Chapter Thirty-Five: Ajihad
After a long silence, Ajihad sat with a tired sigh. He ran a hand over his face and stared at the ceiling. They waited impatiently for him to speak. When nothing was forthcoming, Eragon blurted, "Is Arya all right?"
Ajihad looked down at them and said gravely, "No… but the healers tell me she will recover. They worked on her all through the night. The poison took a dreadful toll on her. She wouldn't have lived if not for you. For that you have the Varden's deepest thanks."
Eragon's shoulders slumped with relief. "So, what now?" he asked.
"I need you to tell me how you found Saphira, Istalri, and everything that's happened since," said Ajihad, forming a steeple with his fingers. "Some of it I know from the message Brom sent us, other parts from the Twins. But I want to hear it from you, especially the details concerning Brom's death."
"You have no questions for either of us?" Mark asked, setting a hand on Mariah's shoulder.
"No."
"Despite our refusal to have our minds searched?"
"You two, raised by Brom? No. I do not have any need to worry about you. I am content with what information Mariah has already provided. I feel confident that you are both trustworthy and intend us no harm."
"Your generosity is appreciated." Mark said. Mariah could hear the tinge of sarcasm in his voice.
So, together they began their story. Mariah started, since she had found Flayme's egg first, with Brom. Eragon added in his own parts. When their stories diverged, Ajihad patiently listened to both pieces as they came together again.
They talked for hours, often pausing between words. They told Ajihad of Teirm, though Mariah noticed Eragon avoided speaking about Angela's fortunetelling, about how they had found the Ra'zac. She was surprised to listen to him talk about his dreams of Arya. When they arrived at the point where they had reached Gil'ead and mentioned the Shade, Ajihad's face hardened, and he leaned back with veiled eyes.
After a moment, they continued on. When the narrative was complete, Eragon fell silent. Ajihad stood, clasped his hands behind his back, and absently studied one of the bookshelves. After a time he returned to the desk.
"Brom's death is a terrible loss. He was a close friend of mine and a powerful ally of the Varden. I am sorry that you lost him," he said, looking at Mariah and Mark. "He saved us from destruction many times through his bravery and intelligence. Even now, when he is gone, he's provided us with the one thing that can ensure our success – you. With Riders on our side, we can succeed."
"But… what can you expect us to accomplish?" asked Eragon.
"I will explain it in full," said Ajihad, "but there are more urgent matters to be dealt with first." The news of the Urgals' alliance with the Empire is extremely serious. If Galbatorix is gathering an Urgal army to destroy us, the Varden will be hard pressed to survive, even though many of us are protected here in Farthen Dûr. That a Rider, even one as evil as Galbatorix, would consider a pact with such monsters is indeed proof of madness. I shudder to think of what he promised them in return for their fickle loyalty. And then there is the Shade. Can you describe him?"
Eragon nodded. "He was tall, thin, and very pale, with red eyes and hair. He was dressed all in black."
"His voice felt on my ears like an ember would on my skin, searing and burning but never truly catching fire. If he ever was human, I would have thought him a horrible person on sight." Mariah added.
"What of his sword – did you see it?" asked Ajihad intensely.
"More closely than I would have liked," Mariah admitted, nodding.
"Did it have a long scratch on the blade?"
"Yes, how did you know?"
"Because I put it there while trying to cut out his heart," said Ajihad with a grim smile. "His name is Durza – one of the most vicious and cunning fiends to ever stalk this land. He is the perfect servant for Galbatorix and a dangerous enemy for us. You say that you killed him. How was it done?"
Eragon remembered it vividly. "Murtagh shot him twice. The first arrow caught him in the shoulder; the second one struck him between the eyes."
"I was afraid of that," said Ajihad, frowning, "You didn't kill him. Shades can only be destroyed by a thrust through the heart. Anything short of that will cause them to vanish and then reappear elsewhere in spirit form. It's an unpleasant process, but Durza will survive and return stronger than ever."
"I had a feeling," Mark muttered under his breath.
A moody silence settled over them like a foreboding thunderhead. Then Ajihad stated, "You are an enigma, a quandary that no one knows how to solve. Everyone knows what the Varden want – or the Urgals, or even Galbatorix – but no one knows what you want. And that makes you dangerous, especially to Galbatorix. He fears you because he doesn't know what you will do next. And it's worse because there are two of you, and you are clearly companions. It would be one thing for there to be two Riders who had never met before, but having two Riders who have known each other since infancy, well, it causes more trouble for the rest of us."
