Disclaimer: The Inheritance Cycle belongs to Paolini.
A/N: Here is chapter four ! (a bit later than I had planned, though). I will try to post the next chapter before my exams. Enjoy !
Chapter 4: Summons from the queen
''Mother's pains have begun. Help me gather everyone.''
Eragon nodded. ''I will be right there. Do you have many people to inform left? Does Gertrude need herbs for Elain? I know the herbalist who accompanies the Vardens.''
Albriech shrugged. ''I don't know if Gertrude has all she needs already – she couldn't bring all her preparations and ingredients when we abandoned Carvahall. She is at mother's side. You should go ask her. I can finish gathering everyone.''
''Eragon'' Arya intervened. ''I have assisted women from the Vardens during childbirth several times. If you need any help…''
Albriech frowned immediately. Eragon forced a small smile. The elf meant well, but the people of Carvahall would not tolerate her presence at such a time. Apparently, she did not realize the hold stories could have over people living deep in the empire.
And he was not sure he wanted to give Arya the opportunity to question him about what had happened during the duel so soon. He needed time to reflect on it with Saphira.
''I thank you for your offer, Arya Svit-kona. But I have faith in Gertrude's skills – she delivered me and countless others – and this is a time that should be reserved for family.'' He replied with a formal tone.
''I understand, Eragon Shurtugal. I shall be at your disposal if additional help becomes necessary.''
He bowed slightly in acknowledgement, but internally prayed that no such help would be needed. If the child's or mother's life was threatened, it would be hard enough to convince the villagers to let him intervene – no man was allowed in during childbirth. Elain was just as stubborn as anyone else from Carvahall, and would probably choose death over help from an elf.
Eragon jogged towards the blacksmith's tent, Saphira following him in the sky. He was glad that the children of Carvahall had played with the dragon in the past, when Nasuada had organized this dinner weeks ago. He knew this had gone a long way in making the villagers accept his winged partner. No one would question her presence today.
Baldor was sitting just outside the tent, greeting the villagers as they arrived – though most were still on their way. Eragon reassured him that the others were not far behind him, coming back from the training ground, and then asked how things were going so far.
''Mother felt the first pains about an hour ago, so the actual birth will not begin for a few more hours.'' The young man replied, his knee bouncing rhythmically.
''Is Gertrude with her?'' Eragon enquired. ''I know someone in the Vardens who could provide her with more herbs. If she needs them.''
He turned as he heard the tent open behind his back.
''So, there is an herbalist in the Vardens? I couldn't find one… When the time is more appropriate, you will have to introduce us, Eragon.'' Gertrude said as she greeted him with a small smile.
''How is Elain?'' Eragon asked.
''She is well. It is not her first child, though there has been much more stress than usual. Horst is with her. You can go in too if you want, Baldor.'' She paused and turned back to the Rider. ''If I give you a list now, how long will it take you to go see this herbalist and come back? If possible, I would like to have everything before the birth truly begins.''
''I run fast.'' Eragon replied simply.
Gertrude's slight frown became a wide smile and she hurried back in the tent. From the noise he heard inside, he easily guessed that she was checking her ingredients and writing down the herbs she needed.
A couple minutes later, Eragon was running around the camp, belatedly realizing that he did not know where Angela's tent was. He reached out with his mind while Saphira observed from above, both trying to locate the herbalist.
They finally found her at the limit between the Vardens and the dwarves.
''Well, this is an unexpected visit. What brings you here in such a hurry?''
She was stirring something in a wide pot, Solembum carefully watching the flames underneath.
''A woman from my hometown is about to give birth. Our healer could not bring as many herbs as she wanted when they decided to leave Carvahall.'' Eragon explained, handing her the list.
She grabbed it and started to read it while absentmindedly adding a purple powder to her mixture. Eragon watched the heavy smoke that immediately rose from the pot, wondering whether he should hold his breath or not. He opened his mouth to ask the herbalist what she was preparing, glanced down at the mixture again and closed his mouth.
