Chapter 25
As promised, Islanzadi held a dinner in their honor that night. During the celebration, she formally presented Oromis's gold sword to Eragon.
He accepted it grimly, thanking her. But for the rest of the night, he stayed clear of the festivities, lurking in the shadows and avoiding conversation.
Nasuada left him to his thoughts. She and Barzul participated in the meal and listened to the beautiful songs. Never in her life had Nasuada been one for music, but the elven voices had her entranced. The music was so captivating she could not turn away.
Many Elves performed for the party, each bringing forth a song even more enchanting than the last. Half of the night was spent with dancing and singing and poem reciting.
The next morning, Nasuada's head was buzzing with music. It took a good while for Barzul to wake her fully.
Nasuada, he said, Saphira and Eragon are getting ready to leave. We must prepare!
She reluctantly climbed out of bed and yawned. How much sleep did we get?
Enough.
Gee, that's specific. She pulled on a pair of breeches and a tunic and brushed out her coarse hair. Once it was in a tight bun, she shoved her belongings into a sack and stood. What am I missing?
My saddle; remember? Barzul walked across the cabin and nudged the leather seat with his nose.
She sighed. It's not like you'll be able to fly with me.
No, but it will be useful during battle. I will not have you riding a horse!
Nasuada gave in, securing the saddle and strapping her bag to it. There! She stood back to observe her work. The saddle was a little large for Barzul, but it worked fine.
He spread his wings out to test his flexibility. His wingspan was almost too big for the cabin. I think it will do.
Great, let's get outside.
Bazul struggled in fitting through the narrow doorway, but managed to exit the cabin successfully.
Nasuada followed him out and climbed in the saddle. They made their way to the large tree in which Eragon was housed.
She looked up, not wanting to climb all the way up the tree to his apartment. But she was not forced to do so; for Saphira emerged from the opening in the tree and glided down to them, Eragon on her back.
"All ready?" Nasuada asked.
"Yes," Eragon said. "We'll be a little slow going since Barzul cannot ride in your satchel any longer, but it won't take too long. The journey will strengthen him."
Saphira bent low and entered Nasuada's mind. Climb up. We're traveling all together once more!
Nasuada obeyed, smiling as she hoisted herself in the saddle behind Eragon. With her legs secured tightly, she put her arms in their familiar place around Eragon's waist and braced herself for the takeoff.
Saphira soared into the air, slowing to a very relaxed speed so Barzul could keep up. The silver dragon had to flap his wings twice as often to maintain the same speed.
They took many breaks that day. Barzul never once complained, but the others knew he was tiring. All in all, they covered half the distance Saphira could have flown by herself.
The following day did not prove very promising. Barzul's muscles were sore from the previous day's activities, and he was not accustomed to long distance flights.
On the third morning, they reached the desert. The silver dragon's biggest complain then was that the dust was dirtying his scales.
By the fifth day of travel, Barzul Knurlar had recovered from his aches and began to show improvement. Eragon, Nasuada, and Saphira tried to encourage him as much as possible, but they were still aware of the importance of the journey. If they missed the battle, all would be lost.
Arya burst out of Jormundor's office, fuming.
Vanir, who had been loitering around and waiting for the meeting to be over, strode to her side. "What is it?"
"Galbatorix's army will be here in four days I judge. Witnesses say there is a red dragon in the company, along with a Shade," she said, walking to a window in the stone wall and gazing out at the city. People crowded the streets, oblivious to the danger that approached them at record speed.
"Well... are you really surprised?" He asked.
"No. What frustrates me is that Jormundor has not notified the people." She sighed and leaned against the wall.
Vanir sighed. "You have to understand why he cannot tell them."
"Yes, I know. It is the only way. If he notified the people, that would alert the spies Galbatorix is sure to have planted among them. We must act swiftly and at the last moment. He has already notified our most trusted generals. They are ready to give the command and gather their troops at last minute. Everything is how it must be done. My only regret is that we have no other choice. This plan is very risky."
"If there is no other way, do not lament over it." Vanir touched her arm.
