An Ill-Fated Rescue

Chapter 4

Wind howled past the tall pillars of Helgrind. It was a cold wind that blew off Leona Lake with the approach of winter. It whistled through a crack in the wall and swirled around the prisoner who slept fitfully and she shivered. Yet again the wind blew waking the prisoner from her sleep. She moved her legs slightly only to gasp in pain, the fire of her burns lanced up and down her back.

Arya heard the door click knowing all too well that it either meant torture or food. Food was the same thing as torture to her. If she did not eat, she was forced to. For someone reason Murtagh had decided to keep her alive, but only barely. As many times as she tried to use magic, she couldn't. The words escaped her every time she tried to remember them. Arya cautiously opened her mind and found Murtagh standing outside the door. This could not be good. The door opened wider, and he stepped in.

The smile that played across his face was far from comforting. She had seen it before. He pulled a key from his pocket and walked over to her. Inserting the key into each of the locks on her shackles he unlocked them one by one.

"I have decided that torture of pain seems to only make you more stubborn. I have also decided that, since you really have no other purpose to be here other than becoming a trap and of course being an object for one of my favorite hobbies of torture, that a torture of honor would do a more satisfactory job of loosening your tongue." Murtagh spoke the last few words in a manner of greatest enjoyment and an ominous sound rung from them.

Arya closed her eyes realizing there was no escape for her this time. It had only been soldiers last time. Now it was a dragon rider. Terror filled her. She fought him until he pulled a knife, placing it on her neck. Then she gave up wishing it would end, and knowing she could end it if she fought him. Eragon already thought her dead, and she guessed so did the Varden. Why didn't she just end it now? Something restrained her.

Eragon drew his sword and stood across the sparring ring from Roran. It was the day after the funeral. Eragon had taken it upon himself to teach his cousin the art of the sword. It was tedious work. His cousin, suffice it to say, was much better with a hammer. With a sword, his cousin was careless and had almost no natural ability.

As usual, Roran attacked first. This strategy was always a poor decision unless you had an advantage on your opponent, something Roran lacked. Eragon parried the blow and slid his blade over Roran's head to set it on the back of is neck.

"Dead" he proclaimed for what seemed to be the fiftieth time, "Roran, I think that you should go practice with Orik; you could fight with your hammer."

Roran looked greatly relieved and hurried over to the dwarf. Eragon remained to watch a while longer and then returned to the dragon hold. Reaching out to Saphira, he found her in a remote area about a mile away, munching on what seemed to be half a dead cow.

Eragon, I think we should leave today.



Oh is that so?

I feel there is something I or we have overlooked.

And what might that be?

I do not know little one. Every time I try to figure it out, it escapes me.

Is it very important to remember?

I think that it is significant, but can be forgotten. I believe we should leave sooner.

How much sooner, Saphira? I don't think Roran is ready.

We have little time; tonight at the latest.

I will tell Roran. I don't know whether this is a good idea or not, but I trust you.

Within the next hour, Roran and Eragon were ready to leave. They were flying light in order to travel faster. They knew their plans by heart. Eragon was filled with grim delight at the chance to face Arya's killers. They mounted Saphira and left through the way they had come, angling in an eastwardly direction, dodging around peaks as they had before.

"Sir," the door to Arya's cell burst open and a soldier walked in, "I have come to tell you that the rider Eragon has been spotted just beyond the boundaries of Dras Leona."

In Murtagh's moment of distraction, Arya grasped the knife, wrenched it out of his hand, and threw him off of her against the wall. The effort caused the skin of her back to seer with pain, and she collapsed onto the floor trembling. Murtagh stood wiping the blood from his lip away from his face.

"I'll be there in a minute once I'm through punishing this nasty, ungrateful witch!!" Murtagh yelled at the soldier who eagerly backed out of the cell.

Arya knew she was about to pay for her actions but it was some comfort to know Murtagh had at least found some justice. She could feel a small amount of blood tracing down her neck but knew it was not an immediate danger. Murtagh picked her up and pinned her back against the wall. She didn't fight him just then. If it truly was Eragon on his way then she wanted to be able to fight alongside him. Murtagh brought back his fist and punched her several times.

Then he took his knife from her and let her fall to the ground gasping in pain and for air. The cell was plunged into darkness as the door shut behind him. There was a soft clicking as the key turned in the lock.

Eragon sat watching as his cousin choked down a lizard he had found on a rock earlier. Saphira had watched in amusement as his cousin had tried unsuccessfully to kill it for several minutes but finally took mercy on him and dug her claw through its back killing it instantly. Eragon was eating a dried apple and did little else but stare. The air was cold, though the sandy ground of the Hadarac Desert stayed warm. Winter was fast approaching. It would be a hard one for the Varden with so many people to take care for. They would not have the continuous supply of food from the dwarves now that they had been moved to Surda.



