For Alagaesia: 72. A meeting with the traitors

The forest around the palace was suffocating. Thorn and Murtagh had left her in a portion of the vast ruined palace which seemed less sinister than the other portions. The place had only been in ruins for twenty years. But it seemed like it had been absorbed into the wilderness far earlier than that. The other way to think of it was comparing it with Eragon – the dragon rider’s birth coincided with the fall of the palace and its lord. When seen from that angle, it only felt right that the palace had changed a lot because in these twenty years Eragon had grown into some sort of a guiding light to Alagaesia’s populace.

During nights – two of which she had spent alone now – in the palace, strange sounds were heard making her wonder if she had made the right choice. Her aim had been to help Murtagh and Thorn. But how could she do that when they were away in Uru'baen and she was rotting in this forsaken mansion? Besides, following the dragon rider of the empire with the aim of helping him seemed like the unlikeliest thing her father would have done. Perhaps, it was not about following her father step-for-step. Perhaps it was about keeping to the same direction as her father. In her mind, her decision to leave the Varden was still in keeping with her father's aim: overthrow of Galbatorix.

Sighing, she took her mind off the hopeless moral pursuit and concentrated instead on her surroundings. The sun was fast setting forming fearsome shadows in the palace grounds. This was going to be her third night alone in the palace. The stocks of dried meat and bread Murtagh had brought her were at an end and she was seriously contemplating about exploring the surroundings of the palace for food.

Even as she prepared herself to face whatever it was that made the strange and sinister noises, she heard the flapping of wings. The winds arising from the wing beat buffeted the ground wordlessly announcing that a dragon was arriving. By instinct Nasuada took cover behind a huge boulder and closed off her mind from the surroundings.

“Nasuada” Murtagh’s voice called to her. “Where are you?”

An involuntary 'humph' escaped her in relief and she came out of hiding. Seeing Murtagh’s tired visage, she frowned. He always looked like an exhausted horse that had run a hundred leagues without stop when he came back from a visit with Galbatorix. “What did Galbatorix wish of you?” She asked.

Murtagh looked down at her with pain written all over his face. “The world is changing around us Nasuada. The defeat of the Varden looks more certain than ever and I fear that I am going to be bound to him for eternity.” He said sadly.

The dejection she deduced in Murtagh’s demeanour made her sympathise with him. “Why? What is wrong?” She asked softly.

“Galbatorix yesterday used Elva to torture the captured elf. Even I from my quarters in the far corner of the palace could hear the elf’s screams. The king is playing with the elf. He uses Elva’s powers to break the elf’s mental balance rather than to get information directly out of him. Only Eragon has withstood such an assault as far as I know and I don’t think the elf will last another week. Soon the locations of every elven city will be known to the king.” Murtagh said melancholically.

Nasuada closed her eyes in utter misery. She had seen firsthand what Elva was capable of and in Galbatorix’s hands a power such as hers would magnify a hundred times.

“The elven strongholds are the last true remaining resistance against Galbatorix. I know that too well. If only the mad king comes out riding his dragon and Eragon fails to kill him, in a matter of days, Surda, the Varden and the dwarves would fall.” She said.

Murtagh bit his lower lip and exhaled heavily. Then in an angry murmur he said, “I fear that the last race defying Galbatorix is also about to fall. It all now seems like a plot of the king. He wanted to lure the elves out of their forest by creating a false impression of weak defence of his cities against the Varden. We have all fallen prey to his scheme.”

Nasuada smiled despite the gloom surrounding their talk. “Not exactly, Murtagh.” She said. “What do you suppose was our plan? We just wanted to lure the king out of Uru’baen to give Eragon a chance of facing Galbatorix. I think we have succeeded in it. Our fate is now in your brother’s hands alone.”

“Not even he can defeat that man. Eragon may have the spirit but he doesn’t possess the power required to overcome the Eldunari of Galbatorix.” Murtagh said in a brooding voice.

“You may be able to help him with that.” Nasuada suggested. She was very much aware of the Eldunari in Murtagh’s possession and she truly hoped that with Murtagh’s help maybe Eragon could overcome Galbatorix.

“Me?” Murtagh asked in a self-loathing tone. It seemed like he did not understand what she meant. Nasuada looked expectantly at him willing him to get the meaning behind her words.

Murtagh frowned in thought and creases lined his forehead. “The Eldunari?” He asked finally with an air of hopelessness. “The Eldunari with me will be of no use against Galbatorix. They answer only to him and they help me only because he has forced them to. They are mad anyway. They don’t recognise friend from foe. The only thing they understand is Galbatorix and they don’t have a choice in that matter.”

Nasuada nodded in silent agreement. Their doom seemed more certain now. What could mere humans do against the might of dragons and magic?

“There is always a choice,” said a familiar voice in a deathly cold tone from somewhere above them.

