Ch 1. INTO THE BREACH
The dragon Saphira roared and the men before her quailed.
"With me!" shouted Eragon as he lifted Brisingr for all to see. "For the Varden!"
An arrow flew past him startling Arya for a second but he paid it no mind.
The warriors at the base of the mountain of rubble in which he and Saphira were standing atop of brandished their weapons and responded with a bellow. "The Varden!" they cried. Then the army charged deeper into the city of Belatona and engaged the opposition in combat.
Arya ran into a group of Galbatorix's soldiers gathered in a wide courtyard in front of a large, gloomy keep. Somewhere within, she knew, was the governor of Belatona, Lord Bradburn. Arya parried a thrust from one of the soldiers as she approached them and with incredible speed, faster than any human, dwarf, Urgal, or most elves, lopped off his head. She danced through the batallion slashing, stabbing, and blocking with ease as her long, black hair whipped furiously around her face. In a matter of minutes, half the group was slain by the elf princess.
With blue and yellow flames streaming from her maw, Saphira jumped and landed right beside Arya. The whole courtyard shook from the impact and the glass that formed a large mosaic in front of the keep shattered.
Leave some two-legs for the rest of us, Saphira said to her
Arya was slightly amused. Of course, Saphira. Take down as many as you wish.
Saphira let out a mighty roar and the windows in the surrounding buildings shattered.
Beside Saphira stood her Rider, Eragon. His smooth, angular face had a fierce expression on it. There was blood on his sword and all over his muscular arms.
His presence heartened Arya. She would not have anyone else fight alongside her; mainly because he was the best fighter she knew in the Varden besides herself and maybe Blödhgarm.
He loosened a quick smile at her and she responded in kind.
Arya ducked behind her shield as a sheet of blue fire appeared between them. Saphira bathed the soldiers with flames but it passed harmlessly around them. Archers on the battlements of the castle fired arrows at Saphira. Some of the arrows burst into fire midair while the wards Eragon placed around Saphira deflected the rest. He had placed wards around Arya as well. She had told him not to waste his own strength and that she was perfectly capable of taking care of herself but he would not listen.
Sometimes his feelings cloud his mind. Of course, it's Eragon. What else did I expect? She thought with a smile.
Saphira gave up on trying to burn the soldiers alive and snapped her jaw shut. The absence of the fire left the courtyard startlingly quiet.
Who has given the soldiers their wards? Arya wondered. It obviously was a powerful magician such as Murtagh or even Galbatorix himself. Why then isn't Murtagh and Thorn here to defend Belatona? Does Galbatorix want us to capture his entire empire and march straight to Urû'baen?
Pushing these thoughts aside, Arya joined Eragon on his right flank. They waded through the ranks of soldiers. The soldiers' reactions seemed slow and clumsly to Arya. She was able to slice through them as easily as a piece of cloth. Every swing of her sword signaled death for another servant of the Empire.
Behind them, Blödhgarm and his eleven spellcasters were also engaged in battle. They were sent by Arya's mother, Queen Islanzadi, to protect Eragon and Saphira, as they were their only hope to ever overthrowing the madman from his throne.
The battle soon swept her apart from Eragon and Saphira. A soldier tried to attack her with a spear, but she grabbed it out of his hands and thrust it into his gut. The arrows from the archers above were starting to irritate her. She looked up at them and said, " Deyja." Nothing happened. The soldiers' wards protected them from magical attacks.
Arya soon spotted Eragon again and fought her way to him. Eragon picked up a spear and tried to throw it at the archers but missed the entire line of archers. Arya held back a giggle. He needs some serious practice she thought. The archers on top laughed at Eragon and made rude gestures at him which angered Arya somewhat. She strode over next to Eragon, picked up a spear, and launched it at the archers impaling two of them who were standing close to each other. She then pointed at the spear with her sword and yelled "Brisingr!" and the spear erupted into green flames. The archers cowered away from the burning corpses and fled the battlements.
"That's not fair," Eragon said. "I can't use that spell, not without my sword flaring up like a bonfire."
