Chapter 8: Fear and Resentment.
Light poured into the tunnel as the doors were dragged open.
Eragon gave his eyes a few moments to adjust, then shifted a few locks of hair from his face and continued walking.
Next to him Saphira hissed and arched her neck to get a better view of their surroundings.
That was not a journey he would ever take for pleasure, it had taken them two days, just two days, to traverse the subterranean wonderland, but that time had been as dull as pig shit.
And pig shit was pretty dull, Eragon knew that from experience, fifteen years living and working on a farm had taught him many things, one of which was 'Pig shit is dull'.
Only a handful of words had been spoken during their trip and those mostly niceties, and to be honest silence really grated on the riders nerves.
Next to him Arya glared before walking ahead, keeping her gaze forwards.
"You will never again consume an animal's flesh after you have been trained, or if you do, it will be only on the rarest of occasions" she had told him when he asked why she ate no meat which was something he noticed in his observations of her, when his eyes were above her waistline.
His response had been witty, sarcastic, quite offensive and something he really should apologise for, as usual "You know something elf, I'm not going to give up meat regardless, just to spite you."
After that there had been no conversation between Eragon and Arya.
'I think you made her grumpy' said Saphira, resisting the urge to chuckle.
'Why? She should be honoured she's worthy of my spite, honestly some people' he shook his head and stomped forwards.
Once outside he moved to stand by Orik who had placed himself upon a granite outcropping more than a hundred feet above a purple hued lake that shone under the eastern sun. Though to be honest that could have been north and Eragon wouldn't know, or care. The tunnel had really screwed up his internal compass.
On the lakes far side the Az Ragni flowed north, winding between the peaks until it rushed out onto the eastern plains, far in the distance.
"What the fuck is that?" asked Eragon pointing to the great white and gold dome at the very top of the dwarf city of Tarnag, below it was tiers of interlocking buildings, and then farmland dotted with squat halls built entirely of stone, however the milky dome was the focus of his attention.
Orik shook at his head, in amusement, at Eragon's foul language "That is Celbedeil, the greatest temple of dwarfdom and home of Durgrimst Quan, the Quan clan, who act as servants and messengers to the gods."
"Are they the rulers of Tarnag, it looks like the whole city was built around the temple?" he asked, grinning.
"Nay" said Arya, the first word she had spoken to him since 'the meat incident' as he had taken to calling it "Though the Quan are strong, they are small in numbers, despite their power over the afterlife... and gold. It is the Ragni Hefthyn, the River Guard, who control Tarnag. We will stay with their clan chief, Undin, while here."
Eragon watched Arya leave, the distaste in her tone as she spoke of Durgrimst Quan was... unusual, especially as it wasn't directed at him.
He glanced to Orik and they quickly followed.
"Don't mind her" Orik whispered to him as they headed through the gnarled forest that covered the mountain like a great blanket "She's been arguing with the Quan for years. Every time she visits Tarnag and speaks with a priest it produces a quarrel fierce enough to scare a Kull."
"Now that I would like to see" he said, grinning as he watched the leather clad elf who walked in front of them.
"I know little of it, but I've heard she disagrees strong with much that the Quan practise. It seems that elves do not hold with 'muttering into the air for help'" Orik scoffed and scowled at this.
'Something we agree on' Eragon told Saphira.
'That may be, but remember, as a member of the Ingeitum you may have to follows their religious practises in order to satisfy the dwarves.'
'If that's the case then they can go fuck themselves, 'cause they sure ain't fucking me.'
'Inspired little one' Saphira complimented.
'I thought so too. I guess I can understand though, religion inspires, it brings hope. Having a higher power to honour and appease makes the world feel less... uncaring. Without that their lives would seem very empty, perhaps even pointless.'
Saphira shook her head 'I do not understand this religion thing you two legs cling to.'
Eragon chuckled, but his eyes found the elf's raven locks again soon. He wondered briefly what elves, or rather Arya herself, believed.
But that soon faded as he revelled in the outside, the sun, the warmth, the sky, the smell of moss, and of leave and ferns, and the sounds, the wonderful sounds of life, of insects bustling about their daily lives, gods had he missed this.
Farthen Dur had felt quite claustrophobic, looking back, he hadn't noticed it at the time, to overwhelmed or excited about everything that was happening, but now he realised just how stifling the crater was. Two days in a pitch dark tunnel doubtless made the outside all the sweeter, but it would still be sweet to simply be here after all that time in Farthen Dur.
