Purple Stone: Eragon Book Three
(From now on, I will put quotation marks on the italices, so as to separate Eragon's thoughts from Saphira's)
Chapter Three: Troublesome News
"Waise heil," commanded Eragon, holding his right hand palm down at the wounds of an injured dwarf. Grateful, the dwarf leapt up form the rough cot he had been resting on and said, "Bless you, Argetlam!" Eragon grinned and clapped him on the shoulder before arising to his feet. "Good luck to you and your family, brother," he added smoothly. The dwarf nodded, in reply. "That one was close to death, he was", Eragon thought wearily. Saphira, who strolled beside him after he left the tent and walked across the Burning Plains, sleepily inclined her head. The pair of them had been helping some of the Varden bury their dead, and hauling Galbatorix's soldiers to the side, awaiting their cremation.
It was a rather unpleasant sight, considering that the crisp ground smoldered faintly, mixing the air with a sick scent of the fresh dead and acrid smoke. After a few hours or so of assistance, a limited number of bodies lay across the Burning Plains, giving it a more deserted, desolate look. "This many lost in only the first day of the beginning of a costly war. No one is safe anymore, Eragon". Eragon sighed in return, grimly aware that he was supposed to meet agin with Nasuada this morning. He patted Saphira wearily, cringing at the thought of being so foolish as to forget such a counsel. Suddenly quickening his pace to a jog, Eragon headed towards the Queen's tent, racking his brans for an explanation to give to her.
As soon as he entered, he noticed that Nasuada had been involved in a heated discussion with Trianna. Both women's faces were red and contorted, quite near to releasing fire form their throats just as easily as Saphira. "We are masters at interjecting in others' affairs", Saphira snorted. "Tell me about it", Eragon answered. Nasuada jerked her head at him, flustered. "Forgive me for intruding, my lady," he said apolegetically. Trianna's face twitched; Nasuada sighed. "No matter. Trianna-our debate is dismissed for the moment." Jaw dropping indignantly, Trianna stomped out of the tent, just as rudely as the day before. "Foul woman", Saphira growled after Triana jostled past her. "You wanted to see me?" Eragon questioned rhetorically.
Nasuada sniffed. "It would have been better for you to have been here earlier. There's word reaching fast that there has been hints of Shades joining the empire-and heading south towards Surda for another attack." Eragon's eyes widened, panicked and horrified. "A 'group,' you say?" "Five." Eragon whislted, uttering a disbelieving laugh. "We're in trouble now, Hinus, and I daresay predict that unless we come up with a swift defensive plan, then we're doomed," he panted, ruffling his hair. "Just five more Durzas", spat Saphira. Nasuada shook her head, distraught, and sarcastically stated, "Oh no, the Varden is fine!" He was taken aback how much more distressed Nasuada had become and how bitterly mocking her sarcasm had been.
Nevertheless, Nasuada continued, "The only thing I can hope for is for the Elves' arrival. Even with them there will be plenty of bloodshed to go around-making yesterday's battle look like a simple dispute." "How many Elves shall come before it's too late?" Saphira asked through Eragon. "Ask Angela-I don't know!" Nasuada taunted irratably. "Just let me know how I can be of assistance, my lady. For I am willing." Nasuada smiled weakly, slightly shaking her head. She sank languidly into the depths of her wooden chair, scooting up to the small, circular table before her. Various scrolls, papers, and cloths piled high upon the table, strewn across randomly. Eragon and Saphira watched her drowsily, understanding the struggle that Nasuada must have felt. With a heavy sigh, she leaned forward at the table, and laid her chin upon her folded hands. "That's the 'problem,' Eragon, I don't know what to do anymore!"
Slightly taken aback by her succinct claim, Eragon struggled within himself to find the right words of comfort to say, all the while remaining a determined composure. "First the problem was money for food and settlement-then I got money-fixed the issue. Then there was a debate over where my people would settle! Fixed that-well-kind of..." She slapped her forearm on the the table impatiently, grimacing. Eragon opened his mouth to speak, but Nasuada cut him off, exclaiming, "Now the new ordeal is food! What good is money if there is no food? And to top it all off, diseases and sicknesses are spreading like wildfire all over the place, and all because we don't have much room to spread out! I want open air, freedom, and just plain openness. And if that's not enough turmoil within the Vardenand everyone else rebellingagainst Galbatorix, war is approaching head on!"
