4. Yazuac
The Riders left Ellesméra the next morning and traveled as swiftly as they could, stopping in every city along the way so Willow would have a bed. After Osilon and Ceunon, they sent Fírnen and Black Thunder on to Varhog's village in an effort to avoid riling up King Kulkarvek. Roran knew to expect them in Therinsford, which is where they next flew. Flying there from Ellesméra had taken them over a fortnight. Willow was thirty-four weeks pregnant and completely miserable, though she never complained.
Rather than going on ahead to Varhog's village as she once thought they might, Willow insisted on visiting Roran and Katrina with Eragon and Arya, as it was a slightly shorter flight than the one from Ceunon to Yazuac. Since she could barely stand to sleep on the ground, she welcomed the chance to be in a bed, though it meant that the trip to Varhog's village would be longer. They planned to stop in Yazuac to break up the normally short flight from Therinsford to Lake Fläm.
Eragon's family was delighted to see all four of the Riders again. They were especially thrilled to meet Brom and to see how much Willow's belly had grown. As planned, though Roran tried to talk them out of it, their visit was brief. Roran and his oldest children were extremely busy tending their fields, which they had planted some weeks earlier. Their location so far north in the mountains forced them to wait until later in the season to avoid late frosts, and Roran had to be most attentive to ensure that his crops would be successful. Taking even a few days to travel to Therinsford for the visit was a considerable sacrifice.
So they stayed one full day and left the following morning, taking their time to wind through the valley and around the lone peak Utgard as they headed south toward Yazuac. When they got within sight, Eragon had Saphira land, so Sunset followed.
Once all four Riders were on the ground, Eragon explained, "After Saphira and I left Carvahall with my father Brom, just months after she first hatched, this is one of the first villages we came to. It had been massacred by Urgals. All of the people were slaughtered, their bodies piled up in the town square with a tiny infant skewered on a spear at the top." Varhog's face took on a pained look.
"It was horrible," Eragon continued. "Garzhvog has assured me that crimes of equal brutality have been committed by humans against Urgralgra villages, where all innocent residents were also murdered in senseless hate. I'm not casting blame here, nor am I dwelling on this to make us all depressed. I simply think it would be wise to assume that Varhog's presence will not be cheerfully greeted in this village. Though that incident was over twelve years ago, I would imagine there's still deep fear and hatred toward Urgals in general. I thought it prudent to warn you so we could plan accordingly. It is now late afternoon, but Daret is not far distant. Perhaps we could try there instead, though all of these northern villages most likely feel much the same. At least Tomath's family might willingly accept Varhog."
"Yarbog went with that raid," Varhog said in a troubled tone, "but most of the rams were from the Tintog clan, which was notoriously more violent. It's so hard for me to understand now, though at the time, I didn't care as much as I should have when he came back bragging about what they had done. I can see why most of the slaughter of humans was done by the younger rams, those without mates who still sought to prove their eligibility. Now that I know how similar our newborn cubs look to those borne by humans, I just don't see how a ram who is a sire could ever look at a human child and take its life." He was silent for a time.
Then he went on, "Relations between our races will never heal if we fear to face those we wronged in the past and apologize for those atrocities. And Willow needs to rest. We'll most likely meet with hostility, but I believe we can work through it. If not, we'll leave. I'm willing to try." He looked at Willow.
"Yes, sweetheart," she agreed, "as am I. I can go on ahead and see about securing some rooms at an inn, if they have something like that. I might be the least unusual-looking of our party, at least in this town, though I'm clothed rather differently from what they'll be used to seeing. What do you think? We can walk from here to there so our dragons don't draw undue notice, then I'll go ahead on foot and you all can follow after a time."
"That sounds like as good a plan as any I could come up with," Eragon said. "Your ears are becoming more pointed, but they're not nearly as pronounced as mine. And your hair will do a better job of hiding them. You have a way with people, Willow. Everyone who meets you soon loves you. I think you're our best hope."
"Do we have any reason to fear for her safety?" Varhog asked in concern.
"Not that I'm aware of, at least as long as they remain ignorant of her relationship with you," Eragon replied. "Hopefully before that comes to light, she'll have had a chance to make a good impression. I wouldn't anticipate any conflict until you show up, in which case she'll be perfectly safe, since you could take them all out with your bare hands. But it won't come to that. We'll leave if it looks like things might get violent."