Their path took them down to the edge of the lake, Eragon tried to remember if anyone had told him its name, before turning towards Tarnag, rising towards the dwarf city.
"How exactly do you keep Galbatorix from coming here and turning this place into rubble, Farthen Dur I can understand but... this?"
Orik laughed softy "We don't. Before the death of Morzan we had to abandon all of our surface cities as Galbatorix or his Forsworn would often fly through the Beors, killing any they encountered. It's only with his death and the end of the Forsworn that we came back to the surface."
"I though dwarves always lived underground?"
"Why should we?" Orik chuckled at his ignorance "We have an affinity for stone, true. But we like open air as much as elves or humans. As for the city... well, Galbatorix may be unnaturally strong, but even he would not attack an entire city on his own. He could cause us endless grief true, but he and his dragon rarely leave Uru'baen these days, and then only for short trips. And he couldn't bring an army here without first conquering Buragh or Farthen Dur."
"Which he almost did" Eragon reminded.
As they crested a small mound an animal crashed through the underbrush and onto the path. The creature looked similar to a mountain goat from the Spine, only a third larger and with giant ribbed horns that curled around its cheeks.
"What is that?" asked Eragon, ignoring the rider of said beat and grinning with a cat like curiosity.
"Hert durgrimst? Fild rastn?" Shouted the dwarf saddled atop the animal, someone Eragon had ignored prior to him speaking.
Eragon ignored Orik's answer and continued to stare at the creature. It, in turn, stared warily, though not at him but at Saphira, it eyes were bright and intelligent, though it had a droll face with a frost beard and sombre expression.
"Azt jok jordn rast" the dwarf replied to Orik's answer then, without the rider giving a discernible command, the goat leapt forwards covering an extraordinary distance in moments. The rider and steed quickly vanished between the trees.
"I don't know what that is" Eragon said as they watched it depart "but is it distantly related to Hrothgar? What was it?"
Orik roared with laughter, not stopping for a several minutes "I would advise you to never tell him that" Orik warned but was unable to keep the amusement from his face "I suspect he would kill whoever who said it, other than you" he took a moment to calm himself "That was Feldunost" the dwarf said, staring to walk, but still grinning in amusement "One of the five animals unique to these mountains. Each of the animals has a clan named after them. However, Durgrimst Feldunot is perhaps the bravest and most revered of these clans."
"Why?"
"We depend on Fuldunost for milk, wool, and meat" Orik explained "Without their sustenance, we could not live in the Beors. When Galbatorix and his traitorous riders were terrorizing us, it was Durgrimst Feldunost who risked themselves, and still do, to tend to the herds and fields. As such, we are all in their debt."
"So are Feldunost" he said the word experimentally "the typical steed of the dwarves?"
"Only in the mountains. Feldunost are hardy and surefooted, but they are better suited for cliffs than open plains."
Saphira nudged Eragon with her nose 'Now those would be good hunting, maybe if we have time in Tarnag...'
'Just make sure you get permission first' Eragon interrupted 'I don't want to have to deal with irate dwarves because my troublesome dragon killed something she shouldn't have.'
She huffed 'Fine.'
"You know, I feel like a bit of an idiot" he said to Orik, scratching the helm with his hand "wearing just a helm, I should have at least but on the bracers."
Orik just grinned and patted him on the arm.
Their path, long concealed under the thick branches of trees, entered into the great clearing that surrounded Tarnag.
Groups had already begun to gather in the fields around them when seven Feldunost with jewelled harnesses bounded from the city and towards the group. Their riders bore lances tipped with pennants that snapped like whips in the air.
The lead dwarf pulled his beast to a halt before them "Thou art well-come to this city of Tarnag. By otho of Undin and Gannel, I, Throv, son of Brokk, offer in peace the shelter of our halls" his accent grumbled and rasped with a rough burr quite unlike Orik's.
"And by Hrothgar's otho, we of Ingeitum accept your hospitality" Eragon waved as Orik spoke, making sure they could see the Ingeitum symbol upon his head.
'You seem awfully cheerful Eragon.'
"As do I, in Islanzadi's stead" added Arya.
'What can I say' Eragon said to his dragon 'I like new things.'
Saphira snorted at his almost, or rather very, childish attitude.
