Chapter XI

Misleading Impressions

Disclaimer: See Chapter One

Eragon awoke at the crack of dawn, along with Arya, and soon they'd roused the group, before meeting a drowsy cadet at the edge of the clearing, who yawned expansively as they came out of the clearing, and lead the way to the feeding grounds, so Ornthrond, Saphira and Thorn could eat their breakfast.
Galzra was keeping pace with Noelfavrel, and was rewarded for her efforts with a fresh-slaughtered chicken, which she swallowed whole, before managing a second, before pronouncing herself satisfied.
The cadet roused himself, as three cows were set loose into the feeding-pen, and Saphira, Thorn and Ornthrond took to the wing.
Ornthrond was the quickest to take his kill, immobilizing it with a mental scream, which caused the cow's brain to haemorrhage, killing it outright, before he landed next to the now-dead cow, and began eating with gusto.
'The day 'e doesn't make a bloody mess of 'imself so I don't have to give 'im a wipe-down will be the day I die.' Muttered Gringlok darkly, as he watched Ornthrond's mottled hide become more and more gore specked.
Thorn took his kill by expedient of snatching it from the ground in his forepaws, before breaking the cow's neck with a swift bite, and a flick of his head.
Saphira dropped on her cow from above, and bit off it's head, a swift, sure kill.
'Wow,' said the cadet, staring between the two dragons and the Fanghur with an awestruck expression.
'How do they compare with the other dragons here?' Asked Joed with interest.
'It wouldn't surprise me if they flew rings around them, sir, I've never seen a middle-weight capable of that sort of turning,' said the cadet in a matter-of-fact voice.
'Really?' Asked Murtagh with surprise, compared with Saphira, Thorn was like a brick with a note tied to it in terms of combat flying skill:
Crude, excessively violent, but good at getting the message across.
The cadet nodded emphatically.
'Yes, if they can turn that tight, they'd be able to outturn even Obversaria, the flag-dragon at the channel, and it's been said no dragon in her weight class can touch her for manoeuvring,' he said.
'I'll take that as a compliment,' said Murtagh after a moment trying to figure out the boy's comment.
'It was definitely a compliment, not maybe, a patriotic one, but it was most definitely a compliment,' said Admiral Peterson, coming towards them from the castle, looking rather tired.
'What's the word, sir?' Asked Joed eagerly, 'are we to be travelling in one of your dragon's belly netting? Not to complain about riding in a saddle, Eragon, Murtagh, but it is a dreadfully uncomfortable proposition with two people, let alone three.' Assured Joed apologetically.
'That courier I mentioned must've heard something last night, they headed off an hour or two before dawn, I guess he didn't want anything to do with you; fortunately, I did manage to enlist Captain Sturn, and his Yellow Reaper, Mortarius to carry your party, as well as that dragonet, and Noelfavrel; they're heading that way for training themselves,' answered Peterson, 'ah, here comes the man now,' he added, motioning to a skinny, pale boy of no more than eighteen, with brown hair, and dressed in the bottle-green uniform of an Aviator Captain, with the gold bars prominent on his shoulders.
''Morning,' said the man cheerily to the company as he approached, 'Captain Richard Sturn, at your service,' he said, parodying a bow from the waist.
'And a good morning to you as well Captain, I assume that you and your dragon are to be the ones to take Noelfavrel and Galzra, along with the rest of our company along to Loch Laggan?' Asked Eragon.
'That's right, and I don't believe I caught your name…?' Sturn let the question hang.
'Eragon, or I suppose 'Captain Bromsson', in your people's mode of speech,' Replied Eragon.
'Eragon will do I think, and if you don't find it rude of me to ask, which one of those three is your dragon?' Asked Sturn, gesturing to Thorn, Saphira and Ornthrond.
'Saphira is my dragon,' said Eragon, indicating Saphira, which he felt hardly necessary, considering.
Sturn whistled appreciatively.
'She's gorgeous, I've never seen one like her before, what breed is she?' Asked Sturn, with a tone that conveyed amply that he was impressed.
'Back in our homeland, she and Thorn are 'dragons' pure and simple, Ornthrond is a Fanghur, the distinction being drabber colouring, inability to breath fire, and lower intelligence,' said Eragon, 'however, one of your country's natural philosophers, Sir Edward Howe, has identified Thorn and Saphira as Shen Lung, or 'Spirit Dragons' from a Chinese myth.'
'Well I'll be,' replied Sturn, with affected astonishment, 'I can't wait to see how hard Mortarius' jaw hit's the ground when he sees her.' He added after a moment with a grin.
'And where would Mortarius be? We mean to be off as soon as we've finished our own breakfast.' Said Murtagh, as he watched Thorn swallow the remains of his kill whole.
Sturn looked around, then the distinctive, concussive thud of gigantic wings on the air made them all look up.
A cow had been released from the feeding pen, and was racing away from the three dragons already on the ground.
'Here he comes,' said Sturn.