Sometimes, ignorance was bliss.
'Try not to breath it, though.' Saphira advised him.
''I have some of these'' Angela started. ''Unfortunately, most are plants that grow only in the north of Alagaesia. Don't worry, though: there are plants with almost identical effects which I can give you. I will write down the names and instructions to prepare the herbs your healer is not familiar with.''
She reached behind her, tore a piece of parchment from a tainted scroll and started to scribble away, using her knee as a support. Meanwhile, Eragon greeted Solembum.
''I heard you duelled with Arya.'' Angela remarked, rising from her stool and gathering the herbs.
''News travel fast'' Eragon commented, rolling his eyes. The training ground was on the other side of the camp, and the duel had finished less than a half hour ago.
Angela shook her head. ''Only those very interesting. Or those completely uninteresting. Did you know that a soldier called Noren tripped on a rock and landed face first in horse dung this morning? The men haven't talked about anything else until news of your duel reached their ears.''
She handed him a small bag and the instructions. He was surprised by the neat writing, given how fast she had written.
''Here are your herbs. Tell your healer she can come discuss southern and northern plants with me if she wants.''
He nodded his thanks. ''She probably will.''
Angela looked at Solembum. The werecat was rubbing his back against Saphira's scaly leg.
''Solembum told me your third match was especially interesting.''
''I was wondering how you could have heard so many news if you had been stirring that pot all day. You have a spy.'' He concluded, indicating Solembum with his head.
''Oh, if you don't want to talk about it, just say so!'' Angela said with a wave of her hand before turning back to her mixture, throwing something in it – chopped liver, Eragon suspected. She looked up at him. ''Well? Aren't you going to say it?''
''I do not want to talk about it. Satisfied?'' Eragon answered, holding back a smile.
''Quite. Now, off you go! And good day to you Saphira.'' She added with a nod towards the dragon who responded with a small nod of her own.
Eragon thanked her again for her help and ran back to Horst's tent.
As soon as he got there, he noticed that almost everyone had arrived. Before making his way through the crowd, he turned towards Blodgharm and told him that they should retire – he doubted he would need protection, and he did not want to make the villagers uncomfortable. The elf nodded his assent, but not before making him promise not to leave the camp without notifying them.
Turning his gaze back on the crowd, he tried to locate Horst or his sons. He was relieved when he couldn't see them, as it meant that they were still inside the tent.
He made his way through the crowd, happy he did not have to elbow the villagers to do so: simply showing the herbs in his hands made the men and women step aside to let him through. By the time he reached the tent, someone had called Gertrude out and she was awaiting him.
He gave her the herbs and Angela's instructions, explaining that some plants had been replaced with southern species having similar properties. He also told her of the herbalist's offer to introduce her to the southern plants whenever she wanted to. She mumbled her thanks, her eyes already deciphering Angela's notes.
Before she could re-enter the tent, Eragon grabbed her arm.
''I have faith in your skills, but if things exceed the power of the herbs, please remember that I am now a healer. I have no experience in assisting childbirth, but I can stop a haemorrhage, restore muscles and fix bones.''
Gertrude gazed at him for several seconds. Finally, she nodded slowly. ''I will remember that. In the meantime, you should pray that we won't need your skills.''
She returned inside the tent.
Eragon joined Roran who was sitting on a wooden crate. Apparently, Katrina had decided to assist Elain.
They had been sitting silently for a couple of hours when the blacksmith stepped outside, followed by his sons.
''Now we wait.'' He stated.
And they waited. The discussions were whispered, and interrupted when a woman exited the tent with a request for clean water or sheets or when a loud cry escaped Elain. Candles and lanterns were brought once the night started to fall. The men were sitted in small groups, washing and sharpening their weapons, while the women checked the armors or knitted small clothes for the soon-to-be-born child.
If they were still in Carvahall, the women would have been mending working clothes while the men worked on farming tools that needed repairs. They would be gathered in the centre of the village. During the harvest season, those who could not abandon their work would finish it as fast as possible and the hurry to join the others.
