25. Queen of the Urgralgra
More friends soon joined Varhog, Willow, and their two brothers-in-law as the Riders and their kin staying in the palace left their rooms to march out to battle. When Eragon fell in next to them, his face sorrowful, Arya was right by his side. Nasuada and Myrintuk likewise accompanied their husbands, though they were not Riders. None of these women would be parted from their mates, though Eragon and Murtagh had zealously striven to convince their wives to remain behind for their children's sakes. But they hadn't been successful, and the women had already made arrangements for their babies to be cared for by Varhog's sisters should they fall that day.
Hanin and Maehrí as well as Grintuk and Breetuk all merged with the growing throng. Knilf came alone, for Greta was so much smaller than Breetuk that though her baby was due at roughly the same time, her pregnancy affected her far more and she had a difficult time walking and standing for long periods of time without needing rest. Knilf's normal cheer was nowhere to be found as he walked next to his fellow Riders.
When Willow noticed his grim expression, she whispered, "You'll see Greta again, Knilf. You will meet your child." Knilf glanced up with a look of questioning surprise. Willow only smiled faintly and looked away.
Roran appeared with his old hammer in his belt, shadowed by several villagers from Carvahall. There were even more people in the courtyard, and once Willow and Varhog emerged, everyone fell in line behind them. Willow truly did look queenly—with her pink-orange steel-silk armor laced up her throat, Diamondfire belted to her waist, and her hair flowing down her back—and no one save Varhog knew how fitting that was.
As they silently made their way through the city, throngs of armored men swelled their ranks. By the time they reached the camps surrounding the city, hundreds of men were following Willow, Varhog, and the Riders. As they passed through the camps, elves, dwarves and Urgralgra fighting rams also joined their numbers. Beyond the outskirts of the farthest tents, the dragons finally descended, for they had been flying above since the group left the courtyard.
The wolves also came forward, and Willow was amazed by how many had arrived as she greeted them with mental words of thanks and gentle embraces. Steel's pack had grown with the birth of his cubs, but there were dozens of wolves gathered together. When she asked Steel about it, he told her that many wolves had joined his pack as they ran to her assistance, for Willow's fame had spread far beyond the reaches of Varhog's village and the surrounding forest.
Once the dragons landed, every Rider climbed to sit on their own dragon's back except for Willow and Varhog. Nothing would part them now when they knew death would so soon. They rode on Black Thunder, who also wished to make the most of the final moments he had with his Rider, and Sunset walked next to them. The dragons marched in a long row at the front of the vast assemblage of races, leading the peoples of Alagaёsia to face the last great threat to their peace.
When they arrived at the predetermined location—an immense plain north of Ilirea past the ford of the Ramr River—the sun was just beginning to peak over the outcropping hills that bordered the plain on the east. Here the land formed a gradual depression. Those at the front were the lowest, while everyone behind rose away from them. The setting would allow most of the warriors in each army to observe the events as they unfolded.
Tomath took to the skies to determine the position of Kulkarvek and his forces. When he landed, he reported that the Urgal army would arrive within the hour.
Not long after, the army from Ilirea could make out the approaching enemy on the horizon. A great cloud of dust also bespoke their imminent coming, since the wasteland over which they now traveled was dry from the summer heat.
Willow felt the tangible fear from the army behind her and Varhog. Next to Galbatorix, Kulkarvek was the most dreaded tyrant in the land. He was equally if not more mysterious. Few had ever beheld his grisly appearance and lived to speak of it. Many of the peoples of Alagaёsia actually wondered if he really existed, so long had he stewed within the confines of his dreary home so far to the north of the rest of the land.
Willow and Varhog, however, were perfectly calm. They knew how this conflict would end and that none of these people supporting them would die. But Willow sensed the anxiety, so she abruptly stood in the saddle, turning around to face the army while Varhog held her legs. Everyone could see her, for Black Thunder was in the middle of the row of dragons and was the tallest.
