Chapter 6 - Fricai Onr Eka Eddyr
"We march to Kuasta? It is folly."
"Wars are won upon victories others claimed were follies until their enemies lay slain beneath their feet."
~Arya Dröttningu (first speaker) and Eragon Shadeslayer (second speaker)
Eragon rode at the head of the Varden Army, having started their long march to Kuasta about twelve hours ago, stopping for quick respites every once in a while. It would almost take three days for an army of this size to get to the city. About forty score men, dwarves, and elves marched, armored, grim, and ready. From Belatona, it was about two-hundred fifty leagues to get to Kuasta.
It was barely a fraction of the Varden. Their army had been split so they could protect more, about fifty score at Farthen Dûr, about as much at various areas in Surda and other surrounding Varden cities. In the end, they had about four-hundred score, but right now, they needed not that many to besiege and overtake one city.
Saphira flew above them, the dreamwraiths invisibly trailing the dragoness, the blue dragon dropping back to speak with a few of them, which she could see only because she flew among them. From the ground and anywhere else in the air, they could not be seen. Despite his protests, Calayn, Kalyn, and a few others of the dreamwraiths rode on horses near him, Arya at his right, King Orrin at his left, the other leaders in the first rank alongside him.
The Varden had grown accustomed to the dreamwraiths in the week since his return from Vroengard, many of them befriending the quiet beings who had quickly teamed up with the twelve elven spellcasters, the elves grateful to have additional guards for the Dragon Rider. Blödhgarm and Kalyn had become quick friends, the two now riding beside each other, talking casually, laughing every once in a while.
"How will we enter the city? The walls are said to be as strong as Urû'baen itself," Arya asked.
"Nasuada tells me that we can infiltrate the caste, deal with the gatekeepers, and open the gates, holding off the soldiers until the Varden can come in. What more, we cannot let any soldier escape, so we shall besiege the whole city."
The elf princess looked at him in confusion, "Why can we not?"
He indicated the dreamwraiths.
"Should Galbatorix not know of them, it would give us an enormous advantage in any following battles. They would only expect Saphira attacking from the skies, not so many dreamwraiths who are almost as deadly as her."
Arya nodded in realization.
Nasuada reined in her horse, the rest of the army stopping as the officers roared orders to halt.
About a hundred Imperial soldiers stood in the broad path, their weapons sheathed, a blood-red symbol of the Empire, a horned skull of a dragon, emblazoned on their pitch-black breastplates.
"Hail, Varden! I wish to speak with the Lord Rider Eragon Shadeslayer!" the man at the front called, pulling off his helmet, a wicked-looking one too. He was clearly a veteran, having many scars across his once-handsome face, long, black hair tied back in a ponytail, hard, cold eyes surveying the huge army without any trace of fear.
Eragon spurred his horse forward, riding a few paces forward from the first rank, "Hail, I am Eragon Shadeslayer!"
The man bowed, "My lord, me and my men have been searching for you! It has been many years since we last met, my Lord Rider."
Uneasy silence.
The man noticed the hesitance, and raised his hands, "Mor'ranr, Shur'tugal. Eka malabra ono né haina."
Eragon urged his horse towards the soldiers, leaping off the stallion to land in front of the man, comparably small to the bulky warrior. He reached about ten hands in height, broad-shouldered and his scars proved his toughness. He held out a hand, one Eragon took as the two powerful warriors shook hands heartily.
"I have met you before?" Eragon asked.
The man nodded, "Yes, my lord, it was perhaps fifteen years ago. My name is Captain Ralmir, of Lathina. When I heard of your appearance and your feats, me and those loyal to our oath came to find you."
"I seem to be receiving a lot of oaths these days," the Rider said wryly.
"I was good friends with your father, Brom," Ralmir said. "When Galbatorix struck down the Riders, Brom came to me and I swore an oath to protect his son."
"How?" Eragon asked with shock. "You…"
"Look younger than a hundred? Yes, but to be truthful, I am one-hundred fifty-eight years old."
Those who could hear stared in wonder, save his soldiers, similarly armored and all well-built and armed.
The man pursed his lips.