In an isolated village like Carvahall, a child was considered a blessing not only to the family but also to the community. Therefore, it was important that the child be welcomed by everyone. It meant that he or she would be protected by the village. To refuse to attend a birth was one of the worst insult one could give.
Once he had finished looking over his hammer for the fourth time, Roran offered to use this time to show his cousin how to shave without slitting his throat open. Eragon accepted with some relief – he had nothing to do now that he and Saphira had exhausted their new riddles.
The dragonness was currently busy playing with the children, allowing them to climb over her legs, chase her tail and hide beneath her wings. He was surprised at the genuine pleasure she had in playing with them.
'It is strange how little we know about each other sometimes, despite being so closely bonded.' He remarked. 'I would never have imagined you happily letting a seven-year-old boy pull at your tail.'
'Be it in times of peace or war, the joys and carefreeness of newborns should not be sacrificed. I am happy these two-legged hatchlings can play and laugh. Most of their usual playmates stayed in Surda.' She declared.
Her words and the scene before his eyes found a strange echo in him. Like an old memory trying to rise to the surface. A scene flashed before his eyes – small dragons climbing over a human body, chasing the rope the man was holding. Before he could examine the strange picture, it disappeared. Eragon shook his head.
'I think these should have remained in the safer cities too.' He said.
'Their parents may die tomorrow. Wouldn't you want your loved ones close? It is not as if the children were going into battles with their parents.'
'I would endure their absence, knowing they were safe.'
'Even in a war, no one truly believes they will die as long as they are in the winning side. In their minds, they probably think that if the Vardens vanquish Galbatorix, they will return to Carvahall with their children. And if they lose… The Mad King does not tolerate treason.' Saphira observed while lifting the wing that hid one boy from another.
'It is not our decision, and it is too late anyway.' Eragon concluded with a shrug.
Sometime after midnight, they finally heard the unmistakable cries of an infant taking his first breaths in the world. The villagers cheered, and looked as Katrina opened the tent and handed a small bundle to Horst. Silence reigned while the blacksmith examined his new child. Then he stood up to his full height and announced:
''It is a girl!''
Everyone cheered again while Horst and his sons enquired how the mother was doing. With his sharp hearing, Eragon listened.
''She is tired, but thankfully there were no complications. I only hope the army will not move until she has recovered.'' Gertrude explained.
Eragon approached them, smiled at the infant and turned towards the others. ''If you wish, I can help with that. I cannot replace days of rest, but I can give her enough energy to hasten her recovery. But I will probably leave in a few days time, so I will not be able to assist her once the army moves again.''
Gertrude and Horst exchanged a glance. Horst nodded.
''Well, the birth is finished, so there is no reason not to allow additional help, even if it comes from a man!'' Gertrude said with a smile.
With a small sigh of relief, Eragon followed the blacksmith inside the tent. He quickly examined Elain before giving her some of the energy stored in Brisingr's sapphire, happy that he hadn't diagnosed any complications either.
Soon after, everyone returned to their own beds, tired from the long day. Eragon climbed on Saphira's back and they glided back to their own tent.
That night again, the dreams disturbed their rest. This time however, they were able to distinctly hear words : Come, Rider, Eragon. Until then, they had only heard disjointed syllables. Unfortunately, the rest of the message was still incomprehensible.
'There are only two voices.' Saphira stated as she yawned.
'Or the others were quiet last night.' Eragon cautioned, quickly washing up and getting dressed.
'No, I think they are only two.' She paused. 'You noticed it too, didn't you?' She asked with some trepidation.
He nodded – though she couldn't see him inside the tent, he knew she would feel his acquiescence. 'One of the voices was unmistakably dragon.'
They continued in silence, ruminating this new piece of information. Eragon carefully shaved with the razor – he couldn't help a tingle of pride when he managed the task without cutting his chin. Saphira stretched, shook her wings and groomed her claws.