Varhog nodded. "It is still some distance, Eartheyes. Are you sure you want to walk?"
"Yes," Willow said firmly. "If I tire before we reach the village, I'll sit on Sunset while she walks, but it feels so good to be standing after sitting for so long."
So they made their way toward Yazuac on foot, approaching from the direction that allowed them to avoid the fields of the many farmers. Once they reached the outskirts, they had not spotted nor been seen by any residents of the town. Willow went ahead by herself with a cheerful wave back toward the others.
Willow walked without any bags or weapons, wanting to seem less conspicuous. But her leather leggings and fitted, elbow-length shirt, along with her knee-high leather riding boots, were far different from the modest dresses of the women she passed in the town. She was taller than any of them and though so very pregnant, she still stood with the air of authority shared by all of the Dragon Riders. In spite of that, Willow smiled at everyone she saw, meeting their eyes with kindness when they looked at her. She could see that her appearance was quite shocking to them, though they must surely have had travelers in their village from time to time. But she doubted they were ever tall, pregnant females clothed as she was, apparently traveling alone, who seemed unafraid and kind at the same time.
She addressed a young man she passed who met her gaze with more confidence than most of the others. "Good evening, sir. I'm looking for an inn. Would you be willing to point me in the right direction?"
He pointed and said, "Follow this road until that sign up ahead. Take a right and follow that road until it ends. You'll be at the nearest inn."
"Thank you," Willow said. "Is there more than one inn, then?"
"Only one other," he answered.
"That might be helpful," she said, smiling kindly. "Who might I ask for when I arrive?"
He stammered, "Gareth is the innkeeper's name."
"I appreciate your help, young man," Willow said, and he bowed slightly, obviously feeling like he should. Willow's eyes twinkled in amusement. She couldn't be much older than he was, but she saw that he was intensely curious about her. "Good evening," she said, turning to go.
"Good evening," he called after her.
Willow followed his directions, soon arriving at the inn and walking right in. She had passed a young woman who must have been about fifteen, and Willow felt such compassion for the girl, who seemed shy and awkward and regarded her with amazed deference as she passed. Willow remembered being exactly like that girl at the same age, and yet now she felt so confident and sure of herself. She knew she seemed tall and strong and powerful to these humble villagers, but she was just one of them, given a unique calling and opportunity in her life. Had the Riders remained in Alagaёsia, these people might know her, just as she knew of Eragon and Murtagh. The Riders were legendary, and since they were so mysterious in their remote location, Willow was sure rumors and falsehoods about them abounded.
The room fell silent as she entered, and Willow approached the bar, aware of people trailing in behind her in hopes of figuring out who she was and why she was there.
Willow smiled at the man standing behind the bar, and he returned her gaze, attempting to keep his expression neutral, though she could see the same surprise in his eyes as had been in everyone else's.
"Good evening, sir. I'm looking for the innkeeper, Gareth. Might that be you?"
"Aye, that's correct," Gareth cautiously replied. He appeared to be past middle age, with graying hair at his temples and a slight softness about his waist.
"Wonderful," Willow said. "I'm Willow. As you can surely see, I'm not from here and I come seeking lodging for the evening. Do you happen to have two rooms available?"
"Two? All for you?" he wondered in disbelief before reining in his expression, looking apologetic.
"No, though I probably could make a case for needing two, what with my enormous size," Willow said with an easy laugh.
Gareth smiled. "You do appear to be nearly at your time," he boldly said, then once again realized he might have spoken out of turn and looked worried.
Willow laughed again. "You must be experienced in these matters. Are you a father?"
"Aye, of eight fine children," Gareth proudly answered.
"Eight! How splendid! Sons, daughters, some of each?" Willow wondered eagerly, truly interested in the humble man, just as she was in all people.
"We first had a daughter, then seven strong sons followed. My wife kept wanting another daughter for the oldest, but by the time she could have no more, the daughter was married and had a daughter of her own. She now has four daughters. Seems she got the younger sisters she always wanted, only as daughters."
"Oh, how lovely!" Willow exclaimed. "So at least four grandchildren. Any more?"
