‘AHA!’ spat the Thin Prefect.
They both pulled. ‘Let go!’ hissed the Thin
Prefect. ‘You can’t win, you know. This is mine now…’
Hiccup could have let go but this was his book after
63
all and despite his terror, some deep, indignant rage
made him hang on strongly until…
… something sharp and iron shot out from
beneath the Thin Prefect’s cloak and cut into the
back of Hiccup’s hand.
Hiccup screamed and jumped backwards.
The book split in two and before the Thin
Prefect could pull himself together and catch hold of
him again Hiccup scrambled away and over the edge
of the ship.
There wasn’t even time to climb down the
rope. Hiccup swung from it, and then let go, crashing
on to the deck of The Hopeful Puffin some way
below.
Fishlegs cut the rope that tied them to the
ship, and their little boat was pulled away so swiftly
by the current that she went into one of her spins.
‘Where’s Toothless?’ asked Hiccup.
Toothless had been held up.
His foot was caught in the centurion’s chin-
strap, and for a moment they were tied together –
and Toothless had quite a bumpy ride because the
centurion was jumping up and down like an octopus
64
with chicken pox, as he tried to get rid of the
Slitherfang in his knickers.
Toothless finally snapped the chin-strap with
his hard little gums and to Hiccup’s relief, as The
Hopeful Puffin twirled around for the fifth time –
looking for all the world as if she was dancing –
Toothless came screeching up to the edge of the ship
towards them at the speed of a flying arrow.
‘Oh, thank Thor!’ Hiccup exclaimed joyfully.
But one minute Toothless was flying through
the air like a stormy petrel in a hurry; the next a net
weighted with stones appeared out of nowhere,
wrapped itself round the little dragon in midair and
brought him back down on to the deck of the Roman
ship as if struck by a spear.
‘TOOOOOOOOTHLESS!’ cried Hiccup.
Two figures appeared over the edge of the
ship. One was the Thin Prefect holding half of the
How to Speak Dragonese book. The other was a
Roman soldier. In one hand he held a trident. In the
other he held a net…
… and within that net, struggling and biting
and turning wild somersaults in his desperation to be
free, was…
65
… Toothless.
The Hopeful Puffin made another crazy turn
and Hiccup gazed at his captured dragon in despair
until the Roman ship was swallowed up by the fog and
Hiccup could see him no more.
66
Pishyou
Thankee
Munch-munch
Crappa Cack-cack
Dobbli wobbli
Botti Bum
No like it
Me like it
Gobba
Botty-crackers
Buttok-thunder
Smelly breezers
Hoosus
Gaff
Chuck-it-up
Wobble-di-guts
Yum-yum on di bum
Yum-yum on di tum
Yum-yum on di thumb
Miaowla
please
thank you
eat
poo
bottom
I don’t like it
I do like it
spit
farts
house
nest
to be sick
to bite someone
on the bottom
to bite someone
on the stomach
to bite someone
on the finger
cat
When a dragon has spent the whole day in a
mud wallow and they then want to curl up in
your bed you have no option. YOU HAVE TO
GIVE THEM A BATH. Good luck.
Me na wash di claws. Me na splIshy oo di
splashy ATALL I do not want a bath
You are going to have to be
cunning and use PSYCHOLOGY
You: Na bathtime ever never ever never.
Me repeeti. Na bathtime EVER NEVER.
On no account are you to get in the bath
Dragon (whining): Me wanti splishy splashy
You: Okey dokey just wun time.
All right just this once
Hoody drunken di bath juice?
Who has drunk up the
bath water?
Dim-woof
Squeaky-snack
Pestistings
Randifloss
Stink-fish
Prickle-burger
Scrumlush
Doubly yuck-yuck
Bum-support
Sleepy-Slab
Munchy-holder
Warmadi-tootsies
Do di girly boo-hoo
Do di wobbly screamers
Do di chuckli ha-has
Frieundlee
Piss-people
Do di screemi beserkers
Do di hissi fittings
Do di heebi jeebys
dog
mouse
nanodragons
rabbits
haddock
a deer
delicious
disgusting
chair
bed
table
fire
burst into tears
to have a tantrum
to laugh
friend
enemy
to lose your temper
Dragon: Issa yuck-yuck
This is disgusting
Dragon: Me na likeit di stinkfish. Issa yuck-yuck.
Issa poo-poo. Issa doubly doubly yuck-yuck.
I don’t like haddock. It’s revolting. It’s gross. It’s
really revolting.
You: Okey dokey so questa yow eaty?
Alright then, so what will you eat?
