Flight of the Rocket Ripper: Chapter 3


  That evening, in the most crowded part of the night in the Dining Hall, I was supposed to make sure everybody got their fair share of food. As usual, this was difficult, because if you give most Vikings a chance, they'll never STOP eating and fights break out.


  As I served roast mutton with fish and potatoes at the counter, I was surprised to be serving Hiccup. Usually he comes in earlier, before it's my turn to pass out food.

  I was totally embarrassed and worried he'd ask about this morning.

  The freckled boy was talking to Astrid. I think they're a couple. She was in the line right behind him, and they were discussing Astrid's Deadly Nadder, Stormfly.


  "Well, she is in the Sharp classification, Astrid." Hiccup shrugged.

  "But you'd think she'd quit preening herself long enough to learn the triple spin thing you showed me!" Astrid stopped talking as Hiccup held out his plate for me to fill.

  I plopped potatoes and a leg of sheep meat as quickly as I could, hoping he and Astrid would keep up the chatter and not notice me.


  But my luck seems to have run out here lately. Hiccup glanced up to say thanks, and smiled politely. Another un-Vikng-like thing about him; he's polite.


  "Hey!" he greeted me. "Ara...Arabella, right?"

  Astrid covered her mouth to avoid showing me her smile at my name. I think she's working on trying to be nice.

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah. Hi." I used the tongs to pick up a hot fish and stick it on his plate.


  Hiccup pulled is plate back for Astrid to fill her's, but he didn't move on. "Well, this is Astrid."


  "Hi!" offered Astrid, glancing up to smile at me quickly before staring at her food again. She seemed to like the potatoes the most, by the way she was eyeing them, so I discreetly gave her a little extra.

  "Hi." I answered, adding the meat to her plate.


  "Mmm, thanks!" said Astrid cheerfully.


  "No problem." I blew my bangs out of my face. "Enjoy."


  But Hiccup and Astrid still didn't seem to have any intention of moving on. "So, when do you eat? Must be busy, having to feed everyone else first." Astrid sympathized.

  I glanced uneasily at the other Vikings in line. "Uh, I usually take leftovers home late." I nodded.


  "Well, if you have time, you could--" began Astrid, all friendly, and my heart gave a little hop. I didn't know whether to be happy or to freak out. On the one hand, maybe I was gonna have friends. On the other, how would I hide my secret from them?


  "Oy! Get movin', Hiccup!" complained a Viking loudly.


  "Whoops." Hiccup smiled at me again. "Guess we gotta go. See ya later, Arabella."


  "Yeah. Bye." I managed.


  While I served the other Vikings, I couldn't help but watch the Dragon-Trainer table that Hiccup and the other kids my age sat at.


  Astrid was sitting next to Hiccup, and every now and then Snotlout, a big bully who owned a Monstrous Nightmare would lean over and say something, and she'd usually hit him. Fishlegs was eating so much he could barely fit a word into the conversation, and the Twins, Ruffnut and Tuffnut, were fighting. As usual. But they all looked like they were having fun.


***



  Stoic the Vast, leader of our tribe, got up and called for everyone's attention. I was a little surprised. He only addresses the Vikings when something's wrong, or if there's a big event at the arena or something.

  I put down my ladle and stood on the counter to get a better view over the Vikings who were in the line's helmets as they turned to listen.


  Stoic's bright red beard looked like it was on fire in the torchlight. He was standing in the center of the Gathering Hall, on a table to make himself heard, though he usually doesn't have a problem with that.


  Stoic's a lot like my dad. When he talks, everyone listens.


  His voice echoed through the big room, taut with anger. "Listen up, everyone!"

  Too late.

  "The Helm of Vladnir...." he paused for dramatic effect, then went on, shaking his head, "Has been stolen!"


  I gasped with the rest of the crowd. Oh crud. That's bad.