"Aye. My four oldest sons are married. Between them, I have six grandchildren and one on the way."
"That makes ten altogether, right?" Willow confirmed.
"That's right," Gareth agreed.
"My husband comes from a family of eight children, and we have fourteen nieces and nephews," Willow said. "My own birth family has all passed away, so marrying into that was a dream come true." Willow kept asking questions, getting the man to talk about his family for another ten minutes. When Gareth seemed to realize all his talking might be rude, he silenced himself, but Willow was perfectly at ease.
She said, "This is a lovely place you have here. Have you always been innkeeper?"
"For about twelve years," Gareth responded, and Willow remembered the number from Eragon's reminiscing. "We moved up here from Daret after the massacre. Bad times, they were."
"Do you happen to have those two rooms?" Willow gently reminded.
"What? Oh yes! For a paying customer, I have two rooms free."
"Well, I'm a paying customer," she said, smiling.
"You mentioned a husband," Gareth said. "Where is he? Why did you come here alone? And you're dressed so differently from anyone I've ever seen."
Willow saw that it was her turn to answer questions, but the man seemed genuinely interested, just as she was. "Yes, my husband stayed behind with the others in our party to tend to our mounts. I'm dressed this way because riding sidesaddle in my condition might be even more uncomfortable than having to ride in the first place. Though I appear to be at my time or beyond, I still actually have five weeks before I reach full term, which makes me thinks I'm most likely carrying twins." She of course knew she was having twins, but she also knew Gareth would be confused if she acted so certain.
"Is that so?" Gareth declared. "Well, congratulations then, Willow. You could have put your horses up in my stable for the night."
Willow grinned. "I think our mounts will be more comfortable where we left them."
Willow could see that he was curious, but he didn't press the matter. "Well, will your husband and these others be along shortly? He must be quite the man to have won someone like yourself."
"Thank you, kind sir!" Willow said. "My husband is the most amazing man in the world, and he feels extremely blessed to have me, though I assure you, I am the more fortunate of the two of us. You'll never meet a kinder, gentler, more thoughtful person in all your life."
"With praise such as that, I'm most anxious to meet him. Will he be coming soon?"
Willow assumed a worried look, which she partly feigned and partly didn't. "I'm afraid you might not be as anxious to meet him as you say. He stayed behind for another reason. Though it pains me to say, I fear he will be most unwelcome here."
"No, surely not!" Gareth exclaimed. "Why would that be?"
"Most people who meet him immediately fear and hate him," Willow said sadly. "If they could see past his appearance, they would come to know the kindest, wisest person, but most refuse to see past his face."
"Is he deformed?" Gareth wondered, unable to understand why Willow would say such a thing.
"No, not at all. His face is perfectly formed for one of his race and quite handsome, if you ask me. Though I'm quite biased, as you can imagine."
Gareth's face took on a strange look at the word 'race.' "He is of a different race? Did you marry an elf?"
"No, sir," Willow said, very quietly adding, "My husband is an Urgal ram."
Gareth tensed, his expression transforming to one of stunned shock. The relative silence in the room as most people listened to the conversation became profound and complete. "An Urgal?" Gareth repeated. "Are you trying to be funny?"
"No, Gareth," Willow said seriously. "Some who know me might think I'm funny, but all who know me would unfailingly agree that my most defining characteristic is honesty. I'm telling you the truth. I'm married to an Urgal ram, and as I said before, he is the kindest, gentlest, most thoughtful person I have ever met."
"That's impossible," Gareth denied firmly.
"Not only is it possible," Willow said gently, "it is true. I married him because he's my best friend and I love him. If you would look past his horns and his eyes, you would see what I have come to see in the eight years I've known him. He's kind and wise and selfless—a person, not a monster. He fought with the Varden against Galbatorix, but since the end of the war, he has never taken a life in cold blood."
Gareth struggled to reply to this. "How would you have even met him? You aren't from up north. I can tell from your voice. Where are you from anyway? And why are you up here?" He was growing suspicious.
