For your convenience I will, from now on, include the definitions of all the Ancient Language words I use at the bottom of the page, even the words that if you don't what they mean you really should not be reading this series.
Nasuada stood nearly as fast as Eragon did. "Do you know his intent?" Elva shrugged, as if she thought the situation was hardly worthy of such attention.
"He's just a messenger. As near as I can tell Galbatorix placed a spell on him that will kill him as soon as his message is delivered. Poor man. He believes that Galbatorix's spell will not kill him if he delivers the message. Trickery on Galbatorix's part, no doubt. His death can be stopped; if you hurry." Nasuada swept out of the tent, followed by Eragon.
"Do you suppose you can stop Galbatorix's spell," Nasuada asked him as they were making their way to the far corner of the camp.
"Perhaps. It doesn't take as much to kill someone as you think, Lady Nasuada, epically with magic. The killing spell could reside in any cell in his body."
Nasuada stopped atop a large hill that separated the Empire's and the Varden's armies. Lithe as forest mountain cats Arya and Blodhgarm ran up to Eragon and Nasuada.
"We sensed danger," the black blue elf said in a song-like voice. Arya raised her arm and pointed, indicating she had seen the man. About a mile away a lone figure trudged along on horseback. His attire was completely black, which Eragon wondered how he stood. Given the hot day and the blazing sun the man must have been burning. His right arm was pushed into his black cloak, as if he were bleeding. The four of them waited on the hill as the man approached. Instead of stopping a safe distance from the camp he went through the gates and up to Nasuada and Eragon, stopping ten or so yards away. He jumped off his horse and took a deep breath. Turning to them he pulled his mask off.
The man was bare chinned with light blue eyes and a high nose. He looked barely older than twenty. He pulled out his hand to reveal a scroll that he clutched with so much force his fingers turned white. In a wobbling voice he said, "The Rider Murtagh bay me give this to you." He extended the scroll to Eragon. After casting several wards about him Eragon stepped forward and took it. He gripped the man by his wrist.
"I can help you," he said softly. "The spell cast on you will kill you wither you deliver this message or not."
Fear came into the man's eyes and his pupils shrank. "I don't believe you," he said, his voice indicating he himself wished that were true.
"Believe me, Naìyar." The man's arm stiffened as Eragon said his name.
"How do you know my name," he asked, frightened.
"I know a lot about you. I know that you have a brother in Kuasta who has gone blind. I know that you have a sister in Bullridge who is married to a man whom you despise. I know that you have a wife and a son name Lefson. I know that you were forced to join Galbatorix's army and that you do what you do against your will. And in the time that I have said these things, I have found where Galbatorix has cast a spell on you to kill you and removed it. You will live, Naìyar. Wither you complete this mission or not, you will live." Naìyar's eyes grew with shook. He fell to his knees and stared up at Eragon. Through Naìyar's eyes Eragon saw that the rising sun was cast behind him, giving him an image both powerful and wise. Feeling that it was appropriate, Eragon laid his hand on Naìyar's forehead and focusing intensely he intoned, "Jierda du ren." Eragon fought off a wave of weariness as he snapped Naìyar's oath to the Empire like a wet stick. He had invented the spell the previous week when he had found mention of it in one of the hundreds of scrolls he had shifted through. The spell, as he now discovered, costed nearly as much energy as it was ran straight up and down one of the mountains of the Spine.
Naìyar lowered his head and stared at the ground as if he could feel his oaths leaving him. Eragon took his hand and pulled him up. "Go now," he said, and took the scroll from him. "You are free and Galbatorix can not harm you." He placed his hand on the Belt of Beloth the Wise and whispered seven words. "Wherever you go, peace and luck will follow you." Naìyar backed up to his horse, unspeakable gratitude on his face.
"Thank you," he said just as he began to ride away. Eragon closed his eyes, smiling. That's the part of being a Rider I enjoy. He turned his attention to the scroll in his hands. It was stamped with Morzan's symbol. Murtagh must have taken his father's sigil as his own. He opened it and read thus.
Eragon, Brother, I challenge you to a contest of strength to be held over Dras'Leona. You need fear no treachery from Galbatorix. He has given his word that he will not aid me nor hinder you. I have cast spells on this parchment to convince you of that. If you are victorious then Dras'Leona shall be surrendered to the Varden; free of a siege. If I am victorious you shall come to Uru'baen and hear Galbatorix's arguments. You need fear no treachery of Galbatorix to trap you in Uru'baen. I have, again, attached spells to this parchment to convince you of that. If you accept this challenge, be in the skies of Dras'Leona in three days time. If you do not, be prepared to be defeated at another time. I shall bring Thorn and Zar'roc. You may bring whatever weaponry you see fit. I will have no aid other than my dragon and my sword; you will have no aid but your dragon and your sword. If you call yourselves fighters for justice than do justice in this and come alone but for Saphira.
And, brother, I suggest you leave your elves behind, else I will turn all my powers onto them and they will die. That is how you won in our previous duel, aye? Bring whatever you got in Ellesmera two weeks ago and I in return will bring you something that you should find...intriguing. Andlat eom du Varden.
Eyes narrowed, Eragon cast his mind onto the paper and found two spells of unmistakable origin. Murtagh had indeed cast spells of honesty to the parchment. After inspecting them thoroughly he tossed the scroll into the air and snapped his fingers. "Brisingr!" The scroll burst into fire. Despite himself, he could not deny that Murtagh had told the truth with what he had written. I don't like it, he said to Saphira.
No boundary exists for writing lies in the Ancient Language. Be glad at least he did not write these oaths in the scroll.
"What did it say, Eragon," Nasuada said.
"Murtagh did stop in Dras'Leona. He's challenged me to a duel over the city. He says he won't take any Eldunari, but I don't trust him. It's clever of him, I must admit. By making the duel in Dras'Leona he insures no involvement by the Varden or the elves."
Blodhgarm's main rippled. "What are you going to do, Shadeslayer?"
Arya crossed her arms, her brow darkening. "As Islanzadí's daughter and ambassador and Shadeslayer myself, I absolutely refuse to allow you to do this alone, Eragon. Sending you into battle alone would be foolish enough, but over a major city of the Empire and with Murtagh and Thorn with next to unlimited resources in the city? Nasuada!" The brown skinned woman was shaking her head as Arya spoke.
"We need this, Arya. We need Murtagh and Thorn to be dealt with immediately. The dwarfs have bolstered our numbers, yes, but by the time we reach Dras'Leona our armies will be battered and depleted. We need this Arya, if we are to have a chance of victory."
"You trust Galbatorix's word," Arya roared. "For neigh on a hundred years he has slaughtered your kind like a butcher would a hog! And now you want to send our finally hope directly into his arms?"
"I do not trust him," Nasuada raged back. "Which is why you shall be going with him, Arya Shadeslayer!"
Jierda du ren: Break the oath.
Andlat eom du Varden: Death to the Varden.
Brisingr: Fire
