Eragon 5 chapter

"Now Anurin, tell me who you really are," came Aragorn's soft voice.

Eragon reasoned that if Aragorn was asking him questions, he probably didn't want to kill him… yet. His answers could end up costing him his life though.

He tried to focus and answered as calmly as he could, "What do you mean?"

Aragorn seemed to lose his patience.

"Don't pretend that you don't know what I am talking about. You barely know anything about these lands, and your story may convince a few hobbits, but not me. So, tell me what you are because I can't risk traveling with you any further if I don't know who you really are."

It seemed that he had no choice. This man probably was his only hope to find Saphira, and to keep lying to him seemed barely helpful at this point.

"I am not from these lands, maybe not even from your world," he said quietly.

"So where are you from?" asked Aragorn, unconvinced.

"I am from land called Alagaesia."

Aragorn's face suddenly changed. Eragon didn't know what the change signified, but the name meant something to him.

They stood in silence for a few moments, when Aragorn seemed to be ready to ask something more; they heard the sound Eragon was most afraid to hear, a horrible screech. The black riders had returned!

"I think the hobbits are in danger," Aragorn said, lowering his blade. "When we reach Rivendell you will need to answer more questions, but now we have no time."

He didn't seem to expect anything else, but Eragon decided to be more careful with this man. This incident showed how important it was to keep his attention on his surroundings.

They were running back, but because of his elven strength and endurance, Eragon had to purposely lag behind for Aragorn to keep up with him.

Even though they were running as fast as Aragorn could manage, they reached Amon Sul only after half an hour had passed. Eragon saw black shapes moving up to the tower.

They found the hobbits!

"Move!" he urged Aragorn.

The dark-haired man saw them too and started running faster. As he ran he pulled out two torches.

"Their cloaks burn well," he said after a long breath and gave one torch to Eragon. But instead of taking it, Eragon pulled out Brisingr and with its name set the length of the blade afire. Aragorn's eyes widened from surprise. He dropped one torch and lit the other from Eragon's sword.

They already reached the tower and were climbing the stairs when Aragon spoke again.

"Don't use your ring unless there is no other choice."

After these words, they reached the last floor and saw five of the creatures standing around the hobbits. They had arrived in time.

Eragon shouted to attract their attention.

"You again," hissed one of them at Eragon.

Two of the creatures moved to Aragorn, and others three towards himself.

I suppose they think me the larger threat, thought Eragon sarcastically.

Suddenly Sam ran from behind and ran his sword through one of the attacker's legs.

Incredible hobbit, thought Eragon and with a loud shout, he attacked the other two.

He was pushing one of them, while tried to defend against the other creature. They were as strong as was the one he had fought before, except he had been fighting just one back then. During the break between hits, he saw that Sam was already lying on the ground unconscious, but he didn't seem to be hurt much. Then he looked up and saw that the same creature was walking towards Frodo with a sword and blade in his hands.

"No!" he yelled and with powerful hit lit up one of his opponents' cloak.

With a fury of blows, he forced the other to retreat. Then, Eragon took a moment, turned back to the hobbit, and ran straight to the one who was standing near Frodo. The Nazgul seemed to notice Eragon and turned to him. The Nazgul then threw his blade at Eragon's side. Eragon tried to avoid it, but he was running too fast to be able to change his direction. The blade hit his stomach, penetrating the flesh.

His leather waistcoat reduced the hit and the blade didn't go deep. Feeling that he'd retained full function, Eragon ignored the pain and hit the Nazgul, who began to lose his balance.

Its cloak caught fire and with screams like a mad creature it ran away.

Eragon wanted to run after it but pain in his stomach stopped him. He reached down and pulled out the creature's blade. However, after a few moments it disappeared in the wind. The wound it had inflicted was far more painful than it should be from such a hit.

Eragon didn't like it. He looked around and saw that one of Aragorn's opponents was already burning and that he had pressed another into a corner. Then Eragon saw the Nazgul he was fighting before now approaching him. He tried to lift his sword, but barely could manage to block the blow. It seemed that the wound was absorbing his strength. His legs lost strength and he fell to the ground.

Aragorn had warned him against using the ring, but he felt that he was rapidly running out of options. He pulled out his ring, which all the time had been dancing in his pocket. Eragon pushed it on his finger, and felt his strength coming back.

He stood back up, holding his flaming sword prepared to meet his opponent. The Nazgul, who had seen all this decided to not risk it and ran off the other side.

At this time Aragorn had defeated his last opponent and now they heard only the creatures' screams around them.

Eragon walked to Sam and once he was sure he was alive and not seriously hurt, woke him.

"Anurin? What happened?" he asked, jumping up.

"Don't worry, they've ran. Everyone is alive."

