Chapter X: Decrees
Eragon looked over the top of the scroll he had just finished reading to its deliverer. "You're sure this is authentic?" he asked the messenger.
"Of course. You could contact Nasuada herself to find out," the messenger pointed out. Eragon dipped his head in consent to his very true point. "If, for any chance, you do call her, could you let me know? I told her that when I got here, I'd let her know."
"Of course, that should not be an issue. Exactly what will this job entail?"
"Mainly just ferrying messages back and forth, mostly between the two of you, and occasionally to another nation. I would need to be officially living here though, or else…" He trailed off, and his gaze flicked towards the floor.
"Or else what?" the man behind the desk pressed, eyebrow raised in questioning.
"I'd have to be followed and watched wherever I went." Eragon chuckled.
"Good enough for me. But there is one last thing that I must ask of you: may I search your mind?" The messenger recoiled at the sound of this.
"By the gods, brother, why?"
"So I can make sure that you have changed. You need not worry, I shall go nowhere that is too personal, and I will not look at your true name. I refuse to wrench that from you as Galbatorix did."
"No, I won't stand for it," Murtagh replied, backing up again. Eragon shook his head in disappointment. He changed tactics.
"Murtagh, I know you changed. All I need to do is search a small part that proves it. That way, if anyone asks, we can truly say that I searched your mind to find out if you had changed. Tell you what, I'll even let you pick the memory." Murtagh looked into Eragon's eyes, knowing that his choice could lead him to be exiled forever. He looked down, thought, and then looked back up, nodding. "Good. You have a memory yet?" he asked Murtagh a few moments later. Again, a single nod.
Eragon reached out a hand and placed it on the top of Murtagh's head. They both closed their eyes, Eragon extending his mind to look within Murtagh's. Once inside, what he saw was shocking. A fairly recent memory of Murtagh and Nasuada, just a few days before he left.
"Murtagh, I can't look at this; it's too personal."
"No, I choose this so that you could see who I am. The next few minutes show who and what I am. What I have become. Look carefully, Shadeslayer, and understand." Much to Eragon's disapproval, he watched as Nasuada entered into Murtagh's vision and sat on the bench beside him. As the scene progressed, he felt all that Murtagh had felt at the time, and was feeling now as the memory played through again. Much as Murtagh tried, he couldn't keep from allowing his emotions from spilling out.
"That's enough, brother," Eragon said, pulling out from Murtagh's mind. "I had no idea you felt that way about Nasuada. I'm sorry for forcing you to open up like that."
"No, the error is mine. If I hadn't allowed you to search, you'd never trust me as you do now." The two brothers stood up, then left the office. It was now late in the afternoon, nearly time for the evening meal. The halls were all but empty, only a few stragglers remaining outside the Great Hall. The evening meals were always fantastic, courtesy of several of the "greatest cooks this side of Alagaesia", as they were often called. Tonight was like, always, a surprise, but never had been a letdown. Unlike the elves of the West, everyone here ate meat, as well as fruits and vegetables, since too much of anything else could cause a failure of the ecosystem. When the brothers had reached the main doors to the Great Hall, Eragon let the newest member of the Order precede him into the Hall. Thorn followed close behind, having never been terribly comfortable around large crowds.
When they entered, the volume dropped, as it often did when Eragon, or any guest, entered. The two riders sat down at the main table at the head of the Hall, Saphira greeting Eragon with a simple burst of joy at his merely being there. He smiled, then once the food was brought out, everyone dug in. He wasn't quite sure what it was until he had a few bites. Nagran! he thought, contented, to himself.
Half an hour or so later, when nearly everyone was finished, Eragon stood up, getting the attention of everyone within a fraction of a minute. It's now or never. He spoke loudly, with just enough volume to be heard by everyone.
"Friends, students, as in case you have not noticed, there is another rider and dragon with us today." There was scattered laughing, quiet and fading into nothing in moments. "To those who don't know, I present Murtagh and Thorn, my good friends and ambassadors to the Empire. I know that most of you either witnessed the terrors that these two reigned down years ago, or have studied the past and come across their names. I won't lie, these are the same two people. But, this isn't the same pair that destroyed defeated me on the Burning Plains all those years ago. These are kind, loving rider and dragon that simply wish to do all they can to bring peace to the land that the one that controlled them destroyed…" Eragon was cut off at this point by a dwarf, the same one that had run away in terror earlier.
