For Alagaesia: 42. The gamble

Rubbing her eyes, Nasuada woke up from yet another bad night's sleep. Ever since, Belatona was taken, she had not had complete rest.There always was a critical problem to be faced and overcome, the latest of which was spending the three-four months of cold winter at Dras-Leona.

On the surface, the rest seemed welcome giving the Varden a much-needed break from constant war. But on retrospection, Nasuada had serious doubts about spending the time idly except for fortifying the acquired lands. The rest would not only help enable the Varden to collect themselves but also the empire to regroup.

Ever since that thought entered her mind, quite abruptly after the departure of Eragon, Saphira and Arya, she had been restless, planning in her mind a means to keep the empire occupied with the Varden for the duration of the winter and if possible further weakening the foul King's army. A whole day's deliberations had eventually paid off and a rough plan materialised in her mind. But the plan was wrought with serious risks especially with the absence of her best warriors: Eragon and Saphira and her best war tactician: Arya. Not to mention, Eragon's surprisingly sharp battle plans and Arya's well-known valiance with the sword. Together those three were the greatest assets of the Varden and they were away from it now.

She had tried to make atleast Eragon and Saphira stay, but their reasoning for leaving the Varden was good enough that she could not deny them, their request. Just as the human race's fate lay in the hands of the Varden, the dragon race's fate now lay on the hands of the last dragon in all of existence: Saphira. She couldn't find it in herself to stop a dragon and her rider from wanting to help the dragon race. She had heard far too many tales of the great dragons of the old-days from her father, to ignore a dragon's wish to find a friend of her own race. Further, their errand had the potential to warrant her acceptance: a chance at getting another dragon and rider to fight alongside the Varden, however outside the chances for it happening were.

In her mad search for a device to stop the empire from gaining from the rest, she had decided that offence would be the best defence against Galbatorix. It wasn't a new idea to her. It was afterall, her decision to launch a full-scale battle on the empire even before Eragon and Saphira were trained enough to fight Galbatorix. She had always believed in that principle. It wasn't some outlandish idea either: it was as primal, a behaviour as any basic human emotion: when pushed against a corner, pounce on the one who who pushed you to the corner. Galbatorix had pushed the Varden to the corner by attacking Farthen Dur and so the Varden under Nasuada had pounced on him and tore away a half of Galbatoirx's kingdom.

Deciding on her plan resolutely, she hurriedly finished her morning chores and employed one of her night-hawks to bring Roran to her quarters. Then she waited. In her mind she carefully re-analysed her reasons for arriving the decision she had arrived to be sure to herself that her choice was the right one. It didn't strike her as a absolutely correct decision to make but like the decision she had made to send Eragon to Farthen Dur for the dwarf king's selection, it seemed to be one that would bring huge advantage to the Varden, if it succeeded. At the current position of the Varden, risk-taking or chance-taking was the only viable option by which the Varden could hope to win the war. So she firmly decided upon following her plan.

The night-hawk outside her room, announced the arrival of Roran Stronghammer. Nasuada perfected her argument, in her mind for she knew that Roran would be a far more difficult candidate to convince than Eragon especially because Roran was nearly an equal to her in the Varden's ranks whereas Eragon, however high, his position was, was her vassal.

"My lady", Roran said and bowed in a formal way. Then he asked, good naturedly, "How fare thee this morning?"

"I am as fine as can be expected in such a crucial juncture in our campaign, Stronghammer. Thank you."

"May I know why you sought my presence?"

"Stronghammer, I have urgent matters to discuss with you. Please be seated. Our discussion may take a while."

Roran calmly walked forward and seated himself on a chair opposite the one Nasuada was sitting on. He waited, to Nasuada’s surprise, for her to speak. She had not thought Roran to be a man of patience given his deeds. But from the near-concerned look on his face Nasuada could deduce that Roran had guessed her double-mindedness. She hurriedly rerun the discussion that had panned in her mind once again and with a clearing of her throat, said, “What do you think are the chances of our victory in the war, Commander?”

Roran looked at her incredulously as if she had asked something wrong. After a while of such silence, he answered, “Do you really expect me to respond, my lady? This is a question that I, or anyone for that matter, cannot answer you. Not even Galbatorix, as mad as he is, can reply to a question like this. If you still want a reply, I can only say that I will do all in my power to ensure our victory.”

“Would you be willing to risk a few things to get a better chance of victory?”, Nasuada asked venturing as carefully as she could into the topic of their discussion.

“As long as the risk involved is not so great as to jeopardize our entire mission.”, came the sharp reply.

“Then let me assure you that the risk isn’t that great.”

“What are you speaking about, my lady?”, Roran asked, suspicion evident in his voice.