Magnifying her voice with magic, Willow shouted, "Peoples of Alagaёsia, do not fear! My mate and I will be forever grateful for your courage and support as we face this conflict, but none here will perish. This matter will be settled by Varhog and myself. We are the reason this terrible fate has befallen us. Our union is unacceptable in the eyes of the king of the Urgralgra, but today we will put an end to his murderous reign and peace will finally be free to exist between all of the races, including the Urgralgra and the rest. Whatever you do, do not interfere in our efforts! King Kulkarvek cannot be killed by weapons or magic, and any intervention will only ensure unnecessary harm or your untimely deaths. Take heart!"
Willow ended her stirring speech, which was met with a loud cheer. Rather than sitting, she descended from Black Thunder's back, Varhog following right behind. Kulkarvek was almost there, and the couple walked away from the dragons so the king wouldn't be so near their friends when he stopped. The other Dragon Riders and Varhog's family also distanced themselves from the army behind so they would be firsthand witnesses to whatever transpired.
When King Kulkarvek was only a dozen paces away, he came to an abrupt halt, and the hundreds of fighting rams behind him did as well. Varhog and Willow saw that he had enlisted recruits along the way and guessed many had been constrained against their wills. This was clear enough when they recognized Grintuk's sire and his brothers-in-law, who sadly regarded them as they stood behind Kulkarvek.
Plainly, however, most of the rams shared the king's deep hatred, for as Varhog had guessed, Kulkarvek had spouted all manner of lies to portray his and Willow's union in the worst possible light. Though many of these rams were from villages that Murtagh, Nasuada, Breetuk, and Grintuk had visited the previous summer—which had helped soften relations between the humans and the Urgralgra—no Urgal would immediately favor a union between one of their race's most honored rams and a human woman. These rams glared at Varhog and Willow with only slightly less hatred and revulsion than Kulkarvek.
Kulkarvek sneered at Varhog and Willow, and while Willow translated in the minds of her nearest companions who wouldn't understand, the king roared in Urgralish, "So you have gathered an army together, have you? Well, thank you! That will make my work of destroying the humans all the quicker, as I won't have to visit so many of their disgusting villages and kill them in their beds. And the more I can kill of the other races who have also long feared and hated the Urgralgra, the better. And all the dragons of Riders assembled as one? You really have made my work easy for me. None will remain standing today but those rams by my side who withstand death through the conflict. Even the Urgralgra among you will die for their treachery!"
"You are wrong, grandfather," Varhog said, exactly as he had to Garzhvog after announcing his intention of marrying Willow. "No one will die today except for me."
Willow heard several gasps from behind them as Varhog continued, "And you. As I promised in my last words to you in Anghelm, you were wrong on all counts but one, and that was that I would die. But Willow won't. Nor will our sons. Nor will all the humans. Nor will our friends. Nor will our dragons. I hope you have prepared to meet your demise, though you hardly deserve it. Galbatorix's punishment was just. You should remain to suffer in the land for all time, and I would allow that if you weren't so entirely bent on this ridiculous objective of senseless murder and destruction. However, since you are so determined, the time has arrived for your horrible reign to come to an end. I challenge you to a contest of single, hand-to-hand combat. It's the only way you can be killed. If I triumph, I will be recognized as king of the Urgralgra. If you triumph, you'll see what happens next."
"You dare defy me, grandson!" Kulkarvek bellowed, once again spitting the word 'grandson' as a curse. "For your insolence you will die! Then I will kill your hideous mate and everyone who stands behind you!" The king was clothed only in his loin cloth, needing no armor to protect him from slashing weapons. He stepped forward to indicate his readiness.
Willow was so grateful Varhog had shared his intentions with her in advance. She calmly stood by his side, tears streaming down her face. But she wasn't hysterical, as she would have been had she learned right before Varhog walked forward to face the king that he would be killed right in front of her eyes.
Before saying his final farewell to her, Varhog turned and walked to Myrintuk. "Goodbye, mother," he said, giving her a tender embrace. "I love you. I only had time to say goodbye to Trayin and Myrin. Tell the others I love them. This is my final way of showing it."
