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Chapter Fourteen.
Time.
Eragon sat still in shock. "Wh-what do you mean, master? Morzan-"
"Morzan was not your father, and his son is only your half-brother." Oromis looked him over carefully, "I expect you have some questions for me now."
"I-what do you- how did you - but Murtagh!" Eragon burst out.
"Murtagh told you it in the ancient language, yes, but it was only what he believed. In actual fact, Brom was your sire."
"How?" gaped Eragon weakly.
Oromis sighed again. "I am not completely sure of all the points, understand Eragon, but I will do my best. First, you have my assurance that you are indeed his son, you are alike in may ways." Oromis stopped again, gathering his thoughts, while Eragon stared blankly. "Your mother already had her son, Murtagh, when the news of the egg came. Morzan, who was by then the last of the Forsworn, was sent to get it back. As he was wont to do, he took Selena along too. No doubt for his foul purposes."
"As you know, Morzan was killed in Teirm and and then Selena was left alone. Brom found her, and after making sure she was safe and true, invited her to travel with him. She did, probably in debt to him, and there was also the fact that she had nowhere else to go, and so they travelled."
"They travelled far, from Gil'ead to Dras Leona, and wherever else Brom's work as an agent for the Varden took him. It was in Daret the she found she was pregnant. The two were deeply, deeply in love, and Brom knew he could not raise a family. Selena had family, your Uncle Garrow and Marian, and she wanted to take you there to be born."
"She insisted on going alone, so he left her as close to the village as he could, and she went to Garrow and Marian. Once you had been born, she heard news from his friend, Jeod,that Brom was in Dras Leona, and so she hastened that way."
"But it was a trap, set up by Galbatorix himself,though why he wanted her, I have no knowledge. In Dras Leona she was caught again, and taken back to Uru'Baen. I do not know what happened in Uru'Baen, but Selena was not killed just then. She was reunited with Murtagh, and she lived another few months, before dying peacefully in her sleep." Oromis stopped, head bowed, facing Eragon across the table.
Eragon was in shocked silence. Finally he managed to get some of his scattered thoughts about him. "But why didn't Brom stop her? He should have insisted on coming with her to Uncle's house!"
"Ah, Eragon, I don't know." Oromis shook his head, "Perhaps he didn't want your Uncle and Aunt to see him and remember him. I can not make any proper guesses, as the only ones who know are now gone into the void."
"He didn't tell me." Eragon wasn't sure how he felt about this. He thought for a while, as Oromis, too, gathered his thoughts. "I suppose he had to have it that way." he said after a while. Oromis appeared surprised.
"Why do you say that, Eragon?" he asked carefully.
Eragon was quiet a little longer, thinking, before he answered. "If he had told me, word would leaked out to Galbatorix, and he would have killed us. I wish I'd known before though. I wish he was still alive."
"But he cared for you a lot, Eragon." Eragon looked at him, and the old elf smiled. "He went to live in Carvahall with you, and I expect he always had time for you, didn't he?"
Eragon answered slowly, surprised. "Yes, he always had time for me. I used to bombard him with questions abut that Riders and the Dragons and I used to beg for stories and songs about the times of old." Eragon smiled reminiscently, "I used to say 'why, why, why' to everything he said, until he snapped "Because the sky's so high!" And I was so surprised the first time he said it, but he always told me in the end, especially if I got upset. And he used to give me nice food. Strange stuff, like blue cheese and blackberry tea. I could never understand where he got it from."
Oromis had listened to this trip through Eragon's memories quietly, patiently waiting for him to finish. "You accept that he was your father, then?"
"I do. And I do not blame him for anything."
Oromis nodded in approval. "Well done, Eragon. You really have matured since I have known you."
"Thank-you, master," said Eragon quietly.
"You have a lot to think about,Eragon, you may leave."
"Oh!" he said surprised, "Thank-you, master."
They walked out to the dragons. Saphira had her head laid on the ground, dejected. Glaedr was next to her, his magnificent head arched, staring into the canyon, deep in thought.
Saphira?
She raised her head. Yes, Little One?
Oromis says we may go. He didn't offer any details yet, as he couldn't quite manage the energy necessary for it. She didn't ask any questions.
All right, Eragon, let's go.
Eragon turned to Oromis. "It is good to see you again, master," he said.
"I feel the same." Oromis acknowledged with a smile. "Tomorrow come straight to me, as I have not yet found someone to spar with you, now Vanir is gone."
"Yes master, goodbye."
"Goodbye Eragon."
Eragon mounted Saphira, and they were soon flying, Eragon still absorbing the unexpected news that Oromis had told him.
Did Oromis tell you of Brom? Asked Saphira heavily.
How did you know?!
