Advisory: Details of wounds.

Circling Vultures

Magne Jorgensen had interviewed three Captains for his security patrol when he realised that he was going about the security question the wrong way: he would take them ALL. He needed every ship he could get his hands on in order to capture Fury. Every scrap of intelligence he could get his hands on-especially from Eret, who had been captured twice by the man now-indicated that Fury was inspirational, sarcastic and brave but physically not so impressive. He was a good swordsman-though Eret reckoned his skill was overrated-and he relied heavily on his crew. His gunners were wild and crazy, the men fiercely loyal and the whole crew functioned like an efficient machine. He travelled with his son-a potential weakness. The Night Fury was famed as the fastest ship in the Archipelago-but that wasn't the issue, since the ship would come to Magne: after all, Fury had sworn to sink every one of his ships until he had broken Magne.

Jorgensen Shipping was feeling the strain. They had eleven ships in all-and half their fleet was at the bottom of the Sullen Sea. The insurers refused to pay for their losses and Magne had been forced to act boldly to save the business. He pulled his attention back to the rough man facing him.

"We're hunting Fury!" he explained. The man gave a yellow grin.

"The man is a beast!" he said with a growl.

"But he is a man," Magne replied smoothly. "A skinny, sarcastic man. You could snap him in two." The powerful man facing him looked thoughtful for a moment.

"His ship-his crew-is the toughest in the Archipelago," he reminded Magne.

"But not invincible," the younger Jorgensen commented temptingly. "Just think of the fame, the glory...of being the man who brought in Fury..." The man's yellow smile widened.

"I'm in," he said and he signed the contract. Magne peered at the paper.

"Welcome, Captain...Savage," he said clearly. "I just need one more ship and my private force will be complete. And then, you will escort my ships...and go hunting for Fury." The man tipped a sarcastic salute and rose.

"I have a friend you could call on," he murmured. "Hmm...you may not approve...but he has a particular grudge against Fury. And his ships would be invaluable in pursuing this pirate dog you seek." Magne sat back and steepled his thick fingers, his brows pulled down in a scowl. His blue eyes were cold.

"I think you will find that I am a man of few qualms when it comes to getting what I want," Magne told him. "Who is your friend?"

"Captain Alvin the Treacherous!"

oOo

The Night Fury sailed through the seasick maze around Dragon Island, the black sails trimmed and Ruff at the wheel. The female twin was also a handy helmsman as well as lunatic gunner and she was about the only other person Fury would trust to take his ship through the maze to the pirate port. Fishlegs had the deck while Fury was in his cabin with Arild.

The boy had taken some time to get over his concussion, the bruising on his forehead still obvious. There was going to be a scar and Fury was wracked with anxiety and guilt about the injury-far more than the lad, who was hugely impressed that he now looked like a real pirate. "How's it feel, bud?" he asked. Arild gave his gappy smile.

"It's only fun if you get a scar out of it!" he grinned and Fury rolled his eyes. Thank you, twins.

"Wasn't fun for me," he grumbled. The boy frowned. He wasn't stupid and could tell his Dad was in pain-and had been since they escaped from Drago's monster ship. He wished he'd seen the explosion but the twins had promised to blow up something almost as big so he could get the idea. Fury, of course, had vetoed the idea.

"Dad?" The small voice was hesitant. He was worried he may anger his father and though he didn't fear Fury, he didn't want to disappoint him either. "What happened in that ship? When you came back to the cell, you just wanted to curl up. Did they hurt you?" Fury shrugged and sat back in his chair gingerly.

"Yeah...but nothing you need to worry about, bud," he said quietly, forcing himself not to rest his hand against the wounds in his side. The boy had sharp eyes and he knew the crew were suspicious, though he had made it plain that he didn't want to be fussed. But Drago's men had made a mess of him-and the injuries were taking a long time to heal, still oozing a little if he stretched the wrong way. "It was my job as Captain. A Captain protects his own."

"Even those people from Berk?" the boy clarified. "Even Lady Astrid?" Fury winced. She was becoming a problem-not that he had anyone he could discuss it with.

"Boy, nothing gets past you, does it, bud?" he asked. The boy flashed his grin.

"If I don't notice, you don't tell me anything!" he protested. Fury lunged at him then, grabbing the boy and running light fingers down the boy's sides and across his stomach, expertly tickling him. Arild squealed and writhed but couldn't resist the gentle attack by his adoptive Dad. Finally, exhausted by laughing, he collapsed into Fury's arms, breathing hard and hugging the battered pirate happily. "I love you, Dad!" he sighed.

"I love you too, bud," he murmured. "And I promise if I have something really important, I will tell you." Arild nodded as the pirate lifted his chin with a finger and stared carefully into the bright green eyes. "We've come back to Dragon Island-but I want you to stay on the ship," he said sternly. "I worry if you go back to the village. There are people there who know who you are and used to bully you. And there are people there who know who I am and may hurt you to get at me." The boy sighed and nodded. He was looking forward to seeing the boys who had delighted in tormenting him and showing off his change in fortune...but he could understand what Fury said. He nodded.