"It was both a blessing and a curse. The warriors of Lathina are given reprieve from age and sickness, but we may die from wounds and magic. We fear nothing but to die in a bed from a fatal wound, for we would rather die in the blaze of a battle, for glory, honor, and for our belief. For a hundred years, I served Galbatorix, waiting for the son Brom told me he had foreseen. He went to a seer, and was told his son would be born of a woman who was bound by black chains and a tower of magic. When he met Selena, it was fulfilled. And thus here I am, a warrior in your service, my liege."
The soldiers all dropped on one knee, their right or left fist to their heart, most likely their dominant hand. Their heads were bowed, and it was a strange and frightening sight for they all moved in unison with lethal grace and with brute strength an elf could probably not match.
"On your feet, Captain Ralmir."
The man rose to his feet, once more standing taller than the Rider.
"So tell me… how did you meet me?"
The man smiled, "It was when you were but a wee child, my lord. Brom, before the soldiers came to Carvahall, was close to Garrow and his wife. Then the soldiers came, and the two agreed to stay apart to avoid suspicion. Anyways, Brom contacted me through a wolf messenger, and that is where I met you, Lord Eragon. You were a very curious child."
"Nasuada, get me a horse!"
A soldier quickly ran to the back, unhitching a stallion from a cart to run the great beast over to them.
"Please, ride with me. Your men can join the ranks of the vanguard, we always have room for more people."
The man hauled himself up with practiced ease as he shouted some orders, the men quickly getting to their feet to join the vanguard of the army.
As the army resumed their march, Ralmir told his story.
"It was simple. Either I joined the Empire's army, or I died, so to help me in my promise to protect you, I joined. I told the original men who were with me, for Brom had saved me and my men's lives with his dragon years back. The men called him 'brother' for that is what we called a man we trusted and would fight for. Most of us still live, though some have passed into the starlit path. Others have heard our story and are willing to fight for you, my lord."
"You say your men are blessed and cursed with immortality?"
Ralmir nodded his head grimly.
"We cannot marry. The oath gave us long life, for unknowingly, Brom used magic to lengthen my lifetime to the point where the end is too far to consider a time. Should we give another oath that lasts our lifetime, it would kill us. We cannot have conflicting oaths. Some of us died for that very reason until we learned."
Eragon pitied the man.
"I am sorry, captain."
"It is but a price we are all willing to make to honor Brom. He was a great man and we respected him greatly for he truly cared for our wellbeing. He was a man I was proud to serve under."
Arya rode up on the other side of Eragon, her elven mare, bred for speed and strength, snorting softly, talking to Eragon's stallion.
"Did Galbatorix not make you give an oath of fealty?" she asked.
The man shook his head, "He may be a bastard and a tyrant, but he has a sense of honor. He understands my vows, and he also understands that I am a future enemy, yet he did not slay me for he also knew I was a worthy opponent. It will be the same for you, Eragon Shadeslayer. No matter what the people say, he… is understanding."
Arya looked at the man as if he had just said the moon was green and had ducks floating on it.
Ralmir caught her incredulous gaze, and sighed, putting his helmet on the little knob on the backside of the saddle.
"He is, truly, but in his own, strange way, if maybe slightly perverse and twisted. He may not understand mercy, grace, forgiveness, and love, but he does understand how it feels to follow through on a promise, and more over that, he understands war. He will not kill a warrior in cold blood. It will only be through fair combat."
"For some reason, that gives me little comfort," Eragon chuckled.
Ralmir smirked confidently, "You are Brom's son, are you not? I fear not."
Arya gently drew Eragon aside, his horse following hers as they pulled ahead of the army, aware of the confused eyes on their backs as she bent in towards him as he leaned his head sideways, her lips grazing his ear. He had grown used to her actions and he knew she was about to ask something she did not others to hear.
"Do you trust him?" she asked quietly. "It seems too coincidental. Galbatorix does not make him swear loyalty in the Ancient Language, he comes to us right before a battle…"
"He said he meant me no harm in the Ancient tongue, he cannot go back on his word."
Calayn rode up beside them, grim and wary.
"If the princess is telling you that she is unsure of their loyalty, I am here to agree with her."
Arya gave a nod.
