How to Be a Pirate - Cowell Cressida (читать книги онлайн бесплатно без сокращение бесплатно .TXT) 📗
Fireworm's nostrils flared furiously. "I have a beautifully proportioned nose," she snapped.
"Now, now, Fireworm," chided Snotlout, who didn't understand Dragonese but knew they were trading insults, "don't let the peasants upset you. Just think of when we get to the Isle of the Skullions and you sniff out the treasure and everybody will know that I am the true heir to the Hairy Hooligans.... Nice thought, isn't it, Useless?"
Snotlout leant forward, and with the edge of the plate he was holding, pushed Hiccup very gently backwards until he overbalanced into the mud.
"Har Har Har Har Har!" snorted Snotlout and Dogsbreath, and they sauntered off.
It was very depressing.
All in all, ever since Alvin arrived, Hiccup had been walking around with a sick feeling in his stomach
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and a prickle of fear crawling spiderishly down the back of his neck.
It wasn't just the thought of the quest to the Isle of the Skullions (although he was already having nightmares about being ripped to pieces by panther-like creatures with teeth like broken glass). It was this feeling that there was something evil, something POISONOUS lurking on the Isle of Berk.
And that something really terrible was going to happen ... sometime soon....
[Image: A dragon.]
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8. MEANWHILE, IN A CAVERN DEEP, DEEP UNDERGROUND
Meanwhile, in a Cavern deep, deep underground, a small Deadly Nadder was crying for its mother.
It had wandered away from its home in the cozy tunnels of the Dragon Nursery, and lost itself in the maze of the Caliban Caves below.
Gradually, as it flapped frantically down wrong turn after wrong turn, the happy hissings and squawkings of its fellow dragons had grown fainter and fainter. For the last hour it had heard only the unhappy echoes of itself as it crept deeper and deeper into the blackness.
What is more, it had the bad luck to stumble into a Cavern inhabited by a gigantic creature who was guarding something precious. This was a far larger and scarier killing machine than a mere Skullion. It was at least a hundred years old, and living for a century in such gloomy depths had done very little for its soul or its brain. It was lonely and bitter, and had a longing
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for the light, which it had never seen. But most of all it was permanently hungry.
The little Nadder cried for its mother again, and hopped a bit farther forward.
A singularly unattractive sludgy tentacle curled its way around the small dragon and lifted it into the air.
The Creature did something to the Nadder to kill it, something most unpleasant, and the poor little animal let out a last shriek of absolute terror. ...
And then all was silence.
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[Table: Timetable.]
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9. THE ADVANCED RUDERY LESSON IS INTERRUPTED
This jumpy time of waiting and preparing finally came to an end about two weeks later.
It was halfway through one of Gobber's Advanced Rudery lessons in the Great Hall.
Snotlout was in front of the rest of the class, having a Rudery Battle against Tuffnut Junior. Tuffnut Junior was struggling. He was naturally a good-natured boy and insults were not his strong point.
"You," said Tuffnut Junior, trying to sound sneery "are a big fat... and I mean really really fat... BULLY ... and your granny is a ... your granny is a ... your granny is a ... very naughty person. ..."
"Oh, for Thor's sake, Tuffnut Junior!" exploded Gobber furiously, tearing his beard out. "This is a simple exercise, can't you do better than THAT? Snotlout's granny is a yellow-bellied decrepit old oyster, Snotlout's granny is a barking mad old walrus-head. ..."
"Wossat????" howled Snotlout, so psyched up for the lesson that he didn't care who he attacked.
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"No, no, Snotlout," soothed Gobber, "not really, I'm just telling Tuffnut... you're supposed to think of something EXTRA VILE and then spit the words out... you show him, Snotlout."
"With pleasure," leered Snotlout. He leaned forward until his nose was just inches away from Tuffnut's. He grabbed Tuffnut around the neck for extra emphasis. His mean little eyes narrowed with menace, his nostrils quivered with temper.
"You," he spat out with savage contempt, "are a cowardly cowering cuttlefish. ..."
"BRILLIANT, Snotlout, BRILLIANT," cheered Gobber.
[Image: Men.]
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"... with the heart of a jellyfish, the brains of a plankton and the stink of a barrelful of mackerel heads."
"Oh BRAVO, " boomed Gobber, "you go straight to the top of the class. At this rate, Snotlout, you will have no problems whatsoever becoming a pirate, which is more than I can say for the rest of you. ..."
ETC,ETC, ETC...
Hiccup raised his eyes to the heavens. He went on absentmindedly drawing pictures in his Insults Book.
He was unexpectedly interrupted by the arrival of Stoick the Vast, and behind him, smiling charmingly, Alvin the Poor-but-Honest Farmer.
"I apologize for disturbing your lesson, Gobber," beamed Stoick.
"Not at all, not at all," said Gobber.
"But I bring GOOD NEWS. We are about to set out on our glorious QUEST TO THE ISLE OF THESKULUONS!!"
There was a short silence, in which Fishlegs turned white as a sheet and made faint moaning noises.
And then everybody else started cheering.
Hiccup put up his hand.
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[Image: Insults book.]
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"What about the Skullions?" he asked.
"I'm glad you asked that," replied Stoick the Vast enthusiastically. 'As we all know," he patted Hiccup affectionately on the head, "Skullions are terrifyingly vicious creatures. ..."
"Savage beyond your wildest dreams," murmured Hiccup.
"BUT," beamed Stoick, "they have not only lost their ability to fly, but also their sense of SIGHT. Indeed, they are guided to their prey almost entirely by smell alone. So it is Alvin's theory that if we BATHE thoroughly before we go -- unusual, I know, but you have to suffer to be rich -- we should be all right."
Fishlegs put up his hand. "Theory? Should be? What you're saying is that Alvin doesn't actually KNOW, and we could find ourselves flat on our backs being chewed to death very slowly by a bunch of ravenous reptiles."
Stoick nodded.
"In which case you shall enter Valhalla a Hero of the Tribe! And may I say here," said Stoick solemnly, "that anyone who dies in the course of his duty shall be awarded a posthumous Black Helmet."
"Oh yippee," murmured Hiccup.
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"DEATH OR GLORY!" yelled Stoick the Vast, performing the complicated Hooligan salute, which consists of making a slitting motion across your own throat while letting out a fart like a clap of thunder.
"DEATH OR GLORY!" shouted Gobber the Belch, and eleven of the trainees shouted fanatically, "DEATH OR GLORY!" and made the salute back at him.
"OH, not this AGAIN," groaned Hiccup and Fishlegs to themselves.
Stoick and Alvin's plan really was that simple. The Hooligans and dragons had to bathe themselves thoroughly. They had to present themselves the next day at the Great Hall, where Alvin would make sure they passed what Alvin called "the Sniff Test." This consisted of Alvin, who was good at this sort of thing, seeing if he could smell them or not, and the expedition would set off.
Hiccup nerved himself up to talk to his father, never an easy task.
"Father," said Hiccup to Stoick, after he had bathed himself and Toothless very thoroughly indeed.
