Another chapter everyone! The battle! Hehe. I tried my best to write it well, so I hope you all will like it! The next chapter is halfway done! I don't own Eragon. R&R!
"It has begun!" Bard exclaimed, with an excited expression. Behind Eragon, the troops on the encampment stood alertly with their weapons drawn. Comparatively, he stood silently; patiently watching the tunnel entrance, waiting for them to come bursting through.
Together, he, Saphira and his servants watched the dark mouth of the tunnel from where they stood, thirty feet before the battalion. A minute dragged by, then another . . . and another. Soon the movement behind the rocks became loud enough for normal ears to register. "I hear them!" cried a man. He could feel Finny stiffen beside him as Bard unsheathed his sword. No one moved . . . no one breathed. Somewhere close by, a horse nickered.
Harsh Urgal shouts shattered the air, as dark shapes boiled towards the tunnel's opening. He held his hands up to signal the soldiers to halt in their process of pouring scalding liquid into the tunnel's hungry throat. Then the Urgals emerged, their numbers halting at the sight of him. He recognized the Urgal in the lead, Gashz, who held up his hands to signal his brethren to stop. They did so, presenting a solid wall of bodies to the men and dwarves. Gashz stepped forward, not bothered that he was walking in a pool of oil. He held his head high in a sign of respect. "Lord Gabranth, what is the meaning of this?"
He could hear the Battalion move uneasily behind him. Eragon spoke, his voice possessing power and authority. "Do you and your kin still recognize me as a formidable leader?"
"We do, you have proven to us your strength." Gashz confirmed. Eragon nodded. He gestured towards the tunnel in which they had emerged.
"Then I order you to leave Farthen Dûr, and I grant you your freedom from the Empire." He watched as shock and surprise gripped them, followed by suspicion.
"We have orders from Durza to attack Farthen Dûr and kill every human and dwarf here."
"Think of what you're saying, Gashz," said Eragon. "You follow Durza as your leader, but has he ever won it from you, as is tradition by your kin? No. Instead he takes authority over you and your race without right. I accepted your challenge that was put to me and succeeded. Ushnark has also given me authority over your people, has he not?"
The Urgal nodded. Good, now if you would just fall for it. "Then as your leader, I order you to turn back and leave Farthen Dûr!"
They all stood there, waiting breathlessly as Gashz thought on his decision. Finally, the Urgal raised his head. He let out harsh shouts and to his surprise, some of the Urgals began to turn about, leaving Farthen Dûr.
"Very well, Lord Gabranth, I shall heed your orders. But I think that not all of my kin will leave with me." Eragon nodded and watched as he too left until all movement was gone and a significantly smaller wall of Urgals stood in front of him. One of the Urgals stepped forward, raising his sword.
With a fluid motion, Eragon drew both of his swords, the metal gleaming at his side. "I see you refuse to follow my orders," he whispered. "Insubordination pays a high price." Saphira.
The great sapphire dragon let out a thunderous roar. They will burn. He watched as her jaws opened and a great torrent of flames erupted, yellow with a tinge of blue. Immediately the oil caught fire, burning every Urgal within its hungry mouth. He raised his hand and the soldiers began to pour more hot oil into the mouth of the tunnel.
Immediately, arrows began to fly over them from behind, eating away at the Urgal's numbers. Despite many Urgals having followed Gashz, their force was still large. Eragon did not worry; he had Saphira to burn them away. The Urgal line wavered, threatening to break, but they covered themselves with their shields and weathered the attack.
Their army formed a solid mass of bodies that stretched endlessly. Tattered and sullen standards were raised in the monsters' midst. Baleful notes echoed throughout Farthen Dûr as war horns sounded. The entire group of Urgals charged with savage cries.
They dashed against the rows of stakes, covering them with slick blood and limp corpses, as the ranks of the vanguard were crushed against the sharpened spikes. Imbeciles,Eragon thought as he watched them charge. A cloud of black arrows flew over the barrier at the crouched defenders. Bard raised his hand and a glow of yellow energy erupted from his palm as he spoke in the ancient language, "Letta orya thorna." The barrage immediately halted in the air. With another word, "Gánga," they turned before heading straight back to the Urgal archers. He felt himself smirk. Now it was time for his servants to show just how unique they were.
