Chapter 30

The next day...

Blödhgarm came to visit the next morning. Alice was in the healing tents, giving advice to her staff and seeing her patients, many of whom were grateful to her for stopping the laughing dead.

News of her role in ending the spell that almost lost them the battle had spread quickly. As she made her way around the tents, the men seemed excited, some even reverent, reaching out towards her. She smiled and accepted their thanks with grace, but couldn't help feeling uncomfortable. She tried to remember Blödhgarm's words from the night before - whatever the circumstances, she had made a massive difference in the outcome of the battle. It wasn't strange that the rumours of her reckless dash to the frontlines had spread far and wide. Suddenly everyone knew her name, and the young soldiers especially got tongue-tied in her presence. Alice had already heard several versions of a new title the people had started giving her - just like Eragon was 'Shadeslayer'. She hoped that whatever stuck wasn't too embarrassing.

Her smile had faltered slightly when she heard one grizzled old veteran say, as she approached, "There! The Lady Alice: Bane of the Dead!" to rousing cheers from his fellows. She knew he was referring to her victory over the ensorcelled enemy soldiers - everyone was calling them the laughing dead - but it sent a chill down her spine anyway. Her little necromancy experiment had to remain a secret... she dreaded thinking what might happen if their enemies found out a way to cheat death.

Her strength was returning quickly, but her magical reserves were still very low, and she couldn't do more than give instructions to the other healers on how to do the complex spells, and inspect what they had already done. As she went, she jotted down facts and figures, trying to build a coherent picture of the state of the army. Most of the morning she spent moving from chair to chair as she observed and advised her staff.

She was frustrated - the work would be quicker if she could do it herself - and the healing tents were full well beyond their capacity. If the empire attacked again, they would have a hard time rallying the men they had left. The healers had been overstretched and leaderless after the battle, and it took a good hour for her to restore some semblance of order so that she could methodically check over the hundreds of men who desperately required attention. Angela was absent, most likely brewing up the poultices and potions that the men would soon need to stave off infections... well, Alice hoped that that was what she was doing.

Blödhgarm arrived just before midday, and seemed annoyed to see her exhausting herself in the healing tents so soon after her ordeal. But when he realised that she was determined to stay, he lent her as much magical power as he dared, pouring it directly into the empty crystal that still hung around her neck.

"Blödhgarm, why-" she'd said in surprise, fingering the crystal, "I mean, thank you, but... this is a lot of power. Don't you need it to defend Eragon?"

He shrugged easily and avoided the question. She didn't need to know just yet that he'd been removed from his duties... she had enough on her mind. "I am more than capable of lending such a trivial amount of magic." He'd said loftily instead, causing her to roll her eyes at his arrogant tone.

He's truly a powerful spellcaster, she thought enviously. Her own magical reserves when she was fully rested were easily one third of the energy he'd given her without any sign of strain.

After that, Alice kept expecting him to leave, but he seemed content to follow her around, even though the tenseness of his shoulders and his general bearing told her he wasn't enjoying the squalor. Men were bleeding and sweating and dying on every surface, their voices blending into a chaotic mix. The smell of infection and unwashed, feverish bodies could make the strongest stomach turn - she wondered how his finely-tuned elvish senses were holding up. For the most part, he bore all of it with an impassive mask, but once, when he thought she wasn't looking, his disgust showed, and Alice had an absurd urge to laugh: he looked just like a cat smelling something nasty.

She was unsure of how to deal with him - any other spellcaster she would have had no qualms ordering around. There was so much to be done in the aftermath of a battle... but he was no ordinary magician. The soldiers would not have wanted elves to heal them, and she doubted Blödhgarm could be persuaded to deal with "the stinking rabble", as he disparagingly called them. As it was, his indirect help sped up her rounds, and she no longer felt like falling over every time she rose from a bedside chair.

All things considered, it went quite well, except for a couple of problems. Once, she extended her consciousness out to a man who was missing a forearm and was suffering from blood poisoning, and struggled in vain to find the right wording to drive the infection back. Her head was thick with spells and scraps of knowledge, and she found it hard to concentrate. She closed her eyes and placed her fingers over the man's upper arm, striving to ground herself and get back into the calm, meditative state that was crucial for doing magic. The tents felt loud and suffocating, the heat and noise pressing in on her. Suddenly a mind touched hers lightly, sending a strange sensation flooding into her, like the soft green-blue of a deep sea, the minty smell of pine needles, and underneath it all, a wild and haunting strain of music...