Myrintuk's tears fell swiftly, but she had no time to respond before Varhog moved over to Garzhvog and did the same. Breetuk made her way over, and Varhog hugged her.
"Farewell, Bree. I love you. Take good care of your cub and Grintuk."
"No, Varhog!" Breetuk cried. "You don't have to do this!"
"Yes I do, Bree. I must make this sacrifice. You will see why. Be brave and don't interfere." Varhog raised his voice so all of his family, closest friends, and especially Black Thunder would hear. "Do not attempt to avenge me if I fall. Only one has that right." Willow knew they understood his meaning, but he wasn't going to give Kulkarvek any idea of what to expect.
Then Varhog returned to Willow, enfolding her in his arms as she circled her own around his neck and pressed into him.
"I love you, Yelloweyes," Willow breathed. "I'm so honored I had this brief time with you. I will never forget it, nor you. Your sacrifice will not be in vain. I will triumph so our sons will not lose both of their parents today." Her tears had never ceased, and they mingled with Varhog's as he leaned down to kiss her.
"Willow," he cried, "to say I love you doesn't do my feelings justice, but I don't have time to go into it. I love you, beautiful mate of mine. I don't know what my existence will be like after today, but I'm sure I will never forget you. Tell our sons—" He choked on his next words.
"I'll tell them, sweetheart," Willow promised. "I will explain, and they'll understand in time. They will love their noble father all the more when they do. I'll share my memories of you with them. We will always remember, and love, and miss you more than I can possibly say, but I'll be strong. I have a family now to help me. Your family." She was beginning to lose her composure, so Varhog kissed her again, and they both infused it with all the love they could, knowing it was their last.
When Varhog released her, Willow whimpered to stifle a sob and bit her lip to still the tremors, quickly running her hands over his face and around his horns. "Farewell, Varhog."
"Willow," he whispered his last word, cupping her face in his hand before turning, unbelting Drajavek, and undressing to his undergarments.
Willow watched Varhog until he stepped forward, then she walked over to Tarhvek. "Hold me back," she muttered. "Just in case." Her brother's eyes had tears in them, but he wrapped his arms around her chest and shoulders as she leaned back into him.
Varhog's voice entered her mind, instructing, Get in your fighting mind, Willow. And stay with me. It is essential for your success.
I will be with you until the end, she replied, grateful her mental voice didn't quaver with the overpowering emotions she felt.
Kulkarvek had begun bouncing on the balls of his feet at what he perceived as a tedious, unnecessary exchange of farewells. "Finally," he shouted when Varhog stepped forward to face him. He magnified his voice with magic, since many were too far back to hear what was happening in the clearing between the two armies. "If this ram bests me, he will succeed me as king of the Urgralgra," the king jeered in a mocking tone. Then in his normal terrifying volume he finished, "Let us end this!"
Varhog said, I will tire him as much as possible. I think I'll use your technique on him at the end, but that willbe the end. He will be able to subdue me quickly from there, and it will be so effortless for him that it will reinforce his sense of invincibility. When you jump up, he will think to overcome you just as easily.
This he communicated through his first several dodges, which he made far earlier than needed as he got accustomed to Kulkarvek's enormous size. Though the king was fast, Varhog's smaller size helped him be even quicker, just as Willow was when she faced him. Varhog looked so puny next to Kulkarvek, who towered three feet above him and whose enormous blood-red horns were more than three times larger than Varhog's.
Willow had never been more grateful for the emotionless clarity of her fighting mind. She observed everything about Varhog's maneuvers with detached efficiency, already knowing from Varhog when she would need to dodge the king's lunges.
Kulkarvek was clearly unaccustomed to facing an opponent who could evade him, but Varhog easily continued to do so, which only fueled the king's fury. They danced back and forth for indefinite minutes, Kulkarvek never showing any signs of tiring.
Willow knew how she would reach the king's back, having practiced her technique numerous times with Grintuk and Garzhvog. She guessed Varhog would use the same tactic, but he told her he wouldn't so as not to give Kulkarvek a clue.