I was the one who told him.
What!?
I told him.
But – how did you know?
Brom told me himself.
What?! Cried Eragon again.
He told me everything while we hunted those Urgals you tried to kill.
But why didn't he tell me!?
For the same reasons as you told Oromis. And that he didn't believe you mature enough to receive the information. Please don't be angry at me, Eragon. I did it for the best. She spoke so dejectedly that he calmed down.
I'm sorry, Saphira. So when did you tell Oromis?
Today.
Oh! When he was silent for a while?
Yes. Brom wished you to know that he loved your mother as much as the sun and the moon, and that her death broke his heart yet again, and he loved you as well. He said he hopes that you will have better luck in life than he did, and that he will always be with us.
Oh Brom...
Eragon was thoroughly miserable. His father was dead, his mother was dead, his brother was the lowest of the low and once again, his emotions were in turmoil. The identity of his father had changed twice, from a murderer and betrayer, to the greatest man Eragon had ever known; one of the most prestigious and important people in the Varden, and among the elves as well. It would be far better to be able to call himself, Eragon, son of Brom, rather than Eragon, son of none.
Thank-you Saphira. He said suddenly, as they entered their house.
For what, Little One?
I don't know...but you were wise with what Brom told you. He was right, I wasn't mature enough to handle it.
Oh Eragon...Saphira nuzzled him. He stood in front of her, and wrapped his arms around her huge neck.
I love you, Saphira.
I love you as well, Little One.
Eragon sat down and grabbed some fruit, still relishing the fresh taste, and just thought about this new revelation, and about Brom, his father.
His father...
It sounded good to say that, rather than living with the fear that the Varden would find out about Morzan. Murtagh had said that Galbatorix was very pleased to find out that information. Well, he would have a hard time manipulating Eragon now! He had played mind-tricks on Murtagh that first time, by exploiting that fact that he was his fathers son. Eragon would not be manipulated that same way!
Eragon felt slightly more at peace, now that he had resolved that in his mind. He was proud to be Brom's son!
What would Brom think of him now? He wondered. He would probably give him an earsplitting lecture over Elva, then drill him full of questions, to try and get some common sense into his head; because, 'there is reason we are born with brains in our head instead of rocks!' as he had frequently reminded Eragon since the age of five.
Brom had filled Eragon full of stories about the days before Galbatorix, which Aunt Marian had called, "Dangerous nonsense, and Uncle Garrow had referred to as "Harmless fluff,". And so between Brom and the older members of the village, Eragon had had a thorough grounding about everything that had happened within living memory, (or beyond it for Brom). From how Ivor had lost his middle finger, to how Morn's grandfather had caught and killed an Urgal in the craggy heights above the Anora Falls.
Eragon finished the juicy fruit and stared at the large seed, annoying and unanswerable thoughts buzzing around his mind. Finally, unable to deal with the silent questions, he reached for his sword and and buckled it on.
I am going to the training fields, he told Saphira.
All right Little One. Will you walk?
Yes, if that is fine for you.
Of course it is. Enjoy yourself.
Thank-you.
Eragon emerged at the bottom of his tree, and looked around a minute before heading towards the training fields. Once there, he looked around. Who was gong to spar with him?
--
"Why are you here, Niduen?" Arya said as calmly as possible to the dark-haired blue-eyed elf in front of her.
"It was not my choice." Niduen said calmly.
"But why didn't you fight his wishes? I thought you liked Ellesmera. You were born here!"
"I am not like you, Arya. I do not see that need to go against everything that my parents say." Niduen replied, her voice rising slightly.
"We said that we would be best friends forever, that we would stay together." Arya's voice trembled with emotion. "You never visited me, not once! I was a thirty year-old girl, growing up alone, and when my mother banned me from her presence, where were you? You were not there for me, like friends should be! I had go to the Varden on my own, with two elves I had never met before! And you did not even visit when I was in Osilon!"
"What did you want me to do, Arya?! My father will not talk to your mother, he has not got over Evandar's death!" Niduen was breathing heavily. "I am the next heir to the throne after you. He wanted me as far away from the ruling city as he could manage."
"I was completely alone, Niduen! Why didn't you send word?" Arya felt the terrible lump in her throat that she had not felt for so long. "All alone in the largest city of the elves! Was it so hard to write to me?"
Niduen noticed a tiny break in her voice, nearly undetectable. "Arya, you can not have been alone. There are plenty of people in Ellesmera. Surely you weren't alone."
"I was! They treat me like a princess, as if I am incapable of intelligent conversation, or perhaps they thought that I would break if they touched me!"
