Chapter 11
Murtagh entered the strategy room with unease. He still had not located Eragon and knew that Galbatorix would not be pleased.
To his surprise, the king was not alone in the room. He sat on his throne, listening patiently to a woman before him speak. She was in a plain gown with his crest embroidered on the sleeve and a curved blade was at her belt.
"Adriana served you faithfully, Sire, but I can do so much more. Eliminating her was a service to you. She was weak with magic. I can do more than she could have imagined. Please accept my service and my blade." She drew the sword and knelt down, presenting it to Galbatorix.
"I am pleased with your cooperation—what's your name?"
She stood, sheathing her sword. "I am Goroth, but considering my circumstances, I should keep the old name."
"Your choice." Galbatorix said.
To Murtagh's surprise, for he hadn't noticed the girl before, Elva stepped forward from her place next to the throne. "Goroth, have you served under a master before?"
"No. I have always been my own master, for none have equaled me in strength until now."
"And now that you've found one who is stronger than you, will you heed his commands and remain loyal until death takes you?"
"Death. Bah!" she cackled to herself. "Yes, I swear. Until death."
Elva turned to Galbatorix. "The truth has been spoken. She cannot betray you. Though, if given a chance, she would."
He nodded slowly. "Leave us, Goroth. I will call upon you when in need of your services."
Murtagh stepped aside to allow the Lady's exit, eyeing her suspiciously. He didn't like the sound of their conversation and suspected the secrets behind it.
"Come forward, Rider," Galbatorix said coldly.
Murtagh did as he said. If he refused an order, the king would force it upon him. There was no point in resisting.
"Once again, you come before me without an egg and without a Rider. What is your excuse this time?"
"Master, the Rider Eragon has escaped on his dragon. No doubt they are already in Surda with the surviving eggs. Searching the countryside like this is useless when they have already found shelter with our enemies." Right then he knew he had crossed the line.
Galbatorix stood up from his throne and shouted a curse in the ancient language.
Murtagh had no time to react. The pain crept up his spine and filled every inch of his body. It was as if a thousand daggers were stabbing him from the inside out. He would have passed out from the agony, but the king would not allow it. For many minutes, he remained fully conscious, aware of every inch of his body being tortured under the command of his master.
At last, the pain ended, and he slumped to the floor, gasping for breath.
Galbatorix strode to him, heavy boots falling thunderously against the floor. "Once again, you have failed me. I will send someone who is competent after the Rider, and they will not fail. Meanwhile, you will not be harmed further. But Thorn…"
Murtagh turned his head and looked fearfully at the king. "No."
Eragon instinctively stepped away from the circle, knowing that he could not possibly be the one. But he watched the baby dragon very closely, wondering who its Rider would be.
"Arya," Nasuada said, "touch it. It is best for the Varden."
"It will choose by itself," Arya murmured. "If someone touches it besides the true Rider, nothing will happen."
The silver hatchling stood up shakily, stretching out its wings and letting a puff of smoke escape its nostrils. Eragon was reminded of Saphira's first moments out of the shell; she too was completely irresistible. This young dragon had the lightest of silver scales that shone brightly in the candle light. His eyes were black and perfectly round, gazing about the room with a curious, yet shy look.
"What do you mean? A dragon chooses its Rider?" Katrina asked, clearly confused.
"Silence! This is an important occasion, girl!" Vanir shot an irritated look at Katrina before looking back to the dragon.
Arya sank to her knees, laying her hands palm-up on her lap as if to humbly offer the dragon her service. Vanir followed suit.
Everyone watched intently while the hatchling waddled toward them a few steps, curiously sniffing the air. To their dismay, he quickly lost interest in the two elves and made his way between them—straight for Nasuada. The black eyes did not waver from her one bit.
"What's it doing?" Nasuada asked, biting her lip. To the dragon, she said, "No… shoo! Go the other way."
But the dragon continued crawling straight for her. She stepped away and retreated behind her desk. It followed.
Vanir stood, disappointment written on his face. "It has chosen you, My Lady. Reach down and touch it with your left hand; that way you may fight with your right while using magic with your left.
"No. There is something wrong," she said, standing on her chair to keep the dragon from touching her. "I am not the one! This cannot be happening. I'm leader of the Varden, not a Rider."
Arya's face was blank and emotionless. "Do not be a fool, Nasuada. Touch the dragon. It has obviously chosen you and there is nothing we can do about it."
Nasuada bit her lip so hard it began to bleed. "We need a strong Rider. Not me." She contained a sob before it escaped her throat. "Anyone but me. Please." Now she was crying. Her knees weakened and she sat down on the chair, arms wrapped around her legs.
The silver dragon shakily tried to climb up the chair leg, groaning a little, but failed. It fell to the floor and got right back to its feet.
Eragon watched with sorrow in his heart. He felt for Nasuada. She knew the consequences of an untrained human becoming a Rider. The Varden would have a rough road ahead. "It's the only way, Nasuada."
She looked down at the hatchling, laughing through the tears at its desperate attempts to climb the chair. Hesitantly, she reached her left hand down and touched the dragon's head. Another sob came out and she pulled it back. The hand now bore a glistening gidwey ignasia.
No one spoke for many moments. Nasuada cried into her hands, now marked with the sign of a Rider. Then she pulled the dragon into her lap and hugged him. Eragon could tell they were already sharing emotions, for the dragon began quaking with tiny sobs as his Rider cried.
Eragon felt uncomfortable witnessing this important moment between dragon and Rider. He knew he should leave, yet he didn't. Mesmerized by the scene before him, he found his legs did not heed his command.
Nasuada finally wiped her face with the sleeve of her gown and stood, cradling the baby dragon tenderly. "There is only one path for me now. I must resign as leader of the Varden and be trained in the ways of magic, however futile it may be."
"It isn't futile," Eragon began, but Roran cut him off.
"Why would you resign because of a dragon?"
Arya glowered at him. "Being a Rider and the commander of a rebellion is far too much power or responsibility for one person. And besides, Nasuada will need to devote all of her time to studying the language of magic from now on."
Nasuada nodded. "When shall we begin?"
"As soon as possible. With your permission, Eragon will take you to Ellesmera, where you will be fully trained by my people." Arya sighed.
"But your finest spell weavers are here in Aberon. Why not stay? It will be more convenient," said Nasuada.
"There is one in my home who has more knowledge than all of our finest spell weavers combined. You must go to him."
Nasuada looked very frustrated and almost insulted that Arya was giving her an order, yet calmed down a little, stroking the silver hatchling and taking in a deep breath. "I must inform the council."
"They might not like the idea of you being trained by the elves," Eragon said. "After all, they didn't want the egg to hatch for an elf for fear of giving them too much power."
"I will go to Du Weldenvarden with or without their permission. I have sworn fealty to no one and I make my own choices."
Eragon admired her strength, but doubted it would be so easy to deny the council. "We should leave you, Nasuada. I know you would like to spend some time with your dragon now."
She nodded gratefully. "Yes, please. I'd like a few moments. Everything I've worked for has just been cast aside as useless, and a new future has been thrust upon me. The least I can have is a few moments alone. Well… almost alone." She glanced sorrowfully down at the dragon, yet her eyes still shown with love for the little being.
They left, filing out of the room without a noise.
Eragon could sense Roran and Katrina's confusion, and knew that they had a hundred questions about the previous scene, but did not pay attention. There was someone else who needed a full recount of the happenings.