Chapter 14: Short and Forgotten
Eragon craned his neck back as Saphira leisurely glided over the city of Belatona. The yellow sun was beginning to near the horizon, and below them Eragon could see hundreds of tiny people running around trying to prepare for the celebration planned for that evening.
He and Saphira had spent nearly the entire day at peace in the sky. At times he had felt like he shouldn't ignore Arya so much, but he remembered that moments like this with Saphira were rare during the war. Spending time with Arya was not quite as difficult, especially now that she had openly admitted her love for him.
Still, despite all the things that seemed to be going his way, Eragon had a strange feeling. Saphira? he asked.
Hmm?
Don't you feel like we're...forgetting something?
He felt a strange emotion in her mind that he wasn't able to immediately identify, and then she said, Now that you mention it...I do.
Strange, Eragon commented.
Saphira was about to return to the Varden to attend the celebration when the sound of distant marching drums reached their ears. At first Eragon tensed, thinking that the Empire might be planning a retaliation attack, but then he realized that the sound was coming from the south rather than the north.
As Saphira turned to face the sound Eragon's mouth dropped open. The entire army of dwarves was approaching the Varden at a relatively quick rate. He wondered why he and Saphira hadn't noticed them earlier in the day, but realized that they had been flying high enough for clouds to hinder their vision.
I can't believe we forgot about the dwarves, he said.
Not only us, Saphira added. Nasuada and the others forgot as well.
I guess with all that has happened in the past week it is understandable.
What do you say to giving Orik a greeting? Maybe even a ride back to the Varden so he can attend the celebration tonight.
Eragon grinned at the thought of finally getting to spend some more time with Orik. It had really only been around a month since they had seen each other, but it felt like much longer. Let's go.
Saphira flapped her wings to quickly travel the distance between them and the dwarves. In a very uncharacteristic moment, she decided to land without making any attempt at impressing the dwarves below, instead preferring a slow and leisurely descent into a soft landing close to where King Orik was marching at the front of his people.
Eragon watched as Orik made a few hand gestures at the drum carriers nearest him. They immediately played several notes and the dwarves quickly halted. Eragon quickly dismounted Saphira and they walked forward together, noting the seemingly nervous dwarves near the front of the army.
Orik moved forward to greet them as well, waving away his guards as they tried to follow. Both Eragon and Orik bore expressions of happiness at reuniting once again. As they reached each other, Eragon bent his knees slightly and leaned down to embrace Orik, forgoing any sort of formal greeting with his foster brother.
Laughing in his deep voice, Orik returned the gesture. They quickly separated, giving Saphira the opportunity to lower her head so that she could look Orik in the eyes. King Orik, she said. It pleases me to see you again.
"Blast, if it isn't good to see you as well!" Orik replied. "Both of you," he added, gesturing at Eragon.
"How have you been, Orik?" Eragon asked kindly.
"Well enough, and you?" He replied. But, before Eragon could respond, he glanced back at the dwarves behind him. "How about we catch up on the way back to the Varden? The dwarves have been marching all day, and I would not want to keep them waiting while we exchange pleasantries."
Eragon shook his head. "Saphira and I are expected back at the Varden soon for a celebration. Would you like to fly there with us?"
Orik appeared thoughtful for a long moment, and then nodded with a grin on his face. "How could I say no? Just promise that you won't do anything crazy, Saphira."
She snorted, blowing a puff of smoke at Orik. In a resigned voice she said, As you wish.
Eragon waited patiently as Orik beckoned to one of the dwarves that had been marching with him. The dwarf hurried up, looking somewhat fearful of Saphira, and waited for Orik's command.
"Garok," Orik said. "Lead the dwarves to Belatona and make sure they settle comfortably. I'm going to be flying there with Eragon and Saphira."
"What about your guards?" Garok asked, speaking in an strong accent that Eragon wasn't quite able to place.