"Do the Varden fear us?" asked Eragon quietly.
"No," said Ajihad carefully. "We are hopeful. But I that hope proves false, then yes, we will be afraid." Eragon looked down. "You must understand the unusual nature of your position. There are factions who want you to serve their interests and no one else's. The moment you entered Farthen Dûr, their influence and power began tugging on you."
"Including yours?" asked Eragon.
Ajihad chuckled, though his eyes were sharp. "Including mine. There are certain things you should know: first is how Istalri and Saphira's eggs happened to appear in the Spine. Did Brom ever tell you what was done with her egg after he brought it here?"
"No," said Eragon, glancing at Saphira. She blinked and flicked her tongue at him.
"Yes." Mariah blinked, looking up at her brother. He had since turned to the bookshelves, looking over their spines. Now, he turned to glance at Ajihad, avoiding his sister's gaze. "Brom mentioned it once to me."
"Why did he tell you?" Mariah asked.
"He told me lots of things he didn't tell you. You're too young to understand them. Don't complain."
"Mark-"
"I told you, don't complain."
Ajihad tapped his desk, "Well. I will tell you, since the two of you do not know. And I would like to know if my version corresponds with yours."
Mark nodded to him.
"When Brom first brought the egg to the Varden, everyone was deeply interested in its fate. We had thought the dragons were exterminated. The dwarves were solely concerned with making sure that the future Rider would be an ally – though some of them were opposed to having a new Rider at all – while the elves and Varden had a more personal stake in the matter. The reason was simple enough: throughout history all the Riders have been either elven or human, with the majority being elven. There has never been a dwarf Rider."
"-why do you keep saying Rider instead of Riders?" Mariah asked.
"Oh, simply because Saphira's egg was the one brought to us. Istalri's was hidden away, now I believe by the elves. I'm sure they wanted security of their own. I had not known of the existence of a second dragon egg much before now. It was only in Brom's letter that I discovered it."
Mariah blinked, trying to process the information as he continued.
"Because of Galbatorix's betrayals, the elves were reluctant to let any of the Varden handle the egg for fear that the dragon inside would hatch for a human with similar instabilities. It was a challenging situation, as both sides wanted the Rider for their own. The dwarves only aggravated the problem by arguing obstinately with both the elves and us whenever they had the chance. Tensions escalated, and before long, threats were made that were later regretted. It was then that Brom suggested a compromise that allowed all sides to save face.
"He proposed that the egg be ferried between the Varden and the elves every year. At each place children would parade past it, and the bearers of the egg would wait to see if the dragon would hatch. If it didn't, they would leave and return to the other group. But if the dragon did hatch, the new Rider's training would be undertaken immediately. For the first year or so he or she would be instructed here, by Brom. Then the Rider would be taken to the elves, who would finish their education.
"The elves reluctantly accepted this plan… with the stipulation that if Brom were to die before the dragon hatched, they would be free to train the new Rider without interference. The agreement was slanted in their favor – we both knew that the dragon would likely choose and elf – but it provided a desperately needed semblance of equality. Now however, since I know of Istalri, I realize how truly set they were upon keeping the new Riders to themselves."
He's calling you that because you are the elves' dragon.
He speaks my name in Elvish because he believes us to be allied with them?
I don't know why he would think that… I am of blood relation to Brom and am human…
Let him do as he wishes, I want to hear more. Do not interrupt the man.
Ajihad paused, his rich eyes somber. Shadows bit into his face under his cheekbones, making them jut out. "It was hoped that this new Rider would bring our two races closer together. We waited for well over a decade, but the egg never hatched. The matter passed from our minds, and we rarely thought about it except to lament the egg's inactivity.
"Then last year we suffered a terrible loss. Arya and the egg disappeared on her return from Tronjheim to the elven city Osilon. The elves were the first to discover she was missing. They found her steed and guards slain in Du Weldenvarden and a group of slaughtered Urgals nearby. But neither Arya nor the egg was there. When this news reached me, I feared that Urgals had both of them and would soon learn the location of Farthen Dûr and the elves' capital, Ellesméra, where their queen, Islanzadí, lives. Now I understand they were working for the Empire, which is far worse.