Willow sighed sadly. "I wish you wouldn't distrust me, Gareth. Everything I've told you is true. I'm originally from Feinster, which is where I lived when my dragon, Sunset, hatched for me, though that happened in Ilirea. I'm a Dragon Rider, sir. I met my husband on the Isle of the Eldunarí. He was there because he is the first Urgal Dragon Rider—Varhog of the Bolvek tribe, which dwells just southwest of Daret near Lake Fläm. We're here with two other Dragon Riders, Eragon and Arya Shadeslayer, whose names you surely recognize. We were visiting Eragon's cousin, Roran Stronghammer, Earl of Palancar Valley, and we are traveling back to my husband's village so we can be there when I have these babies. Traveling is extremely uncomfortable for me, so we decided to stop here overnight so I can rest in a bed rather than on the ground. That is the full and honest truth. If you can't peacefully accept my husband here, then I'll trouble you no longer. If you are certain the other innkeeper would feel the same, we'll stay outside of town where our dragons are and leave you in peace. I am weary, Gareth. What say you?"
Gareth was once again silent, his mask of shock as pronounced as before. Finally he managed to say, "Do you know what Urgals once did to the village of Yazuac?"
"I do," Willow replied. "Right before we got here, Eragon told us of the tragedy that befell those poor, innocent people. He and his dragon chanced upon it just after it happened. Hearing the account deeply troubled my husband. His older brother was with the rams who attacked and killed them all. I even know they speared a tiny baby, leaving it atop the pile of bodies. As you can likely guess, that's the most abominable crime imaginable in my mind. And Varhog's too. He's so kind and tender with children, and he's so excited to be a father. If you would only look past that he's an Urgal, or even better, accept that he's an Urgal and also capable of being humane and compassionate, you would come to see the truest, most loyal friend, someone who would give his life for another."
Tears came to Willow's eyes in her sincerity. "We cannot even begin to enumerate all of the ways Urgals have wronged humans in the past many centuries, but let us not forget how many times humans have also wronged Urgals. I have lived among them, Gareth. Their culture is completely misunderstood, but it would do no good for me to go into all that when I can see that you're still having trouble accepting that I'm married to an Urgal and expecting his children. He grows worried. My dragon just told me that, and I hear her in my mind. Will you still consent to letting us two rooms, or shall I simply leave?"
"I . . . I hardly know what to say, Willow," Gareth confessed. "To have four Dragon Riders stay here—among them the two most famous in Alagaёsia for bringing down Galbatorix and Shruikan—would be an incredible honor, but my prejudice toward Urgals runs so deep. Don't they feel the same way about humans? Why would he have wanted to marry you?"
Willow smiled, sitting on one of the barstools since her pelvis was aching from standing for so long. "The first thing that struck him about me was that I was completely unafraid of him, completely unbiased. I was interested in getting to know him as a person, and I didn't let any preconceived notions about him being an Urgal get in my way. That impressed him, but it was when I was able to subdue him in hand-to-hand combat that he knew he would always be forced to regard me as more than a friend."
"You can defeat an Urgal ram in single combat?" Gareth scoffed. "Stronghammer's the only human with that reputation, and he's powerfully strong."
"I'm not powerfully strong, though I'm strong for a human female thanks to my bond with a dragon. But I'm quick, and my smaller size makes it possible. I jump on his back, cinch my arms around his neck, and hold tightly until he loses consciousness, or nearly does, at least. I've only actually made him go unconscious twice in all the times we've fought. One of those times was when I had to prove to his village that I was worthy to have him as my mate, because you're right, Gareth. Urgals generally find humans as repulsive as the other way around and his clan wouldn't accept that Varhog wanted me as his mate. I had to fight three rams that day, and I subdued them all, even their war chief, Nar Garzhvog, who is a Kull warrior."
"That's amazing," Gareth said in awe. "I want to let you these two rooms, but I'm worried about how the villagers will receive an Urgal ram. Most will run out into the streets with their weapons, prepared to hack him to the ground."
"That won't happen," Willow said. "I'll go. It might be best, so he doesn't come looking for me, if you're so sure that will be the reaction. He's terrifyingly strong and deadly when he wants to be, which is rarely. But when my safety is in question, he is."
"Blast, Willow! Now I'm so curious to meet this Urgal ram who sounds like such a conundrum for one of his race. I'll come with you to escort you back to my inn, but he had best come unarmed."
