Chapter 4: The Northern Markets
The Northern Markets of the Barbaric Archipelago were a nexus of trade, where Viking warriors bartered for weapons and… other acquisitions. But the markets weren’t solely frequented by Vikings. Dragon Hunters, too, found their way here, eager to sell their captured prizes.
Typically, they offered Nadders, Zipplebacks, Nightmares, and occasionally Gronckles. But Hiccup had made a habit of disrupting their trade. Over years of observation, he’d meticulously charted every shipment, every vessel. He knew the Hunters’ schedules and cargo, anticipating their movements with uncanny accuracy. It seemed the Hunters weren’t as cunning as they believed.
Their deliveries followed a predictable rhythm. Every two weeks, a ship carrying a dozen dragons arrived from the south. For two weeks, Hiccup waited in the shadowed forests overlooking the harbor, ready to intercept the shipment. Every two weeks, he rescued magnificent creatures from a fate of cruel imprisonment.
This time, however, the shipment felt… different. Instead of the usual cargo of Deadly Nadders, only four dragons were contained within. A cerulean Nadder, a crimson Monstrous Nightmare, an emerald Zippleback, and a dusty brown Gronckle. The reduced number and varied species sparked Hiccup’s curiosity. It was a deviation from the norm, but the core mission remained unchanged. He had to rescue them, regardless of their kind.
The rescue itself was a practiced routine: masquerade as a Hunter, wait for unguarded cages, and unlock them. Simple, for a veteran like Hiccup. Yet, the simplicity masked a complex process.
The Hunters’ locks were intricate mechanisms, requiring time and study to master. Hiccup had painstakingly deciphered their workings over months. Upon opening the cages, he’d feign discovery, pretending the locks had already yielded to another’s hand. Sometimes, he’d even feign a clumsy fumble to reinforce the illusion.
He was a convincing actor, he’d admit.
Preparing his equipment, Hiccup donned a scarf obscuring his mouth and nose, topped with a hooded cape. Only his emerald eyes and strands of brown hair framing his forehead were visible. He wore his flight suit – the one he’d designed four years ago – beneath it. A lock picking kit, concealed within his right forearm pad, completed his disguise.
After circling above the harbor, assessing the new shipment, Hiccup and Toothless landed near their usual cave.
“Alright bud, you know what you gotta do,” Hiccup said to his dragon.
Toothless, having heard the phrase countless times, was thoroughly unimpressed. The dragon rolled his eyes and mockingly echoed Hiccup’s words.
“Oh, come on! Don’t be such a baby, you big baby!” Hiccup retorted, sarcastically. Toothless turned his back, facing the cave wall in a dramatic sulk. Hiccup scoffed and left his friend to brood.
Arriving at the markets, he found the cages already in place, shrouded by a massive white sheet. The covering was so large, it obscured the dragons within, concealing their form. Approaching the armoury, Hiccup spotted a group of figures – young, perhaps his age – that he’d never seen before at the Northern Markets. He paused to eavesdrop on their conversation.
“Look, all we gotta do is find Macey!” said a voice, surprisingly deep for its owner. The speaker had long hair, but a decidedly masculine tone.
“You’re forgetting one thing, Tuff…” a girl replied, her voice clear and melodic. She had braided blonde hair cascading over her left shoulder.
Hiccup felt a flicker of recognition, a faint echo of a distant memory. He didn’t know her, yet she felt… familiar.