"But that's CANNIBALISM," said Stoick, shocked.

"I know, I know," sighed Alvin. "It's very old-fashioned of me, but I would lose respect in front of the rest of my Tribe if I dropped ALL the old traditions...."

"But... but... but... but...." blustered Stoick.

"I shall not change my mind, whatever you say," said Alvin gently. "The thing about dinner is, it never wants to be eaten. I mean, you eat PORK, don't you, Stoick?"

"Well, yeees," admitted Stoick.

"There you are then!" said Alvin. "No pig is ever going to VOLUNTEER to be supper, and, thinking of volunteers ..." Something seemed to be amusing Alvin. He giggled delightedly. "I mentioned that it

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would not only be Stoick who would receive this, ah ... honor," said Alvin, "but also his descendants. I know there has been some sort of argument about this recently. The question is," continued Alvin, struggling to keep a straight face, "WHO is the Heir to Stoick the Vast? Could they put up their hand please?"

Strangely enough, Snotlout did not put up his hand at this point.

Instead, he tried to hide behind Dogsbreath the Duhbrain, staring very hard at his bronze-tipped sandals, as if he hadn't quite heard the question.

Hiccup sighed.

He stood right up on the bench so that everyone could see him.

"I," said Hiccup, "I am the Heir to Stoick the Vast."

Stoick smiled a big, proud smile.

For all their manners, the Outcasts whispered a great deal at that. Hiccup didn't have to speak Outcastese to know that they were saying things like: "That skinny prawn is the Heir to the Hairy Hooligans???"

Two gigantic Outcasts lifted Hiccup from the bench and set him down next to Stoick the Vast.

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Alvin held up the Stormblade. The sword was now just an extension of his arm, like the horn of a narwhal is an extension of its nose.

"It looks as if it has always been there, doesn't it?" said Alvin.

The daylight played across the bolt of lightning motif. Alvin drew a finger across the blade ever so lightly, and blood instantly dropped onto the deck.

"Nice and sharp. This won't take a second," promised Alvin, stepping towards Hiccup.

[Image: A pirate.]

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15. THE BATTLE ON BOARD THE LUCKY THIRTEEN

Alvin advanced towards Hiccup, with the Stormblade raised above his head.

Hiccup closed his eyes, waiting for the blow.

But at that moment Toothless finally managed to overturn the barrel he was trapped underneath.

[Image: A dragon in the barrel.]

He had been throwing his entire body weight at one side for the past five minutes. At last he made an extra-strong he-e-e-eave, the barrel tipped over, and rolled at great speed across the deck with Toothless rumbling round and round inside it... and bowled straight into the legs of Alvin the Treacherous ... who lost his footing and fell over....

Alvin gave an ooohh of surprise, the Outcasts

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were distracted for one vital second, and Stoick turned round and felled Curly Horns with a good old-fashioned uppercut right under the chin.

From that moment on, there was chaos aboard the Lucky Thirteen.

The Hooligans took advantage of their captors' surprise as the swords against their throats were lowered for a moment.

"THIS IS MORE LIKE IT! I'LL TEACH YOU TO SAY THE HOOLIGANS HAVE

GONE SOFT!!!!" Stoick let out the Viking War Cry and launched himself on the enemy completely barehanded. He crashed two Outcasts' heads together, jabbed another in the kidney with his foot, and when that one doubled over in pain, leapfrogged over his back to face another couple of the opposition.

All might not have gone well for him, however, unarmed as he was, if Baggybum the Beerbelly had not come to his aid. The two brothers, who had been fighting each other five minutes earlier, now fought the enemy back-to-back for the rest of the battle.

The "Battle on Board the Lucky Thirteen" would be a Saga that the Hooligans would tell their children and grandchildren for many, many years

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to come. The military prowess of the Outcast Tribe was legendary throughout the Viking World. But the Hooligans were desperate and angry. They were battling for their FREEDOM itself, and so fought more wildly, more fiercely, than perhaps they had ever done before or since.

No fewer than twenty Black Stars* were awarded to Warriors after the battle was over. No wonder, for the Pirate Fighting Skills on display on that occasion were a joy to watch. They were also a tribute to the old soldier, Gobber, who had taught most of the Warriors all that they knew. There, on one corner of the deck, was Nobber Nobrains, performing the highly skilled maneuver known as the Dance of the Axes, in which the pirate rapidly juggles two twirling axes from one hand to the other, hypnotizing and confusing the enemy, before the pirate lunges forward for the fatal blow.

Up around the mast were the boys from the Pirate Training Program, valiantly tackling Outcasts nearly twice their size, putting into practice all that

* The "Black Star" was a medal given to Hooligan Warriors for Outstanding Bravery in the Field of Combat.

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they had learnt during those Swordfighting at Sea lessons.

The behavior of Fishlegs was particularly surprising. As soon as the battle began, he completely lost control, throwing himself at the enemy, shrieking furiously and whirling his sword around his head like a madman.

Vikings call this "going Beserk" and Warriors who do this are revered in Viking society.

You could not imagine a more unlikely candidate for being a Beserk than Fishlegs, but there we are, these things are never predictable.

The Outcasts stayed out of his way, for a Beserk is always respected, even if he is only four foot ten with a squint and a limp and no swordfighting skills whatsoever.

It has to be admitted (reluctantly) that Snotlout fought with spectacular brilliance and bravery. His quick wrist made the Flashcut slip neatly in and out, hither and thither, beautifully performing the Destroyer's Defense, Grimbeard's Grapple, the Final Cut, and many, many more of the subtlest swordfighting skills. In the space of five minutes no fewer than three Outcasts lay dead around him,

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all much larger and heavier than himself. This is a schoolboy record that stands to this day.

I would love to say that Hiccup fought similarly splendidly. But I can't, because it wouldn't be true. Hiccup had dislocated his arm, remember, and his sword, the Stretchapoint, lay somewhere on the beach at the Isle of the Skullions. But Hiccup did what he could. With his quick left hand he picked a key out of Curly Horns's pocket while he fought Gobber the Belch. He used the key to unlock the chains of four or five Hooligans who had already been bound, ready for slavery, who then joined in the fight with the others.

Toothless created an extra diversion when he spilled out of the barrel, dizzy and confused, and bit the first hairy leg that he saw. Which happened to belong to a grossly fat Outcast, who promptly dropped the flare he had been carrying right in the open barrel of black-currant wine.

And Thor only knows what was IN that black-currant wine, but the entire barrel burst into flames.

The fire raged out of control.

The sail burned furiously, and thick black smoke poured over the deck.

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Everybody started jumping off the Lucky Thirteen in order to escape the flames.

Stoick belly flopped into the sea, and splashed over to the Outcast boat, the Hammerhead, where the pitched battle was continuing. As he climbed over the side of the Hammerhead, he turned back to his son and shouted, "Come ON, Hiccup!"