"We won't know exactly what occurred during the attack until Arya wakes, but I have deduced a few details from what you've said." Ajihad's vest rustled as he leaned his elbows on the desk. "The attack must have been swift and decisive, else Arya would have escaped. Without any warning, and deprived of a place to hide, she could have done only one thing – used magic to transport the eggs elsewhere. She must have been carrying them both with her, because it is unlikely that both would end up in the same place at the same time otherwise. Perhaps Islanzadí thought it time for us to know about the second."
"She can use magic?" asked Eragon.
Mariah glanced over at him, "…you didn't assume she could – she's an elf?"
"She mentioned that she had been given a drug to suppress her power, but I didn't want to assume…"
"It was one of the reasons why she was chosen to guard the egg. Anyway, Arya couldn't have sent them to us – she was too far away – and the elves' realm is warded by arcane barriers that prevent anything from entering their borders through magical means. She must have thought of Brom and, in desperation, sent the egg toward Carvahall. Without time to prepare, I'm not surprised she missed by the margin she did. The Twins tell me it is an imprecise art."
"I'm amazed her aim was so accurate," Mark told him. "The type of magic she was using is extremely powerful. And if she had never stepped foot in Palancar Valley, her mind would not have known where to place the eggs precisely. The mere fact she survived such a spell makes me think very highly of her."
The man looked at Mark, "So you can use magic as well. And very successfully from the sounds of it."
"Oh, was that fact not mentioned before? My apologies. Yes. I am very skilled with magic Ajihad. But you have nothing to worry about from me, I'm only here for my sister."
Eragon started slowly, "Why… was she closer to Palancar Valley than the Varden? Where do the elves really live? Where is this… Ellesméra?"
Ajihad's keen gaze bored into Eragon as he considered the question. "Then you don't know?
"I know already anyway, it's not like it's going to matter if you tell us now."
He blinked up at Mark, "Is there much you don't know?"
"Afraid not. Brom has made well sure that I know what to do in any situation."
"I see… well, Eragon then, I don't tell you this lightly, for the elves guard the knowledge jealously. But you should know, and I do this as a display of trust. Their cities lie far to the north, in the deepest reaches of the endless forest Du Weldenvarden. Not since the Riders' time has anyone, dwarf or human, been elf-friend enough to walk in their leafy halls. I do not even know how to find Ellesméra." He looked at Mark, expecting him to say something. Mark simply shook his head and he continued, "As for Osilon… based on where Arya disappeared, I suspect it near Du Weldenvarden's western edge, toward Carvahall. You must have many other questions, but bear with me and keep them until I have finished."
Mark?
Later Mariah, listen now.
Ajihad gathered his memories, then spoke at a quickened pace. "When Arya disappeared, the elves withdrew their support from the Varden. Queen Islanzadí was especially enraged and refused any further contact with us. As a result, even though I received Brom's message, the elves are still ignorant of you and your dragons… Without their supplies to sustain my troops, we have fared badly these past months in skirmishes with the Empire.
"With Arya's return and your arrival, I expect the queen's hostility will abate. The fact that you rescued Arya will greatly help our case with her. Your training, however, is going to present a problem for both Varden and elves. Brom obviously had a chance to teach you, but we need to know how thorough he was. For that reason, you'll have to be tested to determine the extent of your abilities. Also, the elves will expect you to finish your training with them, though I'm not sure if there's time for that."
"Why not?" asked Eragon.
"For several reasons. Chief among them, the tidings you brought about the Urgals," said Ajihad, his eyes straying to Saphira. "You see, the Varden are in an extremely delicate position. On one hand, we have to comply with the elves' wishes if we want to keep them as allies. At the same time, we cannot anger the dwarves if we wish to lodge in Tronjheim."
"Aren't the dwarves part of the Varden?" asked Eragon.
Ajihad hesitated. "In a sense, yes. They allow us to live here and provide assistance in our struggle against the Empire, but they are loyal only to their king. I have no power over them except for what Hrothgar gives me, and even he often has trouble with the dwarf clans. The thirteen clans are subservient to Hrothgar, but each clan chief wields enormous power; they choose the new dwarf king when the old one dies. Hrothgar is sympathetic to our cause, but many of the chiefs aren't. He can't afford to anger them unnecessarily or he'll lose the support of his people, so his actions on our behalf have been severely circumscribed."