Alice. Focus. He said, his mind-speak voice, slightly deeper and richer than his actual voice, cutting easily above the cacophony. Together, they found the right words and Alice chanted it softly, ensuring the injured man was infection-free. While she was busy, a breeze swept through the tent, bringing in clear, cool air from some place high above the camp that did not contain the smell of campfires or people. She said nothing about his help, but didn't hesitate the next time she was struggling to remember a complex spell to ask for his opinion - he had a vast knowledge of healing spells, many of them intricate, no doubt as a result of altering his appearance magically every so often.

After she'd walked the length and breadth of all four large healing tents, she departed for the dwarvish and Urgal encampments on the outskirts, Blödhgarm in tow. Both races preferred to take care of their own after the battle, but she was still responsible for the entire Varden, and took her post seriously.

To Blödhgarm's surprise, Alice was greeted warmly by the dwarves and the Urgals. The dwarves he understood - she had stayed for a few years in Farthen Dur, and knew many of them by name. The Urgals, on the other hand... she surprised him by receiving a warm reception by several prominent Kull warriors, and demonstrated her knowledge of their customs. She even knew some basic phrases in their guttural language. When he asked, she merely smiled mysteriously, and murmured, "The education that Angela gave me was... extensive." And that was all she would say on the subject.

Around late afternoon, Alice had finally completed her overview of all of the casualties and wounded in the Varden, and sent her completed report to Nasuada by message-runner. As they headed back into the centre of camp, she started looking as grey as the early twilight.

"You need rest." Blödhgarm said firmly, as she stumbled and gripped his arm for support. He towed her into her small office before people could notice what state she was in. He was concerned: her heart was fluttering unevenly, and her breathing seemed shallow.

"Just, give me a minute." She panted, and tried to control the tremors of exhaustion in her limbs. She'd ordered the bed to be removed from the office - they needed every spare, and her private tent was not far. She just needed a moment to catch her breath... The magic that was left in the crystal fortified her energy, but there was only so much it could do. She'd reached her limit.

They stood quietly for more than a minute, she leaning against him while he supported her with one arm around her shoulders. When she swayed and felt like falling, he brought his other hand around the small of her back, taking her weight.

"S-sorry..." she mumbled, as the room span in her vision. He didn't reply, but brushed her hair back from her face, looking at her intently. His mind brushed hers, his concern emanating from him.

Your mind feels strange. She said, after a moment. He withdrew slightly, satisfied that her mind at least was lucid.

How so? He asked, curious. She closed her eyes, thinking.

I can hear... music... I think. She answered, straining to hear it.

Don't wander too far in my thoughts, he warned, You may get lost.

Alice sensed the alienness of his mind, the different thought-pattern, quick as a bird and as convoluted as a maze, as well as the vastness of it... his memories until early childhood were as clear and detailed as yesterday's. She felt a little intimidated... and sad, though she didn't quite know why.

Sensing her fear, he felt an unexpected pang, and withdrew his mind entirely, not wanting to cause her any discomfort. He shifted, settling her in his arms more securely. Her eyes opened as the music faded, and she looked up at him. He looked quietly down at her, a small smile curling the side of his mouth. His pupils were large and dark, his eyelids hooded, and she couldn't hold his gaze for long. Though she should have been intensely aware of his proximity... His embrace felt comforting and natural, and she was so tired she didn't have the energy to dwell on it at first.

But after a while, her heart rate seemed to stabilise, and she felt more herself. She could feel his hard muscles under her hands as she braced herself against him. His was slim, like all elves, but even in human terms, he was powerfully built. Even when he utterly still, as he was now, his body seemed like a coiled spring, strong and reassuringly solid.

The dark fur which covered his entire body, except for his face, was soft and luxurious, and tickled her cheek. As usual, his only clothes was grey breeches of some elvish material. He was so tall he could have rested his chin on the top of her head, had he been so inclined.

The warmth from his body and the rhythm of his own soft, deep breathing made her eyes begin to flutter.

"Blödhgarm," she said, and tried to push away in an attempt to stop falling asleep.