Varhog then said, He doesn't appear to be tiring, Eartheyes, but you now know how to dodge him, so I'm going in. Pay close attention. You must know how long to hold on before he dies, which is most likely sometime after consciousness fades. You have never maintained your grip for that long.
He ended his message, crouching down before Kulkarvek's next lunge. The king aimed lower and when Varhog rolled to the side on the ground, the king reached after him. Varhog regained his feet as he completed his roll, springing up to the king's lowered back. His landing didn't come close to knocking Kulkarvek off balance, but the king couldn't reach to pull Varhog off, as was always the case when Willow did the same.
Varhog immediately cinched his arms around Kulkarvek's neck while tucking his legs under him. The king swung his massive head to the side, but Varhog's horn protected his face. Kulkarvek seemed to be feeling the effects of Varhog's powerful arms, and Willow felt a tendril of hope that her mate would triumph. But it was cruelly smothered as the king raised his huge fist and smashed Varhog's front forearm.
Varhog didn't cry out in the agony Willow felt through their mental link, and she tensed in Tarhvek's arms, reaching up to tightly grip them. Varhog couldn't keep the forward arm in place, and it dangled limply over the king's shoulder. But Varhog hung on with his other arm, and Willow sensed that he hoped to weaken the king before she had to face him.
Kulkarvek repeated his attack, crushing Varhog's other arm just as decisively. He couldn't maintain his grip after that, and he slid his feet down to catch himself on the ground, unsteadily backing up without his arms to aid in maintaining his balance.
Willow's breathing sped hysterically, and she strained to see through her blinding tears. There was nothing she could have done to prepare herself to see Varhog die like this. He was going to be brutally murdered by his own grandfather right in front of her eyes. Kulkarvek alone understood the terror she was going through. His own mate had been murdered in an equally cruel and needless way before his very eyes.
The king advanced quickly, and this time Varhog's evasion was too slow. Kulkarvek crushed him to his chest, and Willow screamed for Varhog, who still made no sound as his whole torso buckled under the king's arms.
Willow was aware of Myrintuk's cry of protest from behind her. "Father! No!"
But Kulkarvek was oblivious. He defiantly glared Willow in the eyes as he twisted Varhog's broken body around and turned his attack against him. With one powerful arm around his neck, he held Varhog off the ground and began strangling him. Varhog's chest looked deformed, deep bruises blossoming forth as innumerable injuries bled under his hide.
As she felt Varhog's excruciating pain, Willow began moaning, "No, no, no, no, no," straining now against Tarhvek's arms. But he held her back with implacable strength.
The king was infinitely stronger than Willow, and his effort took such a brief time.
Before he lost consciousness, Varhog weakly thought, I love you, Willow. Fight for our sons. I'm so sor— But then his eyes slid shut as his mind went black.
Now Breetuk gasped in despair and in her state of heightened awareness, Willow felt the stunned disbelief emanating from the Riders. Black Thunder rumbled ominously, though he obediently refrained from interfering, as Varhog had requested.
Though Willow could feel that Varhog wasn't yet dead, it was only a matter of minutes. In that time, she fully understood for the first time why Varhog had to die in order for her to succeed. Though many of her loved ones had passed away, Willow had never witnessed another person's death from this emotionless mental state. If she hadn't been able to feel the nearly imperceptible shift from unconsciousness to lifelessness, she no doubt would have released her grip too early, thereby allowing Kulkarvek opportunity to recover.
Those few minutes dragged by like hours, and Kulkarvek maintained his grip throughout until Willow felt the subtle difference. One moment Varhog was still there though unconscious, and the next he was gone. Willow perceived him no longer, and she gasped in shock as Black Thunder's agonized keen of loss confirmed her deepest fear.
Willow's moans evolved into screams. "No! Let him go! He's already dead!"
The king's malevolent glare had never left her, nor did it now. He shifted Varhog's lifeless body until he held Varhog's horns in either hand. Then Kulkarvek wrenched to one side, instantly snapping Varhog's neck.
