The night seemed to go on forever, perhaps pausing to make every minute seem like an eternity to those awake and uncomfortable beneath its watchful eye.
Eragon's watch had not gone as well as he had thought –although it seemed pretty much assured that no enemies were within the surrounding areas, the watch was extremely jumpy. Eragon had nearly been shot with an arrow after coming back from relieving himself. Only quick reflexes and magic saved him from becoming a target.
Eragon had only seen faint glimpses of Arya –it seemed as if she was dead set on avoiding another chance encounter with him. It bothered him slightly, but he was glad to note that the fear of being cast out was not as strong as it had been earlier in the year. At Ellesmera, Eragon had nearly died when Arya had avoided him like the plague. Now, though, he knew that he could prevail even without the elf around him.
After all, he had a Rider to train and the future of Alagaesia resting on his shoulders.
Saphira, from where she had been patrolling the skies high above him, took out enough time to croon gently in his mind, Congratulations, little one… you are growing up.
…
Dawn came around and the horses decided to canter about on their lines, nickering in an unsettled way and prancing about. This worried more than one of the guards and set them all on edge.
A quiet had settled over the entire camp. Everyone ate the thin gruel breakfast they were supplied with forced mouthfuls, eyes uneasily fluttering about. Only two figures moved through the crowd as if nothing had happened worthy of being worried: Angela the Witch and Trianna the sorceress.
Trianna had her mass of dark hair piled into an attractively messy pile atop of her head. She wore a crimson, plain dress that clung neatly to every curve and accenting every beautiful contour. Her blue eyes were left in stark relief against pale, flawless skin. Eragon felt his insides give a little shudder before he forced himself to stand. That sorceress would not trap him again –gods only knew what might happen.
He was nearly out of yelling range, so even if the sorceress did cry out to him he could feign ignorance. To his misfortunate luck, though, it was then when Arya turned the corner and ran directly into him, Abbila trailing behind the elf. Eragon stumbled backward, Arya letting out an unintelligible gasp of angered shock. "What do you think you are-" she began, but was cut off by a velvety voice.
"Oh, Eragon, it seems you were frighted away when I had come only to talk with you," someone purred behind him silkily. Trianna was standing there, dark lips gleaming in the sunlight. Eragon turned frustrated eyes from Arya to Trianna, wishing the earth would eat him up then and there. Abbila, in her adolescent innocence, had the grace to look confused.
Arya was glaring at the sorceress and Trianna simply smirked back at the elf. "Oh, my, did I interrupt something?" Trianna chortled. "Perhaps mother-elf Arya was scolding you for being out too late last night?"
The jibe was said playfully, but even Eragon could sense the undercurrent of competitiveness in the dark woman's voice. Arya sensed it, too, and her finely arched eyebrows narrowed over her emerald eyes. Instead of making a nasty scene, Arya murmured simply, "If I were a simple human with only mediocre magic skills, I would be quick to find my place in the pecking order. You might end up upsetting a very irritable foe."
Arya turned with that, making as if to walk in the direction she had come from. Trianna, though, would not take the taunt lying down. Anger flashed through her blue eyes and she called out, "I hope you are not referring to yourself, elf. You are no threat to me –Eragon would not allow it."
Eragon's eyes widened, looking at Trianna as if she had sprouted another head from her shoulder. He then turned to look over at Arya, who had halted. The elf's back was so still and straight that it looked painful. Arya turned her head, glancing over her shoulder, and said quite simply, "Not even Eragon could protect your pretty face from meeting my blade, sorceress."
Trianna said nothing else, simply smirked at the back of Arya's head as she disappeared. To Eragon, she murmured sweetly, "Such abhorred company you keep, Eragon. Have you thought of a muzzle to keep your pet elf calm?" She then turned her cold gaze to Abbila. "And what are you doing here?" she asked snappishly. "Do you not see this is an adult's conversation?"