"These clan chiefs," said Eragon, "are they against us as well?"
Even more so, I'm afraid," said Ajihad wearily. "There has long been enmity between dwarves and dragons – before the elves came and made peace, dragons made a regular habit of eating the dwarves' flocks and stealing their gold – and the dwarves are slow to forget past wrongs. Indeed, they never fully accepted the Riders or allowed them to police their kingdom. Galbatorix's rise to power has only served to convince many of them that it would be better never to deal with Riders or dragons ever again." He directed his last words as Saphira and Flayme.
Eragon said slowly, "Why doesn't Galbatorix know where Farthen Dûr and Ellesméra are? Surely he was told of them when he was instructed by the Riders."
"Told of them, yes – shown where they are, no. It's one thing to know that Farthen Dûr lies within these mountains, quite another to find it. Galbatorix hadn't been taken to either place before his dragon was killed. After that, of course, the Riders didn't trust him. He tried to force the information out of several Riders during his rebellion, but they chose to die rather than reveal it to him. As for the dwarves, he's never managed to capture one alive, though it's only a matter of time."
"Then why doesn't he just take an army and march through Du Weldenvarden until he finds Ellesméra?"
"Because the elves still have enough power to resist him," said Ajihad. "He doesn't dare test his strength against theirs, at least not yet. But his cursed sorcery grows stronger each year. With another Rider at his side, he would be unstoppable. He keeps trying to get one of his two eggs to hatch, but so far he's been unsuccessful."
"Wait, how can his power be increasing? The strength of his body limits his abilities – it can't build itself up forever." Mariah leaned forward, confused.
"We don't know," Ajihad told her, shrugging his broad shoulders, "and neither do the elves. We can only hope that someday he will be destroyed by one of his own spells." He reached inside his vest and somberly pulled out a battered piece of parchment. "Do you know what this is?" he asked, placing it on the desk.
Eragon bent forward alongside Mariah an examined it. Lines of black script, written in an alien language, were inked across the page. Large sections of the writing had been destroyed by blots of blood. One edge of the parchment was charred. "No… I don't." Eragon said.
"May I?" Mark asked, stepping forward. Ajihad nodded and he looked over the paper, narrowing his eyes and pulling his head away to focus the words, he squinted more. "Where did you get this?" He asked. Mariah could tell he was buying his time, trying to decipher the lettering.
"It was taken from the leader of the Urgal host we destroyed last night. It cost us twelve men to do so – they sacrificed themselves so that you might escape safely. The writing it the king's invention, a script he uses to communicate with his servants. It took me a while, but I was able to devise its meaning, at least where it's legible. It reads:
…gatekeeper at Ithrö Zhâda is to let this bearer and his minions
pass. They are to be bunked with the others of their kind and by…
…but only if the two factions refrain from fighting. Command will
Be given under Tarok, under Gashz, under Durza, under Ushnark the Mighty.
"Ushnark is Galbatorix. It means 'father' in the Urgal tongue, an affectation that pleases him.
Find what they are suitable for and… The footmen and…
Are to be kept separate. No weapons are to be distributed until… for marching.
"Nothing else can be read past there, except for a few vague words," said Ajihad.
"Where's Ithrö Zhâda? I've never heard of it." Eragon asked.
"Rebel Doom…" Mark looked up from the paper, "Is the Urgal translation. They must be using that to name and existing place for their own purposes. So no one else knows what they mean."
"Precisely," said Ajihad. "After deciphering this, I asked myself what hundreds of Urgals were doing by the Beor Mountains where you first saw them and where they were going. The parchment mentions, 'others of their kind', so I assume there are even more Urgals at their destination. There's only one reason for the king to gather such a force – to forge a bastard army of humans and monsters to destroy us.
"For now, there is nothing to do but wait and watch. Without further information we cannot find this Ithrö Zhâda. Still, Farthen Dûr has not yet been discovered, so there is hope. The only Urgals to have seen it died last night."
"How did you know we were coming?" asked Eragon. "One of the Twins was waiting for us, and there was an ambush in place for the Kull.
"We have sentinels placed at the entrance of the valley you traveled through - on either side of the Beartooth River. They sent a dove to warn us," explained Ajihad.
"When the eggs and Arya disappeared, did you tell Brom? He said that he hadn't heard anything from the Varden."