The seven riders positioned themselves in formation around the four of them and, with a flourish, they rode on, leading them towards Tarnag.
Eragon stomped by Orik with Snowfire's reign's in his hands, he hadn't bothered riding the horse through the tunnel and he even now he still couldn't work up the energy to get up into the saddle.
The outer wall was forty feet thick and formed a showed tunnel to the first of the many farms that surrounded the city. They progressed up through five more tiers, each defended by a wall and fortified gate, before reaching the city proper.
The buildings of Tarnag were oddly graceful and light, in stark contrast to the heavy ramparts. There were carvings adorning the houses and shops but the thing that struck Eragon most was the colours, from bright scarlet to subtle green stone, glazed the rock in translucent layers.
The dwarves flameless lanterns hung throughout the city, harbingers of the Beors short daylight.
Unlike Tronjheim, which had most likely been built to be impressive to all races, Tarnag had been constructed for dwarves, with no concession for human, elf or dragon.
Eragon wasn't massively tall, though he did match Arya, perhaps ever taller by a couple of centimetres, but when the doorways were four and a half feet tall he couldn't help but feel like a giant, or maybe he was standing in a puppet stage.
The streets, however, were wide and crowded. Dwarves of various clans went about their business, haggled or sold. Many were garbed oddly, such as a set of fierce black haired dwarves who wore silver helms forged in the likeness of wolf heads.
The women however, caught Eragon's attention the most, he had only caught brief glances at Tronjheim but now he could see them properly. They were broader than the men, their faces heavyset, yet they had sharp, bright eyes, and their hair was lustrous and their hands gentle upon diminutive children.
Most eschewed fripperies, except for small intricate brooches, most of iron or stone.
As the group approached, with the Feldunost's piercing footsteps acting as good as any announcer, the dwarves turned to look.
They bowed and murmured "Shadeslayer" to him, much as the dwarves in Tronjheim did.
At least at first they did, once they noticed the Ingeitum symbol on his brow the suppressed admiration turned to shock and often anger.
The angrier dwarves gathered around the Feldunost, glaring between the mounts at Eragon and shouting in their own language.
'Insults really don't work when I don't understand the damn language' Eragon said to Saphira, the dwarves just looked stupid to him, like rowdy drunks.
"I hope he knew what he was doing" Eragon muttered to Orik after hearing a particularly violent curse, obviously he had no idea what it meant, but Orik had winced at it.
Orik nodded, his face grave "As do I brother, as do I."
However Thorv and his riders acted as though they did not exist and rode forwards regardless marching without pause through seven more tiers until there was but a single gate between them and the mass of Celbedeil.
Following which they turned left, towards a great hall pressed against a mountain and protected by a barbican with two machicolated towers.
It was as they neared it that armed dwarves streamed from between the houses, they wore long purple veils and formed a thick line, blocking the street.
The riders halted their steeds immediately and their faces became stony.
"What's going on?" asked Eragon, he didn't claim to be good at reading people but even he could feel these dwarves menace.
Orik didn't answer, only shaking his head and striding forwards.
"Erzil nithgech!" cried a veiled dwarf, following which he ranted for a long minute.
'I'm bored, are you bored?'
'Yes, very' said Saphira, looking at the dwarf with the same disinterested as Eragon.
"Vron!" barked Thorv, cutting him off. Then they started arguing, at least Eragon assumed it was arguing, shouting, screaming and mad hand gestures, it certainly didn't look friendly. Despite this Thorv seemed to respect the other dwarf.
Eragon peered around on the Feldunost, trying to get a better look.
They caught sight of each other and the veiled dwarf fell silent, jabbing at Eragon's helm with an expression of horror.
"Knurlag qana qiranu Durgrimst Ingeitum!" it didn't take the dwarf long to find his voice and start screaming again "Qarzul ana Hrothgar oen volfild..."
"Jok is frekk durgrimstvern?" interrupted Orik, his voice quiet but strong, the danger in his tone strengthened by him drawing his axe. Eragon placed a hand on Durza's sword, holding the hilt in a reverse grip, ready to draw, but not doing so yet.
The veiled dwarf stared hard at Orik, then he took an iron ring from his pocket, tore three hairs from his beard, wrapped the around the ring and threw it into the street with an impervious clink, spitting after it.
Without another word the purpled clothed dwarves field away.
