvin eagerly. ‘The penalty is DEATH!’ ‘What have you to say for yourself?’ asked the Druid Guardian. ‘Don’t ask him!’ hissed the Witch uneasily. ‘You mustn’t let the little rat talk! He’s a clever little rat, and you must never let him talk!’ Hiccup swallowed. What could he say? He had known that this would be a sticking-point from the
moment the little brown dragon told him the problem back there on the beach of Hero’s End. How could anybody who didn’t have any of the King’s Things claim the Crown? Besides, he had no idea who he was, let alone how to make an argument that he should be the rightful King of this Wilderwest country. But… There is no such thing as im-POSSIBLE, Alvin. Only im-PROBABLE. The Witch’s words tweaked a memory in Hiccup’s brain, like tugging on a little piece of string in a knot that will not unravel. The wrinkly old man standing just two feet away from Hiccup, hadn’t he said those words to Hiccup some time before? Long, long ago? Who was that dear old man smiling at him so sweetly, willing him to do well? Hiccup was sure that he recognised him, sure that he remembered other things that old man had said to him…

The only thing that limits us are the limits to our imaginations… The little green dragon jumped up and down on Hiccup’s shoulder. ‘T-t-tell them, Hiccup! Tell them why you should be King! Tell them who you are!’ The
little dragon gently turned Hiccup’s face towards him, so that Hiccup could look straight into his eyes. ‘But I can’t tell them who I am,’ whispered Hiccup. ‘I don’t even know who you are…’ Toothless’s little face fell ludicrously. ‘What do you mean, you don’t know who I am? ‘I’m T-t-toothless.’

As soon as Toothless said the words, Hiccup remembered. It was as if the words pulled the final string on the knot, and the door to his memories swung open He remembered another time, another place, another Quest when Toothless was his hunting-dragon for the very first time, and had stared into his eyes with that hypnotic gaze of his. Toothless. His very own hunting-dragon.
He looked into those hurt greengage eyes and whispered back, ‘Toothless…’ Toothless! Cheeky, irrepressible Toothless, the naughtiest, sweetest, most maddening dragon in the whole of the wide Archipelago… He hugged the delighted little wriggly dragon with a smile of happy recognition. He looked around the crowd, and he remembered them all… Stoick, his father. Valhallarama, his mother. Old Wrinkly, Baggybum the Beerbelly, Humungously Hotshot the Hero, the Ten Fiancés, Alvin the Treacherous, the Witch Excellinor, and right at the back of the ruined Hall, the Deadly Shadow dragon with Camicazi and Fishlegs making thumbs-up signs on his back…

All companions or enemies, on so many of his past Quests, all gazing at him with furious, or loving eyes, hoping or dreading that he could somehow alter the inevitable, change the course of history, catch the axe of doom before it fell, as he had once before on the Isle of Hysteria.* He remembered his name, too. HICCUP. His name was Hiccup. That was the job of a Hiccup, wasn’t it?
To change the course of history. And then with a sharp jolt, when Baggybum’s eyes were upon him, Hiccup remembered that Baggybum’s son Snotlout had died only two days ago, and Baggybum did not know it. Hiccup gave a groan as he was swamped and engulfed by the pain of that memory returning… Snotlout: laughing, arrogant, fearless fact-of-life Snotlout, had with unimaginable bravery, laid down his life in order that he, Hiccup, should live and become the King. The very least that Hiccup could do was to make absolutely sure that Snotlout’s sacrifice was worth it. He HAD to do this. Hiccup swallowed. He did not have the King’s Things…

