I definitely don't own the Inheritance Cycle. Maybe the other way around.
"and even... somebody with a pitchfork..." -Eragon
The other soldiers in the Varden teased Helam sometimes, saying that he didn't have a proper weapon. He had joined them after his farm was destroyed in an Urgal attack, taking with him only the one thing that he had managed to rescue, a four-tined pitchfork.
Achmi was the worst, constantly comparing his own sword (that the Varden had made and given to him) to Helam's choice of weapons.
The captain of their company, Lim, finally put a stop to most of the soldiers, pointing out that it was the soldier, not the weapon, which won the battle. But Achmi still had his aura of superiority.
Until the battle.
The new Rider had come to Farthen Dur a few days earlier, seeking shelter. Helam's company was sitting around a cookfire, eating supper. As usual, Achmi resorted to his favorite pastime.
"That Rider is a really good fighter. I saw him duel this elf -very pretty elf, I must say- and they were amazing."
"That's great. Why don't you go tell him that?" Helam retorted. But Achmi wasn't finished.
"He's such a great fighter, I'll bet he could even accomplish something with that stupid pitchfork of yours, Fork Boy."
The other soldiers laughed. Helam glared at his stew and kept eating. Just you wait, Achmi. I'll show you what my pitchfork can do.
It was the next day. They thought. It was hard to tell underground. Sentries in the tunnels had warned of an approaching Urgal army. Even Achmi became more solemn, ceasing his teasing of Helam, for the moment, at least.
The battle was fast, and furious. All too soon, their company was engulfed by the Urgals' teeming masses. Captain Lim was cut down before their very eyes, blood flying everywhere.
Before they knew it, Achmi and Helam were the only ones left, trying to fend off an entire horde of Urgals. Suddenly, Achmi fell. Helam lunged over with his pitchfork, catching an Urgal in the chest. Helam could feel the blood surging in his veins as he defended his army brother, not caring that they had been at loggerheads not long ago.
At that moment, the Rider flew over on his sapphire dragon, scaring the Urgals away for a few critical moments. Helam dragged his wounded comrade over the ground to a tunnel opening, one of the few shelters remaining on the battle field.
The rest of the battle was mostly a blur- all Helam knew was that the Varden had somehow, miraculously, emerged victorious, and the Urgals were gone.
The day after the battle, Helam visited Achmi in one of the healers' tents.
"How are you doing?" he asked awkwardly.
"I'm alive, thanks to you." Achmi nodded at the pitchfork which Helam still held. "You're pretty fast with that thing, Fork Boy."
"Um, thanks." Helam was embarrassed.
"Hey, I'm sorry I teased you about it."
"Apology accepted."
They shook hands.
Author's note: For this chapter only, reviewers may smack me and tell me that I should be doing schoolwork and/or updating a story that a lot of people are watching. Enjoy!