Orik, Thorv, and the other riders looked shocked by the act, flinching as the ring bounced across the pavement. Even Arya appeared taken aback. Two of the younger riders reached for their blades, but their hands fell quickly as Thorv barked "Eta!"
"Something tells me that wasn't good" said Eragon, despite that he didn't really see any big deal in it, whilst Orik retrieved the ring and deposited it in a pouch.
"It was not" said Thorv, his voice controlled though tense "You have enemies, Shadeslayer."
'Well no...' Eragon muttered to Saphira, not enjoying the vagueness 'I have enemies, what a surprise.'
Eragon was hurried through the barbican into a wide courtyard. Three tables were arrayed around it, decorated with lanterns and banners.
Before the tables stood a group of dwarves, standing at the fore of the group was a grey bearded dwarf clothed in wolf skin "Welcome to Tarnag, home of Durgrimst Ragno Hefthyn" the dwarf said, spreading his arms "We have heard much praise of you, Eragon Shadeslayer. I am Undin, son of Derund and clan chief."
Another dwarf stepped forwards this one had the physique of a warrior, and his hooded black eyes never left Eragon's face "And I, Gannel, son of Orm Blood-Ax and clan chief of Durgrimst Quan."
Eragon shrugged at them "Good for you."
Orik didn't react, showing just how concerned he was about the encounter, if his stony face wasn't enough of a sign.
Eragon examined the courtyard where they stood carefully, his crimson eyes taking in everything, looking at the most advantageous spots to fight in, the places where Saphira would be most useful and the places exactly he and her could escape to the skies from.
That was Eragon's only real sign of tension, eyeing up escape routes.
'Relax Saphy, I'll avenge you' he told Saphira on the outside smiling in amusement at her irritation at being ignored, in truth just as, if not more, annoyed.
'You better' her irritation didn't die down.
The chiefs greeted Arya and then Orik in turn, but their hospitality was lost on Orik who just extended his hand, the iron ring in his palm.
With wide eyes Undin held the ring between forefinger and thumb, as if it were a venomous snake instead of a ring "Who gave this to you?"
"It was Az Sweldn rak Anhuin. And not to be, but to Eragon."
'They tossed a ring with a few hairs on it, what's the big deal?' Eragon said to Saphira as alarm spread across their faces. He had seen dwarves who did not flinch as Kull tore into their bodies with their thick swords, so that ring must symbolise something pretty damn horrific.
'Maybe, it's a promise of marriage.'
Eragon gagged at the thought.
"We must consult of this issue" said Undin, after a moment of listening to the mutterings of his advisers, a frown on his face "Shadeslayer, a feat is prepared in your honour. If you would allow my servants to guide you to your quarters, you can refresh yourself, and then we might begin."
"Sure" 'You'll be alright?' he asked his dragon, who had settled herself down almost purposefully in the way.
'Of course.'
The room he was led to was, thankfully, big enough for him to stand tall in comfortably, the corridors were made solely for dwarven usage and as such Eragon had to bend over to fit through.
The servant who had led him here bowed and exited "I will return when Grimstborith Undin is ready."
Eragon didn't waste any time and stripped off. He approached he wash basin set on the floor next to the low bed, and knelt down to shoved himself, headfirst, into said basin.
He bathed in the water for several seconds, before rising out, steam rising from his skin "Ouch" he said quietly "Boiling water, huh? Must be a dwarven thing."
He cleaned his face and neck, squeezing what he could from his hair, before pulling out the clothes he had worn to Ajihad's funeral. He strapped both Zar'roc and Durza's swords only the ornate belt, unwilling to leave either behind. Durza's blade went on the left as he had worn it since he had left Tronjheim.
He didn't care if either sword insulted Undin's table, or indeed Undin himself, screw the table, as Eragon was feeling pretty damn insulting. Offending Saphira, even in a minor way, was a great way to earn Eragon's unbridled anger.
He weighed Nasuada's scroll in his hand, it was too big for him to slip it unnoticeably down his shirt or hide it in his boot, so in the end he had to slip it up his sleeve, muttering "Should be safe there... unless I get into a fight... in which case, fuck it."
His hair was still wet when he arrived back out in the dark courtyard. It was only an hour or so past noon but the sun had already vanished behind mountains, throwing Tarnag into dusk.