Arya gazed at him, amused
The fighting continued for another few minutes. The remaining soldiers either surrendered or tried to flee. Some of the Varden had opened the gates in the outer wall and were hauling in a huge battering ram to the castle. Others were assembled next to the keep door to confront the soldiers within. Arya saw Eragon's cousin, Roran, among them giving commands to the group of soldiers under his command who followed his orders without question. He has the ability to lead Arya thought. Just like his cousin.
A roar of triumph from Saphira drowned out the clamor of the city.
Then suddenly from inside the castle, Arya heard the rattles of gears and chains and heavy wooden beams being drawn back. Everyone's gaze was now focused on the door.
With a boom, the doors swung open and a cloud of smoke from the torches inside billowed outside. Arya coughed and covered her face as did most of the Varden's soldiers.
Then, out of the smoke, came a horse and rider. The rider held some sort of lance in his left hand. It was made of a strange green material and had a barbed blade. A glow aurrounded the head of the lance and the presence of magic was clear. Arya gasped. She hoped the weapon was not what she thought it was.
The rider angled his horse toward Saphira. At that point Arya had no doubt that she knew what the weapon was. Saphira began to rear on her hind legs and kill the rider with a swipe of her paw. Arya knew she had to do something. Saphira's in danger she thought. Her wards won't protect her from this…this weapon. She was too far away to try to stop the rider so she resorted to magic. She started uttering a frenzied spell along with the elven spellcasters. The magic took effect and the mosaic in front of the horse stirred and shifted, and the chips of glass flowed like water. A crevice opened up in the ground and the horse pitched forward breaking its legs.
As the horse and rider fell, the man threw the lance at Saphira.
No! Arya mentally screamed.
Saphira could not run or dodge. She tried to knock it aside but she missed by a matter of inches and the lance sank at least a yard into her chest, underneath her collarbone. Blödhgarm then leaped over Saphira's left foreleg, jumped and the rider and knocked him over, and sank his white teeth into his throat.
Arya was slightly disgusted. He could have killed him with a sword or a spear. Or with magic instead or tearing into him like an animal. But her thoughts soon turned back to Saphira and she ran to the dragon's side along with Eragon and the other elves.
"How badly-Is she—" Eragon said, obviously too upset to complete his sentences. The elves started observing the damage to Saphira.
After a few moments, one of the elves, Wyrden, said, "You may thank fate Shadeslayer; the lance missed the major veins and arteries in her neck. It hit only muscle, and muscle we can mend."
"Can you remove it?" Eragon asked." Does it have any spells that would keep it from being-"
"We shall attend to it Shadeslayer," said Wyrden.
Arya and the other elves, save Blödhgarm, placed their hands on Saphira's breast and sang incantations of muscle and sinew and pulsing blood. Saphira uttered a long, low moan as the lance emerged from her body. The barbed blade fell to the ground and bounced against the stones.
Eragon ran to Saphira and asked,"All you alright?" Arya could plainly see that he was very worried about her. Saphira replied with a single blink, then lowered her head and caressed his face with a gentle puff of warm air.
Eragon smiled and then turned to Arya and the rest of the elves and said, "Eka elrun ono, alfya, wiol forn thornessa," thanking them in the ancient language for their help. The elves in turn bowed and twisted their right hands over the center of their chests.
Arya then rushed from Saphira's side and with Blödhgarm, went to inspect the lance. It was exactly what Arya had thought it was when she first saw it wielded in the rider's hand. She exchanged glances with Blödhgarm.
How can this be she wondered.
Eragon joined them after a few moments and squatted next to the lance, observing it carefully.
"Is it Galbaotrix's handiwork, do you think?" Eragon asked. "Maybe he's decided he would rather kill Saphira and me instead of capturing us. Maybe he believes we've actually become a threat to him."
Blödhgarm smiled an unpleasant smile. "I would not deceive myself with such fantasies, Shadeslayer. We are no more than a minor annoyance to Galbatorix. If ever he truly wanted you or any of us dead, he only needs to fly forth from Urû'baen and engage us directly in battle, and we would fall before him like dry leaves before a winter strength of the dragons is with him, and none can withstand his might. Besides, Galbatorix is not so easily turned from his course. Mad he may be, but cunning also, and above all else, determined. If he desires your enslavement, then he shall pursue that goal to the point of obsession, and nothing save the instinct of selfpreservation shall deter him."
