Night Rider

E3: Viva La Revolution!

An extra chapter on how Heather and Dagur were forced off their own island (reread 'The Little Boat' if you're confused)

-Heather's pov-

"How much?" I asked, staring at the man before me with kindness and patience in my eyes. The sun was warming the air, which was still cold from the previous night and the mud squelched beneath my feet and soaked into my shoes. The market had just opened and was slowly begining to fill with shoppers who were purchasing all sorts of goods: fruits, cloths, materials, clothes, little inventions and decorations for homes.

"Nothing. It's free for you." He replied, handing me the apple. He was a quiet man with a few close friends who he would trust with his life. He wore a tattered, old dirty-brown shirt and a thicker leather sleeveless jacket. He wore a belt around his waist which held a money pouch - which looked around half full, or half empty depending on how you look at it - and black trousers which were mucky with dried mud at his ankles.

"No. Honestly. How much do I owe you?" I persisted, digging through my drawstring bag to fish out a few coins. I had braided my hair in its usual plait and I had my chainmail skirt and light armour on. I had always adored the Razorwhip, even though I saw it rarely, and just loved its scales. I promised myself that if I ever have the opportunity to own some, I would buy them whatever the price and use them as my armour instead of the chainmail.

"I have already said that you owe me nothing, Chieftess. I would never want to take anything from you. You have done so much for me and the tribe this is the least that I can do." He replied, turning to the next customer before I could argue any more.

"Well, thank you." I said to him before I began to walk up to my and Dagur's house. It had been quiet on Beserker Island for quite some time. For instance, the feuds seemed to have calmed down and we haven't been attacked by other tribes in years. However, the most noticeable change is that we haven't had a dragon attack for almost a year. This has arose many suspisions, and Dagur and I are trying to find the cause for it. We have contacted our allies, but non of them have experienced the same thing. It is common knowledge that the Isle of Berk and Outcast Island haven't had a dragon attack for eight years, but I don't think our situation is related to theirs. For example, we are quite far away (2 days sailing) and our disappearances occured seven years after theirs did. But, no-ones complaining about it. There's only one person who doesn't like it and that person is...

"There she is!" Gerda scowled. I had just turned a corner on the dirt inclining path and saw Gerda standing on a rock above a crowd of Beserkers. Gerda was crazy. Not crazy as in mental, psychopath, serial killer crazy, but more of a crazy imagination and theories. "You've been keeping'secrets!"

"I have?" I questioned, walking nervously upto the group of Beserkers who looked mutanous. I could see Dagur at the other side of the large group of vikings, pushing to get through the crowd. He had obviously come out of our house in a hurry as one of the door's hinges had been snapped and it was left wide open.

"Just how long did yeh think you could keep it from meh?" She threatened.

"I don't know-"

"Nothing happens on tis island withou' meh hearin about it." She cackled.

Who does she think she is?! I thought, She doesn't own the island, so what makes her think that?

"Sis! Sis!" I could hear Dagur calling from somewhere in the crowd, obviously still trying to scramble his way through.

"So lets talk. About tha' dragon." She exclaimed menacingly.

"Dragon?" I asked. Dagur had just managed to scrape his way through the crowd and was now panting at my side. I must say that he has been doing better. I made him promise a few weeks ago that he should be more mature and a better role model, and he is really trying to be. He hasn't raised his voice in anger at all and he hasn't made many threats against people since.