"I need not worry. After all, I have Saphira and fifty dreamwraiths who can easily slaughter a score of soldiers," he smiled. "I can worry about myself, Arya. I am not one of those human children."
She gave him a glare, "Do not misquote me, Eragon Bromsson."
He smirked playfully as Calayn laughed quietly.
"Misquote? I simply said that on my own accord," he lied playfully.
"Perhaps a prolonged swim in the lake would prove your lie otherwise?"
He threw his hands up in the air in exasperation, "Bah! How am I supposed to have any fun with you two criticizing my every move? And to tell the truth, I do remember Ralmir now, though he had a lot less scars last time I saw him."
Calayn shrugged, "If you trust the man, I shall not say anything against your word, Lord Rider. But you have my word that I shall be keeping a sharp eye on him and his men."
"As will I," Arya said sharply, giving Calayn a commending nod. "One false move, and I shall spit his body on the wrong end of my sword."
"Wrong end as in the hilt?"
He laughed as she punched his shoulder, his horse leaping forward as the beast spun on its hooves, prancing as if it was dancing.
Calayn raised an eyebrow, as did half the army.
His horse stopped as Eragon held up his arms in mock approval for the applause, bowing.
Arya smiled as Nasuada laughed, "Come, I see the plain! We shall rest here for the night!"
Eragon, Arya, Ralmir, Calayn, and Saphira all sat by a fire (or lay, in Saphira's case), watching the stars as a hundred other campfires burned, loud and raucous songs coming from the main bonfire as a man danced to the cheers of his comrades.
So tell me, captain, Saphira said. Was Eragon always reckless or did he just become reckless over the years?
Eragon glared at his dragoness as the others laughed good-naturedly.
"Actually, I think so," Ralmir chuckled, patting Eragon's back. "Thing is he just wasn't big enough to get his head into big trouble, so it was fine. The worst that could happen was that he was reckless enough to fight a dog, perhaps."
"Already done," Eragon grunted, receiving laughter from his friends. Saphira thrummed with laughter, her tail wrapping around her Rider protectively.
Not that long ago, Ralmir and his men had sworn fealty to Eragon in the Ancient tongue, erasing most doubt from their minds and putting most of them at ease. They all had their suspicions, but they swore to protect Eragon with their lives and to fight for the Varden as long as they had breath in their nostrils and lungs. It was enough for the Dragon Rider, though Blödhgarm had reluctantly agreed to it.
Many of them had been shocked when Ralmir introduced his men—and women. They were slight of build, made like Arya, slender yet under their skin they held nothing but sheer muscle and deathly elegance. They were either beautiful or ruggedly attractive, and that also somewhat put them on edge, for not many women other than elven women fought, and to have humans who were immortal was strange as it was, but women?
Ralmir had explained that their warriors were taken from a tribe beyond the Hadarac, where women, if they could fight, were treated as warriors and respected. They all seemed deadly enough by the sheer fire and venom in their eyes as Eragon spoke with them, all of them eyeing him with a critical eye, finding him satisfactory, physically strong, and mentally strong. They had given him a powerful slap on the shoulder as he did the same, later figuring out it was a greeting between warriors to show that pain did not faze them.
"Lathina is on the edge of the Hadarac, and it is a place the Empire does not dare try to fully control. We govern ourselves, and many of the men are loyal to Brom for he came to help us when Urgal tribes attacked. I only brought a small number of the three-thousand loyalists in fear that we may be attacked, but should I call, the whole army of Lathina shall come to your aid, my lord," Ralmir had said when Eragon had asked where Lathina was. "Our warriors our tough, one man is worth at least five of the Empire's, that is why they are cautious when dealing with us. Our shield walls are impenetrable, a well-equipped wall of a hundred men can hold off a thousand with ease."
"I have heard but mere stories of shield walls," Arya said. "Is it not that your shields are made in a certain shape that they can be interlocked?"
"That is correct, Princess Arya. We have the outer ranks lock their shields in a tight circle, the others raising their shields above their heads to protect from arrows and spears. We then attack with our long-shafted spears to strike at the enemy before they can get into sword range."
"An impressive feat, one not many armies have dared to try," Arya said, nodding her approval.
