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Eragon slid off Saphira's back the moment her feet hit the ground, and hoisting the unconscious body of the girl into his arms, dashed madly down the rows of tents that made up the Varden's camp, yelling for Angela at the top of his voice, oblivious to the bewildered stares of other people milling about.
"Eragon," Arya said, her face creased with concern as she stepped into his path, forcing him to skid to a halt in front of her. "What is wrong? Why do you yell for Angela so?"
Upon seeing the injured girl in his arms, however, Arya's face paled slightly and she quickly led him into a tent where Angela stood speaking with Lady Nasuada.
"Oh dear!" Angela cried as Eragon gently laid the girl down on the nearest cot. Nasuada could do no more than stare on in surprise at the sight before her. "What in—"
Interrupting her, Eragon snapped harshly, "This is no time for exclamations of surprise or standing around with your mouths agape. This girl is badly poisoned—Angela, I need your help. It seems to be a slow acting poison, one which is used to coat the blades of daggers or knives—I think it keeps the wound from healing so if the person is not killed by the poison, they will slowly bleed to death. Have you any herbs, potions, antidotes—anything that could halt the spreading of the poison?"
Angela, whose face had paled when Eragon described the nature of the poisoning, nodded grimly and hurried off to her tent to gather her herbs. Turning to Nasuada and Arya, who stood together a few feet away, Eragon asked, "Can you help me clean her up? She is so covered in blood it is difficult to tell where she is wounded or how deep the gashes are."
Nasuada called for a maidservant and dispatched her quickly with orders to bring as much warm water and clean cloths as she could carry.
"Where did you find this girl, Eragon?" Nasuada questioned after the servant had left, sounding nothing short of perplexed. "And who is she? She can be someone of no mean importance, to have been attacked in such a way!"
Eragon paused as he realized he could hardly answer any questions he may be asked about this girl, for he knew hardly anything of her himself, and of what he did know, he was unsure of exactly how much he was in a position to reveal. The dragon—Vanilor he had called himself—had told him neither his Rider's name nor what had befallen them to cause the girl to be in such a state, he had only said that they had been attacked, which any fool could have ascertained.
He was too grieved to speak her name, I think, Saphira said, sticking her blue head into the tent. He is terrified that she will die. And thank you for leaving me behind as you ran off to yell at our friends because they did not read your mind and jump immediately to your aid. You forget you will need my help as well.
You have my apologies, Saphira, he said, and meaning it. I do need you to lend me your strength. I should check to see if she has broken or sprained anything. Those are all I can heal without Angela.
Eragon was saved the trouble of having to answer Nasuada's questions by the return of the maidservant with the supplies her lady had requested, with which Nasuada and Arya set about cleaning the unconscious girl to the best of their ability. Arya also felt around for broken and dislocated bones so as to preserve the young woman's modesty, directing Eragon to any injuries she found.
Just as he had tended to the last of the breaks and Nasuada and Arya had Eragon's charge reasonably clean, Angela bustled in, looking harassed and worried. She threw a bag full of plants to the ground and started tossing various roots and dried leaves into a mortar before mashing its contents into a paste with a pestle, chanting something Eragon could not hear and occasionally adding a little water to the mixture if she needed it.
Arya, who had been gathering the girl's reddish brown hair back from her face to keep it out of Angela's way, gasped in surprise as she saw what the girl had carefully arranged her hair to hide: The pointed ears of an elf.
"Did you know of this?" she demanded of Eragon, holding the girl's hair back so he could see that, rather than having the pronounced curvature at the top of the ear that marked a human, her ears ended in slight points.
"She is an elf!" he exclaimed with surprise.
"And eager to hide it, too, it seems," Arya remarked thoughtfully.
"Do you recognize her?" Eragon asked.
Arya took a few moments to choose her words carefully before finally saying: "It is hard to tell what she truly looks like when she is but an inch away from death. She is now only a pale shadow of what she is in full health. But I can say with certainty that I have never seen this maid before you brought her here today."
Eragon looked at Arya searchingly. He knew she could not be lying, for she spoke in the Ancient language, but her tone and careful choice of words made him certain she was purposely leaving something out.
"An elf is not all she is," Nasuada remarked stiffly, showing them the silver gedwëy ignasia on the girl's right palm, the only physical remnant of her first contact with her dragon.
"An elf and a Rider," Nasuada continued on softly, seeming absorbed with shock at the identity of this mysterious girl, and perhaps the possibilities her discovery could mean.
"Where did you find her Eragon?" Nasuada whispered softly a few moments later, looking up into his face. Then her countenance hardened a bit as she added, "And tell the truth."
"Her dragon, a black male not yet old enough to breathe fire, brought her to me while I was at the shore this morning," he admitted. "They were both covered in blood and had traveled a long distance to find us. He asked for Saphira and me to save her; he knew she was dying and would soon pass beyond healing if not tended to soon. He allowed us to take her back to camp while he remained by the caves in the cliffs until Saphira came for him."
"I am curious as to what you were planning to do when you sent for him, Eragon," Nasuada said through clenched teeth. "Let her leave? Have you any idea what sort of threat she poses to everything we have fought so hard for? She could be captured by the Empire and used against us! Galbatorix already has found himself one Rider in your brother! Could you imagine the advantage it would give him were he to acquire another?"
"I did not think—"
"That much is quite obvious," the queen said with anger, a flush darkening her deep skin.
"The girl was dying, Nasuada," Eragon snapped, his anger quickly rising to match hers. "I could not stand by and let another Rider die knowing I had the power to prevent it! If you think so poorly of my judgment, perhaps you should release me from your service. The gods know I have enough to deal with without being scolded and second-guessed by you."
"In any event," came a loud interruption from Angela, who had been tending to the girl while Arya, Nasuada and Eragon had looked on and puzzled over her identity, "she will not be able to leave right away. The poison was a powerful one, and its effects are such that her wounds cannot be healed by magic, but must knit naturally. And when she regains consciousness, which could be anywhere from a few hours to several days, she will be too weak to go anywhere for some time. She is lucky. What has happened to her would kill the strongest of warriors, no matter what their race or strength. I will be back in a few hours to tend to her again. Keep someone with her at all times and report any changes, for good or ill, to me."
With those words, Angela exited to the tent off in search of a hot meal and rest, leaving Eragon and Nasuada to their argument with Arya as referee.