She then pounded the table with a clenched fist, close to foaming at the mouth. "But my Lady...Nasuada...we're still in the Burning Plains," Eragon reproached cautiously. "When we go back to Surda there will be an extra foot or two and food to go 'round." "No, no, no..." Nasuada shook her head. "That damn King Orrin and I had a row...did you not notice he and his lot march back to Surda, and more of our lot come from Surda? Hence the children amongst their families!" Eragon choked with shock, outrageously angry. Saphira clawed at the ground , snorting puffs of steam from her flared nostrils. "How could this happen? He is your ally!" Nasuada refused to answer, keeping her eyes squinting with furious hatred. Eragon stamped the ground, fuming. "Where was I when this occurred?" he gruffly asked Saphira.
"After battle. Right before we entered the tent and you spilt information about Murtagh as the new Rider. Jumundor and Trianna were trying to persuade Nasuada to reconsile. You were too exhausted to have noticed, and there was nothing you could've done about it". Eragon gritted his teeth, waiting for Nasuada to explain herself and to rechannel his thought to make a nasty retort to Saphira. He eventually thought it best to hold his bitterness in. Eragon shuffled impatiently, and once more stated, "How?" Nasuada calmly answered, "He wanted more money and I refused. He spoke of how ignorant I was and I simply told him I didn't need him or his damn land-I was withdrawing my people." "So you are going to make them travel back to Farthen Dur?" he asked sharply.
"Of course not! We are still going back to Surda...just discreetly and in the bit of unihabited land. My pride may fool me...but that man..." She contorted her red face in a disgusting twist of fury. "What did King Orrin have to say about this?" Eragon snapped, picturing the man curled up on the ground. Nasuada stiffened, and replied, "Oh, he pleaded with me to reconsider and told me he didn't need any more money after all..." Eragon huffed. He was revolted at the idea of not being told that this had happened, and even more outraged that it had happened, and slightly angered at Nasuada for ordering a rather unneccessary move for her people. Almost as if she had read his mind, Nasuada hastily justified, "I have always put my people's best interest at heart, Eragon, and I will not tolerate some bully barking orders to me. I don't care who they are. Just don't disrespect me, or bad things will happen."
Eragon couldn't help but chuckle softly. "Food, illness, land, and war," he summoned, shaking his head. Nasuada's face hardened. She rose frmo her seat and headed towards him and Saphira, guiding them to the exit. "The company retreats back to Surda at dawn tomorrow." Standing at the edge of the doorway, Eragon sighed, "You make it sound as if we lost and more is coming." "It's just a whirlwind of obstacles, huh?" She answered anxiously.
Eragon was surprised by how late the day had aged in what seemed merely hours as he stepped out of Nasuada's tent. It was at least in the late afternoon, just minutes before suset. Several people of the Varden were huddled around fires near their tents, cooking meals and such. Most of the children had stopped roaming around, as the parents were keeping a close eye on them as nightfall was approaching. Still shocked by the withdrawal of the remainder of the Varden from Surda, Eragon couldn't help but gawk at the children and elderly around the Burning Plains. "I assume I was too dazed earlier to notice more people here", he thought aloud. Saphira, who was always at his side, replied, "More? Bagh! After many died from battle, it's just as if more came in to fill in their places". Eragon raised his eyebrows in agreement. "Didn't notice, I suppose". "How could you, after having to see dozens of dying men earlier today?" Saphira said rhetorically. He refrained from answering, since the rememberance of the many whom he couldn't heal troubling him inside.
Eragon and Saphira trudged back to their area behind a large rock, as it had not been necessary to burden the Varden with making an additional tent for him. The ground there was a smooth, flat dirt patch whereas the rest of the Burning Plains were covered in crisp, rotted grasses and weeds, shrubs here and there. Plopping a comfortable spot down on the ground, Eragon heaved a great sigh, leaning against the rock. Saphira sat beside him neatly on her haunches, making her resemble an overly sized perched dog. eragon chuckled at the thought, subconsciously stroking her. "Humans are a very queer race", she purred. "Ha, but that's the thing-I'm not quite a human".After a short pause, Eragon apprehensively questioned, "What do you think will become of them-the Varden?" Saphira pondered a moment, then thought, "How so?" "Well, you heard Nasuada-there are all sorts of problems going on. How exactly can we fight the Empire if we're going to diew from starvation and illnesses? Galbatorix will win before we even get a chance to rebel!" Saphira slowly shook her head in disagreement, patient as always.
"We must look towards hope if we wish to survive this war. You forget that elves are an important ally, and once they become more involved, there will be a turn for the better. You'll see." Eragon snorted impulsively. "Oh look, we have a wise philosopher-harken to her advice.
Saphira stiffened defensively, with miniscule puffs of smoke evading her open nostrils. "You didn't mean that." The words stung Eragon and rattled in his bones, reminding him of a sudden cackling flame. Shame trickled down his spine at his rash statement. "You're right-I'm sorry. It's just that everything is jumbled out of place, like one giant jigsaw puzzle that's impossible to piece together."