"He killed my third cousin!" he shouted. This lead to more talking and shouts from everyone, but mainly from the dwarves.
"Everyone, please!" Eragon yelled, trying to silence the now quite loud and angry crowd.
"Everyone shut up!" came the rolling voice of Murtagh. Before he finished the last syllable, everyone was quiet. There was so much tension in the room that it could easily result in fighting with barely a breath. Murtagh stood up slowly, gesturing Eragon to sit down. "People, I can see that my being here causes discomfort, so I will do one thing before I leave. I will have a duel, with anyone of you who thinks I should be gone. If that person wins, they shall decide my fate. If I win, I will put it to a general vote. So, either way, I might get kicked out." There was suddenly a buzz of activity as people split into groups to see who might stand a chance at beating this man, or as the dwarves called him, the thrice-accursed-one. Everyone agreed to this, or at least that was the hope, seeing as how groups started leaving.
Murtagh sat down, worried. Eragon looked over, wondering what could have possessed him to do something like this. Instead of asking, Eragon merely shook his head, then left the Hall, disappointed. Once he was gone, only Murtagh, Thorn, and two riders, both with their dragons, approached him. "What do you four want?" he asked, deflating at the sight of them.
"We came to see if you were okay or needed to talk," said one, a Kull, Uftak, if Murtagh remembered correctly.
"I'm fine, a tad worried, yes, but I'm okay, thanks." He sat up a little straighter, then slouching again as fear coursed through him again.
"Well, if you…" said the red-haired woman. She looked to be in her mid-twenties.
"Ever need someone…" said one of the dragons, continuing her sentence, then leaving it hanging.
"To talk to…" the woman said, seeming to pick up where the dragon left off without hesitation, then leaving it again.
"Then we are here to…"
"Listen whenever you need to." Murtagh put his hands to the side of his head, trying to make his headache go away.
"You alright, sir?" asked the Urgal, concerned, a strange state for a being whose life often was a constant war-like state. Murtagh ignored him, saying instead to the girl and her dragon, whichever one it was, "Why do you talk in turns?"
The girl and the purple dragon behind her exchanged a glance, then the girl spoke up. "We're sorry, it's just, well, we're closer to each other than most other rider-dragon pairs, and often our thoughts overlap."
"We're sorry if we caused any discomfort."
"Please forgive us."
"Alright, but please, for now, would you mind just speaking one at a time?" The girl and the Urgal smiled. Their dragons laughed in their own strange way, then turned and walked out. When they had left, Murtagh spoke again. "I'm afraid I don't recall your names." The Urgal held out hand, saying that he was Uftak, his friend Redlyn. She too held out her hand. "If you don't mind my asking, why don't you two hate me, or Thorn?"
"That's easy," Uftak said, a grin appearing on his face. "You are a friend and brother of Master Eragon. That makes you my friend. Tales are told of two mighty riders who both had to be nearly killed to save the land. You are one. I oft have thought that if I could, I would be like you, sacrificing myself for the good of the whole land."
"And you?" Murtagh asked Redlyn.
"I simply don't listen to other people's judgments, and judge for myself."
"And what has this taught you about me?" Murtagh asked, instantly curious.
"That you're a good man with a bad history behind you. That you want whatever's best for the population at large. That you would be willing to sacrifice your life for a friend without hesitation." This last revelation was unknown to even him, and Thorn, but when they thought about it, they reluctantly agreed. Redlyn smiled. "If you ever need back up, look for me or Diesa."
"Or look for me and Svaraum," Uftak added, trying to be as kind as he could. Murtagh smiled back, thankful for his two new friends.
"Good. Then let's good see if the rabble has come up with someone to duel me." He got up and led the way out, where they were greeted by Diesa and Svaraum guarding the door against the crowd.
"I think you have your answer." Murtagh could only nod, stunned as he was by the one who had been chosen to fight him