Princess Astrid was furious. She had been betrayed by her knights, the squires and guest who had gotten her captured by Earl Alvin de Traitre and subsequently bound and gagged and carried like a trussed yak into Outcast lands. 

It was clear the Eret had planned the whole thing-aided and abetted by the knights and squires who had completely failed in their duty to their Heir. Now, she was out of Berk and her rage filled her with an absolute desire the get back and ensure every one of those knights faced the block for their incompetence and treachery. She tested her bonds for the hundredth time, but there was no give whatsoever. She was embarrassed, cramped and after being slung over the saddle for hours, her head was pounding. And worse, Alvin kept pawing her, his large hands stroking her back, ass and legs lasciviously. She really hoped he kept his word to Eret about not touching her any more intimately.

The echoes of the hooves surrounded them as they galloped up the rocky valley, heading fast and direct towards the main citadel of the Earl. The Outcasts were all heavily armoured and taciturn, though they obeyed their chief without question. Alvin, however, kept up a snide monologue that had the gagged Astrid wanting to scream at him to shut up.

"Princess, it's such a shame we 'ad ter meet this way," Alvin said in what he imagined was a reasonable tone. It sounded really forced. She said nothing but was tense because his huge hand was strong her slender waist. "Yer know it's the fault of her father's father? Egil was a smug bastard and never gave me the respect I deserved..."

She gave a small squeak of annoyance as he pinched her side.

"Astrid...may I call yer Astrid?-I would only need to do this because yer father don't treat me like a fellow noble!" Alvin protested in a whining tone. "So I have ter take what advantage I can get."

She struggled and kicked slightly.

"Oh, yer feisty-a credit ter the Hofferson!" Alvin growled. "Yer know, I could 'ave yer, girl-and that would make me yer 'usband...and the next King o' Berk." He gave a gravelly chuckle. "And there's no one who can stop me, Astrid. And the only thing 'elping yer is that I 'ave a friend who 'as asked fer me ter 'help 'im and fer that, 'e wants yer still saleable."

"Mmm mm mee mph!" Astrid squeaked angrily. Alvin chuckled and patted her ass.

"Ooh, we're gonna 'ave some fun while yer me guest, Astrid," he said cheerfully. "And who knows? Mebbe yer'll change yer mind about me and my fine 'olding!"

Astrid slumped, despondent. The echoes of hooves were worsening the pounding in her head and it was obvious there was more going on that she had suspected. Somehow, she had become a pawn in a game between Alvin, Eret and whoever Alvin's 'friend' was. The Outcast leader patted her ass once more.

"Not long now," he reassured her gruffly. "Me castle is just ahead-and then I can make yer feel far more at 'ome..."

oOo

Hiccup cantered along the rocky valley, the sheer walls of blackish grey rock rising dizzyingly above him. The sky was grey and overcast and the air smelled of rain. A cold breeze was whirling down the vale. Anxiety was bubbling in his chest and his eyes darted incessantly up to the vantage points, seeking for the Outcast guards watching his approach. But the obvious sentinel points were vacant: it seemed that Earl Alvin trusted to the unattractiveness of his lands and the sturdy defences of his fastness to keep any enemies at bay. And Hiccup could hardly be counted as much of an enemy.

He leaned forward, the cloak following around his taut shape. A horrible sensation of uncertainty roiled through his body as the magnitude of what he was doing hit him. He was headstrong and reckless-his father had scolded him for those faults numerous times, he recalled with a grim smile-and he had run off after the Princess without getting word to her proper escorts, believing in his own stupidity he was the match for fully trained soldiers and calculating noblemen who were plotting against the Royal House Hofferson. Gods, how stupid and arrogant was he? He had managed barely a year of squire training before he was ejected from the programme because his father vanished, was declared traitor and his dishonoured son was cast aside. A sigh shuddered through him. 