Momentarily foiled by the pickets, the Urgal horde milled about with confusion. After a pause, the war cries were raised again as the Urgals surged forward. When they were close enough, Eragon charged forward, sprinting towards their lines. Finny and Bard followed suit. Bard grinned in the anticipation of being on a battlefield again, while Finny's face bore an expression of pure concentration. Saphira took flight, flying high above the battle, breathing fire onto the Urgals.
Eragon was at ease as he cut through the Urgal's line, using every method he could to kill every enemy in his way. He took care to spread tendrils of thought throughout the Urgals ranks, determining which were protected by wards and using varying forms of magic to slaughter groups of Urgals at a time. Finny, with his unnatural strength, gave the Urgals pause. He easily rammed through their numbers, killing every foe in his way. Bard with his magic and swordsmanship was a force of his own. He danced through their ranks, with an ease that bespoke his true skill. Kneeing an Urgal in the stomach, Eragon watched as the large monster fell to the ground. With ease, he crushed his skull beneath his boot. Eragon then turned back to the battalion still over ten yards behind them.
"What are you waiting for?" he challenged. "An invitation?"
Easily side stepping away from a mace swung at his head, with his elbow; he snapped the Urgal's neck in half. The battalion responded in kind, rushing forward. As the two forces collided, a deafening roar burst from the men and dwarves as they rushed into the conflict. Thorn bellowed and leapt toward the fight, diving into a whirlwind of noise and blurred action. With his jaws and talons, he tore through Urgal after Urgal. His teeth were as lethal as any sword, his tail a giant mace. Upon his back, Eragon could see Murtagh smiting any Urgal who came too close. They were as dangerous as Saphira, who flew above the raging battle, breathing fire upon nearly every Urgal who left the tunnel. Many were protected by wards, but those who were not were instantly burned alive.
From the corner of his eye, Eragon saw Orik hewing Urgal heads from their necks with mighty blows of his axe. As Thorn spun, he saw Arya leap past the lifeless body of an opponent. All around, he could see the Varden in high morale, fighting strongly against the Urgals. He even glimpsed the witch Angela, wearing a red cape over outlandish armor enameled black and green. She bore a strange two handed weapon — a long wooden shaft with a blade attached to each end. Close behind her was Solembum in the form of a shaggy-haired boy. He held a small black dagger, sharp teeth bared in a feral snarl. When Eragon saw that they were being pushed back toward Tronjheim, he gritted his teeth. The Urgals army was still large enough to overwhelm the Varden. Durza, where was Durza? He needed to find the shade and dispose of him quickly or Tronjheim would soon be seized by the Urgals. Without his magic controlling the Urgals, they would be no force driving them to attack.
It was then he noticed Murtagh and Thorn were gone. He glanced about the battlefield to find that Arya was also missing, as well as Saphira. Where could the four have gone? The last he had seen of his half-brother, he had been fighting side by side with King Hrothgar. Felling a group of Urgals that surrounded him, he reached out for Saphira. She responded with a tinge of urgency in her voice. Eragon! Durza has Murtagh under the star sapphire! You need to get there before he is killed.
Anger soon flushed him. The idiot! What made him believe he could challenge the Shade? Easily killing an Urgal in his way, he turned, contacting Finny and Bard as he did so.
My lord, Bard replied.
I need you and Finny to kill as many Urgals as you can without exhausting yourselves. It will encourage the Varden to see such strength. I must go, to save my idiotic half-brother.
Yes, my lord. Running as fast as he could to the great central chamber of Tronjheim, he felt himself grin when he heard howls of agony from behind him, followed by cheers from the Varden. As he emerged into the chamber, he was met with the sight of Murtagh on the floor, unconscious, as Thorn was being roughly held down by a horde of Urgals. But something was wrong. As he glanced up he saw Saphira flying down from the dragon hold, Arya on her back, her hand outstretched with a green nimbus of magic shining from her palm, and shards of ruby crystal falling all around her. She had destroyed the star sapphire!