"Mm?" he asked, and didn't remove his arms. A mischievous spark was in his eyes as she tried unsuccessfully to pull away, then gave up, relaxing again into his embrace. She fervently hoped no one would enter the tent... just the thought of explaining sent blood rushing to her face. But it wasn't like that...

"... Why aren't you letting me go?" she asked him. His irises were large and dark in his yellow eyes as he looked down at her.

"I will when I'm sure you won't fall over." He promised, after a moment. His words vibrated deep in his chest. She could see the tips of his sharp teeth between his lips when he spoke.

She closed her eyes briefly and tried to simply enjoy the moment. This is more comfortable anyway... she said to herself. Then she remembered the question she'd wanted to ask him. "Why weren't you with Eragon today?" she asked.

The mischievous look vanished, replaced by caution. "I'm not needed." He said, not quite lying.

Alice looked confused.

"Eragon is going to Tronjheim," he explained, "To oversee the election of their new king. Saphira remains behind to keep up the pretence that he is still here."

Alice considered this, biting her bottom lip as she gazed away from him. "That's a risky venture." She said at last, looking back at him. "We're not in good shape as it is... But Lady Nasuada is a much cannier politician and strategist than I."

"She has proved a formidable leader indeed," agreed Blödhgarm. "The Varden is in safe hands."

"You once called her incompetent."

"And I could not have been more wrong, as I seem to recall you telling me categorically at the time."

"We've come quite far since then." Alice mused quietly. Ever since she'd met him, they'd wavered between being enemies and... what were they? Friends?

His expression was unreadable. "The biggest challenges still lie ahead." He said, somewhat cryptically. She chose to interpret his words in relation to the war.

"... Feinster." She said.

He looked away. "Indeed." He murmured, after a moment, "The army will need to be fit to move by the end of the week."

She looked more worried than ever. "So many of the men are badly wounded... I must ensure that-"

"You must ensure that Nasuada still has someone she can rely on to lead the healers." He interrupted her gently. "Carrying on as you did today is not sustainable."

Alice pulled a face. "I think I can stand now." She said, pushing him away.

This time he let her go.

Alice shivered in the sudden chill from the absence of his body heat, and leaned on her desk instead. She picked up the time-keeping device that always rested on her corner.

"Only eight hours since midday." She mused, barely stifling a yawn. "I'll head to my tent," she assured him quickly, as he looked about to start ordering her to bed.

He insisted on escorting her back, something she should have felt annoyed at, yet could only manage rolling her eyes, all the while feeling secretly pleased at his attentions. What was making him so attentive to her? Did he view her as weak, someone who needed to be taken care of? Or was he merely bored? Or was it-... she wanted badly to ask him, but she decided against it. That was a conversation for a time when she wasn't half dead from exhaustion.

But she did not stay in her tent for long. Although she felt exhausted, she was still determined to accomplish one more thing before she could allow her head to rest on a pillow: she had to speak to Eragon before he left.

She walked alone the short distance to his tent, but was disappointed to see that he was not there - no doubt he was spending as much of the time as he could with his dragon before their inevitable parting.

Turning to leave the empty tent, she noticed one of Blödhgarm's elves keeping watch for his return nearby, and remembered another important mission she'd set herself.

Steeling herself, Alice squared her shoulders and approached bravely. She was relieved to see in wasn't Hedara - Angela had mentioned to her that Hedara had been the only elf not to participate in the spell.

"It's Yaela, isn't it?" Alice asked nervously, recognizing the raven hair and large, attractive olive-coloured eyes of the she-elf.

The elvish woman held her gaze somewhat coldly, and inclined her head.

Alice switched immediately to the ancient language, hoping very much that her vocabulary would be sufficient to the task. "I would speak with you, Yaela-elda, about the events of the day before yesterday."

Alice surprised her by bending at the waist in a low bow in the elvish style. "You have my most sincere thanks for the role that you played in my..." she hesitated, thinking of the correct word, "...recovery," she said, and then straightened, meeting the elf's eyes, which had widened in surprise. "I owe you and the other elves a great debt... If I am able to repay it one day, I shall without hesitation."

For a few moments Yaela was silent as she considered Alice's oath. Then she said, her tone still frosty, "There is no debt. My actions and those of my fellows were in service to Blödhgarm, not to you."