Startled and shocked, Nasuada jerked her head up to see the silhouette of Eragon, standing atop a tall wall. Thorn – who was unused to being caught unawares, thanks to his keen hearing and sense of smell – snapped his head up at hearing the voice and breathed a huge torrent of fire. The fiery red fire passed around Eragon harmlessly. He stood like a guarding sentry in the midst of the fire. From somewhere outside the palace a roar resounded challenging the one who had dared throw fire at Eragon: Saphira was there too. The two of them had snuck up on the unsuspecting Thorn, Murtagh and Nasuada with the precision of elves.

“There is always a choice.” Eragon repeated and jumped down from the high wall over which he was standing. For a moment Nasuada feared that Eragon would fall to his death for the wall was nearly hundred feet high. But as he landed he rolled and was on his feet in seconds. She looked at him in worry and amazement. Maybe he was not ready to defeat Galbatorix but he was the strongest man she had ever met and the stupidest. He eyed Nasuada as if it was she who had done something incredibly stupid.

“Come. Let us go to the Varden.” Eragon said holding out his hand for her to take.

Her worry turned to desperation. She had known that she would have to face Eragon again sometime but she had hoped that it would be a long while later. She had hoped that Roran could keep Eragon away from her. But she should have guessed. Eragon was the most stubborn of the three members of the Carvahall family that now controlled the fate of Alagaesia. His stubbornness had helped in resisting even Galbatorix – what were Roran’s words to him?

She sighed heavily and looked up at Eragon. “I made my choice three days ago, Eragon. I am not changing it now.”

Anger flashed across his face. But he controlled it so quickly that Nasuada doubted if ever the emotion crossed his face at all. “Your place is not among traitors.” He said in the same cold voice he had used before.

Nasuada frowned. Was she imagining it or was he behaving so much like Arya? And then she remembered – he had changed. Ever since he came back from Uru’baen he had been behaving like this. It was only that she had forgotten.

“You are needed at the Varden. To lead the men against the enemy.” Eragon said.

“You should listen to him.” Murtagh backed Eragon: always eager to get rid of her.

For one moment it seemed that the old Eragon was back: the one who wore his emotions on his sleeve for he glowered murderously at Murtagh. But the next he was back to his old cold self, eyeing Nasuada.

“Eragon, please,” she pleaded, “don’t be angry at Murtagh for this. You already have a lot of grudge against him.”

Eragon still kept his hand aloft and signalled her to take it.

“Leave me Eragon. My duties and position have changed. I am a dead woman now.” She said looking at a wall for she did not wish to speak as such on Eragon’s face.

“What about your dream? Our dream of a free Alagaesia?” Eragon asked. She could feel a hint of emotion in his voice now. But she wished she hadn’t felt it for he sounded hurt.

“I am still fighting for freedom. Only the object of my attention has changed.” She replied eyeing Thorn who stood calm by her side.

“Individuals have to seek their freedom by themselves.” Eragon seethed. “Trying to free somebody who does not want to be freed is madness.”

Nasuada smiled: a gloomy forlorn smile and said, “Seeking and gaining are two entirely different things. I will help them gain it.”

“Roran or I did not need help to free ourselves from the iron grip of the king.” Eragon replied in a distant voice.

“You did not? Think, Eragon… You had all the help in the world from Saphira and Roran had help from you. Tell me who even tried to help Murtagh?” She asked angry that Eragon would think so little of Murtagh’s plight.

Eragon’s right fist was clenched tight and his lower lip was twitching. Yet he remained silent without making any reply.

Nasuada eyed him cautiously – his deadly look at Murtagh playing on her mind. But she could not control her tongue. “Murtagh and Thorn were shunned by all of us just because they were beyond our help. What kind of people are we, if we can’t even help a dragon and his rider when they are in dire straits? And what kind of a brother you are if you can’t understand the distress of your own brother?”

Eragon’s eyes shimmered in the setting sun. His hands seemed to tremble in rage. He closed his eyes for a second and a tear drop fell from it. “We deserve to rot in hell.” He said as if to himself and Nasuada could not shake off the feeling that he was thinking about some earlier conversation.

And then, all of a sudden, Eragon let out a blood curling yell and landed a mighty punch with his calloused hand on the wall. A huge chunk of stone fell apart from the wall. Blood poured from Eragon’s hand. The oddly hard skin of his hand was completely torn off and a broken bone protruded from his fist. Nasuada looked on in shock but she dared not near Eragon. Saphira roared from outside the castle and in a matter of seconds was seen flying overhead.

Murtagh though did not hesitate like her. He leapt forward, took Eragon’s hand in his and tried to heal it. But Eragon pushed him away and punched Murtagh’s face with his injured hand.

“Why?” Eragon screamed at Murtagh – whose nose was bleeding from Eragon’s assault. “What did I ever do to you?”

Murtagh did not heal himself but rather stood his ground looking Eragon right in the eye. Eragon punched him again, this time on the chest and Murtagh spluttered blood. Even Thorn did not try to stop Eragon. “Why do you torment me so?” Eragon asked.