Ralmir leaned back, sighing softly, "So it is Kuasta we attack?"
"You heard correctly, friend," Eragon grunted. "But I must say it is not a task that many armies would relish tackling on their best day. The walls are thick and high, the men brave and brawn."
"You have dreamwraiths, no?"
Eragon looked startled, "You know of them?"
The man shrugged, "Only me and my men, the Empire knows not. I can sense them, but only distantly. I can never tell how many, only if they are near."
"I am a dreamwraith," Calayn said.
"Ah, so that is why I felt your presence. An honor, milady," Ralmir said, inclining his head. He then stroked his trimmed beard.
"Lady Calayn, do you believe your kin and kith could each fly with two people on their back, armored and bulky?"
"Our wings are strong, captain, I believe we could manage."
Her eyes lit with realization as his plan became obvious to them.
"We fly men in."
Ralmir nodded, "Precisely. If you wish, I can take twenty of my men and storm the ramparts while you and the rest of the men can open the gates and hold the soldiers off with the dreamwraiths. I have heard but legends of their ferocity being a rival to even a dragon's."
Saphira thrummed, They are powerful allies, without a doubt.
Calayn smiled, leaning against the dragon she had swiftly befriended.
"I believe that is a good plan," Eragon agreed. "Calayn, how many dreamwraiths are in your clan?"
"Fifty-eight, ten more, but I do not think they are old enough to carry two fully armored warriors."
"Then we shall make do. I think it would be best if we attack at night, we should march the night, and then rest tomorrow day. It may seem strange, but it would be best. Anyways, it is easier to stand guard in broad daylight than night," Arya said.
Eragon got up, "I shall go inform Nasuada. We must rouse the camp and start the march over again."
When the march began once again, the moon was high in the night sky, gleaming down on the army as they marched down the path. Some soldiers were sleeping on the shoulder of their neighbors, somehow resting while marching in perfect sync. Nasuada had quickly agreed, though many of the soldiers were horrified to learn they were marching through the night, though none disagreed with the logic.
Eragon and Arya rode a farther than the rest, scouting and relating information the Nasuada through the mind bond he shared with the dreamwraiths, namely Calayn, who was riding beside the Varden leader, telling him whatever her liege lord told her.
The Rider reeled back on his horse's rein, which he had come to call Dancer due to the horse's nimbleness and coordination. Dancer could do a quick reverse, trot backwards, trot sideways, spin in circles, and rear on his hind legs, backing up a few steps before leaping forward again, all quite amazingly and expertly executed.
He patted Dancer's neck, looking around as Arya stopped her horse, her sensitive ears twitching slightly at every sound.
"Hav'er vel lan?" she asked softly.
"Hljödhrin," he hissed, slipping off his horse. He motioned for her to dismount as they slipped through the forest, Eragon telling the horses to stay where they were as quietly as they could.
My lord?
Calayn, I think I hear something. Wait a few moments.
Of course, my lord.
Eragon soundlessly slipped through the trees, parting a bush.
An army.
He could see the red and black armor of Imperial soldiers as Arya surveyed the men without any reaction, her eyes icy cold as usual.
Maybe five-thousand Imperial soldiers. Tell Captain Ralmir and his men to come to me with the dreamwraiths, dismounted and quiet as they can.
Yes, my lord.
A few minutes later, Ralmir crouched by them, his sword drawn and his helmet pulled on, though his visor was raised. He eyed the soldiers, calculating their chances.
"I believe we can take them," the captain whispered. "The dreamwraiths are invisible, let them come after us, we can take the brunt of the blow, they can slaughter everyone else with ease."
"Calayn, is she here?" Eragon asked.
A cloaked figure slipped through the darkness, "Right here, Lord Rider," she said quietly, pulling back her hood to reveal her beautiful face.
"Tell your kin and kith to follow behind Ralmir's men, Arya and I shall be with them. Try to stay alive," he smirked.
She gave a lopsided smile.
"I always have, milord," she said, her exotic accent alluring and wonderfully beautiful. Her "r's" vanished slightly, giving her a more lilting pronunciation.