The city, however, glowed, almost literally. The dwarves magic lanterns set the city alight, only not in the good way which involves fire, burning and screaming, instead it lit the city like a beacon in the dark, essentially making it a massive target.
Undin and the others were gathered in the courtyard, awaiting him.
Saphira had chosen to settle down at the head of a table, and, surprisingly, not, no one was interested in disputing the dragon's choice.
'Anything new?' he asked, strutting towards her.
'Undin summoned extra warriors, then had the gates barred.'
'Oh!' Eragon grinned brutally 'An attack? Excellent! I feel like spilling some blood, I wonder if dwarves bleed red like us, or some other colour.'
'Don't get so hopeful, it's only a possibility.'
"Eragon, please join me" Undin, and many other dwarves, may have scowled at Zar'roc on his belt, but wouldn't let that get in the way of being a gracious host and gestured to the chair to his right.
Eragon shrugged and slumped down in the chair, closely followed by Undin.
Orik ended up next to him and Arya directly across the table, both looked grim.
'Least I'll have something nice to look at' said Eragon grinning cheerfully at Arya, completely ignoring the serious aura both his companions were exuding.
"Ign az voth!"
Eragon wanted to check his ears weren't bleeding after Undin's roared and slapped the table, but he restrained himself.
Servants streamed out of the hall, bearing platters of beaten gold, covered in foods of all description to cater for all tastes.
But Eragon was barely interested, he was far more interested in the ring, who exactly the Az Sweldn rak Anhuin Orik mention were, and, of course, in annoying Undin.
At least he that had been his plan, until he saw the centrepiece of the feast, a giant roasted boar, glistening with sauce. It was larger than Snowfire, took six dwarves to carry, the tusks were longer and thicker than his forearms and the snout as wide as his entire head, but Eragon was fairly certain it was a boar.
The smell of it though, it was overpowering and pungent, but not in a bad way. It smelled delicious, despite making his eyes water simply from the strength of the scent.
"Narga" Orik whispered to him, seeing his reverie "Giant boar. Undin truly honours you tonight, Eragon. Only the bravest dwarves dare hunt Nagran, and it is only served to those who have great valour. Also I think he makes a gesture that he will support you over Durgrimst Narga."
"That's another animal native to the Beors, like Feldunost, then? What are the rest?" he didn't bother keeping his voice down, uncaring as too who would hear as the servants placed the food down.
"Forest wolves big enough to prey on a Nagra and nimble enough to catch Feldunost. Cave bears, which we call Urzhadn and the elves call Beorn and for which they dubbed these peaks, though we do not call them such ourselves. The mountains' name is a secret we share with no race. And..."
"Smer voth" commanded Undin, smiling at his guest. The servants cut portions of Narga with small curved knives and set some on everyone's plate, except for Arya's, including a weighty bit for Saphira.
Undin smiled again, took a dagger and sliced a bit of meat from his own piece.
Seeing that no one else was moving and was instead watching Undin, Eragon too kept his gaze on the clan chief. When in doubt, follow the crowd.
Undin chewed slowly, rolling his eyes and nodding in an exaggerate fashion, it did occur to Eragon how that look must be very much akin to his orgasm face, then he swallowed and proclaimed "Ilf gauhnith!"
"So what was that?" Eragon asked, promptly ignoring the clan chief in favour of Orik.
"Hmm? You mean him tasting to food" Orik took a bite of his meat "It is custom" he took another "from days when poison was rampant among clans" yet another bite "for the host to taste the food first and declare it safe for his guests."
Eragon cut off a great chunk of his Nagra and shoved it into his mouth, while staring over at Arya and with her watching him, her eyes cold.
The juices dripped down his chin messily, but he suspected that that only intensified his plan, which was annoying the elf.
The taste of Nagra hit him before he could truly revel in his victory. It was juicy and soft, and oddly spicy as if the meat had been soaked in honey and cider, which was enhanced by the mint used to flavour it.
'How the hell' Eragon said, stuffing another chunk into his gob 'did they cook something this damn big?'
'Very slowly.'
'I is thinking that we must meet these other beasts of the Beors' he said, chewing upon the delectable meat.
'And eat them?' Saphira put in hopefully.
'And eat them' Eragon agreed.
Eragon didn't speak much during the meal, and once he got over the tastiness of Nagra he ate with something that could possibly be considered manners. Once or twice he asked Orik about something, truthfully though even whilst doing it he barely remembered what he was asking.