Putting down the razor, the young rider shook his head in frustration.
'It doesn't make sense! There are only two other riders and three dragons in Alagaesia. We would recognize Glaedr's voice, and what use would he have to contact us during our sleep anyway? And we would also have recognized Murtagh's, so it cannot be him and Thorn either.'
'Which only leaves Shruikan and Galbatorix.' Saphira concluded.
'But we have already established that it is not the Mad King. And I still feel like I have heard these voices before, but I know I have never heard Galbatorix's voice. Or Shruikan's.'
'It makes even less sense!' Saphira exclaimed, digging her claws in the ground, irritated. 'How can we have heard a dragon's voice before?'
Eragon froze in sudden realization. 'Saphira… We both assumed the memory of those voices came from either my childhood or the time since you hatched. But there is also the possibility of it coming from further ago.'
'Little One, if you have an idea, can you hurry and get to the point?' The dragon commented.
He rolled his eyes and continued. 'I mean, could it be a memory from your past?'
'Eragon… You do remember that I am several years younger than you?'
'But your egg was laid over a century ago' Eragon pointed out. 'Arya carried your egg for fifteen years, and it left an impression in your mind, right? Perhaps voices you heard from your egg while in Vroengard could be similarly stored deep in your mind.'
She contemplated the idea for a moment.
'It might be .' She conceded.'But how could they still be alive today? Oromis and Glaedr were hidden by the elves, and I doubt the dwarves or the Urgals are hiding a dragon on their lands.'
'It could be an Eldunari. I doubt another of the Old Riders could have escaped the king for a century.' Eragon suggested.
'What about the Rider? Humans and elves do not have an Eldunari to preserve their minds when their bodies die.' Saphira objected.
'I can abandon my body and fully merge my mind with yours. What would happen if my body was killed at such a time?'
'So, the dragon was already in his or her Eldunari, the rider merged his or her mind with the dragon's and the rider was killed. Therefore, both are now trapped in the Eldunari.' Saphira continued dubiously.
Eragon sighed. 'I agree it seems highly unlikely. But it is not impossible either, and I can't think of another explanation.'
Saphira shrugged – which was a strange sight.
'The dreams keep getting clearer. We will probably find out in a few more days.'
She raised her head towards the sky. 'Would you like to go flying?'
Eragon grimaced. 'I would. But Blodgharm will probably chain me to the tent if I leave again without warning him.'
'Then warn him. And I will grab you from above before he can object.' Saphira offered.
They were thwarted when Blodgharm ran to Eragon, bowed and announced:
''The queen has contacted Arya. They are awaiting you.''
'I guess we will just have to remember this plan for next time.' Eragon thought to the dragon as they walked to the elf's tent.
He steeled himself for the interview. Discussions with the elven queen were never easy in his experience, and he was already tired from the lack of sleep.
He rasped on the front of the tent and entered at Arya's call. She was facing a mirror, but greeted him with a quick smile before taking a step back, allowing him to stand before the queen. He bowed and initiated the traditional greeting.
Once they finished, Islanzadi spoke up.
''Arya explained that you were already aware of the fate of the Golden Dragon and his Rider. Please, be assured that I would have personally announced you the unfortunate news if you had not already obtained them through… other sources. I offer you my most sincere condolences. Our people mourns the loss of the last of the Old Ones.''
''Saphira and I thank you for your kind words.''
''It took us several days to fully control Gil'Ead – humans did not prove very cooperative. Yesterday, we were finally able to prepare a small group of elves to carry the bodies back to Ellesmera.''
Eragon was somewhat irked by her remark on humans – who would be welcoming to warriors from a species you had only heard of in tales written to frighten children? - but now was not the time to start a debate.
''Thank you. I am sure they would want to rest on the Craig of Tel Naeir.'' He said instead.
''It will take them several days to reach their destination. The ceremony shall be seven days from now.''