Of course, he had learned far more about the political landscape and the players than anyone else in the programme, because his father had been determined that his son would not be a fool and a pawn to the whims of the nobility. Stoick was a very loyal and steadfast knight, a great warrior and respected leader, but he was a man who saw clearly and recognised the shortcomings in his masters. He never completely trusted his ruler because he knew well that knights were expendable and could be cast aside any time if it was expedient to do so. Alliances swirled and flowed between the various Earldoms and Kingdoms, shifting this way and that so that yesterday's enemy was today's ally and tomorrow's consort.

And he really hadn't ridden much recently-the pains in the muscles of his legs, butt and back reminded him brutally of that fact and he shifted painfully, knowing he would suffer for this insanity even if he wasn't killed instantly. After all, his recent life had consisted of walking, toiling and ducking the lash-and as his back ached, he was reminded that he hadn't been particularly successful in the last one either. His hands closed tightly round the reins as Fury rounded another bend and he tugged the hood up, hiding his messy auburn locks. He knew his colouring was unusual and he didn't want to draw too much attention to himself. All he had to do now was to find some way into the Outcast Fortress, locate the heavily guarded Princess, find some way of spiriting her away and then get her back to Berk Castle without being killed on sight.

What could possibly go wrong?

He hung his head and sighed. He was hopelessly over his head but he was the only person who knew where the Princess was and though he could turn back and try to inform the knights-provided they didn't execute him out of hand-he had no idea what would befall the Princess in the intervening time. Besides, his father had hammered in the family motto until Hiccup could recite the words in his sleep:

Nullus officium angustus nil negotium difficile est.

He sighed and kicked Fury to a gallop. He had made his choice-and a small part of his mind wondered what would have happened if he had refused Thuggory. He kicked Fury again. Sometimes fate enjoyed a laugh at his expense. "C'mon, bud," he sighed as the first drops of rain fell. "Let's see if we can get inside before we're completely soaked."

And he had the beginnings of an idea how he could get into Earl Alvin's castle...

oOo

When dusk started to fall, Snotlout called a halt. There had been no sign of the Princess, her horse or of the bandits who had wounded Lord Eret and taken the Heir to Berk. In fact, there was no trail at all from the place Eret had led them to where he said they had been ambushed by the bandits. And Snotlout was starting to feel worried, because he was in charge and Princess Astrid had been kidnapped on his watch.

He scowled and wheeled Hookfang round again. None of the hounds had found a trail either, which was making him concerned. Of course, the hounds had been so far behind that the knights had probably spoiled the spoor but even so... And then his head snapped up. He hadn't seen Thuggory either, not since the Princess had vanished. Was it possible he had gone with her kidnappers? Was the cocky Lord of Tete de Carne involved? 

"Strange that there's no sign of anyone, though we've been riding this way for about four hours now," Fishlegs mused and Snotlout scowled. He was absolutely certain he was capable of leading this party but there was no mistaking the husky, blonde squire was a clever man who noticed a lot that Snotlout missed. 

"Yeah, dude-maybe Eret forgot where he was attacked," Tuffnut added.

"Or told us the wrong way," Ruff put in, scratching her arm. They had been through brambles, bracken and nettles and all the riders were lightly scratched, stung and tired. 

"C'mon-Lord Eret is an experienced, tracker," Snotlout spoke up, mildly irritated. He knew they were picking at him because they had always been hugely competitive-well, they had been since Hiccup was kicked out of the squires.  His young cousin was the undoubted star of their group, an unassuming and dedicated young squire who had unsurpassed leadership talent, intelligence and weapons craft. He was the only one, with his sarcasm, patience and determination who could make them all accept his leadership unquestioningly, though many of them were still not friends to the young squire. The familiar curl of jealousy warmed his chest. Snotlout had not mourned Hiccup's ejection from the group because it cleared the way for the Captain's son to step up.

"And he isn't a Berk noble," Fishlegs pointed out. "He's here to try to woo the Princess. How do we know he isn't involved?" Snotlout scoffed at him.

"He came back!" he sneered. "If he wanted to run off with Astrid, he would just go..."

"Unless he wanted to throw us off the trail, dude," Tuffnut commented.

"Like telling us the wrong way to look," Ruff added.