"Promise," he said gently. Fury rose, adjusted his leather armour and wrapped his black scarf over his lower face. He checked his sword and knives and then swept his cloak on. Arild watched him with a frown. "You look like you're going into battle," the boy noted. Fury sighed and nodded, pulling his hood up.

"Dragon Island isn't exactly a safe place for me either," he said and winked at the boy. "See you later, bud. And stay on the ship!"

"Yessir!" the boy saluted cheekily and Fury grinned as he swept out.

oOo

The Pirate Council guards admitted Captain Fury without hesitation because though he was a maverick, he was still a pirate and the Code granted him some rights. Fishlegs and the twins were with him but the guards insisted they waited outside as he was shown into the chamber to see Master Viggo. They looked after him with concern: Fury had been garrulous on the way to the Council building, showing his nervousness. The First Mate recalled why they had left Dragon Island and eyed the door closely. Even the twins were twitchy.

Facing Master Viggo, Fury felt his pulse accelerate and he clenched his fist. This man had sent people into his home, people who had threatened the boy and hurt him. His eyes glittered coldly and he lifted his chin.

"I am only here because I owe you this warning," he said coldly. Viggo inspected him with his dark, calculating eyes. His older brother, Ryker, inspected the much slighter Fury with scornful eyes and the pirate knew the man would rather be punching him than talking to him. Viggo gave a mocking smile.

"I don't respond well to threats, Captain Fury," he sneered.

"I'm not making one," Fury told him. "Drago Bludvist is."

"And you are his messenger?"

"Hel, no. I'm the poor bastard who ended up in the wrong place at the wrong time," Fury said bitterly. "The man is a brute. He has an Armada of vessels twice as large as the Night Fury or even larger. His flagship was a beast four times our size and more heavily armed than half a dozen of our vessels. When he moves into the Archipelago-and I mean when-we won't stand a chance on our own. We'd barely stand one if we all banded together-and only you can make that happen!"

Viggo laughed in his face. "The Lord of the North has no interest in our affairs down here!"

"I've seen his plans!" Fury snapped. Viggo leaned forward and his expression turned cold.

"When?" Fury stared at him, his eyes cold and then he unbuckled his armour and dragged it and his tunic up-revealing a brand over his chest. He was breathing hard in anger and pain as the Master and this brother stared at the shape.

"When he tortured me for details of the way to Berk-and Dragon Island!" he growled through gritted teeth.

"The crowned dragon," Viggo breathed. "The Bewilderbeast. It is Drago Bludvist's symbol."

"Oh good. I'm glad I didn't forget which lunatic bastard had me screaming!" Fury shot back. "He wants the Archipelago-and he won't tolerate any competition! He'll destroy us as surely as he'll crush all opposition!" Viggo glared at him.

"And why are you so bothered? Every pirate for himself and Loki take the hindmost!" he reminded the man.

"Because he will do this to every single one of us!" Fury growled, jerking his head to the brand. He was breathing hard, trying very hard not to remember those moments. "He'll enslave us to serve on his ships. To be his...possessions. That was what he had planned for me and my crew."

"We aren't all as reckless as you!" Viggo taunted him. "We can look after ourselves." Wearily, Fury slid the tunic over the vicious wound and refastened his armour.

"No, you can't," he said coldly. "And I don't fancy being picked off, one by one. I've seen his ships, their armourments, the army of men he commands. He has no mercy, no humanity, nothing. He just wants to destroy and dominate."

"I think we are well enough protected, Captain, that we will take your intelligence under advisement," Viggo said. Fury clenched his fists and glared at the man but Ryker took a step forward.

"Did you get our message?" he sneered. Fury stared up into the cold face. Ryker topped him by a head but Fury was stiff with rage, his hand hovering close to the hilt of his sword and he closed so abruptly that the big man stepped back a pace.

"You threaten my son again and I will rip your heart out," he said very quietly and very coldly. "Since when did you take sides? I thought it was every pirate for himself and Loki take the hindmost? Or does that only apply to people who aren't paying you kickbacks?" Viggo stiffened with rage.

"Leave!" he snarled. "Before we give you another lesson in what happens when you cross the Grimborns..."

"There isn't a little boy here to be held at knifepoint," Fury sneered. "Attack me now and you won't walk away. I've warned you about Drago. It's up to you to do your job as leader of the Council. Or not. You know what? You can all go to Helheim! I don't care!" Then he spun on his heel and stalked from the room, slamming the door and sweeping past his friends. Fish and the twins saw him leave and had to run after him. Fury was halfway down he street before he finally slowed to allow them to catch up.