From above, a dragon of mottled lemon-and-yellow with white tiger-stripes on his wings and sides, slightly smaller than Saphira, but not by more than four feet, came diving from where it'd been hugging the cloud-layer, and neatly snatched up the cow, before turning in a wide circle, and coming back towards the group, and settling a short way from where Saphira was finishing off her own cow.
Another I think, said Saphira to Eragon, who signalled the herd masters, who promptly opened the feeding pen, loosing a pair of sheep into the grounds.
Saphira gave the herd-master a disdainful look.
Ornthrond, those two appear to be yours, said Saphira, pointing out the two fleeing sheep to the Fanghur, who had by now demolished his kill, and was looking around for a second morsel.
Ornthrond visibly perked, up, and launched himself skywards, performing a lazy loop, before beginning to harry the sheep out of cover with mental shrieks.
'Let a cow out, Saphira hates sheep!' Called Eragon too the herd-master, who was looking in bewilderment at Saphira, who was making no attempt to stop Ornthrond taking her kills.
He nodded sharply, signalled something to an assistant below, then opened the pen again, letting another cow out, which Saphira immediately pounced upon, before dragging her kill back to where she'd been reclining and began to feed again.
'I've never seen a dragon let another smaller than it steal it's food,' said Sturn.
'As I just said, Saphira hates sheep; their wool gets stuck between her teeth,' said Eragon, who'd been glancing over Mortarius.
Aside from being of similar size, Mortarius also had some glaring differences to Saphira: he was leaner than Saphira, and lacked the row of spikes down his back, and his scales, upon comparison with Saphira's appeared softer.
He also had a different bearing to Saphira, where Saphira held herself with poise, and complete confidence, Mortarius seemed unsure.
On the other hand, he seemed to be possessed of a burning curiosity, gazing with covert interest at Saphira, as he ate.

Finally done, Saphira rose and came over.
Go and eat, little one, we still have far to fly today, no matter that is only a few hours. Said Saphira, as she took off, and headed back to the clearing, following Thorn's example.
Sturn looked at Eragon in askance.
'You just let her fly off? She didn't even say where she was going!' Exclaimed Sturn, looking at Eragon as if to enquire if he was mad.
'And why not? Saphira can think for herself, and she knows that we shall be leaving in a half-hour or less, depending on how fast breakfast is.' Replied Eragon.
'You're putting a lot of trust into her not flying off and causing a panic elsewhere,' said Sturn accusingly.
Eragon gave Sturn an ice-cold look.
'That may be with your dragons, but I place a lot of value upon Saphira's common sense and advice, and she is no fool; she does not need a minder.' He said.
'Do you mean to tell me you usually leave her to her own devices?' Asked Sturn, giving Eragon a censorious look.
'Sturn, if you're suggesting Captain Bromsson neglects Saphira in the same manner as the bastard who was here last night, I'll demote you to groundcrew and send Mortarius off to the breeding grounds so fast you won't know what hit you,' cut in Admiral Peterson before tensions could get any higher.
'That sounds mighty like what he sounds like,' said Sturn mutinously.
Peterson looked thunderstruck.
Before he could open his mouth to reply, Eragon took matters into his own hands, and turned Sturn so he was looking him directly in the face.
'You can keep your opinions, but I could no more bring myself to harm or neglect Saphira than I could cut out my own heart; do not believe that simply because I do not speak verbally with Saphira that we do not talk, or that she is any less intelligent than any other dragon, also, compared to Murtagh, Noelfavrel and myself, every aviator in your Corps has no bond whatsoever between dragon and rider.' Said Eragon.
He knew he was being utterly outrageous with the statement, but Sturn's remark had been of such a personal nature, that Eragon felt tempted to cut him down with Brisingr.
Sturn stiffened in outrage.
Doubtless a brawl would've erupted there and then if Arya and Angela hadn't stepped in.