"Taking us to a whole different place from where they were ambushed..." Tuff piped up.

"Taking us the wrong way for hours to let his friends get away..." Ruff suggested.

"And this is fantasy!" Snotlout snapped. "Where is your proof!" Foshlegs and the twins stared at him with exasperation.

"There's no trail, no sign of any struggle-especially the one Eret says he made to try to protect the Princess-and no spoor for the hounds," Fishlegs pointed out. "It doesn't add up. Either by design or error, he has taken us to the wrong place and sent us the wrong way."

"And the upshot is-no Princess," Dogsbreath put in gruffly. He was still sounding hung over but his innate cunning and snideness were still coming through. "So what are you going to do, Snot?" 

That was the question: there was no trail, no sign of the outlaws and the kidnapped Princess. It was getting dark and they couldn't possibly track further in the dark, for fear of missing any sign in the dark. Snotlout looked around: he knew this place-they all did. It was Haaken's Mount, a familiar landmark and training venue about ten miles south-east of the castle. 

"We head back," Snotlout said heavily. "We can explain to the King that we have been chasing the outlaws who kidnapped his daughter and..."

"Actually, you should have sent word immediately," Fishlegs reminded him. He had been whining about sending a messenger to the Castle since Eret had returned but the northern Lord had vetoed the suggestion, pointing out that it would reflect poorly on Snotlout that he needed help for such a minor issue-especially since it was Snotlout's fault that the Princess was riding out without protection. The potential loss of face for the young squire had been enough to dissuade him from what he knew was the standard course of action and try to handle it himself. And now it was four hours later, dark was falling and they had no clue where-or even which way-the Princess had gone.

"Shut up, Fishface!" Snotlout growled. "Look, we would have if Thuggory hadn't run out on us..." He paused and a nasty expression crossed his face. "In fact, he left us short-handed when he vanished and went absent without leave..."

Unlike your own father, our Captain, Fishlegs thought but didn't say-because he could recognise the malicious expression on Snotlout's otherwise handsome face. The stocky man was not overly bright, amazingly self-absorbed and as lazy as he could get away with-but he was ruthless, cunning and cruel. And he would never hesitate to shift the blame for any of his missteps on anyone else, if he could. 

"Where is he?" Snotlout muttered. "Loki damn him-I'll have to see him reported to the Captain and see what he says..." The twins shared a glance of disgust as the party wheeled round and thundered back along the well-worn path in the direction of the Castle.

oOo

The torches were flaring above the heavy gate of the Outcast Fortress as Hiccup galloped to the door, his fist in the air.

"Message for Earl Alvin!" he shouted as he approached the door. Fury wasn't slowing and the guards on the gatehouse shared a glance at the messenger, his cloak and hood obscuring the young man's features as he approached through the persistent rain. But they opened the doors enough for the jet horse to clatter through, heading directly on to the next yard and slowing as the rider wheeled around. "Stables!" he grunted, rain dripping from the hood onto a pale, half-shadowed face and the miserable guards gestured aimlessly from their dry little guard-huts. Patting Fury's damp neck and breathing hard, Hiccup walked in the direction indicated, not meeting any eyes and acting as if he had ever reason to be there. 

If you appear confident, son, others will have confidence in you.

Not really a confident guy, Dad.

He smiled at the memory as he dipped his head and ducked into a vacant stall at the very back of the space, instantly diving off Fury and tearing the cloak and hood off, hauling Thuggery's armour, expensive tunic and leggings off and stowing them in the pack. Dressed in his own battered clothes, he swiftly ruffled his auburn hair and cast around, finding a rag he could wind around his head as a rustic cap to disguise his auburn locks. Dipping his head and rounding his shoulders, he slipped from the stall and ducked through as inconspicuously as he could until he caught sight of a familiar blue roan. Checking no one was obviously around, he slid into the stall and approached the skittish mare with relief.

"Stormfly," he murmured. "Gods, I am relieved to see you. Your rider is here, isn't she?" The horse nuzzled him affectionately and he stroked the velvet nose softly. "I'll find her-I promise. Just trust me, okay?" She whinnied and he sighed.  "Not that you understand a word I say..."