"We tried to alert him," said Ajihad, "but I suspect our men were intercepted and killed my the Empire. Why else would the Ra'zac have gone to Carvahall? After that, Brom was traveling with you, and it was impossible to get word to him. I was relieved when he contacted me via messenger from Teirm. It didn't surprise me that he went to Jeod; they were old friends. And Jeod could easily send us a message because he smuggles supplies to us through Surda.
"All of this has raised serious questions. How did the Empire know where to ambush Arya and, later, our messengers to Carvahall? How has Galbatorix learned which merchants help the Varden? Jeod's business has been virtually destroyed since you left him, as have those of other merchants who support us. Every time one of their ships set sail, it disappears. The dwarves cannot give us everything we need, so the Varden are in desperate need of supplies. I'm afraid that we have a traitor, or traitors, in our midst, despite our efforts to examine people's minds for deceit."
Mark shifted away from the desk again and returned to his browsing through the bookshelves. Mariah glanced at him and sat patiently, waiting for someone to speak. It had been a long time since she didn't have any questions. Nearly everything she had been wondering about was being answered, however it lead to new ones popping into her mind. Most of all, about Mark.
"What do you want from us?" Eragon asked.
Mariah flicked her gaze back to Ajihad.
"How do you mean?"
"I mean, what is expected of us in Tronjheim? You and the elves have plans for us, but what if I don't like them?" Mariah could hear his voice tense, a tiny hint of anger slipping in. "I'll fight when needed, revel when there's occasion, mourn when there is grief, and die if my time comes… but I don't let anyone use me against my will." He paused to let the words sink in. "The Riders of old were arbiters of justice above and beyond the leaders of their time. I don't claim that position – I doubt people would accept such oversight when they've been free of it all their lives, especially from one as young as me. But I do have power, and I will wield it as I see fit. What I want to know is how you plan to use me. Then I will decide whether to agree to it."
Ajihad looked at him wryly. "If you were anyone else and were before another leader, you would likely have been killed for that insolent speech. What makes you think I will expose my plans just because you demand it?" Eragon's face flushed but he did not lower his gaze.
"Because if you don't, we leave." Mark told him flatly, not bothering to turn and face him. "Eragon's a bit of a fool when he opens his mouth, but he means well and despite his brazen approach, he's right. If you don't tell us exactly what you're planning to do with us, we can choose not to fight with you."
"I don't believe you're a Rider, so why would your words influence me?"
"I'm not a Rider, nor did I ever say I was. I am, however, Brom's grandson, with whom he trusted valuable information. So, I believe it a fair exchange. You tell us your plans and I'll stick around and possibly let you know a few things."
Ajihad shook his head, "And you said Eragon's approach was brazen? Your words are more biting than his."
"I'm afraid he's always like that," Mariah told him simply, glaring at Mark, who expertly ignored her looks.
Ajihad looked back at Eragon. "You are right. Your position gives you the privilege to say such things. You cannot escape the politics of your situation – you will be influenced, one way or another. I don't want to see you become a pawn of any one group or purpose and more than you do. You must retain your freedom, for in it lays your true power: the ability to make choices independent of any leader or king. My own authority over you will be limited-"
"To zero," Mark muttered under his breath.
"-but I believe it's for the best. The difficulty lies in making sure that those with power include you in their deliberations. Also, despite your protests, the people here have certain expectations of you. They are going to bring you their problems, no matter how petty, and demand that you solve them." Ajihad leaned forward, his voice deadly serious. "There will be cases where someone's future will rest in your hands… with a word you can send them careening into happiness or misery. Young women will seek your opinion on whom they should marry. Many will pursue you as a husband, Eragon. And many men for you as their wife, Mariah… although it appears they'll have to go through your brother first." He glanced up at Mark who had fixed Ajihad with a death glare. "Old men will ask which of their children should receive an inheritance. You must be kind and wise with them all, for they put their trust in you. Don't speak flippantly or without thought, because your words will have impact far beyond what you intend."
Ajihad leaned back, his eyes hooded. "The burden of leadership is being responsible for the well-being of the people in your charge, Eragon. I have dealt with it from the day I was chosen to head the Varden, and now you must as well. Be careful. I won't tolerate injustice under my command. Don't worry about your youth and inexperience; they will pass soon enough."