But… Somehow the crowding burst of memories reminded him of the ten great Quests that had brought him the ten Lost Things, although at the time he hadn’t even realised he was collecting them, or that he was on a Quest at all. ‘You are right,’ said Hiccup at last. His voice trembled, because surely this would not be enough. ‘I do come here with empty hands. I have none of the
King’s Things. All I can tell you now is what I learnt in the finding of them.’ ‘He’s talking!’ squealed the Witch, in a panic. ‘Don’t let him TALK! You can’t let the clever little rat talk his way out of this one…’ ‘Here are just some of the things I learnt from the Quests to find the Things,’ said Hiccup, ignoring her. ‘One, the search for the fang-free dragon taught me that fear and intimidation might not be the best way to train dragons. ‘Two, the sword: that sometimes second-best is best. ‘Three, the shield: that sometimes freedom must be fought for. ‘Four, the ticking-thing: that when you fight for your friend, you are also fighting for yourself. ‘Five, the ruby heart’s stone: that love never dies. ‘Six, the arrow from the land-that-does-not-exist: that you must make things right in the Old World before you go looking for the New, and sometimes the things that you are looking for are right here at home. ‘Seven, the key-that-opens-all-locks: that accidents happen for a reason. ‘Eight, the Throne: that power can corrupt. ‘Nine, the Crown: that you have to keep on trying

even though you are beaten before you even start. ‘And Ten, the Dragon Jewel,’ finished Hiccup. ‘You need to know what it is to be a slave, before you can be a King.’ There was a long, long silence. How strange it was that all these Quests, which had seemed so unconnected at the time, wild goose chases even, some of them, twisting and turning this way and that like Hiccup’s lost boat, The Hopeful Puffin, wobbling across the ocean in eccentric fashion. How strange it was that when they were all added up together, you could suddenly see them for what they were. The education of a King. ‘That’s quite clever, that is,’ said a lone Quiet-Life. ‘It’s not clever at all! The important point here is that Hiccup cannot be the King because he has NO THINGS!’ hissed the Witch. ‘We’ve been through all this before…

‘Hiccup may have acquired the Things in the first place, but FATE has decreed that ALVIN should be the King for excellent reasons. Look out there at our beautiful world, burnt to a crisp!’ The Witch pointed a knobbly finger at the
burning Archipelago. ‘The dragons are determined to wipe us out, and only Alvin has the courage to use the secret of the Jewel to defeat them. This boy is weak… he would try to bargain with the Dragon Furious…’ ‘The Dragon Furious is not a monster!’ shouted Hiccup. ‘Maybe I could win him round! And even if all ends in failure, is it not worth even trying to save the dragons that we love?’ The Druid Guardian turned to the waiting, watching crowds. ‘What say you, peoples of the Archipelago?’ Barbara the Barbarian answered for so many of the humans gathered there. ‘Once we would have followed you, Hiccup,’ she said. ‘In Prison Darkheart, many of us made that pledge, and later I took the Dragonmark along with many others. I hoped by your deeds, your Quests that I had heard of, that you would be the Boy of Destiny who would take us all into a new and glorious era…

‘But nearly another year of War has passed since then. We have lost everything. The dragons have killed our loved ones, destroyed our homes, uprooted whole mountains,’ said Barbara. ‘They will not stop until we are all dead. And even though I am a Viking… I confess, I am afraid.’
Barbara spoke for all of them. They were Vikings, but they were afraid. Not just of losing their own lives, but of losing their whole world. ‘In order to do what you want to do, Hiccup,’ Barbara finished with a kind of weary desperation, ‘Destiny would have to be on your side in a very big way. Perhaps Alvin’s way is the only way now. And perhaps that is why Destiny has given Alvin the King’s Things.’ Do not be too hard on the peoples of the Archipelago, dear reader. You cannot know how you would react in the same situation, if put to the same terrible test. They were homeless and hungry, and the testing fires of War had burnt them so ragged that they were not themselves any more. They had lost all hope and arrived at a place of despair. And once you are in that place of despair, it is harder to get out than you might think. The tired peoples of the Archipelago did not want the extinction of dragons. They loved their dragons. Until you have ridden on the back of a dragon, and felt the wind through your hair, and seen the world laid out beneath you in miniature, you haven’t really lived. But…

Even though they were Vikings they were