"I trust Eragon and his elvish guard to protect me until you arrive." Garok glanced at Eragon, and then slowly nodded. "Go," Orik commanded, gesturing towards Belatona.
Garok returned to the dwarves and gave the order to resume marching as soon as Saphira took flight. Realizing that they were in the way, Eragon gracefully leaped into the saddle. From below, Orik stared up at him and grumbled, "How am I supposed to get up there now, Eragon?"
With a faint smile, Eragon held out his hand and motioned upwards. Orik cursed to himself as he quickly rose several feet. As soon as Eragon had pulled him onto Saphira's back he released his spell and fastened the saddle straps around Orik's legs.
As soon as Eragon finished, Saphira turned herself around and jumped into the sky, flapping a few times so that she flew high enough to clear the walls of the city, but not bothering to ascend much further due to the short distance that they were traveling.
"Eragon," Orik called, shouting over the sound of the wind. "Islanzadí never contacted me about Arya's condition. What did you say to her to keep her so distant?"
Eragon gently pressed against Orik's mind so that they could speak mentally, and Orik hesitantly released his barriers. Not invading any further than needed to speak, Eragon said, Nothing. You can ask her about it tonight if you really want.
Tonight? She is here?
Yes.
Why? Orik questioned.
Eragon stiffened. Orik? he asked carefully. How much do you know about the last couple weeks?
We've had no news for quite some time. The dwarves did not march through Surda, as such we passed through the last of our cities nearly three weeks ago. We haven't received word from the Varden or elves since. Since that was the case, we assumed everything has been going according to plan. Orik paused for a second, and then asked, Why? Did something happen?
Eragon thought about the best way to answer Orik's question. He was about to tell Orik the full story, but Saphira quickly whispered a few words in his mind and he couldn't help but smile to himself in amusement. Doing his best to appear genuine, he said, Nothing important. It caught me off guard that you did not know Islanzadí was here.
Ah, Orik said, apparently believing Eragon.
Privately, to Saphira, Eragon whispered, He's never going to forgive me for not telling him.
Don't be so dramatic, she responded with a snort. It's all in good fun. If he won't let me fly as I wish, I will amuse myself at his expense.
Be fair, said Eragon. You would have done the same thing even if he had let you fly as you want.
There was silence across their link for a long minute, and then she said, Perhaps. Eragon mentally shook his head.
Eragon felt Orik tighten his arms around him as Saphira glided down towards the city's center, where the Varden had decided to hold the celebration. Eragon quickly dismounted, helping Orik down as well. He cast out his mind in search of Arya, immediately finding her close by.
Eragon. She said simply, affection in her tone.
Arya, where are you?
She sent him an image of a large table with eight seats around it. I'm inside with Nasuada and my mother. You should see all that they have set up in such a short time. Eragon thought he heard a trace of amusement in her words, but he couldn't be sure.
I'll be right there. I have a special guest with me.
Who might that be? She asked with interest.
Someone we all forgot, he said simply, withdrawing from her mind and beckoning to Orik and Saphira.
Together, they made their way into the area. Saphira quickly branched off to a large platter of meat that was clearly set up for her, while Orik and Eragon continued on to where Arya and the others were at.
Eragon marveled at everything that had happened in such a short time. Only a day ago he had been fighting Galbatorix in the very same spot, but in such a short time it had been changed into a safe and happy location.
There were dozens of round tables all on one side of the courtyard. Eragon was able to make out the figures of Arya, Nasuada, Islanzadí, Roran, Orrin, and Jörmundur all sitting together at the table closest to edge of the arrangement, making it so they had the best view of the things happening on the other side courtyard.
On the other side Eragon saw several sword duels happening. There was an organized riddling contest, all of which was available for anyone to participate in. Also, there was a large mirror in full view of all the tables. He wasn't sure what to expect.
He noticed Orik glancing around with interest as well, and the dwarf said, "What is all of this about anyway?"