The two woman broke Eragon and Captain Sturn apart, Arya giving Eragon a look of disappointment, and Angela marching Captain Sturn backwards with one finger firmly on his chest.
'Now, you are both in the wrong here, Eragon, Captain Sturn, the both of you will apologise to the other, and forget this incident ever occurred, is that clear?' The last part of the statement reached Eragon mentally.
Eragon took a moment to calm down, before looking at Captain Sturn again.
'Arya is correct, I did speak too harshly just now, and I cry your pardon for it,' said Eragon striving for a civil tone.
Captain Sturn gingerly stepped away from Angela's pressing finger, and stepped around her.
'I sounded a properly arrogant, snob there I suppose,' admitted Captain Sturn, 'and I must apologise for it, I suppose that your methods of handling a dragon differ from ours, and greatly by the sound of it.' He said, sounding abashed.
Eragon nodded in acquiescence, 'apology accepted.' He said.
'Now, let's go and see about breakfast, the sooner we get to Loch Laggan, the better,' said Arya, and strode off in the direction of the keep.

'I'll stay with Galzra, just bring me out something when you're done!' Called Noelfavrel after the group as they followed Arya.
We will, promised Eragon.
This left Noelfavrel alone with Admiral Peterson and Captain Sturn.
'What was all that about?' Asked Galzra, looking between the Admiral, her rider, and Captain Sturn.
'I don't think the Admiral gave Captain Peterson the full story involving us,' said Noelfavrel, sharing the relevant details with Galzra via telepathy, along with a piece of advice along the lines of 'don't think out loud about this, unless the Admiral decides to tell Captain Sturn.'
'And what exactly did you leave out last night Admiral?' Asked Sturn coolly, as Mortarius came over, resulting in Galzra subtly placing Captain Sturn between herself and the adolescent Yellow Reaper.
You did tell him about the whole 'telepathy' thing, right? Asked Noelfavrel.
I didn't think it'd make that much of a difference, admitted Peterson. Looks like I was wrong.
Or, you didn't you think he'd believe you, Admiral? Asked Noelfavrel, doing his best to keep smug amusement from his thoughts.
There is that. Admitted Peterson.
'Admiral. Tell. Me. What. You. Left. Out.' Said Captain Sturn in a deadly serious tone, and Mortarius leaned forward, curious to know what all the fuss was about, and inadvertently sending Galzra scurrying into Noelfavrel, and knocking him over.
Peterson sighed, and gave in.
'Come on, the fewer who know of this, the fewer who can blow this way out of proportion with wild rumours.' He said, motioning for Mortarius and Sturn to follow him.
'Don't mind me, I'll catch up, I need to have a private word with Galzra,' said Noelfavrel as he picked himself up.