Muttering a quick spell to ward him from the sharp shards that were falling to the floor, he ran straight for Durza, tossing his swords to the side. When he reached Murtagh he picked up Zar'roc from the ground next to his half-brother, pointing it at Durza. The shade removed his eyes from Saphira and smiled coldly at him. "I knew this day would come. It seems that you've thrown your fate with the wrong lot, Gabranth," he proclaimed, eyes gleaming mockingly. "Or should I say, Eragon?"
With a swift motion of his hand, he pulled his helm off, staring at the shade with cold hatred. "I am overjoyed that I have an excuse to kill a shade such as you, Durza." They circled each other, ignoring the shards of the Isidar Mithrim that seemed to have stopped in their fall.
"The king will be rather displeased that I've killed you, but think of how he'll reward me when I bring back your brother." Irritation swelled up inside Eragon as he stared at Durza's smirk. Eragon bent his wrist, aiming Zar'roc at Durza's heart.
"Before I kill you, Durza, there is something that I would like to tell you." He bent his knees. "All those years that you complained I held a higher station than you simply because I am a Dragon Rider, it was not so. Let me put it simply: I'm more valuable than you, at least to Galbatorix."
He watched as maroon eyes narrowed in anger, and without a moment's hesitation, he charged, Zar'roc flashing in his hand. When they were a yard apart, he felt his rage for the shade come to life as the sneering face came closer. He focused all of his pain and anger that Durza had made him feel as a child, into one word:
"Brisingr!"
Zar'roc blazed with bloody light, heatless blue flames running along it.
He lunged forward, ignoring Durza's blade as it ran a smooth line across his cheek drawing blood and stabbed the shade straight in the heart.
Durza looked down with shock at the blade protruding from his breast. His mouth was open, but instead of words, and unearthly howl burst from him. His sword toppled from nerveless fingers. He grasped Zar'roc as if to pull it out, but it was lodged firmly within him. Then Durza's skin turned transparent. Under it was neither flesh nor bone, but swirling patterns of darkness. He shrieked even louder as the darkness pulsated, splitting his skin. With one last cry, Durza was rent from head to toe, releasing a darkness which separated into three entities, each proceeding to fly through Tronjheim's walls and out of Farthen Dûr. The shade was dead.
Hearing a thud behind him, he turned to find that Saphira had landed beside Thorn, who was rising from the ground. The Urgals that had restrained him were nowhere to be seen. The shards of the Isidar Mithrim slowly came to a rest on the ground. Arya, who sat atop Saphira's back, seemed to sway dangerously as her feet hit the ground. Eragon caught her before she fell. "A reckless strategy." Eragon admonished, cradling her as he did when he had first met her. "Not only did you destroy the dwarves' precious star, you could have killed yourself."
Oh, stop scolding her. Saphira rebuked, turning from her inspection of Thorn. I am the one who carried her down. Are you going to criticize me as well?
He sighed, No. It is just that I am worried for her, as well as for you, he replied kindly. He placed Arya against the front of Saphira's foreleg. "Rest, it appears that the battle is over." He instructed and to his mild surprise, she assented, her eyes closing. He moved over to where Murtagh lay on the ground, lying on his back. Flipping Murtagh over gently, he studied him for any serious wounds. His back… Blood was pouring from a wound in large amounts, staining the floor.
"Eragon!" He glanced up and to his immense relief, saw Angela running over to him, her face bearing an expression of worry. "What's happened here? Saphira called for me." He gestured to both Murtagh and Arya. He did not feel the least bit offended as Angela roughly pushed him to the side to examine Murtagh.
"You tend to these two, I'll return to the battle." To his bemusement, Angela let out a laugh. "What is it that you laugh at?"
"Battle?" she repeated. "If it pleases you, do offer your strength, but I assure you that there is no more battle. It seems," her gaze flickered up to him before returning to Murtagh, "that when you killed Durza, his magic binding the Urgals were gone and the clans turned on each other. They're escaping through the tunnels, I think."
"I expected as much."
She stood, shaking her head, her thick curls bouncing side to side. "I cannot heal him here; I need him to be brought to a room where I can make my tonics." She turned to leave. "Call Rosalie for me, I shall need her assistance."
