Chapter Thirty-Three: Fo'Dhia Detour

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"Cùm a 'gluasad

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"Cùm a 'gluasad." A soldier on horseback ordered.

"He said keep moving,"

"Yeah I got that Liam."

This was not how Hiccup planned to spend his first few days in Alba, tethered to a horse being led towards the Capital of Wotādīni.

Must get back to that Mindbender...

Who could know if the dragon had moved on? The species might migrate, change dens, or even wander great distances in search of a mate. Even worse they could be aquatic. It was such a streak of luck for Dagur to fly over it and now this.

CLANG! Clang-clang! Sleuther beat against the bars of his cage atop a horse-drawn cart. It took four of the black animals to pull it. He growled a deep and ugly growl, and the men nearest took a few steps back.

The Triple Stryke was muzzled, and his tails had been tied together tips wrapped in a burlap sack. His pincers were also tied shut. Shattermaster and Stormfly were in similar shape, the latter climbing up the walls of her pen.

"So, when 'oo we spiww aww o' their gu's?"

"We don't." Hiccup hissed, understanding every word of gargled speech. Camicazi had tried to chew through her own ropes earlier. The gag was their captors' answer, but she ate the first one and pulled off the second. This was gag number three.

"Why not!" Dagur growled. "If I could break these ropes I'd destroy every horse and Celt in this party for imprisoning my Shattermaster and Sleuther. Except Liam. Of course."

"They spared us." Hiccup groaned. "How many times do I have to tell you? We don't want to start a war with these people! If they're willing to listen to WHY we're encroaching on their land they may just set us free."

"Or execute us all." Pallus interjected. "Just saying. I come from Rome."

"Heather would never let that happen." Dagur returned.

Hiccup agreed with the Berserker Chief. "Not without a fight, that's for sure. And she'd have the element of surprise on her side." The naïve soldiers didn't recognize or even hear the gentle but ever-present sounds of a razorwhip, stalking through the forest.

They crested a hill. A man, the captain if Hiccup judged right, upon a golden horse with white hair stopped and turned to the prisoners. "Feuch, am baile mòr FoDhia." He said, backing his mount so they could see. "Tha ceartas a 'feitheamh riut uile"

The Vikings looked and there stood a magnificent sight. Walls of stone hemmed in eighty square acres of land, watchtowers of the same material well-manned and sturdy. A moat, not fed by but a part of some great river split in two and flowed all around the fortified city.

Rows of houses and streets wound their way up a hill within the walls until they reached a garden of healthy, handsome fruit trees. Beyond that stood another wall and in it the great castle of white stone, eagles and winged-horse gargoyles shimmering in the sunlight.

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