"But you still haven't said what we're to do here." Eragon pointed out slowly.
"For now, nothing. You covered over a hundred and thirty leagues in eight days, a feat to be proud of. I'm sure that you'll appreciate rest. When you've recovered, we will test your competency in arms and magic. After that – well, I will explain your options, and then you'll have to decide your course. Mariah, I would think it best you rest as well, and then we shall talk of what you should do."
Her face started burning. "What do you mean?"
"I mean you should rest and try to figure out if you would like to practice healing magic with those who reside here in Farthen Dûr."
"Though I do need practice with healing magic, I don't believe anyone here can help me learn more than what knowledge I already have. It seem you're trying to avoid me leading… fighting… all together, want me to stay out of the way. You directed all of your previous comments toward Eragon, not me."
"You are young yet and I don't believe you are competent enough to take on such strenuous responsibilities." Ajihad told her.
Her gaze flicked to Mark who was watching her out of the corner of his eye. He flipped a page in the book he was skimming, clearly ignoring her looks.
"I am not a frail child to be coddled and protected. I turn sixteen before the end of summer and I can fight."
"Though you may be capable of wielding a sword, it does not mean you are competent with one. Eragon have you any more questions?"
"What about Murtagh?" asked Eragon bitingly. Mariah's face burned hotter as she was ignored and had to bite her tongue to avoid any yelling.
Relax darling… finish this conversation completely before you complain. It would not be wise to anger him before we know all the information he holds… Flayme said, his tail flicking.
Ajihad's face darkened. He reached beneath his desk and lifted up Zar'roc. The sword's polished sheath gleamed in the light. Ajihad slid his hand over it, lingering on the etched sigil. "He will stay here until he allows the Twins into his mind."
"You can't imprison him," argued Eragon. "He's committed no crime!" Mariah reached over and set her hand on his arm, trying to convince him to calm back down. It wouldn't do any good.
"We can't give him his freedom without being sure that he won't turn against us. Innocent or not, he's potentially as dangerous to us as his father was," said Ajihad with a hint of sadness.
"He's not a Rider," Mariah said, looking at him. "He's not his father."
"How were you able to recognize his voice?" Eragon asked.
"I met his father once," said Ajihad shortly. He tapped Zar'roc's hilt. "I wish Brom had told me he had taken Morzan's sword. I suggest that you don't carry it within Farthen Dûr. Many here remember Morzan's time with hate, especially the dwarves."
"I'll remember that," promised Eragon.
Ajihad handed Zar'roc to him. "That reminds me, I have Brom's ring, which he sent as confirmation of his identity. I was keeping it for when he returned to Tronjheim. Now that he's dead, I suppose it belongs to you." Mariah watched him open a desk drawer and take the ring from it. He set it down on the top of the walnut desk gently. The symbol cut into the face of the sapphire was identical to the tattoo on Arya's shoulder.
"Eragon. Take it." Mark said.
"It should go to you Mark," he said, looking up at him, surprised.
"It matches Saphira… besides I already have one." He said, flashing the gold ring around his finger, inset with emeralds. Brom had given it to him when he was starting to learn magic, teaching him how to store power in it for when he would need it most.
"Mariah." She looked at Eragon. "You've more claim to it than me… I know Mark said-"
"He's right, take it. I want you to have it."
Hesitantly, he took it and slipped the ring onto his index finger, admiring how it caught the light. "I… I am honored."
"It wouldn't fit on my hand anyway," she said, smiling.
He nodded back at her, his lips twitching upward slightly.
Ajihad pushed back his chair and stood. He faced Saphira and Flayme and spoke to them, his voice swelling with power. "Do not think that I have forgotten you, O mighty dragons. I have said these things as much for your benefit as for your Riders'. It is even more important that you know them, for to you falls the task of guarding them in these dangerous times. Do not underestimate your might, nor falter at their side, because without you, they will surely fail."
Flayme snorted, shifting his tail and lifting his head up to look at the man. Saphira lowered her head until their eyes were level and stared at him through slitted black pupils. Ajihad was the first to move. He lowered his eyes and said softly, "It is indeed a privilege to meet you."
Saphira swung her head around to face Eragon. He opened his mouth and then hesitated. Mariah glanced at Flayme, noticing him watching the boy expectantly. "Saphira wants me to tell you that she is impressed both with Tronjheim and with you. The Empire is right to fear you… however, if you had decided to kill me, she would have destroyed Tronjheim and torn you apart with her teeth."