“I have a few suggestions to make, Stronghammer and would like your opinions on them.”

“I am always ready to help you, my lady. But why not ask of this to King Orik? He is much more experienced and adept at politics than me.”, Roran said.

Nasuada liked this down-to-earth and modest attitude of Roran. As the commander pointed out, Orik was surely a much better choice than Roran, if she had been discussing politics. But as she wasn’t in any mood to discuss petty politics and as Orik’s allegiances rested with the dwarves, she wasn’t ready to invite the dwarf king into this discussion. Yet.

 “You are probably right, commander. But I intend to speak matters relating to military and not politics and I would really like to know what my commander thinks of this before I divulge the proposal to the rest of the alliance.”

“You honour me, my lady.”, Roran said with a grace that signified his growth as a diplomat aside from his tremendous growth as a military leader. Nasuada didn’t reply to Roran but rather started thinking about how to speak out about her plan.

“How do you think this winter-lay in Dras-Leona would affect our chances?”, she asked finally.

“It is hard to say, my lady. Benefits will be reaped by both sides. Our soldiers can rest after this long and arduous half-year while Galbatorix would get time to rethink his strategies that have obviously not paid-off for him.”, Roran answered after a small silence.

“What if we could stop Galbatorix from thinking about his strategies?”

“How? I don’t see how we can do that unless we attack his capital in this biting cold, a decision I would personally resist if ever you were to make.”, Roran said with conviction.

Nasuada chuckled despite herself. “You are really the people’s hero that the Varden sees you as, aren’t you?”, she asked good naturedly.

“But your extremely disagreeable guess was very close to my actual suggestion.”

Roran greeted her with a confused look.

“How does a city survive, commander?”, she asked inviting further confusion on Roran’s face. Nevertheless, he answered her dutifully, “Through the supplies of food and other basic amenities.”

“Right, you are, commander. What if we starve Uru’baen?”, Nasuada asked sharply. This time Roran wasn’t confused as before but his face carried a searching look. Finally, he said, ”But how, my lady? How can we cut-off the supplies when the major chunk of Galbatorix’s lands still remain in his control?”

“Those lands shall be as useless as that of ours in winter, Stronghammer. The only useful lands are on the other side of the spine along the coast and in the south which we have already occupied. Galbatorix and his empire will depend on supplies from the coastal cities during the winter. The capital city’s reserves are never enough to support Uru’baen’s vast army. I know it for a fact from Jeod who until recently was one of the most influential merchants on Teirm, as you know quite well.”

“My lady, Do you mean to say that we block the supplies midway?”, Roran asked.

“No, commander. I propose an even better plan. That we attack and capture Teirm.”

Roran openly gasped.“But, my lady. The only way through the Spine in the winter is the woadark lake valley which is now guarded by the empire soldiers quite heavily. The shape of that valley will put us at a severe disadvantage in the fight, not to mention we don't have Eragon and Saphira to tip the battle in our favour. Trying to cross the spine through any other way in winter is suicide.", he said.

"I know, Roran. That is why I sought your help. If there is anybody who could mobilise and lead an army to attack Teirm this winter, it is you.", Nasuada said.

"I could try, my lady. I can see your point. Taking Teirm would leave the empire with no supplies while, we can easily use the sea to get those supplies for ourselves. Teirm is a great city; the greatest of Galbatorix's aside from Uru'baen and having possession of it will make a statement to Galbatorix, besides engaging his army and thoughts in the winter when there is supposed to be rest to be had. Success in such a mission will more or less seal the fortunes in our favour. But success cannot be guaranteed and it is too risky even to attempt. We are looking at the prospect of losing an entire trained army. Taking down Teirm isn't as easy a job as it was with Belatona and Dras-Leona even if we somehow manage to cross the Spine for it has extensive defensive mechanisms, built into it."

"Just tell me this Roran: will you lead the campaign or should I take it up myself?", Nasuada asked. She had made her mind up. Whatever the situation, the Varden would go through with her plan to attack and capture Teirm. If Roran wasn't willing to lead then she wouldn't force it upon him for she could do it herself. It already was a long time since she had lead from the front in a war as injury from the trial of long knives had prevented her from going into war. But now that she was completely healed of the wounds but for the ugly scars that remained (which she loathed to have; but did nevertheless for the sake of the support of the nomads), she could very well lead the Varden into war.

Roran stared at her like he wasn't believing what he was hearing. 'Yes, Roran. I can be this stubborn.', She thought to herself in slight amusement. After a long silence Roran nodded as if to himself and said with pent-up breath, "I shall take up this mission, my lady." Then he sighed. He was obviously not yet fully convinced, but she would take it for she knew once committed to a task, there wasn't anyone in the whole of the Varden who would get it done like Roran. Not even Eragon and Arya were as adept at that art as him. She herself wasn't capable of it in entirety: she knew it.