Willow heard several of the male Riders' outraged exclamations at this unnecessarily vicious finale, but the triumphant bellows of Kulkarvek's supporters quickly drowned them out as the king carelessly dropped Varhog to the ground, where he crumpled in a mangled heap, and kicked his body toward her.
"You want your mate back?" the king taunted. "Come get him."
Tarhvek finally released Willow, and a desperate sob left her throat as she stumbled forward to collapse by Varhog's body. Using energy from the diamond in her sword to strengthen her, Willow straightened Varhog's twisted form until he was lying on his back, his neck at a horrible angle. She gently grasped his horns, turning his head in a loving manner drastically opposite what the king had just done. Willow couldn't believe that the Urgals who shared Kulkarvek's hatred were celebrating the murder of the greatest person she had ever known, as their continued cheering demonstrated.
"Varhog," she hopelessly muttered. "Varhog." She used magic to heal his broken bones before his body could begin to harden, though it didn't work as it would have with a living body. The bones only roughly fused together, but Willow hoped it would at least make him easier to carry away.
When that work was done, she slumped over his chest, trying to savor the last warmth in his still body. "Varhog," she whispered. "I'm grateful you are no longer in pain."
He had closed his beautiful yellow eyes as he went unconscious, and Willow moved her face up to kiss each eyelid. "Yelloweyes. My beloved friend. Thank you for loving me. You showed it in the most powerful way one can just now. The loss of your life will not be a waste. Goodbye, sweetheart." She kissed his lips—which already felt cold—then stood, unbuckled her sword, and stepped over Varhog to face Kulkarvek.
"Are you prepared to join him, drajl?" the king spat at Willow.
"No, grandfather," Willow said in Urgralish. The king couldn't hide his surprise at her command of his native tongue as Willow continued, "I'm not. But you had best be. Varhog offered his life to save me and our sons. His sacrifice will not be in vain. I challenge you now to a contest of single, hand-to-hand combat. I will triumph and succeed you as queen of the Urgralgra."
Kulkarvek laughed loudly and mockingly. "I am not your grandfather, drajl!" he shouted. "You dare challenge me to a duel of hand-to-hand strength? You dare imply that you will rule the Urgralgra? Such an abomination will never be tolerated, just as your union with this ram never could be. They will never accept you. And you will never defeat me."
"Yes, I will," Willow disagreed. "And in time the Urgralgra will accept me. As Varhog did. As your daughter. As Nar Garzhvog. And as all of these fighting rams behind me. When the vengeful hatred you cling to dies with you, the Urgralgra will be released from decades of needless conflict and war."
"You accuse me of acting out of vengeance?" Kulkarvek screamed. "Are you not now doing the same?"
"Not at all," Willow said. "I'm going to kill you to end your awful tyranny. I do not hate you, grandfather. We are more alike than you will ever have the chance to realize, for you now must die. But that is always the way between enemies. Or between ourselves and the ones we perceive as enemies. We are so much more alike than different, but we focus on those differences to the exclusion of all else and it blinds us to the beautiful similarities."
"Your pain will destroy you!" the king hatefully raged.
"Not unless I let it," Willow replied. "You have allowed your pain to destroy you until you have become your own worst enemy. In brutally murdering my mate right in front of my eyes for no other reason than that you hate me, you have done exactly what Galbatorix did to you."
Kulkarvek seemed convicted by Willow's piercing words as he cast a sorrowful glance toward Myrintuk. But when he returned his eyes to Willow, his gaze once again hardened.
"Is that so?" he sneered. "Well, fine with me. I don't mind playing your little game before I kill you as easily as I did your valiant mate. Why are you dressed in such a fine garment? Did you not know you came to fight?"
"Of course!" Willow replied with a bright smile and sudden lightness that shocked the king. "I wanted to look my best when I became queen of the Urgralgra so I wore the nicest thing I own. It's one of my favorite colors because of how similar it is to my dragon's hue. Announce to your army that I will succeed you when I bring you down and that they will then answer to me."