Flayme twisted his head back to Ajihad, blowing smoke at him, filling the room for a moment.
"I take it Istalri agrees…"
"Yes." Mariah nodded.
Ajihad said, "I would expect nothing less from one so noble – but I doubt you could have gotten past the Twins."
"Then they must be much stronger than they appear. I think they would be sorely dismayed if they ever faced a dragon's wrath. The two of them might be able to defeat me, but never Saphira." Eragon said.
"A Rider's dragon strengthens our magic beyond what a normal magician might have. Brom was always weaker than us because of that. I think that in the absence of Riders, the Twins have overestimated their power…" Mariah said, "In our opinion."
Ajihad looked troubled. "Brom was considered one of our strongest spell weavers. Only the elves surpassed him. If what you say is true, we will have to reconsider a great many things." He bowed to the dragons. "As it is, I am glad it wasn't necessary to harm either of you." Saphira dipped her head in return. Flayme flicked his tail, holding his gaze on the man.
Ajihad straightened with a lordly air and called, "Orik!" The dwarf hurried into the room and stood before the desk, crossing his arms. Ajihad frowned at him, irritated. "You've caused me a great deal of trouble, Orik. I've had to listen to one of the Twins complain all morning about your insubordination. They won't let it rest until you are punished. Unfortunately they're right. It's a serious matter that cannot be ignored. An accounting it due."
Orik's eyes flicked toward Eragon, but his face betrayed no emotion. He spoke quickly in rough tones. "The Kull were almost around Kóstha-mérna. They were shooting arrows at the dragons, their Riders and the man, but the Twins did nothing to stop it. Like… sheilven, they refused to open the gates even though we could see Mariah and Eragon shouting the opening phrase on the other side of the waterfall. And they refused to take action when Eragon and Mariah did not rise from the water. Perhaps I did wrong, but I couldn't let the Riders die."
"We would have drowned if he hadn't pulled us out of the water… we weren't strong enough to surface." Mariah said to Ajihad.
He glanced at her, then asked Orik seriously, "And later, why did you oppose them?"
Orik raised his chin defiantly. "It wasn't right for them to force their way into Murtagh's mind. But I wouldn't have stopped them if I'd known who he was."
"No, you did the right thing, though it would be simpler if you hadn't. It isn't our place to force our way into people's minds, no matter who they are." Ajihad fingered his dense beard. "Your actions were honorable, but you did defy a direct order from your commander. The penalty for that has always been death." Orik's back stiffened.
"You can't kill him for that! He was only helping us," cried Eragon.
Mariah grabbed his arm again, standing next to him, swallowing her own outrage. "He saved our lives… we would have died outside the gates and then you would have no Riders here with you now."
"It isn't your place to interfere," said Ajihad sternly. "Orik broke the law and must suffer the consequences." Eragon started to argue again, but Ajihad stopped him with a raised hand. "But you are right. The sentence will be mitigated because of the circumstances. As of now, Orik, you are removed from active service and forbidden to engage in any military activities under my command. Do you understand?"
Orik's face darkened, but then he only looked confused. He nodded sharply. "Yes."
"Furthermore, in the absence of your regular duties, I appoint you the Rider's guide for the duration of their stay. You are to make sure they receive every comfort and amenity we have to offer. Saphira and Istalri will stay above Isidar Mithrim. Eragon, Mariah and Mark may have quarters wherever they want. When they recover from their trip, take them to the training fields. They're expecting them," said Ajihad, a twinkle of amusement in his eye.
Orik bowed low. "I understand."
"Very well, you all may go. Send in the Twins as you leave."
Mark pushed off the wall, heading for the door. Mariah sighed as Eragon bowed. She turned to leave with him, and then he stopped to asked, "Where can I find Arya? I would like to see her."
"No one is allowed to visit her. You will have to wait until she comes to you." Ajihad looked down at his desk in a clear dismissal.
More explaining. Ajihad can talk anyone's ear off...
I'm sorry it's taken me so long to update, yet again. I'm working on lots of school projects right now and barely have time to write.
The next few chapters will be much more of my own writing, I think this was the last of the major explanatory plot points. At least for a while.
With Love, As Always,
Mariah