The feast lasted hours, so much so that the meal, starting but an hour after noon, lasted until the late afternoon.
As servants removed the tableware Undin turned to Eragon "The meal pleased you, yes?"
"Yup, food good" said Eragon, grinning brightly.
Undin nodded "I'm glad you enjoyed it. I had the tables moved outside yesterday so the dragon might dine with us" he remained intently focused on Eragon all the while he spoke.
Orik's hand gripped his thigh as Eragon's face went cold. He had seen full well how Eragon reacted to Saphira being treated as little more than an animal, and it wasn't kindly.
"Saphira" he pulled out the word, staring Undin straight in the eye, his gaze which could make kings bend had a much similar effect on the clan chief who averted his own gaze "and I thank you."
Eragon turned his eyes to the table "Why was the ring thrown at us?"
A painful silence consumed the courtyard, next to him Orik winced, but nodded, probably thankfully that Eragon hadn't drawn his sword and tried to kill Undin. Looking up, just a little bit, Eragon saw Arya's smile. She knew exactly what he was doing and why and, apparently, it pleased her.
Undin scowled thickly, placing his dagger down "The knurlagn you met are of a tragic clan. Before the Riders' fall, they were among the oldest, richest families of our kingdom. Their doom was sealed, though, by two mistakes, they lived on the western edge of the Beor Mountains, and they volunteered their greatest warriors in Vrael's service."
"Galbatorix" anger broke through his voice, like rock shattering under great weight "and his ever cursed Forsworm slaughtered them in your city of Uru'Baen. Then they flew on us, killing many. Of that clan, only Grimstcarvlorss Anhuin and her guards survived. Anhuin soon died of grief, and her men took the name Az Sweldn rak Anhuin, The Tears of Anhuin, covering their faces to remind themselves of their loss and their desire for revenge."
Eragon looked at him with an expression that could only be called boredom, though if you looked deeper you would see pity, maybe even sympathy "So, they rebuilt the clan over the decades, waiting and hunting for recompense. And now you come, bearing Hrothgar's mark. It is the ultimate insult to them, no matter your service in Farthen Dur."
Eragon sighed "Idiots" he muttered.
Undin looked up sharply "Why do you say that, Rider?" his tone was stiff and cold, he too seemed to hold Az Sweldn rak Anhuin in high regard.
"I can understand vengeance, but Galbatorix sits in Uru'Baen, I am not him, nor do I serve him, nor are we very chummy. Hating all Dragon Riders for the actions of fourteen of them, would be like me hating the entire dwarven nation, for the actions of Az Sweldn rak Anhuin."
Logic won the battle and Undin nodded, only hesitating for a moment "True enough. But sometimes vengeance is not logical sometimes vengeance is foolish and causes people to act rashly. The ring" he continued getting back to topic "is an ultimate challenge. It means Durgrimst Az Sweldn rank Anhuin will oppose you with all their resources, in every matter, big or small. They have set themselves against you utterly, declared themselves blood enemies."
"So they don't want the King killed?" Eragon asked "cause if they intend to oppose me in every matter, and I do intend to kill the King, then they stand on his side, and if they willingly stand on his side" he grinned darkly "I'll kill them all without mercy."
Undin gulped and could do nothing but nod.
"They'd have a better time against Galbatorix" Eragon muttered, mostly to himself "He doesn't seem like the sort to beat about the bush, not too much at least, whilst I" he cut a line on a pastry with his knife "I like to play with my food."
"If they attack me, or Saphira" he spoke in a louder voice, making sure everyone could hear "I will kill them, I will hunt them down and butcher them, that is absolute. And they should realise they have no chance of killing me, there is only one person I may die fighting, and they are not he."
Undin cast a glance to Gannel, then laughed gruffly "Do not fear Shadeslayer! Not even they would dare hurt a guest. It is forbidden. They just want you gone, gone, gone."
'I doubt that' Eragon told Saphira who growled lightly in agreement.
"Please, let us talk no more of these unpleasant matters. Gannel and I have offered our food and mead in friendship. Is that not what matters?" the priest murmured in concordance.
Eragon stared at them for several seconds "It's appreciated" he finally relented when Orik hit his kneecap, and none to gently either.
'They are afraid, Eragon. Afraid and resentful because they have been forced to accept a Rider's assistance.'
'Imagine what they'd do if they knew I was a Shade.'