"I was doing like you said and it worked at first, but then I lost balance and he got me," the hobbit said, looking ashamed of himself.

"Don't worry Sam. You are indeed a very brave hobbit. It is hard to defeat one of them even for myself or Aragorn. You didn't disappoint me."

At that Frodo walked to them.

"Thank you for saving me. I thought he would finish me. Did that blade make a deep wound?"

"What blade?" Aragorn asked, concerned as he walked to them.

"It isn't a fatal wound. I've had far worse before," said Eragon simply handing Aragorn the hilt of the blade.

Aragorn stared at it for a short moment and then dropped it to the ground.

"Morgul blade." He cursed. "Show me your wound."

Eragon was about to complain that it isn't a wound that needed such attention, but a look in the man's eyes showed that it was hopeless to argue.

He lifted his waistcoat and was astonished when he didn't see any blood there. He looked at Aragorn and saw the worried look on his face.

"It is very bad?"

"Does it hurt?" Aragorn asked.

"A little. At first it did, after I put on my ring, the pain vanished."

Eragon looked at Aren and saw that now it was glowing.

After some time Aragorn spoke again.

"A wound made by a morgul blade is deadly," after few moments he added. "You shouldn't take the ring off."

"So you think the ring is holding these…poisons back?" Eragon asked, now also worried.

"Probably, but I am not sure. We should hurry."

He gave commands to the hobbits to pack their bags and find Bill.

"We will be waiting for you below," he finished.

Aragorn walked below and Eragon after him. Eragon's thoughts were focused on his wound and what was preventing the wound from being much worse. Maybe Aren had changed, but for what reason?

They were waiting for the hobbits in the night, looking for any Nazgul to come back from the darkness.

"How far until Rivendell?" Eragon asked, breaking the silence.

It seemed to wake Aragorn from his thoughts and he quickly answered, "Six days, but if we hurry, perhaps four."

He wanted to ask what the man knew about Alagaesia, but then they heard Pippin's scream.

"They are back! The black riders are back!"

They pulled out their swords and ran in the hobbit's direction. They found them standing in defense positions around the pony. Then they saw a rider on the horizon.

"If you would pay more attention you would see that his horse is white," said Aragorn, putting his sword back into its scabbard.

After some time Eragon noticed that rider was a women, with black hair. Then she reached them, and Eragon saw her pointy ears.

She is an elf!

He was a little worried. She would be the first elf he had met here.

She climbed down from the horse and spoken in the ancient language to Aragorn, "I thought you were attacked by the black ones."

"And so we were, but we succeeded in pushing them back."

From the tone they were using to speak to each other, Eragon doubted that they were simply acquaintances.

"There are five around you, where other four I don't know," then she looked at Eragon. "Who is he?"

She might not even see Eragon as an elf, because of his comparatively rugged appearance.

"That is why I need to talk with you."

He gave her the same look he had previously given to Eragon to make sure he wouldn't argue. She looked once more at Eragon and nodded. They walked a little further away leaving Eragon frustrated and feeling left out.

What was so important about him that he can't hear? He wasn't a child or something. It reminded him of his travels with Brom and all his secrets. But then he was younger.

He walked to the hobbits and helped them finish packing their bags.

"Do you know her?" asked Sam, curiously.

"No, I don't," snapped Eragon in a tone that said he was not in a speaking mood.

The hobbits hushed and Eragon strained his hearing. Aragorn and the stranger were talking quietly, but Eragon's elven ears still could hear a few parts of their conversation.

"So you think that he is…"

"He mentioned… but I am not certain…"

"So what should we do?"

"He is wounded by… blade. If he dies, I don't know what she would do and…."

Then they started to whisper and Eragon couldn't hear further.

What was he supposed to be, according to them? And who was the she they were talking about so respectfully? Eragon didn't like it.

After a few minutes they seemed to agree with each other and came back to them.

"Anurin, Frodo," Aragorn called.

When they came he continued.

"We don't know where the four others are, but I doubt that we could hold on if they would attack us all. You, Anurin, must take Frodo and travel to Rivendell with Arwen's horse."

"Why me?" asked Eragon

"Because you are most powerful of us," said Aragorn.

Eragon doubted that it was the true reason, but he didn't mention it.

"But how I will find it?"

"He will bring you there, he knows the way," answered Arwen. "And you should know when you will reach the river, you are safe. If the Nazgul reach you say these words. Nîn o Chithaeglir lasto beth daer; rimmo nín Bruinen dan in Ulaer!"

Eragon repeated these words in his mind and nodded.

"And how about you?" he asked, still not convinced of this plan.

"When you reach Rivendell, send us horses. Until then we will be fine. Your job is much more dangerous."