"So it didn't go well," Fishlegs guessed, seeing his friend's face. Fury was angry. The man dragged his hood back and shook his head, his tousled auburn hair framing a despondent face.

"They think these seastacks will protect them," he sighed. "We've seen how they deal with them."

"Yeah, dude-straight through!" Tuff noted. Fury gave a weary nod.

"And your best shots couldn't get through their hull," he reminded them. "You two are the best gunners in the Archipelago. So if you can't..."

"They're yak meat!" Ruff finished. She sighed. "What now, boss?"

"We need supplies," he decided. "And I need to visit the blacksmith's. I need to see if I can get us a prototype of that sea shot. Hel, the way things are going, we may end up as the only ones prepared for Drago."

oOo

Astrid was practising with her sword, her training outfit of leather skirt, tunic, leggings and boots very unusual for a lady. She spun and lunged, her balance perfect and speed and eye excellent. She ran through a series of drills and then casually tossed her sword up, then caught it again.

"Your father never mentioned anything about this," Eret complained, observing her with a smug expression on his face. "I suppose your technique is adequate, but your guard is weak and you have a huge hole in your defence on the left flank." She paused and schooled her expression. Despite her dislike for him, he clearly did have some skills with the sword and he had challenged Fury, who was far the best swordsman she had ever seen.

"Will you show me, husband?" she asked him softly. She knew that she didn't love-or even particularly like-Eret but she owed him some small effort since she was married to him. Her eyes met his, her azure depths inspecting his deep brown ones. She found herself wishing they were the expressive emerald gaze of the pirate but her expression was softly pleading...

"No," he said flatly. "I will not have my wife pretending she is a man, playing with weapons and practising the sword!"

"And yet those who do not wield swords can still die on them!" she replied coolly, stung by his words. "I am the child of Lord Egil Hofferson and I, as every Hofferson since the founding fathers of Berk, am trained in arms!"

"It ends!" Eret said flatly. "I forbid it!" She stared at him.

"It is my duty!" she said in shock. "My father's decree!"

"I forbid it!" he growled. "Now get back inside!" She opened her mouth to protest but a groom appeared, summoned by her husband.

"My wife is overwrought!" the General announced. "Escort her to her rooms. Confiscate her sword. She is not to be permitted on the weapons range again. If she disobeys me, I am to be informed immediately and she is to be removed and locked in her room. I will not be disobeyed in my own house!"

"It is not your house!" she shouted. "It is my father's!"

"And I became his Heir when I wed you, wife," he sneered. "All that was once yours is mine. So this is my house, you are my possession and you will do as you are commanded or, by the Gods, I will make you regret your birth!" She struggled but the groom merely lifted her completely off the ground and carried her away, howling in rage.

"I regret ever agreeing to marry you!" she screamed.

oOo

Eret stormed down to the stables, grabbed the nearest horse and galloped into town. He was furious, his mind a seething mass of scarlet rage. He was thoroughly disrespected by his frigid wife, who had refused him the honour, the support and the dues he was owed as her husband. She had sided with that treacherous rat, Fury against him, helped him humiliate Eret and defied him when he planned to capture the pirate. Oh yes, Eret knew how the pirate had known of his plan and he was determined to make that damned cutthroat and his faithless slut of a wife pay.

He galloped into Berkisport and nearly ran three traders down. He just snorted and waved their protests aside, then wandered into his favourite tavern, got a jug of mead on credit and began draining it while muttering darkly about his revenge. He barely looked up as another man sat at the table, helping himself to a mug if the mead.

"I'm not in the mood," Eret growled. Magne sipped the mead and frowned at it.

"I have a much better flask in my office," he told the General. Eret scowled.

"This is fine...unless you can hand me a Fury on a plate," he snapped. Magne sniffed the mead and took another sip.

"Almost," he said. "Interestingly, following the trip on that pirate scow, the Governor has assigned two warships to accompany our convoys. But in the meantime, I have made my own arrangements and I now have my own private force which should more than match Fury and his damned crew of misfits!" Eret drained his mug and frowned.

"Really?" he slurred. "'d like t'see that..." Magne leaned closer.

"And my partner really wants to ensure Fury has a long and painful death," he purred. Eret sat up straight.

"I'm in," he growled. "I'm on this mission." Magne gave a cruel grin.

"Then you should meet your host," he suggested as a large and bulky shape stomped into the tavern. Three other powerful shapes followed and all pulled up chairs. The younger Jorgensen smiled coldly and gestured to the men. "May I introduce Captains Fenrir, Bloodnose, Savage...and Alvin the Treacherous!" Eret stared at the huge Outcast leader who had tried to kill him.

"Are you insane?" he hissed to Magne. The man gave a savage smile.

"No," he said. "These men want my money...and a side order of vengeance on that bastard Fury!"