"HEY!" His head snapped round and his emerald eyes widened in shock and anxiety-but playing the part of the drudge with skill-because he had three years of practice. He backed away.

"Sir..." he whimpered, curling up. The hairy, unkempt man advanced and swatted at him as a matter of course. 

"Are you new?" he asked suspiciously and Hiccup nodded.

"Um...yeah?" he managed in a wary voice. Outcast lands were pretty harsh and Alvin was a brutal ruler: there were often refugees from his clutches seeking safety in Berk Castle though the Earl always enticed the hungry, the hopeless and the weak with promises of money, warmth and acceptance. Few were every honoured. The Outcast sneered at him.

"Hah! Gods, the quality of the thralls they get has really dropped," he sneered and grabbed Hiccup's arm. "This one doesn't need feed or water-but there are plenty more in need of tending. Now get to it, boy-or you'll feel the weight of my hand!"

Hiccup cringed back and nodded. "Yessir," he managed and allowed himself to be dragged from the stall and towards one containing a horse on need to feed and water. The Outcast watched him for a few minutes until the pull of mead and wagering grew too strong. Leaving a mouthful of dire threats as encouragement, he turned and left, allowing the tense Hiccup to finally sag. But the tension oozed from his body and he absently stroked the dappled grey he had just finished mucking out.

Okay," he murmured to himself. "Time for a little exploring..."

oOo

The first person Snotlout saw when the diminished hunting party swept into the yard of Berk Castle was Thuggory Tete de Carne, his arm around the waist of a pretty honey-blonde lady-in-waiting and laughing as if he didn't have a care in the world. Enraged, Snotlout leapt from the saddle and threw himself at the taller young squire, catching him unawares with the first punch, before Thuggery threw him off and fought back, backing away and circling the enraged armoured Snotlout.

"Where the Helheim did you go?" the exhausted squire yelled. "You vanished halfway through the day and were absolutely NO use when we really needed you!"

Thuggery's face locked and then his heavy brows dipped in an angry scowl.

"I shouldn't have trusted that skinny twerp!" he snarled. "I knew he would cock it up and leave me in the yak dung!" Snotlout drew back his arm to punch him again before his brain caught up with his ears.

"You...what?" he gaped as the twins dismounted by him and the rest of the squires and knights stared. Thuggery's face locked in a scowl.

"I was feeling rough this morning so I got one of the drudges to ride in my place!" he growled, his fists still bunched. Snotlout gaped and then he threw his arms out in exasperation.

"I KNEW IT!" he announced. "He wasn't right. Gods, he was upright when everyone who drank less than you was half dead. And he kept responding instantly when the Princess called for us to move out!"

"I knew he couldn't just stay at the back!" Thuggory muttered and Snotlout stared.

"He took it in his left hand," he muttered. "You got Hiccup to take your place?"

"WHAT?" Tuff echoed.

"That skinny drudge?" Ruff added.

"Who was the best of all of us until he was expelled due his father's disgrace," Fishlegs reminded them. "No wonder he was convincing!"

"And now he's run off!" Snotlout sneered. "You owe me a dozen crowns for the bet! You didn't make the Hunting Party this morning!"

"Snotlout? We actually have a more important problem!" Fishlegs reminded him in an exasperated voice.

"What? Oh, you mean the Astrid thing?"

"What 'Astrid' thing?" Everyone froze at Spitelout's icy voice and they all turned to face the angry and still slightly hung over Captain of the Knights. He was flanked by Ack-who was almost frantic and had headed straight to his Captain on their return. Snotlout gave a small, false laugh.

"Oh, nothing important, sir," he said, trying to minimise the total catastrophe.

"Except the Princess rode off without us and got kidnapped," Fishlegs blurted out, earning him a  glare from everyone else. Spitelout's jaw dropped and he stared at the entire party and dropped his hand to his sword.