He did as she had asked and Murtagh was soon moved into an empty room, with the assistance of Thorn. Arya was placed in an adjacent room. He had never seen the witch so busy, moving from room to room, making haste in order to save the two Riders. Solembum, who had returned to his cat form, was sitting to the side, his tail twitching. You fought well, Shadeslayer. The Varden is abuzz with your accomplishments. It appears you have won a place in the people's heart.
Is that so?
It is. He turned his head to stare at Eragon with a piercing gaze. Listen closely and I will tell you two things. When the time comes and you need a weapon, look under the roots of the Menoa tree. Then, when all seems lost and your power is insufficient, go to the Rock of Kuthian and speak your name to open the vault of souls.
He felt himself frown. Rarely would a werecat ever offer help and when they did, it was always wise to heed it. Before he could give it more thought, however, Rosalie came bustling down the hallway towards them, Arya's infant dragon close behind her. Eragon pointed to Murtagh's room. "Angela needs you in there. It is taking all her skill to save him, not to mention Arya."
"Yes, my lord." With that, she hurried into the room. The green dragon settled besides Eragon, curling in on himself as he waited. When he felt a mental tendril touch his mind, he was about to throw up barriers when he realized that it was Thorn. Yes?
I want to thank you for saving Murtagh, despite you hating him so.
He bristled at that statement. I do not hate him.
Even so, thank you, Eragon. He turned to stare at the ruby eyes of the red dragon before nodding. They waited for another hour or so and when Angela came bustling out of Arya's room and turned to Eragon.
"She's awake if you'll like to visit her." He nodded and stood from where he sat leaning against the wall of the hallway. With his helm tucked safely underneath his arm, he entered her room, Arya's dragon following closely at his heels. She was sitting up in her bed, rubbing her face tiredly as he entered.
"I'm relieved to find that you aren't dead," said Eragon, taking a seat in the empty wooden chair next to her bed, as her dragon bounded up to the bed, nuzzling her with its snout. He watched as she softly returned the gesture, stroking the green dragon's head, turning to stare at him with bright eyes.
"How long have I been asleep?"
"A few hours," he said. His face suddenly turned grave. "If you remember me saying before; that was reckless. If you had expended any more energy, you could have died."
"Yet I did not," Arya replied, her emerald eyes deep. Eragon grunted in reply. "How fares Murtagh?"
He shrugged. "Angela is still healing him. With her, I'm sure he'll be fine." He reached out and handed her a cup of water from the table beside her bed. She took it after a moment's glance. "You should focus on resting, the Urgals are retreating and the Varden has won."
Her eyes became curious. He explained, "When I killed Durza, the magic that bound the clans together broke and they all turned against each other. In the end, most of them escaped. The rest of the Varden are trying to root them out." He snorted. "Though I don't understand why they would waste time with such efforts. The Urgals aren't likely to attack Farthen Dûr again."
"I see." He felt a faint smile upon his lips. Arya often gave him short replies, but he perceived much from them. The door opened and they both turned to find an anxious soldier in the doorway. "Yes?"
"Ajihad requested that you lend your assistance healing the injured, Shadeslayer," the soldier said, his eyes firmly kept on the floor. Eragon nodded and dismissed him. When the door closed he turned back to Arya.
"You should rest." He stood, his eyes never leaving hers. "Your dragon seems intent on you staying in bed."
He made to leave. "Eragon..."
He turned his head to stare at Arya; she was still sitting up in bed, her piercing gaze focused on him. "Thank you."
"For what?"
"For killing Durza." He nodded to her before leaving. He understood. Her revenge had been carried out. He had killed the shade who had murdered her companions. The blood that had been owed was repaid.
The encampment of injured soldiers came into his line of sight. From his position, he could faintly make out the figures of Bard, Finny and Desdemona, bustling about to help where they could. Eragon raised his eyes to the heavens. What would tomorrow bring?
So, tell me what you all think. Oh, and I wanted to put it straight out there that ExA will get to happen in this story, but not for the next twenty or so chapters. And about the time travel story, I've decided that after or near the end of this story, I'll write that one. The concept just really intrigues me. See you again at the next chapter!