"He will," Willow promised. "He doesn't need a weapon to defend himself or me, but he won't be violent. I guarantee it. If he senses that we're not welcome, we'll leave. Just like that. All he cares about is my safety and my comfort. He hoped we could achieve both by staying here, but my safety is more important than my comfort. We'll be back home tomorrow. One more night on the ground won't kill me." She smiled and stood, noticing that a number of other people in the room did as well.
"They wouldn't miss this for the world," Gareth muttered as he grabbed a lantern. "This is the most exciting thing to ever happen in Yazuac. It will be good for them to be present as well, since they overheard everything we just said. They can help me convince any others who might object to your husband's presence."
"Thank you, Gareth," Willow said, following him out of the inn. "This means so much to me." She communicated with Sunset that she was on her way with an escort back to the inn to ensure that Varhog would not be attacked. They made their way to the outskirts of the village, but didn't have to go as far as Willow expected. Varhog, Eragon and Arya had begun walking toward the village after learning the plan from Sunset.
Willow went right to Varhog and put her arms around him. "I was getting worried, Eartheyes," he admitted.
"I'm sorry, sweetheart. I got carried away chatting with the innkeeper, Gareth. He had eight children too, just like mother. Here, let me introduce you." She pulled on his hand, leading him over to Gareth. Varhog towered over him, of course, though Gareth was not overly short for a man. He was a few inches taller than Willow. "Gareth, this is my husband, Varhog. Varhog, this is Gareth, the innkeeper. He has agreed to let us stay in his inn for the night."
-:-:-
Varhog slowly extended his hand, knowing it was unlikely that the man would reciprocate his greeting. Gareth warily looked up at him without responding, so Varhog left his hand out and spoke instead. "It's nice to meet you, Gareth. Thank you for agreeing to let us stay at your inn. I know Willow will be so much more comfortable in a bed than on the ground, and that's all that matters to me. I realize how hard this must be for you since I'm an Urgal, and I appreciate that you're willing to tolerate this arrangement, though it must be only reluctantly." Varhog held his hand out a moment longer, giving the man a chance to shake it.
Gareth almost didn't, but at the last second, he raised his hand and briefly grasped Varhog's. Varhog carefully matched the innkeeper's strength so he wouldn't seem overbearing.
Gareth shook his head. "I can't believe I just shook hands with an Urgal. I don't know that I can honestly say it's nice to meet you too, Varhog, but I was curious to meet you after Willow's unlikely description conflicted with every deep-seated belief I hold about Urgals. They are continuing to be challenged with every passing second. Come along before it gets much later. Meals are provided as part of the room price. Supper will still be hot if we go now."
Willow said, "Gareth, would you also like to meet Eragon and Arya?"
"What? Oh! Of course! Where are my manners? Such famous guests as these. I would be honored, most honored. We had heard rumors that the Dragon Riders had returned to Alagaёsia and that the high queen had even married one, but we never expected to see any in our humble village."
Willow smiled and said, "Gareth, meet Eragon, who truly is a human from Carvahall, as his beard clearly proves, though his ears suggest otherwise."
Eragon laughed and extended his hand. Gareth was able to accept his much more easily than he had Varhog's. "Thank you for letting us stay tonight, kind sir," Eragon said. "My wife and son will also be more comfortable in a bed than on the ground."
"Wife? Son?" Gareth repeated in confusion.
"Aye," Eragon replied. "Arya Shadeslayer—who fought determinedly by my side in the war against Galbatorix and slew his great dragon—is now my wife, and we just had our first son seven weeks ago."
Gareth turned toward Arya, who held the sleeping Brom in her arms. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Gareth," Arya said politely. "I'm most appreciative of your kindness. This is our son, Brom."
"The pleasure is all mine," Gareth stammered, amazed by the kindness and deference he was receiving from these two legendary figures. "What a beautiful child. I had eight and now have ten grandchildren, and though they were the most beautiful babies in their father's and grandfather's eyes, I truly have never seen a more beautiful child than that. With such a lovely mother and handsome father, it's no surprise, I suppose."
"Thank you," Arya murmured with a pleased smile. "You know I agree, but I'm his mother, so it hardly counts."
"I see two dragons, but should there not be four?" Gareth wondered as his eyes fell on Saphira and Sunset.