Eragon shivered as a breeze encircled him. It carried the scent of grass with it which relieved him. Saphira may like the sand but Eragon personally hated feeling gritty all the time. For a few moments sand whipped around in the air but then it settled, and Eragon and Roran retreated into slumber. They would need as much energy as possible for the next day.

Murtagh leaned impatiently on a ledge on Helgrind's outer wall. Thorn circled high over his head also waiting. The blue dragon drew ever closer but was still not close enough. He knew his job from Galbatorix was to wait, but he never swore to do so. He would choose when to fight his own battles.

My foolish, foolish brother, you'd think that he'd learn coming to the rescue of everyone was futile.

You are correct; he is foolish and he's only brought his cousin.

Murtagh pulled his sword from its sheath and examined the blade in a fashion that caught the light. The remaining Ra'zac and lethrblaka soared up from the top of Helgrind. To Murtagh's surprise the two rebels and the dragon sped up at the sight.

Eragon pasted himself flat against Saphira's neck as she rushed toward Helgrind. She had picked and air current that would support her and furiously flapped her wings to gain speed. She slid along on the air like water in a river. She streamlined her self so she would go faster.

Eragon, Thorn and Murtagh are here! Where's Thorn? I cannot look for him; it will slow me down too fast.

He's diving Saphira! Directly above us. He'll be on us in seconds.

Saphira angled her head up slightly and the speed shoved them up into a giant loop. Saphira was next to Thorn's belly so quickly he hadn't even realized what had happened yet. She scored her long curved talons down his underside as she past and then looped over and got his back. Eragon pulled his new sword from its sheath and struck out at the dragon. Thorn twisted in anger and pain but by the time he finally saw them they had reached the Ra'zac and his rider.

Murtagh starred in disbelief at his dragon. Thorn had actually lost to trickery. It was a surprise attack and they won. Now the blue dragon raced forward toward Helgrind. Murtagh sheathed Zar'roc and scrambled into the peaked fortress. He ran through the tunnels until he reached the elf's cell. He unlocked the door and grabbed her roughly by the hair. He then drew the sword and put it to her neck.

"Let's see how much my brother values your life over his cousin's!"

Eragon was facing the Ra'zac now. His cousin had scrambled down into the tunnels to find Katrina and bring her back out. The lethrblaka was now much smaller than Saphira and much less skilled. Saphira darted up and over its 

head to allow Eragon plenty of striking room. This was a dangerous maneuver for all but the most talented and trained flyers. Eragon got a direct slice in the middle of the lethrblaka's head. Dark blue/purple blood rushed from the wound. Eragon looked at his sword only to see no blood on the blade. In his moment of distraction the Ra'zac and lethrblaka charged him Saphira dodged but the Ra'zac's serrated knife caught his lower right arm and ripped the skin and muscle down to the bone. Eragon yelled in pain as Saphira roared and flew directly at the other flying beast. When they collided, Eragon switched his sword from his right to his left hand. Blood coursed from his wound, and he knew this would have to be over soon.

Saphira! Slide underneath it!

It will put us both at risk…

I know, just trust me.

I trust you Eragon. Don't prove me to be foolish.

Saphira folded her wings and dropped slightly, then flew forward with her neck stretched out level with the ground. Eragon lifted his sword above his head and shoved it up under the ribcage of the lethrblaka. The creature began to writhe.

Saphira, go now!!

Saphira once again sped up to an outrageous speed for a few seconds. Their battle with the Ra'zac had taken them far out over the ground and onto the plain. They banked sharply to see their opponent start to fall. The descent began unimaginably slowly and it picked up speed until it reached its maximum seconds before impact. Saphira and Eragon turned away and flew back toward Helgrind.

Eragon tore a strip from ,his tunic as they flew knowing the battle was far from over. He wrapped the strip of material around his arm and tied it tightly. The blood seeped through the cloth almost as soon as he applied it, but he could not expend energy, not yet.

Saphira landed on top of one of the peaks. Soldiers ran from the passages that channeled out from the mountain. Eragon spotted Roran running at the head of them carrying Katrina. Eragon knew it was futile the soldiers were gaining on his cousin and his cousin's fiancé. As one, Eragon and Saphira started to move forward. Behind them a passage opened. Eragon turned, and what he saw made his stomach drop away.

Murtagh stood in front of the door and before him stood Arya with a sword held firmly against her neck. Eragon turned to look at Roran and Katrina. They were now surrounded by soldiers. Arrows were pointed at their chests.

"Choose dragon rider." Murtagh spoke with a liquid ease to his voice that showed how comfortable he was with the situation.

Saphira…

I can only tell you to choose with your head and not your heart, little one. I cannot make this decision for you.

Tears pricked Eragon's eyes. He looked at each of the people he loved, his family and his friend who meant more to him than anything other than Saphira.

"Hurry Rider or there won't be any choosing," Murtagh was taunting him.

a/n- It was rather bloody and violent. Just like I said it would be.

Poll of the Chapter

Will Murtagh die?

Gath un reisa du rakr

Tabitha of MoonAurora