He pushed back his distracting feelings, motioning for Ralmir's men to draw their swords as quietly as possible as they noiselessly ghosted through the trees, the fires dim, the few guards talking idly, unable to see the mostly-black armored men coming towards them.
Arya's fingers curled as she whispered a few words, and the five guards fell down, their necks bent at awkward angles.
Eragon held up his hand, his conscience telling him this was dishonorable.
He grabbed a bowl made of clay, the size of his chest, and threw it on the stone pit.
The shattering sound was like thunder in the silence.
The camp sprang awake, the men diving for their weaponry, only to find a sword stabbed through their hearts before their hands could even touch the handles.
A few soldiers cried out in alarm before they were silenced by a storm of blades, but it was useless, the whole camp was already awoken. Ralmir shrugged at Eragon, knowing that the young man's heart had been feeling guilty about slaying unarmed and sleeping men.
Eragon slashed through a man, the soldier still half asleep as he desperately swung his sword, Eragon's easily throwing it aside. In the next instant, Brisingr was buried hilt-deep into the man's chest. He spun to block another blade, letting Arya dispose of him as she ran her blades through the back of his neck, kicking him to the ground for dead.
The dreamwraiths could not be seen, but whenever they saw torn and mutilated bodies, you knew where they had been. A man screamed as his chest was torn open, throwing away by a punch too powerful to be human.
Twirling his sword in his hand, he lopped the head off a yelling man, ending his pain with a deft flick of his wrist as Eragon used the next flick to disarm a man before Ralmir grabbed him, breaking his neck with a violent twist of his muscled arms. He tossed the dead man to the ground, surveying the carnage.
"Is that everyone?" Eragon demanded.
Calayn walked over, licking the blood off her fingers like a cat. It was somewhat disturbing until he remembered she had probably been in "the kill," and she was part beast, part human. The beast of her was right now in charge of her body.
Her eyes blazed as she noticed what she was doing, grimacing with disgust as she spat out blood and saliva.
"Hence why I prefer staying in one form for longer than ten minutes," she grumbled. "Kalyn and fifteen of his friends went into the forest to hunt down the ones who escaped, only thirty or-so got away. They will all be dead in the hour."
Eragon grunted, "Galbatorix would be so very proud of what we just did."
The dreamwraith woman looked at him with eyes that spoke too much, showing him that she adored him for who he was, the Lord Rider, and her new friend and protector.
"Eragon, you are nothing like that bastard murderer and traitor," she whispered, gently taking his face between her slender fingers, still bloodied from Imperial blood, but his face was blood-stained too. "Galbatorix would not look upon me and my brothers and sisters with compassion as you did."
"But he would have slaughtered five-thousand men at the dead of night."
"But with warning?"
She smiled triumphantly as he came up short of an answer, "Exactly, my lord."
He took her hands in his, bringing them away from his dirty face.
"Things are changing."
"Then I shall be the stone of consistency for you to hold onto, milord."
He gave a small smile to return her beautiful one.
"Just be my friend, and I think I shall be fine, Calayn."
"I would march through the Land of the Tormented and back through for you, my lord. Being a friend is simple enough."
Translation: Fricai Onr Eka Eddyr(title) – I am Your Friend
Mor'ranr, Shur'tugal. Eka malabra ono né haina – Peace, Dragon Rider. I mean you no harm
Hav'er vel lan? – What is it?
Hljödhrin – Silence/quiet
TN: hav'er, vel,and lan are my words. Hljödhrin is in a way, I just changed the word for "silent" a bit to make it into "silence," I just added an "-in" to the end.
AN: MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH, THIS CHAPTER IS MUCH BETTER AHAHDLSKJ and as you can see, I have been in a very Eragon-y mood… I've been writing so much for this Inheritance fanfic… Ok, anyways, yesh. You can see that in the few days between this chapter and the last, maybe… eight days? They say week in a general term, not necessarily seven days… and hey, this is Alagaësia, not Earth, so they may have different weeks… Paolini never mentioned how long their years, days, and weeks were, did he?... oh well…Anyways, yes, Calayn and Eragon have become close friends ^-^ after all, he is the Lord Rider, and she's supposed to be his protector, duh?... (like Cara and Richard) soo… yeah. GOODBYE *runs upstairs*