"Oh, Arya..." Niduen said at a loss or words. "I couldn't send word to you. You know what my father is like. He loved my mother and his brother so much, and when they had that last fight...he decided that we should go. He does not want me to rule, yet he does not want you or Islanzadi to either. There will be fierce competition in Tialdari hall now."
Arya stared at her aghast. "Your father? Here? Why did someone not tell me?!"
Niduen stared at her helplessly. "I hadn't got round to that yet but-"
"But what?" Arya exclaimed. "How dare he just-"
"Arya! Quiet! My father is here on the invitation of your mother!"
Arya felt her mouth wanting to drop, "But why would she do that?"
Niduen averted her eyes, "I think she wants to tell you herself."
"Niduen! Do you know?"
"I know some small things of the agreement. But she wants to tell you herself," the elf insisted. "So please do not press me."
Arya released her hold on her sword. "All right, I won't." Niduen looked relieved. "My mother is in a council at the moment, I will talk to her afterwards. Please leave my home."
Niduen looked injured at her tone, and walked head held high to the door, where she turned and looked back at her irate cousin. Arya's hair was swinging wildly, her eyes were furious and crinkled, and her hands trembled on the pommel of the sword she had been restraining herself from drawing ever since Niduen and her had started their discussion. "Arya, I want you to think on what I've said. I never break my word, and I swore that I would make amends between our families." Niduen turned and left, her loose hair swishing with her movements.
Arya stared at the door. "And a lot of good it did you as well!" she cried after her. Arya clenched her teeth and stormed to her bedroom, where she pinned her hair behind a leather strip. She would take her anger out on some elf foolish enough to challenge her, not that there were may left. "Make amends!" she muttered angrily to herself, "My mother will not tolerate his 'Lordship' here for very long. She can send to war for all I care. Let serve as a squire to Jormundr! Ha! That would serve him right! Teach him respect and humiliation. He needs it."
Arya swung her hair over her shoulder and left her room, still muttering dire threats to every member of the royal family that had not informed her of this new development. To think that her Uncle Evadarr was back. After the death of his brother he had violently opposed Islanzadi as the ruler of the elves, and after she had been announced Queen had removed himself and his daughter, Niduen, from Ellesmera. He was general of Osilon now, and Niduen was no longer a part of her life. Or so she had thought. To have both people she detested the most thrown back into her life was too unexpected for an elf just back from war. Well, she didn't really detest Niduen, but it was too soon to forgive her at the moment. She could have sent word. And why had her mother invited them back to the city?! She had not liked Evadarr any more than she, Arya, had. Perhaps it was Niduen's doing. She had said that she was trying to get the families back together. Maybe she had arranged it.
Arya stormed out of her house, surprising a peaceful Lifaen browsing the bushes, and made her angry way to the training fields.
She was just emerging from there trees onto the empty field, when she realised there was someone behind her. She whirled to the side and drew her sword, bringing it to the neck of the person. A clatter of steel hit her blade, and surprised, she jumped round to face the intruder. She froze. Intense brown eyes locked with hers.
"Eragon!"
"Arya." It was a statement, not a question.
"What are you doing?" she asked, her anger not abated.
"I was going to the training fields." He looked her over, sheathing his knife, "You?"
"I was going there as well." They fell into step beside each other. "How was your first day back in Ellesmera?" she asked.
"It was-it was- well, words cannot describe it." he said, at a loss.
"What do you mean?" she asked in astonishment. She knew he would be glad to be back, but surely that was a little excessive?
"I-" Eragon looked at Arya. She was staring back at him in concern. "It was about my ... family."
"Ah," she said. "I see."
Eragon doubted that she did, but said nothing.
Arya said nothing about his 'family' and they were silent for a little while, until Eragon asked her; "Who was that elf in Tialdari Hall yesterday? Niduen."
"Oh." said Arya, her face darkening. "She is my cousin, but I have not acknowledged her father as my uncle since the age of thirty." Seeing Eragon's confused face, she quickly elaborated. "Niduen is the daughter of Evadarr and Lilena, my fathers brother and sister-in-law, and she was my best friend, before my mother took the throne, anyway.
"Evadarr loved my father deeply, they were as close a brothers can get, and when he was killed he did not want my mother to take the throne. However, she was crowned Queen of the Elves, and in a rage he left Ellesmera, taking his daughter, Niduen, with him. His mate had been killed in our old city of Ewayena, shortly before Evandar. He said that our families would never again be united, and that he wished for his child to have no doing in the corrupted ways of our courts. He swore that he would never return."
"But now his daughter is back?" pressed Eragon.
"Not just her. Her father as well." Arya nearly spat the word.
"Why do you hate her so much?"