Eragon had, at first, been much too shocked to say anything. First a verbal assault on Arya, and then one on his charge and the only other Rider the Varden had? What had gotten into Trianna? Finally he pulled himself together enough to say, "Abbila is enough of an adult to listen in on any conversation that happens to be practically yelled across the encampment. She is only a moon or two younger then myself –and do you fancy me a child?"
Trianna seemed to have deiced to slide things over as smoothly as possible with a, "Oh, no, Eragon… I never meant to imply-"
But Eragon would hear no more of it. He grabbed the clasp at the throat of her dress, pulling her closer to him rather roughly. She stumbled, blue eyes widening. "Listen to me, witch," he said as calmly as he could although his hands were shaking with anger. "If you ever threaten Arya again, I will deal with you myself. And as for Abbila… do not even glance in her direction, let alone speak to her, or I will take actions against you."
Trianna's eyes had gone from the pleading damsel-in-distress to anger. She glared sulkily at him and tore herself from his grip. "Do not touch me," she snapped before turning on her heel. She marched away, something strangely wounded about the way she walked.
Abbila looked up at Eragon, wonderment shining in her pale eyes. "Eragon, thank you…"
Eragon shook his head. "It was nothing. Go get Briam, we have a long ride ahead of us."
…
The entourage traveled deep into the night, even after there was no light to see by save for the torches nearly every man and woman held. They did not pause for rest until the lights at the front of the caravan flickered and faded out into nothingness. Even then, people did not waste time setting up tents. It would take much too long and they only had approximately five hours to rest. Why spend four of those setting up and breaking down tents?
Eragon stood watch again that night, nibbling on berries he and Abbila had found on their journey. Saphira had declared them safe for eating, and the guards had stocked up in order to sustain themselves through the night. Abbila was lying on the ground, resting against Briam's slick scales and fast asleep off to Eragon's left. He nibbled on another berry as one of the guardsmen mumbled something about needing to go to the restroom.
Gradually the other guards began to disperse –at first, Eragon hadn't noticed it. But then, when he was left by himself, he realized something was going on. He turned his head, glancing through the murk that seemed to separate before his superior vision. And there was Angela the Witch, smiling coyly at him.
Eragon sighed, feeling uneasy already. "What is it?"
Angela only shrugged. "Nothing, really. I simply came out here to say how courageous it was for you to go against Trianna. The entire encampment is buzzing with it… silently buzzing, but buzzing nonetheless."
Eragon was stunned. "Why have I not heard of all of this?"
Angela grinned. "Do you really think anyone wants to suffer your wrath after how you treated the sorceress?" She quirked an eyebrow before chuckling. "Oh, and Arya sends her salutations, as well. I have never seen her in such a spirited mood as she is this evening. If I didn't know better, I'd say she smiled while eating dinner with your cousin and his charming new bride."
Eragon frowned. "I have not visited with them in too long. I must find them tomorrow and spend at least an hour or so with them."
Angela shrugged again, as if it were unimportant. "They both know you are busy. Oh, but Arya also wished me to pass the word along to you –Katrina is pregnant."
He nearly choked on his berries. "What?" he gasped, his eyes widening with the horror of realization. "Ka… Katrina?"
"Hush!" Angela exclaimed with a laugh. "Yes, Katrina. What is so wrong with that? She will be safe enough in the castle walls –Orrin, no matter how bumbling a buffoon he is, will keep her well. He values love and children almost as much as he does science."
Eragon shook his head slowly, trying to come to terms with his thoughts. He was not even seventeen yet and he was to be an uncle! "How did this come to light?"
"Katrina asked Arya if she would use her magic to feel for a child within the womb. It is hardly a difficult procedure, especially for one so talented in bodily spells as Arya. She used her powers and found a developing child, just newly borne, and caused the mother nothing but a faint tickle."
Eragon shook his head, glancing up to the sky. "Roran surely wastes no time," Eragon murmured, sighing.
Angela smiled again and Eragon knew just before she opened her mouth that he should not have said that. "I am sure the master Eragon wouldn't waste any time with his bride, either."