"I entrust to you, the campaign to bring Teirm back under the rule of better men, Roran Stronghammer. Take whomever you wish with you. I will be awaiting good news from you.”, she said in relief and happiness. With Roran accepting to lead a campaign, she was sure of the success of the campaign unless he dies. She shuddered at such a thought. Neither the Varden nor Eragon could afford such a loss. It would be utter mayhem for the Varden if anything like that happened and for all of Eragon's devoid-of-emotion ways, she knew how he had gone with his cousin to rescue his cousin's would-be, risking every single one of his other goals. If Eragon retained even a bit of that love for Roran, he would be broken if anything were to happen to Roran. Resolutely, she pushed aside such thoughts and simply considered how important to the Varden, Roran had become in mere months after his arrival. 'Just like my father.', she thought. Ajihad had of course been a new arrival at the Varden when he was chosen to lead the rebel group.

Roran stood and bowed to her before taking leave. When he had moved a few paces ahead, she suddenly remembered Katrina.

"Have you spoken to Katrina lately, Stronghammer?", she asked.

Roran turned around in a hurry at the mention of his wife's name. Nasuada was always amazed at the devotion the husband and wife had for each other. She was even jealous of them for sharing such a intimate relationship.

"Yes, my lady. An hour ago.", Roran replied.

"How is she?"

"She is fine, my lady. She enquired after your health and state since Jormundur's demise.", Roran said.

'How sweet of her to remember our short friendship?', Nasuada thought. In her mind, Katrina rose a notch up  among the noble persons she knew and was friends with.

"Oh... When next you talk to her, please convey my wishes for her happiness and tell her that I miss her company terribly."

Roran looked moved and surprised at such intimacy between his leader and wife. "I will, my lady.", he said and left her with a slight bow for the sake of etiquette.

Nasuada sat back on her chair tiredly and allowed her head to rest on the table. Afterall, the mission may yet be a suicide-trip and she was sending her most talented war-chief into death. Death. How cruel was that word? It was only about two years since her father’s death, when Jormundur, who in more ways than one, was like her father was cruelly murdered by Galbatorix’s pet magicians. Now she had to worry for the life of a young trusted man who had taken up Jormundur’s position just five days ago. What made her worry the most was the fact that Roran’s wife was pregnant and Katrina was one of her best friends. If anything were to happen to Roran … Guilty feelings plagued her mind. She wished with all her heart that her father was still alive and would guide her through the right path and tell if she was right to send Roran on the dangerous mission that she was sending him on.

Her mood was further damaged by the lingering thoughts about Jormundur whom she had thought would stand by her as her father. The days in her childhood when Jormundur had told her stories to make her sleep, when Ajihad was busy with political meetings filled her thoughts. But that had been long ago when she was not more than eight or nine. In the later years of her life, they had not been great friends, mainly because she had distanced herself from the others in her wild need for independence. But even after such vast distance in their friendship, she had shed tears when Jormundur had been killed. Only after the man was dead did she realise how much she missed his wise head and loving demeanour. It had been like losing her father all over again.

For that and various other reasons, she hated magic and its users. Great leaders and lords like Jormundur and Ajihad had been killed by the doings of the magic-wielders. Moving around them was like running through a rose bush: the roses being the power brought to the Varden by Eragon, Arya and the elves and the thorns being the threat posed by magic-wielding Murtagh and Galbatorix.

‘What if this business of magic wasn’t there atall? What if the battle field was level and each person fought fairly?’ Those had been her thoughts ever since she witnessed the death of her father at the hands of the magically-manipulated Urgals. Magic was severely maiming her ability to take control over proceedings. It was so unpredictable that even valiant and experienced war-lords like Jormundur couldn’t stand against it.

With such disturbing thoughts, she began her long day of fortifications and more land occupations. It was now a norm. Not a day of rest was to be had. Not even in the winter. The captured lands had to be fortified while the nearby lands had to be brought under the Varden’s control, until, she could be sure that no amount of attacks from the empire could take away the city of Dras-Leona and the other cities to its south from the Varden’s control.

“Genesh-vodhr”, she called one of her night-hawk guards whose numbers had now swollen to eight with the addition of two elven guards and asked, “Could you contact Blodhgarm to know of the status of the village of Fordleston?"

Author's note:

Well, something new with Nasuada. And with Roran. They do their bit in the war as Eragon, Saphira and Arya do theirs. But is it a wise move?