Saphira loosened a bit, an understanding smile illuminating her face. "It's all right. I'm going to go catch a meal. I will join you later." He grinned. "Don't be gone too long." Immediately after his words, Saphira leapt up into the sky, expanding her tremendous wings as she soared through the gleaming sky of several intertwining colors of the sunset. Eragon watched her fly off until she was merely a spec in the distance. The sun was becoming barely visible above the horizon, as this emotionally stressful day came to an end, Eragon closed his heavy eyes and leaned wearily against the rock, a mixture between half-sleep and half-awake. Subconscious memories of the battle previously flashed through his mind. Eragon remembered swords clashing, Saphira hissing, and outcries in the distance. "We are mirroring images...brother..." "Brother." "Brother."
"Eragon." He jumped up, alert and startled. Shaking the echoes of troublesome quotes from his head, he quickly rubbed the sleep from his eyes, aware that it had now become completely dark. As soon as he had regained his senses, he glanced down at a peculiar young girl. "Eragon?" she repeated smoothly. Eragon stifled a yelp as he noticed that Elva had become much taller, closely relating to the heighth of his elbow. Her hair was longer, falling to her waist. Elva's purple glazed eyes sparkled under the moonlight. "Hello, Elva. You've changed, haven't you?" She beamed. "For the last time. I'm guesing that I'm twelve, now. I can't go backward or forward anymore, so I suppose I'm in my 'natural' state."
Eragon suddenly realized that she wasn't as eerie as before, and that she seemed more of a casually-odd child. Eragon grinned at the term. Elva then held out her hand, which was clutching a glimmering gemstone. "Out on the Burning Plains. A Varden soldier recognized it as yours and told me to return it to you." Eragon gently picked it up from the palm of her hand, slipping it into his pants pocket. Elva curtsied, turning to leave. "Thank you." She stopped, swiveling back around. "Eragon?" she asked tentatively. He raised his eyebrows, puzzled at her change in demeanor. "Yes, Elva? Everything all right?" he asked reproachfully. She shook her head in response, and found herself gazing blankly at the night stars. Elva then sighed and made a stern, concentrated face that Eragon was certain it was a pout. Feeling incredibly awkward and unaware of how to respond, he solemnly approached to her side, kneeling on his knees slightly. Placing a light hand on her shoulder, Eragon stealthily retrieved the ruby gem from his pocket and held his palm outstretched. "You know, I don't really need this. You are more than welcome to keep it."
Lowering her gaze form the starry sky, Elva gingerly placed her hand on top of his, folding his fingers over the gem. "No, silly. Maybe if I were a dwarf a rock would work for me, but I am not but a human girl, and rocks, polished or not, do not catch my eye." She smiled at Eragon's confusion as he slipped the gem back into his pocket. Carefully choosing his words, he at last summoned, "Then what is bothering you?" Elva's grin surprisingly subsided, her graveness returning. "Some question your loyalty to the Varden. they wonder why the other rider managed to flee away without much of a fight. It's pretty balanced, really. Some think that your intentions are pure, but others, well . . ." Her voice trailed off loosely. Eragon couldn't help but become horrified at the information.
Utterly dumbfounded, he finally gasped, "What?" Elva's eyes swiftly scanned against him; he wondered what the girl was thinking about so intently. "People want to know why the rider lives, and why you didn't do a thing to stop him." Blood rushed through Eragon's veins, pulsing with utmost revulsion. Hastily controlling himself for Elva's sake, he managed to reply, "Well that just shows how much 'they' know. Didn't these people see me lose after entering a duel against Mu-the rider?" Eragon hoped that she hadn't noticed him nearly revealing the rider's identity. Elva rose her eyebrows. "I'm assuming no, since that has never before been mentioned." He choked in despise at the news. "Is this what's bothering you, then, you think I'm a traitor?" Elva stiffened. "That's not fair! I don't know. How can I judge something that I don't have a clue on?"
Eragon nodded, saying, "For that, you are wide. If only others would agree with your theory." "But still, Dragon Rider, I wish to personally ask you, myself, where does your allegiance lie?" Rising to his feet, Eragon bit his lip, then answered, "The Varden, first and foremost. Queen Nasuada, who I 've sworn fealty to. Saphira, my dragon, my best friend. The people-or more speciifically, the innocents." He sighed afterwards, awaiting a reply. She solemnly nodded. "Good. Now I really trust you." Walking back off towards the cluster of tents, Elva made her way downhill. Impatiently curious, Eragon yelled, "By the way, who are these people?" "The counsel of Elders, of course! Who else?"