Dragon: Me eaty di miaowla…
I want to eat the cat…
You: (you can raise your voice now) NA EATY
DI BUM-SUPPORT, NA EATY DI SLEEPY-SLAB
PLUS DOUBLY DOUBLY NA EATY DI
MIAOWLA!
Don’t eat the chair, don’t eat the bed and definitely
don’t eat the cat!
Do di yucky gobba-bath
Swappa da yucki
lip-juice
Do di vomit-belly
squeezes
Do di scarlet strokings
‘es alright reely
Da wingless
Land prisoners
Skyless dirt grubbers
No brainers
Flicka-flame
Snotting-gum
Brain-goo
Smelly-breezers
to kiss
to hug
to scratch
to love
humans
to set fire to
Winkles
snot
farts
Dragon: ooohscrumplush yum-yuminditum eatings
di ickle prickle-burger!
‘Ooh delicious a scrummy little Viking!’
You: Me look a di scrummy may me ow-in-di-
tummy
‘I may look delicious but I’m actually very
poisonous’
And if that doesn’t work…
You: Me gambla yow na flicka-flame di gaff da di
; pesti-stings
Dragon: Easipeasilemonsqueezi
‘I can do that no problem’
5. BACK ON BERK
By the time The Hopeful Puffin had stopped turning
round in circles, the fog had started to lift a little. Half
an hour later, the mist had vanished entirely, and they
could see for miles in every direction.
The Roman ship was nowhere to be seen.
The water was as cold as ice again, so there was
no further danger of bumping into any Sharkworms.
They had not gone as far off course as Hiccup had
thought. They set off towards the distant silhouette of
Berk to the north. Fishlegs took the rudder because
Hiccup was too depressed to do anything.
Hiccup sat staring at his half of
How to Speak Dragonese. All that
work, all that time spent
dragonwatching at the Wild
Dragon Cliff, ripped in two. He
was trying not to think of what
might be happening to Toothless
on board the Roman ship.
Toothless hated the idea of
being trapped so much Hiccup even
had to leave the door open when
75
they went to bed. And now there he was, most likely
locked up in that horrible iron cage.
We’d just had an argument, too, thought Hiccup
in total misery. And he flew to our rescue… and now I
might never see him again.
Horrorcow finally woke up from her deep
sleep. ‘Did you get that helmet?’ she yawned.
‘Not exactly,’ replied Fishlegs grimly. ‘It’s a long
story.’
In her strange, spinning and zigzagging fashion,
The Hopeful Puffin drew nearer to the little Isle of Berk.
The Isle of Berk has been home to the Hooligan
Tribes for so long as to seem like for ever. It is one of the
smallest inhabited islands in the Barbaric Archipelago,
and perhaps the best way to describe it is ‘wet’. There
are twenty-eight words for ‘rain’ in the Hooligan
language. And Berk is the kind of place where the sea is
always wandering up on to the land. Even at the Highest
Point you can find scallop shells and dolphins’ bones,
thrown up by some gigantic tide or storm.
So, what with the rain pouring down constantly
from above, and the sea sneaking up from below, the
Hooligans spend most of their lives up to their knees
in muddy saltwater.
76
As they got nearer to Berk they didn’t have
time to feel sorry for themselves. The Hopeful Puffin
was in difficulties. Never a very sea-worthy boat, she
had taken two big knocks, first when she was rammed
by Snotlout’s boat Sparrowhawk, then when Hiccup
jumped down on to her decks from the Roman ship.
She was taking on water even faster than normal.
Despite Hiccup and Fishlegs bailing out the
water as quickly as they could with their helmets, by
the time they reached Hooligan Harbour, she sank
entirely.
They had to swim the last hundred metres,
Hiccup holding Fishlegs up, because (unusually for a
Viking) Fishlegs had never quite mastered the doggy
paddle.
To make matters worse, Gobber was standing
on the harbour wall watching them come in, arms
folded, brows as low as Thor’s thunderclouds. When
The Hopeful Puffin disappeared beneath the water he
looked as if he might explode.
‘It hasn’t been a very successful day, has it?’
moaned Fishlegs as they struggled out of the sea and
on to the rocks. ‘At least we didn’t meet any
Sharkworms, after all…’
77
‘I’m not sure there ever were any Sharkworms,’
said Hiccup through gritted teeth. He looked back
sadly at the three circles of ripples and bubbles that
were all that remained of The Hopeful Puffin. She had
never been the most beautiful of boats but to him she
was the best.
Slipping and sliding on the seaweedy rocks,
they clambered reluctantly towards Gobber and stood
before him, soaking wet, heads bowed. Fishlegs
timidly offered him the Roman helmet.