  The 'Helm of Vladnir' is a precious golden Viking Helmet that was found in the ice some three-hundred years ago while the Vikings of Berk were exploring. Stoic thinks it belonged to one of his ancestors. It's big and kind of heavy, so I don't get how it could be stolen. It's always been in the hut of the village leader since before I was born. It's one of our most valuable treasures, and even though Vikings aren't the sentimental type, it's our most important artifact of history. Our only one, actually.


  I craned my neck to see better as everyone began shouting at once.


  "By Oden's beard!"

  "No!"

  "When?"

  "Who did it?"

  "Let's hunt them down!"

  "...Can't get away with it!"

  "How?"

  "Yes, how?!"

  Stoic's voice rose above the others. "We found out a short while ago. It appears to have been stolen by...by a dragon."


  The outrage died down. Now everyone seemed to be worried, talking in hushed whispers among themselves. No one wanted their dragon to be the culprit. I spotted Hiccup rubbing the back of his neck anxiously and looking in confusion at the others.


  He spoke up, holding out his arms in disbelief. "Dad, that's crazy! None of our dragons would steal something. They don't even care about treasure!"


  Stoic faced his son as other voices joined in.


  "Yes, my dragon would never do such a thing!"


  "How do you know?"


  The chief held up his hands and bellowed, "ALL RIGHT!" as the voices rose. "We don't know whose dragon it was. But it WAS a dragon. No one could have broken into my house and carried the Helm off so quickly, and half the roof was torn off and on fire when we found it. All of you, check your dragons and their favorite dwelling places. The dragon who stole the Helm will be punished, harshly."

  More uneasy whispers.

  "I'll send search parties into the woods to check wild dragon dens. That's all. Good night, every one." he got down from the table and went over to talk with the Dragon Trainers, who still looked defensive.

   As people went on with their meals, I picked up my ladle and resumed serving. I couldn't help but think how cool it would be if I could find Vladnir's Helm. I'd be a hero.

  But if a dragon stole it, there's no way. Still...daydreaming about it can't hurt.


  "Owch! Ahh!" a Viking flicked his hand to shake the hot potatoes I'd absent-mindedly dropped onto his hand instead of his plate. "Rrgh! Watch it, lassie!!"


  "Oops, Uh, sorry." I stammered.

  Okay, so maybe it can hurt.


***

  Later that night, I had collected the dirty dishes and was scrubbing them by hand while the other kitchen Vikings ate their late meal and belched and talked. I decided the other kids had probably finished eating and gone to their huts, and my chance had passed. Oh well. Too much to expect to miraculously get a gang of friends the night before my birthday.


  Smog the Smell plopped another stack of dishes down beside me. I sighed but didn't complain further. It just makes him tease me when I do.

  Smog grunted and still stood over me. I looked up at him. "Uh...Yeah?"


  The old Viking looked at me from under his bushy eyebrows. "All right." he jerked a thumb over his shoulder. "Git."


  I stared at him. "What?" I asked in confusion.


  "I said, go on. I'll finish up here." He muttered, motioning for me to get up out of the overturned bucket I was using as a seat.



  "Really?" I said, raising an eyebrow. "I can go?"


  Smog sat in my seat. "It's Ye'r birthday tomorrow, ain't it?"


  I smiled wider. "You're going soft, Smog, you know that?"



  "Och! Go on before I change me mind." He squinted at me, picking up the rag.


  I grabbed my sack of leftovers and trotted to the counter. "Thanks, Smog!" I called over my shoulder. "You're awesome!"


   He just grunted. Grunting might as well be part of the Viking language.


  I hopped the counter and whistled happily to myself, pulling my gray fur coat over my head at the door. At least I got off work earlier the night before my birthday.


  Just as I was pushing open the big oak door and peeking out to make sure I wasn't going to be surprised by any dragons, a voice stunned me.


  "Hey, Arabella!"


  It was Hiccup. He, Astrid, Fishlegs, Ruffnut, Tuffnut, and Snotlout were all still at their table, long-finished plates pushed to one side. At first I was crazy enough to think they waited all that time for me. Then I