Eragon smiled at him. "Nasuada said that this was a party in my honor, so I suppose I'm the guest of honor."
Orik cast him a sideways glance. "You must have impressed her greatly for her to go to all this trouble." Eragon laughed, not bothering to reply.
They quickly reached the table, and Eragon greeted the assembled kings and queens, drawing their attention. All six of them turned in his direction, and Eragon couldn't help but laugh at their expressions as they saw Orik.
Nasuada's was the most surprised, she had her hand over her open mouth. Islanzadí just stared, Arya appeared amused. Jörmundur looked embarrassed, and Orrin and Roran both cursed in surprised tones.
"What?" Orik asked, looking angry at their strange reactions to his presence.
Nasuada sighed, dropping into the nearest chair. "King Orik, let me be the first to apologize for not contacting you recently. We must have forgotten."
Orik waved his hand dismissively. "It isn't an issue. Your reactions are the biggest concern I have." He gestured around. "You seem to have done a fine job conquering Belatona. There was no need to contact me."
Nasuada glanced at Eragon, and she appeared to connect the dots as she smiled widely. Clearly trying to control her amusement, she said, "Thank you, Orik. I'm glad that you and the dwarves have finally arrived, and in time for this celebration no less."
"Indeed," King Orrin added.
Nasuada stood back up and gestured at the seven empty chairs at their table. "Please sit and I'll make the opening statement now that Eragon is here."
Everyone seemed to be waiting for Eragon to sit down, so he did. Arya sat next, making sure that she was next to him. Roran sat to his left, and then Islanzadí took her seat next to Arya. Orik decided to sit next to Roran, leaving Jörmundur and Orrin to take the seats on either side of Nasuada.
Eragon glanced around briefly and noted that his guards, along with Nasuada's Nighthawks, were all seated at the tables around them. Everyone seemed to be dressed casually for the event, including himself and the other leaders. In truth, he was only interested in what Arya was wearing, which was a simple emerald tunic with long pants. Even with the simple attire she looked absolutely stunning.
She noticed him staring at her and she smiled at him. "How was your day?" she asked softly.
"Peaceful," he replied simply.
With a nod, she said, "It is a nice change."
They were kept from saying anything else by Nasuada. She stood up, tapping her glass to get everyone's attention. The assembled people quickly grew quiet as they waited for her to speak. .
She drew a deep breath, and then said, "Yesterday the tides of this war turned in our favor, as you all no doubt know by now. It is a day that must be celebrated, which is why we are here now. Tonight we have some of the finest food available, games of swordplay and riddles for those interested, and several other things. It has come to my attention that many of you were not able to watch yesterday's extraordinary events. I spoke with Queen Islanzadí of the elves about how we might be able to recreate that, and she told me of a particular form of magic that would suit this quite well." She gestured at Islanzadí. "Queen Islanzadí, if you would explain it please..."
Islanzadí stood up, cleared her throat, and said, "There is a method of magic called scrying, which is used to generate an image of something you are thinking of. This image is usually displayed on a reflective surface such as a mirror or pool of water. It is also possible for one create an image of a memory on the mirror."
Nasuada nodded at her in thanks. "Eragon, if you could be the one to do it I think everyone would be pleased. If you decline one of the other elves will substitute their memory of the event."
Eragon glanced at Arya, and then at Saphira, who was sitting some distance away in front of a platter of food. They both seemed to approve, so he stood up with a small sigh. Raising his voice so that everyone could hear, he said, "I will gladly share my memory of the event, but I must say a few words before I do." He cleared his throat. "A memory shared by this method is incomplete by nature. You will not be able to experience the magical part of the battle. Also, I might be forced to hide certain things in the memory because of promises I've made to others. If this is acceptable, I'll share my memory. If not, one of the elves can share their version."
The Varden crowd seemed almost unanimous in their cheers of approval for Eragon showing his version, which brought a smile to his face. He waved his hands for them to quiet down, and then he nodded at Nasuada and Islanzadí, both of whom were still standing. They took their seats as he made his way over to the mirror.