"In any event," said Arya, "this is not Galbatorix's handiwork; it is ours."
Eragon frowned. "Ours? This wasn't made by the Varden."
"Not by the Varden, but by an elf."
"But—" he said. ""But no elf would agree to work for Galbatorix. They would rather die than—"
"Galbatorix had nothing to do with this, and even if he did, he would hardly give such a rare and powerful weapon to a man who could not better guard it. Of all the instruments of war scattered throughout Alagaësia, this is the one Galbatorix would least want us to have."
"Why?"
Böldhgarm responded this time. "Because, Eragon Shadeslayer, this is a Dauthdaert."
"And its name is Niernen, The Orchid," said Arya. She pointed at the elven glyphs carved into the blade.
"A Dauthdaert?"
Arya and Blödhgarm gave him look of incredulity. He's never heard of a Dauthdaert? Arya thought.
Eragon shrugged and said, "I could only do so much reading in Ellesméra. What is it? Was it forged during the fall of the Riders, to use against Galbatorix and the Forsworn?"
Blödhgarm shook his head. "Niernen is far, far older than that."
"The Dauthdaertya," said Arya, "were born out of the fear and the hate that marked the final years of our war with the dragons. Our most skilled smiths and spellcasters crafted them out of materials we no longer understand, imbued them with enchantments whose wordings we no longer remember, and named them, all twelve of them, after the most beautiful of flowers—as ugly a mismatch as ever there was—for we made them with but one purpose in mind: we made them to kill dragons."
"And did they?" Eragon asked. The revulsion his was probably feeling was clearly present in his facial expression.
"Those who were present say that the dragons' blood rained from the sky like a summer downpour."
Saphira hissed, loud and sharp.
"All of the Dauthdaertya were thought to have been destroyed or lost beyond recovery," said Blödhgarm. "Obviously, we were mistaken. Niernen must have passed into the hands of the Waldgrave family, and they must have kept it hidden here in Belatona. I would guess that when we breached the city walls, Lord Bradburn's courage failed him and he ordered Niernen brought from his armory in an attempt to stop you and Saphira. No doubt Galbatorix would be angry beyond reason if he knew that Bradburn had tried to kill you."
"Dauthdaert or not," Eragon said, "You still haven't explained why Galbatorix wouldn't want us to have this." He motioned toward the lance. "What makes Niernen any more dangerous than that spear over there, or even Bris—" he caught himself before he uttered the entire name, "or my own sword?"
It was Arya who answered. "It cannot be broken by any normal means, cannot be harmed by fire, and is almost completely impervious to magic, as you yourself saw. The Dauthdaertya were designed to be unaffected by whatever spells the dragons might work and to protect their wielder from the same—a daunting prospect, given the strength, complexity, and unexpected nature of dragons' magic. Galbatorix may have wrapped Shruikan and himself in more wards than anyone else in Alagaësia, but it is possible that Niernen could pass through their defenses as if they don't even exist."
Eragon started to say," We have to-"
A squeal interrupted him. The sound was stabbing, slicing, shivering, like metal scraping against stone. Arya's gaze swept over the courtyard and noticed a faint puff of dust rising up the wall of the keep from a foot-wide crack that had appeared beneath a blackened, partially destroyed window.
"Look!" Eragon shouted to Arya, who nodded in acknowledgment. Suddenly, the sound stopped.
The crack jerked open wider—spreading until it was several feet across—and raced down the wall of the keep. Like a bolt of lightning, the crack struck and shattered the keystone above the doors to the building, showering the floor below with pebbles. The whole castle groaned, and from the damaged window to the broken keystone, the front of the keep began to lean outward.
"Run!" Eragon shouted at the Varden, though the men were already scattering to either side of the courtyard, desperate to get out from under the precarious wall.
Arya was already bounding away from the wall. After she was out of harm's way, she turned around, looking for Eragon. She spotted him looking at the doorway and followed his gaze. She saw Roran who was being pelted with rocks and was forced to stumble backward under the overhang of the doorway.
He's not going to make It Arya thought.
A wry smile touched Roran's lips as he looked at Eragon.
Then the wall fell.