''I cannot leave the Vardens for any longer than necessary. We will travel lightly and swiftly. We will leave in two days so that we arrive a day or two before the ceremony. It will be enough time to prepare a burial worthy of a Rider and Dragon, according to the traditions of the Order.'' Eragon decided.
Arya stepped up again, confirming that she would come with him to attend the burial. The conversation then circled around the losses, the future plans to continue south and other practical preoccupations. Arya reported the decisions the Vardens had taken during their last meeting. Finally, the queen took her leave.
As soon as the mirror reflected the inside of the tent once more, Arya turned and stared at him. Though it made him uncomfortable, he refused to look down.
''You look tired, though it has been several days since the battle. Did you find our duel exhausting?'' She asked slowly, using the ancient language.
''I believe I am more weary from not resting until late last night. The baby did not come until well after midnight.'' He answered carefully. He did not want to talk about the dreams, nor about their last match.
Suddenly, he was dreading the two days of travelling they would spend together. It was easy to avoid a subject when you could claim to have a task at the other side of the camp; once they were both sharing a saddle, miles in the air astride Saphira, it would be much more complicated.
'Then you should pray for these dreams to reveal themselves before our departure. I can claim that I am concentrating on the flying, but you will have no excuse not to talk with her. It would be beyond rude to ignore her for two days.' Saphira warned.
'I know. That is probably why she does not try to interrogate me now. She knows it will be easier to do so in a couple of days.' He said, schooling his face so that Arya would not see him frown at the thought.
For now, he thanked her for calling him and offered to go warn Nasuada himself of their departure. She accepted, and he hurriedly left.
He spent the rest of the day in short meetings with Nasuada, Triana, Orrin – who obviously wanted to comment but wisely refrained from doing so in front of Saphira – and Orik to advise them of his departure. He then visited Roran and Katrina – and thanked his near-brother again for the shaving lesson. He also went to Horst's. Elain and her daughter were sleeping soundly, and Gertrude was confident that the mother would recover quickly.
By the time he had finished informing everyone, it was already well into the afternoon. He decided to start packing the few things he would need for the trip. That way, he would be able to simply relax and rest on the morrow – who knows when he would have time to do so again in the coming weeks. Once he was done, he talked with Blodgharm and the others – they were sad that they would not be able to attend the ceremony, and Eragon promised to install a mirror so they could at least watch it.
When night fell, he retired.
The dream came again, but Eragon and Saphira felt the difference immediately. There was no fuzziness, and the voices were clear. And their words reached their ears in full phrases.
It is time, Rider. You must come.
''Time for what?'' Eragon asked. They had never been able to interact with the voices before, but the dream had never been so clear. It was worth a try.
Time for you to come to the Rock of Kuthian. Time for us to reunite.
Saphira turned her head in every direction. They could not determine where the voices where coming from, nor who was speaking. There wasn't even a shadow or figure.
'Who are you? Show yourself!' She demanded.
'You will know. When you reach the Rock, you will know.'
'And where is the Rock of Kuthian? I couldn't even find a mention of it, no matter how much I searched.' Eragon questioned. As an afterthought, he added. 'Where did we meet before? Your voices are familiar.'
'You will know. As for the Rock, some things should not be written. Older dragons and werecats should know.'
'The only older dragon we could ask is mourning his rider. And it was a werecat who told me about the Rock already. He wouldn't tell me more.'
'They know more. They value the information enough not to give it away to anyone.'
'Then how do we convince them to share it with us?' Saphira asked, irritation seeping in her voice.
A deep rumble. 'We dragons are never very patient.' The second voice commented. 'Tell them that you are the Second Rider. They will give you the information you seek.'
'The Second Rider?' Eragon wondered. 'What do you mean?'
'You will know when you reach the Rock.'
'Is there nothing else you can say?' Saphira groaned.
The first voice – the Rider's? – laughed. 'Meet us at the Rock. Then you will understand everything.'
Eragon awoke suddenly.
'Well' He thought to Saphira. 'This was absolutely not frustrating!'