Gobber was not amused.
‘WHAT,’ he bellowed, pointing furiously at the
Roman helmet, ‘WHAT in the name of Woden is this?’
‘A Roman helmet, sir,’ admitted Fishlegs. ‘We
sort of accidentally boarded a Roman ship by mistake…
we got lost you see, sir…’
‘You got LOST?’ boomed Gobber, not believing
his ears. ‘Vikings don’t get LOST. And how could you
possibly board a Roman ship by mistake? A Roman ship
doesn’t look anything like a Peaceable fishing boat!’
‘Yes I know, sir,’ stammered Fishlegs. ‘But we
thought there were these Sharkworms you see—’
‘And WHERE,’ Gobber interrupted Fishlegs,
his voice dangerously calm, ‘WHERE is your boat?’
79
‘Ah, yes, well,’ said Fishlegs miserably. ‘The
boat sort of sank, sir.’
‘THE BOAT SORT OF
SANK?’ roared Gobber. ‘YOU
CALL YOURSELVES
VIKINGS AND YOU SORT
OF SINK YOUR OWN
BOAT ON A PERFECTLY
CALM DAY TWO
HUNDRED METRES
FROM YOUR OWN
ISLAND? WHAT KIND OF
HOOLIGANS ARE YOU,
ANYWAY? YOU CAN’T
BUILD BOATS, YOU
CAN’T TRAIN DRAGONS,
FISHLEGS HERE CAN’T EVEN
SWIM…’
‘Saltwater brings out my eczema…’ mumbled
Fishlegs.
‘YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO BE A PIRATE!’
howled Gobber. ‘AS IT IS, YOU ARE THE MOST
USELESS, MISERABLE, PATHETIC EXCUSES
FOR TADPOLE POOS I HAVE EVER MET IN
80
MY ENTIRE LIFE! I AM LOST FOR WORDS…’
Despite being lost for words, Gobber yelled at
them for the next ten minutes, telling them they were a
disgrace to their Tribe and the worst recruits he had
ever had. He put them on limpet rations for the next
three weeks, and said the next time anything like this
happened they would be expelled from the Programme.
At home, it wasn’t much better.
During supper, Hiccup explained to his father
about the unfortunate accident of boarding the
Roman galley by mistake, and about the kidnapping of
Toothless, and how the Prefect had got hold of half of
How to Speak Dragonese, and how Stoick really should
send a war party to rescue Toothless and the book.
Hiccup showed the sad remains of How to Speak
Dragonese and the Roman helmet to his father to
prove his story was genuine.
‘Mmmmmmm,’ said Stoick thoughtfully. Stoick
was a great giant of a man with enough red, haystacky
beard and barrels of belly to kit out at least two
decent-sized Viking chieftains.
He wasn’t really concentrating, because he was
reading Hiccup’s Pirate Training report, which was the
worst report he had ever read. Thumbnails of Thor, he
81
was thinking, how can anybody get –4 for Advanced
Rudery? And nothing at all for Beginner Burping and
Hammerthrowing Studies, which had been Stoick’s
favourite subjects when HE was a boy.
Stoick was trying very hard not to feel
disappointed in his son. He kept telling himself that
Hiccup was just a slow developer, and would soon
start getting muscles and nose hair, and scoring the
winning goal in Bashyball games like Stoick had
himself. But what was he doing, earning reports like
‘Hiccup is the worst sailor I have ever taught in twenty
years’? How could he have come back from a perfectly
straightforward training exercise having misplaced
both his dragon and his boat? And how could he
possibly have got lost and accidentally boarded a
Roman ship rather than a Peaceable fishing boat?
Vikings didn’t get lost.
Stoick opened his mouth to bellow at his son.
And then he closed it again.
Small, skinny, freckled and unsatisfactory,
Hiccup’s worried face looked up at him. He was
clearly desperately anxious about that laughably tiny
dragon of his. Stoick didn’t have the heart to be angry.
He crumpled up the report in one gigantic fist.
82
motto: He who hits hardest, lives longest
Berk Pirate
Training Programme
REPORT CARD
Name of child:
SUBJECT
BEGINNER
BURPING
FRIGHTENING
FOREIGNERS
ADVANCED
RUDERY
HAMMERTHROWING
STUDIES
SWORDFIGHTING
LESSONS
SHIPBUILDING
BOARDING AN
ENEMY SHIP
BASHYBALL
Teacher’s Report
Hiccup cannot get up the
necessary wind to do
well in this subject.
Must stop speaking in