Chapter 4 - The Earl of Palancar Valley
Roran grunted, his muscles shaking from the exertion and his face dripping with perspiration.
"Just a little more lads!" Yelled Horst. The smith stood beside Roran and opposite of Albreich and Baldor as the four of them worked tirelessly to erect the main support beams in what would become the new tavern. Around them, several more villagers held guide lines that would prevent the pieces from spinning or toppling over onto the workers. They had pieced together the massive beams which would be the "bones" of the structure while they lay on the ground as they had no way of lifting the beams - which each weighed several hundred pounds - on top of one another. The main supports, each as wide as a large tree trunk, had already been placed in the ground. Around this, the frame of the building was to be set and then nailed together before the walls could be built. It was this final step on which they were currently working and Roran was silently grateful that it was almost done.
Just a little more…he thought to himself.
Summoning what little remained of his strength, he drove his legs downward into the ground and gave a mighty yell. The final piece of the framework, with an agonizing slowness, began to move upward. Spurred on by Roran's efforts, Albreich and Baldor added their last vestiges of power and, along with Horst, they managed to get the piece of the frame perfectly perpendicular to the ground. Once the piece was set and the villagers were able to tie it off, the four men slumped to the ground. Roran panted and wiped his brow with the back of his hand, ignoring the dirt he smeared along his forehead.
"That's it for me; I'm spent." sighed Horst. "Tie it down and, for the love of the Gods, make sure it is secure. With a bit of luck we can have this place finished, or at least four walls and a roof, before the snow comes." The smith paused before asking, in a quieter voice, "You and the family are welcome to sup with us, Stronghammer. Elain has been asking about you three ever since you moved into your new manor."
"You'd think his Lordship would invite us to dinner. His mansion is big enough for the lot of us!"
Baldor's jest brought about laughter from those within earshot. Roran laughed as well and accepted the invitation.
The villagers had insisted on rebuilding Carvahall in the exact same location, which proved to be more difficult than any of them had previously thought. The biggest problem was that none of them could tell exactly where the ruins lay; whoever had razed the village had done it very well and Roran suspected magic may have been involved. Only by locating a charred remnant from Horst's old house, which they knew rested on the crest of a hill not far from what had been the center of the village, were they able to estimate the rest of the layout. From there, the individual families began to separate and claim the land that had been theirs before their departure. Their first priority, and rightly so with winter moving in quickly, was to get their private homes built first. Roran had worked tirelessly to ensure the continued safety and comfort of those under his care, for he could not forget that Nasuada had made him an Earl; all of Palancar valley was now under his Lordship. His job was made slightly easier by the fact that several hundred of the Varden's warriors, many of whom had fought with Roran or had befriended the other villagers, had decided to accompany him to Carvahall. They insisted vigorously that they would build Roran's estate for him, citing it was their duty to help the hero of the Varden, and cousin to the famous Rider, Eragon Shadeslayer, who had killed the evil tyrant Galbatorix.
Deprived of the joy to build his own home, for he had not the heart to say no to them, he instead busied himself with helping others. As such, the majority of them had a roof over their heads and the rest should be set before the first snowfall of the season; none of them would truly be comfortable for many more months, possibly even years, but at least they would be able to keep themselves warm.
The men went their separate ways for the evening while Roran followed Horst, Albreich and Baldor to their new house on the hill. It lacked the creative nuances of their old house but, in time, they would attempt to achieve at least a modicum of familiarity from their old life. Roran knew, for instance, that Baldor and Albreich were working on carvings of animals that would be placed on the handrails of the staircase and the balusters were to be decorated with a delicate spiral pattern.
Roran entered the doorway last and, as he turned to close the door behind him, his vision was blurred by a cascade of auburn colored hair. Katrina,
He twisted in her arms and hugged her fiercely.
"How did it go with the tavern?" she asked, tightening her grip when he tried to pull away.
He chuckled to himself. "It went fine. The frame is set and, barring any setbacks, the walls should be finished before winter. How goes it here?"
Katrina released him then and shrugged, "It's tough to get much done when Ismira cries for attention so often but Elain and I have been able to finally finish the quilts and begin work on the curtains. Shouldn't be long now."
"And where is our little bundle of joy and tears this evening?" he asked, looking around.
"Sleeping. She only went down about an hour ago. We can wake her for dinner; Elain invited us."
Roran smiled, "So did Horst. Who knew being made an Earl meant so many free meals?"
Katrina smiled then kissed him once more. She then left to help Elain in the kitchen while Roran went to look in on Ismira before washing up for dinner. He tiptoed up the stairs and gently pushed the door open. There, swaddled comfortably in a crib made of gorgeous dark cedar, was his daughter. Roran could not stop the smile that pulled at his lips as he gazed at her. The fire within him that drove him to motivate the village to go to Surda, then to rescue Katrina and then serve the Varden was now directed solely at protecting and loving Ismira. He quietly approached the crib and laid a hand softly on her back. She make a slight noise but did not wake. He leaned down and kissed her on her cheek before stalking out of the room and closing the door as gently as he could.
Dinner was a rather subdued affair; they were all downright exhausted with many more long days ahead of them. Before long, after much yawning and stretching, Elain said, "You three should just stay here tonight. You have to come right back into town first thing in the morning to continue on with the work for the village anyway. Plus, it's getting far too cold to be taking Ismira out so late at night." Her voice was almost pleading. Roran suspected she enjoyed having Katrina around during the day; another female to talk to.
Roran was about to deny the offer as respectfully as he could but Katrina interjected, "Oh Elain that would be lovely! Thank you!"
Horst must have seen the look on his face because before Roran could say anything, the smith nudged him with his elbow and muttered, "Let it be, boy. It's done." Across the table Albreich and Baldor laughed to themselves, able to disguise the mirth as coughing.
Pushing away his initial reluctance, Roran was silently grateful for the hospitality – he was exhausted – and resolved to repay Horst and his family in some way. An idea began to form in is mind though he kept it to himself, unwilling to bring about hope and expectations only to discover it wasn't possible. He made a mental note to consult with Connor, the lone magician who had been sent by Nasuada to help ensure Carvahall's continued safety. Roran had only agreed to the appointment of Connor because, like Nasuada, he realized that magic was the only way to combat magic. Also, he reasoned, it would be useful if for no other reason than for ease of communication.
"Thank you. Your kindness is most appreciated." Roran said. Horst and Elain beamed in response.
The children were put to bed soon after, Ismira's crib being moved into Hope's room. Afterward, the adults lounged about, most of them with a tankard of ale or a glass of wine, too tired to do much but relax. Roran sat in a plush leather chair, Katrina sat on the floor between his legs, her head resting on his knee. They talked and planned their next few days before the conversation dissolved and eyelids began to prove too heavy to keep open. Horst and Elain soon retired for the night followed closely by Albreich and Baldor. Roran remained seated only because he was so comfortable, and so tired, he did not have the energy to move. It was like his limbs were stuck in a thick mud; the more he tried to move the more stuck he became. He listened to Katrina's breathing, a soft cadence that made him smile. Summoning his willpower, he gently shook her awake. "Come on, my sweet. Let's go to bed."
She groaned and gave him a look of feigned anger. Unable to resist, he said, "Come on. Wake up and go to sleep."
He laughed heartily as she slapped him playfully about the legs and arms, laughing as well despite herself. Together, they rose and walked up the stairs and into the guest room. Roran lay down on his back and, almost immediately, felt himself falling into blackness. He felt a blanket being played out around him and the soft form of his love press up against his right side. Her lips brushed his and she lay her head on his shoulder. He smiled. Katrina.