Alice nodded, not feeling offended. "I am aware of that. However, my feelings of gratitude are undiminished, as is my debt. You saved my life, and the life of one who deserved saving many times more than I... I cannot overlook it."

Yaela looked at Alice with new eyes. This woman has a silver tongue, she thought to herself. I am starting to understand Blödhgarm's fascination with her...

"I would like you to know..." continued Alice, hesitant as she searched for the correct phrasing, "I never intended anyone else to be endangered by my actions. It pains me that things so very nearly ended in a tragedy... a tragedy far beyond just the loss of my own life." She looked down. "I acted selfishly, out of fear... and I regret my actions."

"Your words gladden my heart," Yaela said, surprisingly warmly, "And they show a maturity beyond your years. If you are so determined to take on that debt, I have no grounds to refuse it - and furthermore, though I speak not for my companions - I forgive you. Few are able to resist the lure of necromancy, and had your actions been purely self-serving, the consequences would have been much worse."

Alice exhaled in relief, some of the tension which had dogged her ever since she'd woken leaving her shoulders. But the elf was not quite finished.

"Alice-finiarel," she said, using the honorific form for a younger person of great promise, "I must ask - what do you intend to do with the forbidden knowledge that made it possible?" Alice did not take this question lightly - it was a test of her character, and one that she was determined to pass.

"I have thought long on that, Yaela-elda," she replied respectfully, "The knowledge is contained in a tome that is of importance beyond the information it holds-" Yaela's brow creased as she tried to understand Alice's awkward phrasing, but Alice continued without elaborating, "However, I am aware of the danger the knowledge presents. The book must go to Ellesmera as soon as events permit, where I will consent to having it destroyed." It was hard to contemplate destroying one of her family's books, but Alice felt that something that evil should not be allowed to fall into the wrong hands. If the King ever found out how she'd managed to circumvent death... just trying to kill him once was hard enough!

Yaela nodded, approving.

"As for the knowledge I already possess about necromancy..." Alice continued, " I will never use it on myself or someone else ever again, nor will I willingly pass on the knowledge of my spell to one who would use it." As she spoke the words, she felt herself being bound by them, and felt only relief that she would never again feel the terrible compulsion to try to cheat death.

Yaela smiled. "Then we have no quarrel," she said, "And we part as friends. I can see now that as evil as the art of necromancy is, it has done Alagaesia a great service by ensuring one such as you remains among the living. I shall pass on your words to the others, who I have no doubt will be as equally gratified as I am to hear them. It has been an issue which has preyed on all our minds since the battle." With that, she gave a small bow of her own, and then turned and walked away.

Alice swayed, feeling like the burden she'd felt since she'd woken up two nights ago lifting. Perhaps now, she could finally move on...

"How unexpected." Came a sharp voice, as Arya stalked out of the darkness.

"Arya," Alice said in surprise - had she heard their whole exchange? "...Don't you approve?" she asked uncertainly, unable to fathom her cold expression.

"Your oaths are admirable," she said dismissively, her sarcasm heavy, "But foolish."

Alice felt a prickle of annoyance. "They were not lightly made." She said, her voice stiff.

Arya glared and stalked forward. "You still do not know?" she demanded harshly, "Did you think necromancy would be overlooked so easily?"

"I never intended to endanger-"

"This isn't about your actions!" Arya said bitterly, "Have you know idea what the consequences of his actions will be?"

Alice frowned at her, confused. "You're talking about Bl-"

"Of course I am!" said Arya angrily.

Alice stared at her, not understanding.

"In order to protect you from our laws," Arya explained, as if to a child, "He agreed to face a trial in Ellesmera. He took responsibility. If he is very fortunate indeed, the High Council will break hundreds of years of tradition and the price may not be his life."

Alice's face drained of colour.

"I'm not needed" - that's what he'd said when she asked why he wasn't with Eragon...

She felt as though she had been hit in the stomach. "But I didn't - I would never have asked -" she choked.

Arya shook her head. "The fault lies with him," she acknowledged, reluctantly, "Not with you." She turned to go. "We are in a war." She said coldly, over her shoulder. "Remove yourself from his company before you do any more damage." And she melted into the darkness.

Author's note:

Why is Arya always such a bitch? Hmm?

Btw: I don't intend setting her up to be a love rival for Alice...

So what could possibly be her problem?