"Actually, I'd do it fer free!" Alvin clarified. "Though I 'ave signed a contract ter be paid, don't try ter get of it that easy, boy!" He gave a yellow grin. "Anything to 'ave Fury at me mercy!" Eret gave a smile. This way he could pay back Fury and his wife.

"I'm in!" he slurred. "Let's drink to that!"

oOo

Arild was getting very bored, because almost everyone had taken the chance to get some shore leave and had headed into the village to catch up with old friends and spend the money burning holes in their pockets. He had explored the ship, seeing if he could find any new hidey holes-and had located one which he committed to memory-and had practiced fencing. Finally, he had trailed back to the cabin and tried to read the book Fury had been using to teach him. Tongue out and finger tracing along the line of runes, he had managed a whole page before his head was spinning and he grew restless.

Up on deck, he stared longingly at the gangplank once more, sighing. He had promised Fury and the man had stressed how important it was always to keep his promises. He sighed...and then heard his name.

"Oy! Toothless!"

His head snapped up: he knew the voice and he spied the scruffy man with the long scar on his face waving. There was a scarf around his thinning mouse-coloured hair and his hazel eyes inspected the lad curiously. His clothing was scruffy and looked as if it hadn't been washed since the boy last saw him. He was beckoning and the boy reluctantly came to the top of the gangplank.

"Come closer, boy," the man invited, his eyes narrowed. "Haven't you got a word for your old Dad?"

"I've got four, Gunnar," the boy said. "You didn't want me." The man glared at him but turned it into a sickly laugh.

"Son, son..." he said calmly. "You misjudge me! I-I was just shocked by your mother's death. I didn't mean it..." Arild took a small step closer, guilt tugging at his heart from one of the last memories of his dying mother...

Please...try to get on with Gunnar, Arild. Please-just for me... I need to know you will be safe...when I...

O-okay, Mom...I'll t-try. B-But you're gonna be fine...

Please...just be my big brave boy...

But Gunnar hadn't always kept his part of the bargain either...

"Really?" he asked suspiciously. "And I suppose you didn't mean all those beatings, all those nights with no food, the nights you threw me out because you and Mom...well...wanted alone time... You didn't mean any of it?"

"You're my boy, Toothless," Gunnar said. "I love you."

You little runt! Do you think I want some snivelling brat hanging around like a bad smell? She's dead and you were never mine. Get out before I kick your scrawny ass!

"No, I think where I am is just fine," the boy said, his green eyes wary. "They don't beat me, they feed me, they make me feel like part of the family..."

"And I'm really glad that you have found a berth on a ship," Gunnar said with forced patience. "It's all good training for the future..." Arild eyed him suspiciously and he took a small step closer.

"Is-is that how you started?" he asked softly. Gunnar nodded.

"Yeah-I went to sea when I was about five as a cabin boy," he said proudly. "Never looked back." Arild nodded: that much was true. He hadn't even looked back to check his dependents were safe. "Look, I was searching through the cottage and I found a few things of your Mom's that you might like. Letters from her family, a few beads, that little scarf she used to wear on Snoggletog..." The boy managed a small smile, recalling her beautiful smile on those few happy days. He nodded. "Come with me and collect them." The boy's face fell.

"I-I can't,"he said timidly. "I-I promised the Captain I would say on the ship."

"He'll never know..."

"He always knows," Arild said firmly. "Anyway, I want to stay here. I don't want to go anywhere with you. Last time, you tried to barter me in a game of knucklebones!"

"They can't take you away from me!" the man sneered. "You're mine!"

"You said I was never yours!" Arild said, taking a further step forward to glare at the man, his fists balled and body stiff with righteous anger.

"You're seven years old!" Gunnar snapped. "Do you think you have any say? If I say you're mine, then you're mine!" And he lunged forward and grabbed the boy's shoulder, a hand tightening around the little wrist and hauling him onto the dockside.

"Get off me!" Arild shouted, fighting fiercely, his small boots kicking at the man's ankles. "I wanna stay with Fury!"

"You know, that's your problem, kid!" the man snarled, dragging the boy close. "You don't get to stay with him...and I have had someone offer to pay good money for you. So you're coming with me, brat, and I am gonna sell you like the piece of trash you are!" Screaming and howling, the boy was lifted off the ground and a hand clamped over his mouth. With a nasty grin, he hauled the boy away, absolutely sure no one would intervene. People on Dragon Island saw nothing and remembered less. He actually had no clue whether the boy was his or not-probably not, if the boy's unusual green eyes were any clue-but he had lived with the boy's dead mother on and off for some years and he felt the lad was his to dispose of. And the offer had been very generous. With a smile, he vanished into the maze of streets and vanished.

A/N: Acknowledgement-I borrowed Eowyn's line from LOTR:TTT for Astrid when talking about women and swords to Eret (who is definitely no Aragorn!)