The king suddenly seemed wary of Willow and her unflinching confidence, but Willow knew that his curse wouldn't allow him to surrender and that he would fight until the bitter end.
In his loudest voice yet Kulkarvek bellowed to his army, "This human woman will succeed me as rightful ruler of and queen over all the Urgralgra if she defeats me in single combat and kills me with her bare hands. When she fails, this battle will begin and none will remain standing save those fighting on my side."
Willow grinned, knowing it would infuriate Kulkarvek. She wished for this to be over. For the first time in her life, she wanted to end someone's life. "Come now, grandfather," she chided. "Are such theatrics really necessary? You might have left off that last bit, for I will now defeat you."
She stepped forward, already in her fighting mind, and prepared to make her move on his first lunge. King Kulkarvek would be the last Urgralgra ram she ever faced and the first and only she ever killed.
The king recklessly lunged, and Willow neatly dodged, grabbing his long white braid and using it to swiftly scale his broad back. Her arms were around his neck before he had even begun to reach around, and she tucked her head down to safety as he began bashing her shoulders with his horns and her arms with his fists. Neither attack harmed her, for her armor protected everywhere it covered, as it was so masterfully designed to do.
Willow's arms were not nearly as strong as Varhog's, but they were stronger than ever before. She tightened her grip as each of Kulkarvek's punches drove her forearms deeper into his neck.
Desperate choking sounds struggled to escape Kulkarvek's chest, but they were trapped by her arms. He dropped to his knees, and Willow sensed him prepare to fall backwards. As he landed on top of her, his horns sank into the ground, preventing him from turning his head or bashing it backward. Willow moved her head to this safe space between the back of his head and the ground.
He crushed her legs when he fell, and then Kulkarvek repeatedly smashed into her, desperate to free himself. Willow whimpered in agony but maintained her grip, for her arms and torso were perfectly fine. She felt her knees and leg bones shatter more with every powerful thrust of his body, but he was weakening.
Willow trained her mind on his consciousness, glad she had waited so long. The king's mind was a tangled, despairing maze of darkness, hate, and insanity, all of which was overshadowed by fear and agony as his life threatened to leave him.
As her perception of his awareness faded, Willow sadly whispered, "I forgive you, grandfather. I'm sorry." The last emotion she felt in the king's mind was profound relief.
Willow maintained her grip far longer, for she knew that Kulkarvek was not yet dead. She waited until she felt the same shift from unconsciousness to lifelessness that she had when Varhog died, and it took much longer than she would have guessed, even longer than it had with Varhog.
But it finally arrived. Kulkarvek was dead.
As she loosened her hold of the king's neck, Willow weakly cried for help. She was pinned under him, her legs completely mutilated. Before she would have thought possible, the king's thousand pound weight left her, and Willow was unprepared to see Grintuk Sr., along with several Urgal rams she didn't recognize, kneeling around her.
Their faces full of relief and gratitude, the rams raised their fists to their foreheads in silent tribute. Grintuk Sr. said, "We thank you, Nar Willow, for releasing us from Kulkarvek's tyranny. You are our queen."
Willow was aware of the profound silence hanging over the Urgal army. Even those who had shared Kulkarvek's hatred now felt compelled to honor her as their queen, according to their former king's command. But many clearly shared Grintuk Sr.'s feelings and were thankful they no longer needed to fear Kulkarvek's wrath.
The Urgal rams stood and withdrew as the Dragon Riders congregated around Willow. Arya and Maehrí performed the next service, which was to begin the arduous, painful task of healing Willow's maimed legs. She guided them with mental imagery of when she had healed Steel's crushed skull. He and Boldclaw made their way over, pressing their wet snouts to her cheeks as they provided energy to the female elves. Willow remained silent and unmoving during the agonizing healing experience, for the numbness of losing Varhog began to set in. Her task was complete. She had slain King Kulkarvek. She was queen of the Urgralgra.