The Herbalist's Apprentice

by the Lady of the Mists

Chapter Ten: A Change in the Tide

Sandry was sitting outside, watching the stars as they twinkled overhead, shining down at the young witch as she shivered slightly, her blue eyes focused on the heavens with her sword lying harmlessly next to her. She felt something heavy drape around her shoulders and looked up to find Eragon placing his cloak around her before he sat down next to her.

"It's a cold night," he observed slightly. "You'll be warmer that way." She smiled slightly as she drew the cloak tighter around her. "I'm sorry that everything's so hectic lately."

"Did you expect it to be anything but?" Sandry replied dryly as she looked sideways at him. "Eragon, you're the Rider, an important part of the Varden—perhaps the most important—and I understand that. It just gets lonely sometimes," she said softly.

Eragon sighed. "If I tell you something, can you promise to keep it a secret?" he asked. Sandry raised her eyebrows. "To everyone but Peter," he elaborated. She nodded. "Okay, nobody is supposed to know this before the ceremonies tomorrow, but the Council has elected for Nasuada to take her father's place. It's going to be announced tomorrow."

"Nasuada?" Sandry repeated, surprised. She had met Ajihad's daughter, but she was only a handful of years older than the two of them. There was no real reason why they would pick her, except she was easier to control.

"What have you done?" she said, eyeing her sweetheart carefully. Eragon fought a small smile and she shook her head, already knowing the answer. "Well, I highly doubt they'll be too pleased about that, if they find out. Tomorrow should be interesting, in any case."

"That's one way to put it," Eragon agreed with a smile. He shook his head as she glanced upward, towards the stars again. "Things have definitely changed. I can no longer remain independent here, as I wanted to."

"Change comes as sure as the tides," Sandry replied softly, "and just as often. In order to do what's right, we must ride swiftly through them or lose our ventures." She smiled at Eragon's baffled expression and shook her head. "Sorry, it's something my mother used to tell me, before she died."

"What was she like?"

Sandry stopped for a minute, her mind flashing back to those long-forgotten memories, in the inn with her mother, when she had simply been the innkeeper's daughter instead of an apprentice healer and witch. "She was . . . very kind," she whispered softly. "And beautiful. I remember, she had the most beautiful shade of red hair and green eyes." She paused slightly. "And she was so strong, able to keep the inn running on her own, while raising a child and without her husband." Sandry shook her head. "Except their marriage was never really valid. He was married to another woman the entire time. And then he went back to her, because she couldn't give him a son."

Eragon reached out and pulled her against him, embracing her gently and she laid her head onto his shoulder. "So, if we should ever meet your father on the battlefield," he asked, "do you want me to take care of him or do you want a clear shot at him?"

Sandry chuckled as she looked up at him. "I don't think it's my father that we're going to need to worry about," she replied. "It's my brother. Not Peter," she added, reading his expression. "I've got another one. Éamonn. He's a couple years younger than me. And according to Peter, he can be quite a menace." She shook her head.

"Do you really think that the Varden's the safest place for you, if your brother is going to come after you?" Eragon asked her.

"Well, where else could possibly be safer?" Sandry replied, sitting up to look at him incredulously. She knew that he was right, but really, where else was safe right now? "Besides, what if something happens and they need as many healers as they have? Eragon, I can't go anywhere. And where could I possibly go?"

"With me," Eragon said grimly. She stared at him. "We're to head to Ellesméra after the ceremonies, to settle matters with them. The Varden lost contact with them after Arya was captured." He took her hand into hers. "Sandry, come with me. It will be safe there, I promise. Arya has already agreed to your coming."

"But what about Peter?"

"Peter, too," he affirmed with a shrug. "They'll be able to spare him and besides, it might make an impression if we arrive with a member of the Varden to the Queen." She slowly nodded. "Sandry, come with me. I might be gone for the months and I couldn't bear the thought of us apart, not right when this was first beginning."

He had thought of everything, she thought in admiration of the Rider. He really had thought all of it out, just to convince her to go. How could she say no?

In order to give herself time to think, Sandry stood up and walked away from him, staring over the horizon. "You know, I used to thrive on the tales of people having adventures and fighting for what was right," she said softly. "Real life isn't how it is in tales."

"No," Eragon agreed as he walked over to her, wrapping her arms around her carefully. "But on a very rare occasion, it can be even better." Smiling down at her, Eragon kissed her forehead. "It won't be for long; I doubt Nasuada will be able to keep us away for more than a few months."

Sandry stared over the mountain range. "I'll go," she said. Eragon looked at her quickly. "It might be exciting to see the elves' haven. I would love to see it and it might be my only chance to get to."

"You won't regret it," Eragon promised her.

--

The sun was rising slowly in the sky when Sandry returned to her bedchambers and found her brother lying flat on his back, snoring slightly. She took one look at him and shook her head. "Why do men insist on drinking so much that it does this to them?" she muttered as she walked over to her brother. "Peter, wake up," she ordered, shaking him. He moaned, trying to push her away. "Come on, big brother, we have to get to the funeral and then the succession ceremonies."

"No," Peter muttered as he pushed her away. "No, not going. Stay here. Head spinning."