Arya answered, "My own dragon and Varhog's flew on ahead of us when we left Ceunon. The presence of so many dragons near the home of the Urgal king in Anghelm led to some conflict during the winter, and we wanted to avoid stirring it up once again. That's why you see only two. The larger blue one is Saphira, Eragon's dragon. The other is Sunset, Willow's dragon. They will stay here for the night and not disturb any of the villagers' flocks."
"What a sight! Two magnificent dragons. I consider myself a lucky man," Gareth admitted. "The Dragon Riders have been so distant for so many years that some of us started believing they meant never to return. Well, Willow, I can now see why you said your mounts would be more comfortable here. They never would have fit in my stables, now would they?"
"No, sir," Willow agreed with a weary laugh.
"You are tired, my dear," Gareth said in concern. "Let's return now before darkness falls." He turned to find a large crowd of villagers behind him. "Make way!" he called. "We have some honored guests staying in Yazuac tonight. And there had better not be any violence toward the Urgal! These Dragon Riders could no doubt kill us all, but they wish to rest peacefully in my inn, and so they will. Go on then, go on. Come meet them in the morning if you must, but let them through to a hot meal and warm bed." Gareth shooed people out of the way, and Willow fell in behind him, followed by Varhog, Arya, and Eragon.
Varhog stood at least a head taller than anyone else, and his great horns made him seem even taller. The crowd was cautiously watchful as they passed. Gareth's warning had spread ahead of them, and the story of what had transpired between Willow and Gareth in the inn was also circulating, though—as is the case with rumors—there were already misrepresentations. Muttered whispers from the villagers reached their ears, some sounding angry, some disbelieving, many amazed and wondering. All four Riders looked around themselves at the humble people, smiling in a friendly way to show they didn't think of themselves as superiors. To see Varhog smile and seem friendly was surely the most shocking sight for anyone.
They quickly arrived at the inn. Gareth's family had been notified of their father's famous guests, and they had gathered themselves together—even the small children, though it was now near their bedtime—to meet the Dragon Riders and learn if the rumors about an Urgal were true. They soon saw they were, for no one could miss Varhog. He continued to regard the villagers in patient understanding, knowing how much most of these people feared and hated everything to do with his race and hoping this could be a beginning to overcoming some of that enmity if he portrayed a different image of what an Urgal ram could be like.
One brave young man approached Varhog, though his mother fearfully tried to hold him back. "Sir," he said to Varhog, "is it true that your brother killed some of the villagers in Yazuac during the last massacre twelve years ago?"
Varhog squatted down so his head was slightly lower than the young man's. "Aye, that's true," he said softly, "though it pains me to admit it, young man."
Standing again so they could all clearly see him, Varhog raised his voice so everyone would hear. "I know it can hardly even begin to make up for it, but I'm so sorry for how much you have suffered and feared because of my race. We were often deserving of the hatred we received. Our enmity is based on so much misunderstanding. Thanks to my beautiful wife here—a human who has never feared or hated me from the moment we first met—I was able to realize just how wrong I was to believe as I did. We have come to love one another and our respective races, and we hope that will be an example for humans and Urgals everywhere as we slowly work to repair past wrongs and establish peace.
"We Urgals are trying to change our ways and make the inevitable conflict of the past less common. Not all of the clans feel exactly as mine, but we're working on it, for your safety and ours. I'm so sorry to everyone here who remembers the brutality of that massacre twelve years ago. I can barely imagine how traumatizing that would have been. It angers and saddens me that my people, even one of my own brothers, were responsible for that death and carnage. I'm getting ready to become a father for the first time, and such senseless violence fills me with dread. If we can't overcome our hatred and enmity, we need all fear the future our children might live in this land. For the sake of our children, let us lay aside our differences and begin to understand one another better. Both Willow and I have lived among Urgals and humans in the months of our marriage, and the children in each village were always the first to accept the different one. They have always been the example of acceptance and friendship. I humbly ask you to consider following it."
Varhog ended his stirring speech, and more than one eye was teary as the people heard it. Here was an Urgal ram who spoke eloquently, with words of apology and regret. He spoke of peace and friendship, which was almost impossible for them to believe, but it planted the seed, and some began nurturing it. It was a start.