Eragon felt fire rising to his cheeks and he snapped, "Do you not have something more important to do then torment me?"
Angela laughed. "As it so happens, I do. Solembum and I have some business to attend to this night. Until the morning, Rider!" she called, still chuckling as she turned and marched away.
Eragon sighed, turning his attention to the sky. If he concentrated hard enough, he could pick out the slowly circling shape of Saphira, ever vigilant.
…
Katrina was bubbling with excitement during the week's remainder of the trip. Roran was, as well, but he was able to keep a hold of himself and march in relative silence with the others of the caravan.
The soldiers and fighters were hardly good company for the womenfolk such as Abbila and Katrina, but they were more than suitable for Eragon and Roran. A sort of gossip line had started, where the men at the front would relay their fears and suspicions down the line to the others. Then, at the back an answer or opinion would be passed forward, each new person adding in parts of their own. It took close to an entire day for the whole message to spread from each man, but it was an effective way to keep the men's minds at ease.
Arya took to weaving in and out of the men, moving from one battalion to another as if making sure ranks could be formed if need be. Eragon had watched her work tirelessly and without complaint with admiration before Saphira landed close by, startling a few new foot soldiers.
Come flying with me, little one. Briam and Abbila are already in the air. They believe they spot the spires of Borromeo castle.
This was some of the best news Eragon could have been told. "Perfect. Fly me over to Nasuada's line first, Saphira, so I might tell her," he ordered, climbing onto her back with easy agility.
Saphira lifted into the air, beating her massive wings thrice before making a low-flying sprint toward the front of the line. Nasuada rode on an impressive steed covered in purple plumes. Orrin rode beside her, looking eagerly around at the impressive flora.
Saphira touched down in front of them and easily kept pace with their horses while Eragon turned to speak. "My lady," he began, making the best bow he could muster on the back of a moving dragon, "and my lord… the turrets of Borromeo castle are within sight."
Nasuada looked relieved whereas Orrin was delighted.
"Perfect!" Orrin cried out. "If your liege lord will allow it, might you fly ahead and tell them we are approaching? I believe we should be there by nightfall if your words are true."
Nasuada nodded. "Yes, please do. And see that we may have the back courtyard and some of the battlements for our men to sleep in. We are all weary and need much rest."
"Of course my lady, my lord." He made another stiff, informal bow and urged Saphira into the air. It was time to visit the castle of King Orrin once again.
…
The guards seemed to recognize Saphira as the same dragon who startled them a month previously when she landed on the main turret. Eragon held up his hands with a well placed, "Eka aí friai un Shur'tugal!" and all motion halted.
"Is that the Rider Eragon?" someone called from the assembled crowd of guards. Slowly the crossbows were lowered and swords were put away.
"Aye!" Eragon called out. "I am the one called Eragon. I have lighted here upon the battlement only two fortnights ago! I come to bring news that your King Orrin, as well as the leader of the Varden, Nasuada, will be here no later than tomorrow morning."
There was a mixed response. Some openly cheered while others looked confused as to what they should do now. Finally a finely dressed man, probably an advisor or chief of staff, stepped forward. His bald head gleamed in the sunlight and he murmured, "Come down from there, Rider, and come inside. Let your dragon prowl the land for meat and we shall treat you to a meal."
The offer was tempting, but Eragon found himself declining. "Forgive me for what may seem like impudence," Eragon began, thankful now for the time spent in Ellesmera –if nothing else, it had broadened his vocabulary. "But my place belongs at my liege's side. We shall meet again very soon."
The bald man bowed stiffly, murmuring, "As it please you, Rider. Astra esterni ono thelduin," he added, raising a hand in a farewell.
Eragon repeated the phrase, making the identical hand motion to the man, before Saphira rose to the air with a lurch.
Author's Note:
Urg. Life has me down, down, down. But what else is new?
Cheer me up with a review!
Love love,
Eternity