Arya studied her boots. "I just… there has always been hope; but has there ever been a chance of victory? This question has been boring itself into the back of my mind since Faolin…" she looked around the room, not finishing the sentence and gazing at anything but him. "I pride myself in being strong and firm—showing no weaknesses. But that doesn't mean I have no regrets… no moments of despair…"
He touched her cheek. "Look at me, Arya." She did, but reluctantly. "To show emotion is not a weakness. It proves we are not like Galbatorix; we have our sanity and we not only can practice logic, but we can feel the consequences of thinking logically. Do not hide that difference between us and him."
She nodded mutely, her emerald green eyes glistening in the candle light. Slowly, almost as if in a dream, the liquid gathered in her eye and a single tear rolled down her cheek, leaving a trail behind.
Vanir brushed the tear away and cupped Arya's face in his hands. He, Vanir of Ellesmera, had witnessed the elf princess show emotion besides anger. For the first time, she had opened up to him. Before he could think about it, Vanir leaned forward and pressed his lips against hers. It wasn't even an intentional move; he just found himself kissing her.
Arya stiffened for only a second before relaxing. Her hands found their way up his chest and she wrapped her arms around his neck.
He reached out to her mind, not wanting to interrupt the kiss for speech. I expected you to slap me across the face for this one, you know.
A flicker of amusement crossed her mind. That was my initial plan, but I like this one better. For once, Arya did not block him. Rather, she embraced his presence.
We're getting close, Saphira commented, gliding over the grasslands.
Should we allow Barzul to be seen? I don't like the idea of announcing our arrival so spectacularly as to introduce another dragon to the public. He glanced back at Barzul, who was keeping pace rather nicely.
No, Saphira said, the people need not see him. If they see him, Galbatorix will hear of it. As of now, he will be surprised when another Rider shows up in Dras Leona. Let us keep it that way.
Then we'll wait until dark to enter the city, Eragon concluded. Land when we can see Aberon on the horizon.
It was only an hour before the dull outline of buildings became sillouetted against the sunset.
Saphira explained the situation to Barzul and they landed, each stretching their wings from the flight.
Eragon leapt from the saddle and helped Nasuada down. "It won't be long before dark. This will be a short break."
She rubbed the kink in her neck. "I hope we don't rush off to battle too soon. I could use a hot bath and a night's rest."
He smiled faintly.
Darkness fell over the foothills and they prepared for another takeoff. In minutes, they landed in the palace courtyard.
A messenger quickly arrived and led them to Jormundor's office.
Eragon came through the door and bowed his head to the Leader. "Jormundor," he murmured in greeting.
Nasuada did not offer such a humble greeting. Instead, she strode to the chair across from Jormundor and said, "I heard you've been busy."
"Yes. And if I'm correct in guessing, you have been busy too."
"I have, thank you. Eragon tells me we are to invade Dras Leona. Is this true?"
"It is."
"When do we leave?"
"Tomorrow evening if all goes as planned. We will evacuate the city and gather our army with as much speed as possible. Dras Leona will hardly have any defenses left after Galbatorix recruited his army. I expect you here in the morning. You may rest until then."
Nasuada appeared uncomfortable with Jormundor's position of authority. Only months before, she was above him in rank. Things had changed.
"Will you allow me to speak to Rider Eragon in private?" he asked curtly.
"Yes, My Lord," she said, leaving without a second glance toward Eragon.
"What is this about?" Eragon demanded the moment she shut the door. "There is nothing you cannot say in front of her. We both know she is trustworthy."
"I just wanted to hear from an experienced magic wielder just how much Nasuada is capable of now. You have seen what she can do, no?"
"I have an idea, yes. She practices faithfully every night and speaks to me in the ancient language."
"Just how strong is she compared to you?" Jormundor leaned forward in his chair. "I want to know just how much faith I should put in her abilities. A simple overestimation can be fatal for the Varden."
Eragon approved of his inquiry. "With the sword, she is equal with the average trained swordsman. With magic, she is slightly less skilled than I. Her dragon, Barzul Knurlar, is strong in endurance, but he is small. He cannot yet carry her in flight. In short, she will be a help in the battle, but it will not be easy."
Jormundor nodded silently. "Thank you for being honest with me, Shadeslayer. I will consider your comments while planning the battle. You may rest now, if it pleases you."
Eragon bowed, grateful. His clothes were covered with filth from the journey.