The Other-worldly Protector

68. Arrival

The damp ocean wind breezed past Kiara's head as she stared ahead from the stern of the boat. In the distant darkness, a faint red-orange glow could be seen. It was an island alight with torches and lanterns in the night time.

"Is that it?" Snotlout asked from beside her.

"Yes," Gobber replied, grim. "Tha's a whole load o' boats already docked."

"Very well, valet." Straightening, Snotlout cleared his throat. "I shall get my gold now."

The sight of the island stirred unease inside Kiara. Her hands reached for her hair to double-check the french braid Astrid had done; her bangles jingled as she did so. She found the braid to be immaculate, and the few loose strands of hair still perfectly framed her face. Kiara let her arms fall to her sides, aware of the draping sleeves of her maroon gown. She took a deep breath, held it and let it out, telling herself everything would work out. As their boat drew closer and Kiara began to make out the movement of people on the busy docks, Hiccup's words from earlier repeated in her head:

We are playing a deadly game with the most ruthless Viking we've come into contact with.

Kiara spotted a figure staring intently at their boat with dark sunken eyes. When those eyes seemed to lock onto her, a shiver travelled up her spine.

We know, from experience, Viggo Grimborn does not lose easily. But these risks that we take: we have to take.

Kiara steeled herself and turned to Snotlout. He was hugging the chest of gold with his arm and held his other arm out for her. She took it, fighting the discomfort from showing as they tried to fit the mould of a young couple.

If we don't disrupt this auction, Viggo will profit off all those dragons and buy an armada of dragon-hunting ships to reinforce his empire. No dragon will be safe; not even on Berk.

The wail of a dragon reached out to them from not very far away, the desperate sound tugging at their hearts. Kiara tried not to frown as her thoughts scrambled to Whiplash.

Already he has taken one of our own. He has tricked us and played with us countless times. Now it's our turn to strike back.

The ship was docked now and Gobber lowered the plank for them. Kiara barely heard the thud of the plank hitting the shore over the din of the hunters and buyers and the sound of blood rushing in her ears.

With this strike, we will cripple his empire. We will bring back Whiplash and free other dragons who were caught just like her. This time, we will win.

"We will win," Kiara uttered, "for Whiplash." She stepped onto the plank.

"Hear ye, hear ye, the honourable uh— Sir Ulgerthorpe and Lady Ingerman!" Gobber announced, grabbing the attention of a couple of hunters.

A sour taste filled Kiara's mouth as she saw Ryker and Viggo walking towards them. She wanted to burn the two men, but the fire she held was hidden under her beautiful attire and the graceful way she walked off the boat while gently clinging to her betrothed. She was no longer the brash girl that once faced Ryker and later Viggo. She was a flower petal, soft and elegant, looking older as well with her meandering braid and subtle eyeshadow. Her voice held the airy quality of a princess who would never yell and was tinged with a Scottish accent; all of this was a stark contrast to Sir Henry Ulgethorpe and his clamouring voice that never seemed to stop.

"Don't just stand there babbling to the peasants!" Snotlout ordered and handed over his chest to Gobber. "Carry my gold." Snotlout's eyes landed on a staring hunter. "Get yourself a new axe," he said, chucking a gold coin at him. "You!" he addressed another, "Get yourself a new tunic."