"If you weren't my son, I would have expelled you from the corps years ago!" the Captain growled in utter exasperation. "Not content with getting completely drunken and hung over when you should be escorting the Heir to the throne, you lose her? And what were you fighting about with this squire when you should be wasting no time in seeing me? And why hadn't you sent me an outrider to bring up the full knights corps and the army to rescue our Princess?" Snotlout glared at Thuggory.

"Hey! Why are you shouting at me? He didn't even make the Hunt! Instead, he recruited that scrawny loser to impersonate him so he could..."

"You mean," Spitelout said in an arctic voice, "that one of the squires-the people you spend all day every day with-was an imposter and you  DIDN'T EVEN NOTICE?"

"Nope, Captain," Tuff added unhelpfully. "He spoke to the imposter and everything. He was completely fooled!"

"Was NOT!" Snotlout protested.

"Was too!" Ruff sneered.  Spitelout massaged his temples.

"Who was he?" he sighed.

"Hiccup," Snotlout said sulkily. "And I did know something was wrong and I..."

"So where is he?" Spitelout demanded. "I want his scrawny neck on that block in five..."

"He's not here!" Thuggory interjected. "He didn't return."

"So you sent a drudge instead of yourself on a Royal Hunting party where the Heir to Berk was kidnapped because all of the knights and squires were hung over and only Lord Eret was there to protect Astrid?" Spitelout menaced. "I think you can start packing your bags, Squire Tete de Carne-because I am expelling you as of now!" Thuggory folded his arms.

"I really don't think so," he told the Captain. Spitelout grew puce and reached for his sword.

"WHAT did you say?" he spluttered, spittle spraying in all directions in his rage. The Meathead gave a small cocky smile.

"If I am expelled, I will use my privilege to appeal to the King-and I really don't think you want his Majesty to learn that his only surviving child and Heir was kidnapped because you were too hung over to even make the Hunting Party, that you permitted all the squires to drink to excess and ride out half-useless, that most of the knights didn't even make it out of bed and that your mutton-headed and incompetent son lost the Princess and tried to blame his stupidity and laziness on me. I can see who will be losing their heads first-and they're both named Jorgensen!" he shot back. 

Everyone froze because they all knew the threat was real: Thuggory had proven himself utterly ruthless and determined in reaching his goals. Snotlout had gone white.

"You wouldn't, Thuggory old pal," he gabbled but the tall, handsome man gave a sneer.

"Try me," he breathed and then he looked round the group. Spitelout wagged his index finger a couple of times and then his eyes widened.

"Or we come to an agreement," he breathed. "Hiccup was an imposter-there illegally and against all laws. He has vanished with the Princess-in the attack where the Princess was kidnapped. He is the son of a declared traitor and has every reason to bear a grudge against the King for his expulsion from being a knight in training."

"And three days ago he was given a whipping for getting in the King's way and sassing him," Thuggory added. "He was pretty sore after that. Great reason for revenge."

"Wait, we're talking about Hiccup here!" Fishlegs protested. Snotlout turned on him in fury.

"Shut it, Fishface!" he roared. "This is the only answer..."

"For you..." Tuff pointed out.

"For us all!" Snotlout hissed. "Every one of us failed out duty to the Princess. We all let her ride off with only Lord Eret..."

Whose story is suspect from first to last, Fishlegs thought silently.

"...and every one of us will pay the price," Snotlout persisted. "Not one of us will ever become a knight-and maybe we will all be executed for losing the Princess?" A crowded silence followed his words and then finally, Spitelout nodded.

"So we are agreed?" he said in a grim voice. "The Princess was out hunting, tricked away from the main party by an imposter who stole Thuggory Tete de Carne's armour and who attacked Lord Eret-and kidnapped the Princess Astrid!"

Thuggory nodded.

"Fine with me," he said coolly. "That way we all keep our heads-and only one, worthless menial takes the blame."

"You realise we'll be sent to hunt him down and bring him back for execution?" Fishlegs pointed out desperately. There was a pause and Spitelout gave a nasty smile.

"I think we know that Hiccup Haddock will never return to Berk Castle-alive."