Galzra shuffled her wings as Mortarius, Sturn and Peterson walked off towards the clearing where they'd slept.
She had a sense of what Noelfavrel wanted to ask her, and she wasn't well pleased with the idea.
'Galzra,' said Noelfavrel, kneeling down to the hatchling's level, 'I know you're scared of Thorn and Ornthrond, but I don't know why, they wouldn't hurt you, so why are you so scared of them?' He asked.
Galzra was silent for a moment, and Noelfavrel could feel that she was scared and confused.
'I don't know, I think it might be because they're males, but its mainly this feeling I get that they will hurt me if I get in their way,' she said at last in a small voice.
Noelfavrel put a comforting hand on Galzra's neck.
'You fear them instinctually.' He said, gently. 'You should listen to your instincts Galzra, but this is one you're going to have to learn to fight, it would be a huge disadvantage in battle if you were to shy away from an enemy dragon simply because they were male, and if you fled, or backed off, like you do around Thorn and Ornthrond, that would reflect badly on the both of us: I'd be accused of cowardice, and what do you think other dragons would say to it?'
Galzra looked down, shamefacedly, and Noelfavrel could feel her hurt.
'And what if I do not wish to fight?' Asked Galzra, in a tone that bespoke her hurt.
Noelfavrel couldn't help but feel pity for Galzra, and, she was less than a day old, he reminded himself, so he decided to let it slide for the time being.
'I would never ask you to do something I would not do myself, or to do something that would put us in danger without cause; I never sought a life where I had to fight, it just happened that I had no choice,' confided Noelfavrel. 'Now, let's leave this here, you're less than a day old, and I do not think you should worry yet, about battle, or the thoughts of others, plenty of time when you're older for that, however, can you try and tolerate Thorn's and Ornthrond's presence?' Asked Noelfavrel gently.
Galzra nodded, and looked up into her Rider's eyes.
'I will try.' She said in a small voice.
Then together, they headed back towards the clearing where they'd stayed the night.


When the rest of the group returned from breakfast, Eragon noted, as they entered the clearing, that Mortarius and Captain Sturn were looking at him and Murtagh with a look of half-awe, half-envy.
It took less than five minutes to repack Saphira's, Thorn's and Ornthrond's saddlebags, a process which Captain Sturn and Mortarius watched with mild interest.
Mortarius was already in his harness and, after the covert's servants had stowed Captain Sturn's effects, he reared back on his haunches, and gave the harness a vigorous shaking.
'All lies well,' he said with a note of excitement as he came down on his forelimbs once more.
'Alright, all aboard,' said Sturn, motioning, and Angela, Joed, Angela and Solembum crawled into Mortarius' belly rigging, empty of other crew though it was.

Captain Sturn had only become a Captain three months previously, and he and Mortarius had been heading for Loch Lagan for training, and were now enlisted in helping ferry the Alagaësians.
Noelfavrel looked meaningfully at Galzra.
Don't squirm, and just keep still, and you won't get hurt. Promised Noelfavrel, as he clacked the twin carabiners together.
A feeling of grim acknowledgement was Galzra's response, as Mortarius gently picked her up by the back of her harness and carefully placed her on the small of his back, before doing the same for Noelfavrel, who quickly latched one of his carabiners onto Galzra's harness, and it's twin onto Mortarius'.
'You're going to need someone to hook on the other side boy, otherwise that dragonet is liable to just slide off,' called Sturn.
Noelfavrel nodded, and groped around with his mind, until he felt one below, which promptly slammed a mental dagger into his mind, causing him to wince.
Arya! Shouted Noelfavrel in exasperation.
This had better be good, boy, said Arya dangerously.
I need someone else up here to latch onto the other side of Galzra's harness so we don't slide off mid-flight. Explained Noelfavrel, doing his best to ignore the unearthly aspect of Arya's mindscape.
Fine, but you'll need to work on your telepathy, it felt like someone hit me with a brick in the head when you touched my mind just now, said Arya with a hint of amusement.
A few moments later, Arya appeared on Galzra's opposite side, before a dull clink, signalled that she'd latched onto Galzra's harness.
'We're ready now Captain!' Called Noelfavrel.
Sturn nodded, then waved over to Eragon, who was by now ready to leave on Saphira's saddle, sharing it with Lieutenant Gregs.
Another few moments, and they were aloft, and headed northward once more.

This chapter evolved from what I wanted it to, into something else entirely, and I just couldn't stop the flow, so…
Ah well, that's just how it goes in this trade.

So, thanks for this time around:

For the Favourite Author add, I'd like to thank Throy567.

For Reviewing, I'd like to thank Hideout Writer and RandomDragonFan.

A special thank you also to RandomDragonFan for helping with a couple of idea-bouncing discussions.

Well, next time it will definitely be on to Loch Laggan.
Or cut to an interlude involving the Varden getting on without their rider.

Whichever fits.

'Til then:

No One-liners.