Eragon continued hitting Murtagh and the elder brother never even tried to get away from the younger’s attack. Blood covered Murtagh’s face and shirt. Nasuada could not say whether it was Eragon’s or Murtagh’s. She didn’t care to know – all she saw was a mad Eragon attacking a willing Murtagh. She screamed at Eragon to stop but he was in no condition or mood to hear her. Thorn remained unmoving as if he were a statue, making Nasuada fear that Murtagh may lose his life to Eragon’s madness.

Much to her surprise, it was Saphira who came to Murtagh’s rescue. She flew down swiftly and pushed Eragon down to the ground. He did not struggle like she had expected. He simply fell to the ground like an exhausted lion after a failed hunt. Only now did she notice the streaks of tears that ran down Eragon’s cheeks – he had been crying all the while, not just screaming in rage.

The great blue dragon then turned her attention towards Nasuada. She could not withstand the intensity of the stare thrown her way and so bent her head down. ‘You,’ Saphira said, ‘why did you do this?’

“I needed peace.” Nasuada replied shortly.

‘Look around you. In your search for peace, you have condemned others to anguish.’

“It was not my intention.”

‘Intentions do not rule the consequences.’

“I am sorry. I am so sorry to have caused everybody pain.” Nasuada said softly eyeing Eragon who seemed to have regained control of his emotions. “I only wanted to pull myself out of the hell I had willingly fallen into.”

Saphira scrutinised Nasuada for a long moment, half of which she spent avoiding the blue dragon's eyes. The rest of it was spent staring back at Saphira as she felt it would be wrong to be insecure about her decision to leave the Varden. Saphira dropped eye contact finally and turned towards Thorn.

As the two dragons beheld each other, the air around them seemed to heat up. Nasuada realised only now that the two dragons were meeting for the first time in a non-combat situation. Saphira who was nearly seven months Thorn's elder seemed smaller in size although not much difference could be found between the two. The red dragon held Saphira's stare without any seeming difficulty. It looked like the dragons were exchanging silent words. She was told by experts in dragon lore that wordless communication was the strongest asset of dragons. She wondered what was happening between the two dragons. Maybe they were sizing each other up. But from their respective stances, it was clear that Saphira was the one calling the shots.

‘You cost one of the greatest dragons to have ever lived the use of his body. I will never forgive you for that.’ Saphira said finally confirming Nasuada's doubts that the dragons had been communicating wordlessly.

Thorn maintained eye contact with Saphira even after those words and even said back, ‘I did not kill Glaedr. I could not – because he was a lot more talented than me even without his leg. It was Galbatorix who took hold of my body and slew your master when he was in grief.’

Saphira did not make any reply for a long while. By then, Eragon had come to stand by Saphira with a look of anger mixed with shame written over his face. But the expression lasted only for a few seconds after which the passive countenance was back on his face. He was his usual self again – closed and mysterious. At least this way, he was not dangerous.

‘I cannot accept any of your explanations.’ Saphira said in an oddly calm voice. ‘But take care of this mad woman. In the two years that I have known her, I have grown to respect and care for her. She is your burden now. I will hold you responsible for her fate. The way you take care of her will tell me the truth about your claims on Glaedr Ebrithil.’

Thorn dipped his head and said, ‘I have already promised on my life to Roran that I will take care of Nasuada’s safety and I reiterate that promise to you.’

‘My opinion of you will depend on the way you keep this promise.’ Saphira said looking not at Thorn but at Nasuada.

Nasuada could not describe the cause of the lump that formed in her throat. She could only bow her head in respect and admiration before Saphira.

‘Come Eragon. Let us go to the Varden.’ Saphira called to her rider.

“You should have come with me.” Eragon said looking at Nasuada. He sounded warm so much like the Eragon she had known before.

Nasuada smiled at him and said, “We will meet again, Eragon.”

Eragon swiftly climbed onto Saphira’s saddle wincing as he gripped her neck scales with his injured hand. Once seated in the saddle, he turned towards Thorn and nodded once. The red dragon dipped his head in response and said, ‘Go to the Varden. They need you now.’ Murtagh cleared his throat in an attempt to get Eragon’s attention, but the younger man did not seem to notice.

“Fly Saphira” Eragon said and looked at Nasuada for one last time.

Most surprisingly, Saphira turned her eyes towards Murtagh and a look of pity crossed her features. She was gone in a second though – rising in the wind like an arrow released from a well-trained archer’s bow – making it hard to tell if the expression came upon her face at all.

Author’s Note:

Sorry for the late update yet again. I am a lazy idiot. This was the first meeting between Thorn and Saphira where the two of them are not trying to kill each other and it has taken nearly 1.80 books after Thorn was first introduced in Eldest. Also Eragon has finally vent his pent up anger at Murtagh. Hope you liked it.