Eragon gathered his thoughts, remembering all the details that he could from yesterday's events. He also took care to cut out any images of his necklace glowing, as he did not want people knowing that was his source of power.
Satisfied, he placed one hand on the side of the mirror. He closed his eyes and felt out the mirror with his mind, infusing it with his memory. It was so much more simple than the several dozen lines of elvish that he would have had to recite in order to summon the magic in the traditional way.
Eragon opened his eyes and examined his work, a small grin on his face. It was the first time he had attempted a spell of that nature, and the result seemed flawless. There, on the surface of the mirror, was a image of his memory of his fight with Galbatorix. He had decided to start the memory as he and the elves first entered Belatona, choosing to skip the conversation beforehand and also anything that might have hinted at him being in Utgard.
The crowd had cheered briefly when the image appeared, but since then they had become rather quiet. As he walked back to the table, Eragon could hear many of the people whispering about what they were seeing, or, in some cases, talking about unrelated things.
He noticed Orik giving him a puzzled look as he sat back down between Arya and Roran. The dwarf king asked, "Barzûl, Eragon, don't keep me in suspense. What's this all about?"
"Let's just say," Roran responded, a grin on his face. "That Eragon is about to do the impossible."
Orik harrumphed at the dodgy response, so Eragon added, "You won't have to wait long. You'll understand as soon as I reach the center of the city." He glanced up at the mirror, noting that it showed him glancing around at the Empire's soldiers while they walked.
Appearing to finally understand that nobody was going to fill him in, Orik changed tact and instead began speaking to Islanzadí and her daughter. "Arya Svit-kona," he said respectfully. "I feel that I must apologize for what happened to you recently at the hands of Az Sweldn Rak Anhûin." Before Arya replied, he turned to the queen and added, "Also, I am most grateful that you have not appeared to allow this incident to interfere with our struggle against Galbatorix."
Arya responded with a simple nod, and Islanzadí said, "I cannot speak for my daughter in this, but I don't hold you or the dwarves responsible. At first I did, but Eragon's explanation of his feud with Az Sweldn Rak Anhûin helped me identify the true wrongdoers."
"Still," Orik mused. "I have wondered why you or Arya never contacted me on the matter."
"Not to downplay the seriousness of the offense, but it was not a chief concern of mine once I knew that Arya was being cared for by Eragon and that she would recover. If that was not the case, then I would have most certainly contacted you."
"Orik," Eragon interjected. "If you're so curious about what this memory is, you might want to look at the mirror."
An expression of shock spread across Orik's face as he turned towards the mirror and saw Eragon approaching Galbatorix. He flicked his gaze back to Eragon, and Eragon winked at him, a small smile on his face. Orik didn't bother to reply, instead choosing to glue his eyes to the mirror and watch the events unfold.
For about an hour Eragon was unable to speak to anyone, as they were all watching the mirror intently. Bored, he yawned and leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes. To Saphira, he asked, How is your meal?
I don't think that I'll require food until we at least reach Gil'ead. The Varden is quite generous.
Speaking of Gil'ead, when do you think we should begin our journey there?
Well, it would be improper for us to arrive before the Queen, and she is leaving tomorrow.
It's a three or four day run to Gil'ead, Eragon commented.
Then we should leave in three days. That should give you enough time to settle any matters with Nasuada and Roran.
Assuming Arya agrees, that sounds fine.
Saphira snorted in response. Coincidentally, at the same time, Arya yawned next to him. "Tired?" he whispered, noting how quiet everyone else was as they watched the mirror.
"A little," she admitted. "I spent the afternoon sparring with some of the elves."
Eragon smiled faintly, suspecting her reasons. He didn't bother to inquire whether or not she won, and instead changed the subject. "Saphira thinks we should leave for Gil'ead in three days. Is that alright with you?"