"I don't hate her, I'm just not ready to forgive her yet. As for what she has done...that, also, is a long story. She left me without saying a proper goodbye, and she never wrote to me or sent word by the messengers that frequently go between the settlements. In the eyes of elves, I was just a young girl, and as a princess, I was left alone by the other elves. I am just not ready to forgive her yet," she repeated, slightly hopelessly.
Eragon bowed his head in respect, thinking over what she said. "Have you talked to her yet?"
"Niduen? Yes, I have. We shouted quite a bit." she added ruefully.
Eragon smiled slightly. Arya shouting would not be for the faint-hearted. "What did she say?"
"She told me her silly reasons for doing what she did. And I suppose she apologised as best she could."
"Do you forgive her then?"
"I don't know. I will, in time. But they haven't given me any, and my mother invited him back to the city without mentioning it to me!" Arya sighed. "I'm just confused, Eragon, that's all."
He nodded. Appearing to be steeling himself, he asked, "Would you have my advice?"
She stiffened, but looked at him, touched. "I would."
He nodded gain, and caught her eyes. "She is your family. You were once friends. You should reconcile with one another. Family is the most precious thing a person can have, be it child, spouse or brother. Family has more important ties than any magic can conceive. You should accept her apology. It is better to stand united against Galbatorix than as strong individuals." Eragon stopped, and Arya let out her breath. She had never heard him say anything so wise, or heartfelt.
"You are right, Eragon. I will think deeply on what you say. But now, would you like to spar with me?" Arya asked, standing up.
"I would be honoured, Arya Svit-Kona." he said, also rising.
She smiled, and they stepped back to the training field. The settled into position, blunting their blades with magic. Arya lunged first, charging then feinting left to strike on his right calf. He jumped back attacking her ribs before dancing out of her reach again. They fought for hours, while the elves around came and watched, leaving later, but always replaced by more.
Finally, Eragon flipped over her head. She spun to face him, twisting left before he could flick his heavy sword to her throat, but he also vaulted left, coming close to her, and quickly manoeuvring the sword edge to rest on her ribs. She froze, and they held the position for a moment before breaking away, panting and perspiration on their bodies.
Finally, Arya spoke when her breath regulated again. "You are an excellent swordsman, Eragon. Few in Ellesmera can defeat me at sword-wielding."
"You honour me, Princess. But it was just luck."
"I do not think so!" She exclaimed, as she walked over to him, and they turned to leave the field. "You defeated me by the skill of your arms, luck had nought to do with it. You should not have such a low opinion of yourself," she said, and smiled as he turned slightly red.
"Thank-you," he murmured.
They walked through Ellesmera, oblivious to their surroundings. They were too busty talking, lost in their own conversation. They were walking past a round house, with workshop inside, when a hoarse voice called to them.
"Rider! Ho, Rider, come here!"
They spun around, surprised, and saw that Rhunon was outside her house, waving to them.
"Greetings, Rhunon-elda." said Eragon politely.
She scowled. "Never mind all that, where is my creation? My sword?"
"What do you mean, Rhunon?" asked Arya.
"Zar'oc! I notice you have a sword at your belt and I want to know why it is not wine-red!"
Eragon sighed again, but his good mood at talking to Arya did not completely evaporate. "It was stolen by Morzan's heir, Murtagh, his son, at the battle of the Burning Plains."
"What?!" she cried, "How could you let that happen?!"
"It is unavoidable when fighting an untiring foe,trained by Galbatorix himself in the Dark Arts. " He growled. "If you will excuse me." and he left, hand on his sword.
Arya bowed to Rhunon, swiftly, and ran after him. "Eragon!" he stopped and waited for her. She walked next to him, deciding not say anything to him about Rhunon.
I will see you tomorrow, Eragon," she said, as they stood beneath his tree.
He bowed, "I look forward to it."
She smiled and the both departed in far better spirits than they had been a few hours ago.
When Eragon reached his house he found that Saphira was not there, hunting, most likely, so he sat at his table and brewed himself some tea.
Rhunon was a fool if she thought he let Murtagh get Zar'oc. There was no way he could have stopped him taking the sword. And then there was Brom. Eragon knew that in time he would reconcile himself to the fact that Brom was his father, but it would still take a while to come home to him.
Arya was right about not being given enough time. Time was something that there seemed to be a lot of in Ellesmera, and so he hoped that Arya would heed his advice and accept her cousin's apology.
Tomorrow would come, whether he was happy or not, and he would make the best of it.
--
Just a filler, but I hope you enjoyed it! Back to training next chapter, which is where I've drawn a blank completely. Never mind, I hope I'll bet over it!
Please R&R, they make my day!
I've started a forum on Book Three, called Book Three, (I was really inventive with the name) so if you're confused I have stuff about Brom on there. Please leave a reply, I've hardly had any!