29 - The Verglas Tribe: Part 2

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The words had barely just left the Chief's mouth. Only when his order ended did the Riders realise what was happening, but by that time, it was too late for them. The dragons all roared loudly in shock and surprise, but none of them landed an attack of their own. How could they when every single one of them was hit with one small tranquilliser dart, the little dart embedding itself in an area of the exposed neck. The substance carried in those darts must've been strong, because compared to a dragon, the objects were tiny, yet they did their job effectively. Only a few seconds had passed before every single dragon buckled and slumped onto the ground.

The Riders were not granted any time to react in defence either, for as soon as their dragons were down, so were they. Right when their dragons roared from being shot with the tranquilliser darts, each rider ended up on their knees with two Vikings firmly keeping them there. Large sturdy hands bound their wrists behind their backs to restrict any arm movement while their heads were abruptly forced down so their eyes met the ground.

There were cries of surprise and protest. It was a natural instinct for the Riders to struggle and resist the hold their 'captors'. Especially since not only were they in danger, but Hiccup was as well. If these people were in fact their enemies, then they had just handed Hiccup right to them. They had easy leverage over them and no one was going to deny that, however, every single one of them knew it was useless to try anything at this current moment. Not only was the hold on them very strong, but with their dragons now sedated, they couldn't make any form of escape, so what could they do? It would be foolish to attack and entire tribe, so with that in everyone's mind, the Riders admitted defeat and stopped their struggling.

"Lock them in the dungeons. But keep the trapper separate from them," The Vikings suddenly now in charge of their newcomers nodded and hauled everyone up to their feet roughly before shoving them in the direction of where they needed to go, making it clear who had the authority over who. The other tribe members stepped to the side to allow a clear path, not taking their eyes of the trespassers as they walked through them. The Riders didn't have a force keeping their heads down now, but at this point, they didn't need it. Their skin burned in agitated and apprehension from the stares of judgmental eyes. All anyone wanted was this feeling to stop, but another kind of worry was also present. 

Another uncomfortable feeling present was concern. Everyone knew who the Chief was addressing when he said those words and the Riders couldn't help but feel worried for Zilpah's life. No one could see what was going on, for obvious reasons, but when a high-pitched sound of metal sliding against metal tore through the air, they started to get a pretty good sense of what was most likely going to happen, and that image made all their hearts stop.

Zilpah's head was then forced upwards by the sharp tip of a broad sword digging into the flesh underneath her chin. There wasn't too much force applied in the action; no blood was drawn from the weapon against a quite vulnerable area, but unless Zilpah wanted that to happen, she had to look up and face the person who hated her kind of people the most.

The Chief stared down at her with an icy and calculating look, and Zilpah stared back. Her arm was searing with pain from the Viking holding down her injured right arm, but she didn't make that evident out of pure habit. In addition to that, she didn't convey much malice or fear, however, apart from the pain, she wasn't trying to hide anything that was there. Zilpah wasn't happy about how things were playing out right now. Who among them could be? But it wasn't like she never saw this coming. Zilpah was well aware of the animosity this tribe had towards Drago and his trappers and there was no chance of these people being lenient with her just because she wasn't surrounded by ships and other trappers.

She was going to die right here. She couldn't even question that; she was going to die here. She couldn't see any chance of escape from this position. Her arms were held back and trapped, her legs were pinned down beneath her, her captor was too far back for her to try anything with her head and her weapon had been confiscated a while ago along with everyone else's. There was nothing she could do, and if her head wasn't forced upwards by the sword, it would've hung itself willingly in defeat. All she could do now was brace herself and wait.

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