He could refuse to do it, but it wouldn't be a good idea. He still needed Aragorn at his side. Aragorn spoke to Frodo in his low tone.

"Whatever happens, don't get separated from Anurin," he said and placed him upon the horse.

Eragon sat down on the horse and felt similar to when he was riding at Ellesmera with the elves' horses. It wasn't so simple an animal either.

"Noro lim, Asfaloth, noro lim," Arwen said to the horse and Eragon almost fell off when the horse quickly leaned forwards and started running.

Asfaloth seemed to be flying, not running. Their friends quickly disappeared from view. Eragon didn't do anything to control Asfaloth; rather the horse knew the roads. Eragon noticed that they were riding to the same passage where he had just been walking with Aragorn.

To Eragon's relief they didn't meet any of the riders at the narrow passage, but when they crossed through it, he heard screaming behind them.

They saw us.

The horse, urged by Eragon, began running even faster. After a few moments they saw black riders approaching from the passage.

Aragorn hadn't been lying when he said that his task would be more dangerous.

They were riding like hellfire, always looking back to see if the black riders were getting closer, and Asfaloth galloped through the lands and forest faster that they could think. The sun rose over the hilltops and it gave him a new bout of courage.

After a few more hours Eragon saw two more riders, drawing close from their left side.

Seven already, he thought.

When, to Eragon's surprise, he saw two more coming from their right.

All nine.

Aragorn was right; he hadn't killed them, even if he had hoped that he did.

Eragon didn't know why, but their horses were fast as Asfaloth, or they were trying to drive their horses at a deadly pace, but they were getting closer, just a little, but still closer.

He know that if they came too close, he could let Frodo finish what was left of the road alone and try to delay them as long as he could. But he wasn't happy with such an ending.

Where is that damned river?

As if in answer to his question the sound of running water reached them. They rode through the trees and saw the river.

"We reached it!" yelled Frodo joyfully who all this time had looked more worried than Eragon.

"Yes," said Eragon. "Come on boy, few more steps."

The river wasn't deep, and the water reached only to the horse's knees, but still it was swift. When they passed the river and were planning to ride further, the Nazgul approached at the river's other side.

He had almost forgotten them. He remembered what Arwen said to him before leaving. By that point he was so beyond finished with these black riders, that he added all his rage to this spell. It seemed that ring was adding energy to his words. The Nazgul were at the middle of the river when they heard Eragon casting the spell.

They stopped.

He finished the spell and waited… Nothing…

Maybe I switched words?

The Nazgul laughed at him, a horrible sound, and leaned forward again. Eragon was starting to turn Asfaloth around to run when he heard a strange sound. It was like the entire mountain was approaching them. The Nazgul heard it too and turned towards it.

There was a flowing wave, practically a flood, rushing down the river. A few Nazgul tried to escape by returning back and a few by reaching the shore where Eragon was, but the water took them all. Eragon could even swear that he saw horses' shapes in the water.

If that didn't finish them…

He looked below and saw the astonished hobbit's face.

"Don't worry, I am surprised as much as you," he said as he urged the horse to travel further.

Even magic here was working in another way. Though, it wasn't any weaker than it was in Alagaesia.

These elves were really prepared for defense. The ring would be safe here.

They rode for some time, now moving slower, letting Asfaloth rest. They hadn't met anyone on the road. Eragon was starting to worry when they saw a tunnel before them. They climbed down from the horse. Due to all the tension, their legs were frozen.Eragon took Asfaloth's lead and walked through it.

They were walking in the dark for some time, and then saw light in the distance. He closed his eyes to shield them from the light when he walked out.

After a few moments he opened them and… his mouth opened from astonishment. He had been many places, but after all of them he still was without the word to describe this place.

There were waterfalls, falling from the high mountains all around them; and in the middle was a beautiful city. The buildings were graceful, with all sorts of details.

I could live here with Saphira.

He was sure that she would like it here, too. Through his wondering he suddenly heard footsteps. They turned to that side and saw soldiers running towards them, their armor shining in the sunlight. They all had long hair and were holding flags in their hands. From their movement he could recognize them as elves.

They stopped before them at a safe distance, holding the spears in their direction.

One of them said, "Who are you and what business do you have here?"

"There's no need to be worried. We are friends," he said, indicating the hobbit. "He is Frodo, friend of Gandalf."

He paused for a moment, and added, "And my name is Eragon."

The elves seemed to be stunned for a few moments.

Then the same elf said, "Are… are you sure?"

"Yes," answered Eragon unsure.

He saw the same expression in Frodo's face. He wasn't sure what was happening.

The elf turned to one of the soldiers and commanded in the ancient language, "Call the wanderer at once!"