"Get up," Sandry snapped, grabbing her brother's arm and hoisting him up. Peter groaned as he pushed himself up and she pushed him into a chair. With a sigh, she walked over to her worktable and started to mix some ingredients into a pot, swirling it together. Peter had his head down, looking ill as she poured it into a glass. "Do not go back to sleep on me, Peter," she warned and he looked up at her miserably. She handed him the glass. "Here, drink this. Just don't ask what's in it," she added dryly.

"I'll try anything," he said numbly as he took the glass, downing it in one gulp. And instantly made a face. "Good gods! What the heck did you put into that thing?" he demanded, shoving the glass as far away from him as he could possibly put it.

"Helped, though, didn't it?" Sandry responded, tossing a sheet of her hair back as she looked towards him placidly. Peter was about to retort, then considered and nodded, looking bewildered.

"Well, actually, it did. A bit," he added. "What is in that thing?" he wanted to know, staring at the glass.

"Trust me, you do not want to know," she replied, shaking her head as she tossed his clothes towards him. "It'll take about ten minutes for the full effects to kick in. Get dressed, we're going to be late."

"I'm coming, I'm coming," Peter groaned as she left the room to let him have the room to himself. She sighed as she sat down in one of the chairs, leaning her hair back. "Did Eragon talk to you about going to Ellesméra?" he called through the closed door.

"He told me yesterday," Sandry responded. "Do you really think that it's a good idea, us going to the elfish lands? I mean, wouldn't we be safer to stay here, if our brother's going to come after us?"

"Except I don't think that the Varden's going to be staying here," Peter said as he appeared. "Besides, we can't live our lives in fear, Sandry. Eventually, we're going to have to live them. You really want to miss out on this chance? It's an once-in-a-lifetime opportunity here. Plus, if we don't go, then you're going to look back down the road someday and wonder what if." He smiled at her and she reluctantly smiled back.

"I've already got my 'what ifs'," she replied dryly. Both of them knew what she was talking about as she said that.

"Then maybe this time you can have something more," he told her as he hugged her tightly. "Come on, what happened to that girl who was so certain she knew what she wanted?"

Sandry sighed. "I'm just afraid of what's going to happen, should we fail," she said softly.

"We won't fail," Peter assured her. "The future is bright and beautiful. You'll see," he said. "Come on, we're gonna be late."

--

Sandry didn't remember much of the funeral. It was just the same as it had been at Camilla and Patrick's, as though she were in a fog, remembering only what she remembered about them, her memories of their deaths fresh in her mind and paralyzing her. Ajihad's, while the circumstances were different, was the same. She could not stop thinking about what the war was costing and what lay ahead. But the benefits far outweighed the costs, in the end. Peter was right, the future was bright and beautiful. And Ajihad had helped them to fight for the freedom from tyranny.

The ceremony, however, she remembered every moment of. She and Peter were one of the first ones in the amphitheatre and took their seats as the crowd began to fill around them. It took several minutes until a Council member stood up to the podium. Sandry recognised him as one of the leaders of the battle. "People of the Varden, we last stood here fifteen years ago, at Deynor's death. His successor, Ajihad, did more to oppose the Empire and Galbatorix than any before. He won countless battles against superior forces. He nearly killed Durza, putting a scratch on the Shade's blade. And greatest of all, he welcomed Rider Eragon and Saphira into Tronjheim."

At the mention of Eragon, Sandry stared down at the Rider, who stood with Arya, Nasuada, and the rest of the Council down at the podium. He looked worried, yet confident, and calm. She was impressed when he didn't even react when someone shouted out his name for the succession. Nobody seemed very surprised when the Council selected Nasuada to be the leader.

One by one, the clans—elf, dwarf, human, and Varden—all swore allegiance to Nasuada. Then, to everyone but Sandry and Peter's surprise, Eragon knelt down and swore fealty to Nasuada.

"They don't seem very pleased about this," Peter whispered to his sister. Sandry looked down to the Council and saw the outrage on their faces and managed not to laugh.

"Good," she said cheerfully. "That will teach them not to mess with power. It's not good for anybody to hold that much authority in their hands. Look what it did to Galbatorix." Peter grinned back as the ceremony continued and Sandry returned her attention back to it.

Nasuada looked towards the people that were in the amphitheatre, beaming up at them. "People of the Varden," she called. "As my father did before me, I give my life to you and our cause. I will never cease fighting until the Urgals are vanquished, Galbatorix is dead, and Alagaësia is free once more. Therefore, I say to you, now is the time to prepare. Here in Farthen Dûr—after endless skirmishes—we won our greatest battle. It is our turn to strike back. Galbatorix is weak after losing so many forces and there will never again be such an opportunity. Therefore, I say again, now is the time to prepare so that we may once more stand victorious!"

Cheers rose through the air and Sandry looked towards her brother. "Well," she said softly, "everything is about the change again."

"For good or bad, only time will decide," Peter replied. "The wheel changes and turns again, only to return." He looked towards Sandry, who held her gaze with her brother. "To Ellesméra, then?"

"To Ellesméra," Sandry agreed. "And towards whatever destiny may hold for the both of us."