Arya shrugged. "It matters not. I could leave tomorrow if we had to, but three days sounds fine."
"It's settled then," Eragon said.
Unfortunately, everyone seemed to be more interested in watching his memory than actually having a conversation, leaving him to become quite bored.
After over an hour of boredom, the memory finally ended. Everyone applauded Eragon heartily for what he had done. In return, he stood up and smiled, turning in a circle slowly and waving his hands at all those around him.
He sat back down in his seat when he had made a full rotation, returning his attention to those around him as the applause died out
Eragon found Orik staring at him with a wide grin. "Eragon, it seems that there is much you have to share with me. You couldn't do most of that the last time we spoke. What has changed? And by all the gods above and below, how did you transform yourself into a dragon?"
Eragon laughed. "Orik, most of it is secret, but what I can tell you here, now, is that it has a great deal to do with what happened at the Agaetí Blödhren."
"Oh?"
And so Eragon recounted how he had been changed into a dragon-elf, but he left out the part about the dragon magic. Orik would not have understood it all that well and if someone overheard it the information would have certainly reached Galbatorix.
"That doesn't really explain much," Orik commented sourly
"I know," Eragon replied. "Just trust me when I say that most of what is involved needs to be kept a secret for now."
Orik stared Eragon down for a time, and then nodded slowly. "I trust you Eragon, of course."
"Good!" Nasuada exclaimed. "Now, if the two of you might remember there are other people at this table." All of them laughed at her joke.
With the ice broken, the conversation quickly changed into much more lighthearted topics. They ate, drank, and talked as friends. About halfway through the evening, a rather interesting topic came up. Orrin mentioned, "You know, I seem to remember Murtagh and Nasuada sharing several rather dreamy looks while Galbatorix was, how did he put it? Negotiating with us." He snorted. "Anything we might want to know about?"
Eragon's eyes widened as he saw Nasuada blush slightly and try to deny it, but she was an awful liar. He glanced to the side at Arya to gauge her reaction, expecting mild surprise, but instead she appeared frustrated. "Nasuada, is there something you want to tell us about?" Jörmundur asked slyly.
Eragon knew that Nasuada would have never agreed to explain herself if she were sober, but for whatever reason, she answered Jörmundur with an embarrassed expression. "Oh, I don't know," she said, cheeks pink despite her dark skin. "There was a spark between us in Farthen Dûr, but nothing ever came of it. When we were defeated last week it all seemed so hopeless..."
"So you slept with Murtagh to take your mind off trying to help the Varden out of their predicament?" Arya questioned.
"No, of course not," Nasuada snapped. "It wasn't like that...I hoped that I could gain some sort of leverage or a voice that Galbatorix might actually listen to by it."
"You're sure your personal feelings were not the reason?" Orrin teased, still amused about the situation.
Nasuada glanced down. "As I said, there was a spark. But being with someone was...nice, I suppose. I don't know if I feel that way because of Murtagh or just because of the situation." She grabbed a short glass of mead and downed it in a single swallow. "Any other questions?"
"Only one," Islanzadí said in a perfectly flat, serious tone. "Did you ever stop to consider what might happen if you got pregnant from this? What effect that would have on the war?"
Nasuada uttered a bark of laughter. "No, but then again, there was no war a week ago. We were defeated. We're only here because of whatever miracle that Eragon managed to conjure up.'
"I think," Eragon said, feeling the need to be the mediator. "That this topic would be better addressed, if it is even appropriate, when we are not affected by mead and Faelnirv." Frankly, he was quite disturbed by the idea of his brother and Nasuada being together, even for such a short time, but he knew there was little he could do about it. Regardless of personal or family acquaintances, Murtagh was the enemy, and Eragon knew that he would have to kill him next time they met.
Fortunately, all of that was forgotten with another glass of Faelnirv, allowing Eragon to enjoy the evening with his friends and family.