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As they left the camp, a line of dark smudges became visible on the horizon, indistinct on the hazy air. Murtagh thought they were distant hills. Tania, however, got the feeling they were something else—something bigger. But as they could see no details from their distance, Tania decided to let the matter rest.
At midday they stopped for a rest. When they resumed their journey, Tania noticed that the haziness had thinned since morning, and the distant smudges had gained definition. No longer purple-blue lumps, they were now broad, forest-covered mounds with clear outlines. The air above them was completely white, all the color seemingly bleached out of it. Tania drew in a sharp breath as she realized what they were, and she felt Cadoc tense momentarily beneath her at her own tension.
Ophelia, those are mountains!
They are? Tania noticed the faint flicker of a dark shadow on a distant dune as Ophelia gained height. Those… are big mountains… I feel like a hatchling again. I'm tiny compared to them! I cannot see their peaks!
Neither can I. I can barely believe I'm not dreaming, except for the fact that I could never dream up something so big, Tania said. Out the corner of her eye, she noticed Eragon guide Snowfire over to Murtagh and Tornac and point ahead, grinning.
"What?" Murtagh grunted, gray eyes scanning the land.
"Look closely," urged Eragon.
The other peered closely at the horizon before shrugging. "What, I don't—" The words died in his mouth and gave way to slack-jawed wonder. Murtagh shook his head, muttering, "That's impossible!" He squinted so hard that the corners of his eyes crinkled, shaking his head again. "I knew the Beor Mountains were large, but not that monstrous size!"
"Just hope the animals aren't in proportion to their home!" Tania called back lightly.
They both grinned at her. "It will be good to find some shade and spend a few weeks in leisure," Murtagh said. "I've had enough of this forced march."
"At least you're going somewhere, not wandering the land aimlessly," Tania pointed out.
"I'm tired too," Eragon admitted, "but I don't want to stop until the elf is cured… or she dies."
"I don't see how continuing to travel will help her," Murtagh said gravely. "A bed will do her more good than hanging underneath Saphira all day."
Eragon shrugged. "Maybe… When we reach the mountains, I could take her to Surda—it's not that far, and there must be a healer there who can help her; we certainly can't."
Murtagh shaded his eyes and stared at the mountains. "We can talk about it later. For now our goal is to reach the Beors. There, at least, the Ra'zac will have trouble finding us, and we will be safe from the Empire."
Does he really believe that? Ophelia asked.
I don't know, Tania answered. I just hope we don't have to wait long to get out of here. We're not dragons, and I am unused to the heat.
I know.
As the day wore on, the Beor Mountains seemed to get no closer, though the landscape changed dramatically. The sand slowly transformed from loose grains of reddish hue to hard-packed, dusky-cream dirt. In place of dunes were ragged patches of grass and deep furrows in the ground where flooding had occurred. A cool breeze wafted through the air, bringing welcome refreshment. The horses sensed the change in climate and hurried forward eagerly.
When evening subdued the sun, the mountain's foothills were a mere league away. Herds of gazelles bounded through lush fields of waving grass; Tania felt Ophelia eyeing them hungrily from above. They camped by a stream, relieved to be out of the punishing Hadarac Desert.
Fatigued and haggard, but with triumphant smiles, they sat around the fire, congratulating each other, as Saphira crowed jubilantly, startling the horses. Tania stared at the flames, smiling to herself. They had covered roughly sixty leagues in five days; it was an impressive feat, even for a rider able to change mounts regularly.
Soon I might not have to hide anymore, Ophelia murmured hopefully from beside Saphira.
I hope so, Tania answered. When we've arrived at wherever we're trying to get to… what do you think we should do?
Hmn… I don't know. Follow Saphira and Eragon, maybe?
Perhaps… or perhaps we should fight against Galbatorix?
I thought you didn't want to get dragged into that conflict.
I didn't. But from what both Murtagh and Eragon have told us, as well as what we have seen here… perhaps we should help.
Ophelia sighed. I think we should. I hate to see these innocent suffer. Yazuac is still fresh in my mind.
And in mine, too, Tania assured. But who should we fight with?
We should see what these Varden are like first, Ophelia suggested. Then we might go to the elves.
Perhaps. Tania glanced to where the elf lay stretched out besides Saphira, and wasn't entirely surprised to see Eragon there, eyes closed, a look of intense concentration on his features. Suddenly, they creased with pain, and Murtagh was instantly by his side, hand on his shoulder.
Before he could try to shake Eragon awake, Tania made her way over and put her own hand on Murtagh's shoulder. "I think he's trying to talk to her," she said, nodding at the elf. His gray eyes widened in understanding, and he sat back on his haunches. Tania settled herself, cross-legged, to wait.
Nearly fifteen minutes later, Eragon finally took a shuddering breath and forced his eyes open. "Are you alright?" asked Murtagh. "You've been kneeling there for almost fifteen minutes."
"I have?" Eragon queried, blinking.
Yes, and grimacing like a pained gargoyle, Saphira commented dryly.
Eragon stood, wincing slightly. "I talked with Arya!" Murtagh frowned quizzically, as if to inquire if he had gone mad, as Tania hid a smile. Eragon explained, "The elf—that's her name."
And what is it that ails her? Saphira asked impatiently.
Eragon swiftly told them of his entire discussion, and Tania was shocked to realize she knew of the poison. "Skilna Bragh? She should have died ages ago!"
Four different faces looked at her inquiringly. "My mother was a healer," she said quickly.
And she is an elf, Ophelia reminded her.
True.
"How far away is the Varden?" Murtagh asked.
"I'm not exactly sure," confessed Eragon. "From what she showed me, I think it's even farther than from here to Gil'ead."
"And we're supposed to cover that in three or four days?" Murtagh demanded angrily. "It took us five long days to get here! What do you want to do, kill the horses? They're exhausted as it is."
"But if we do nothing, she'll die! If it's too much for the horses, Saphira can fly ahead with Arya and me; at least we would get to the Varden in time. You could catch up with us in a few days."
Tania winced as Murtagh folded his arms. He could not have chosen a more ignorant way to say it. "Of course. Murtagh the pack animal. Murtagh the horse leader. I should have remembered that's all I'm good for nowadays. Oh, and let's not forget, every soldier in the Empire is looking for me now because you couldn't defend yourself, and I had to go and save you. Yes, I suppose I'll just follow your instructions and bring the horses in the rear like a good servant."
Eragon looked bewildered by the sudden venom in Murtagh's voice. "What's wrong with you? I'm grateful for what you did. There's no reason to be angry with me! I didn't ask you to accompany me or rescue me from Gil'ead. You chose that; I haven't forced you to do anything."
Tania took a step towards Saphira's claws, barely noticing herself go into her 'wild animal' stance, ready to step in if the situation got… messy.
"Oh, not openly, no," Murtagh snarled. "What else could I do but help you with the Ra'zac? And then later, in Gil'ead, how could I have left with a clear conscience? The problem with you," he said, poking Eragon in the chest, "is that you're so totally helpless you force everyone to take care of you!"
The words obviously stung Eragon, and Tania could see that he recognized the grain of truth in them. "Don't touch me," the young Rider growled.
Murtagh barked a laugh, a harsh note in his voice. "Or what, you'll punch me? You couldn't hit a brick wall." He went to shove Eragon again, but Eragon grabbed his arm and struck him in the stomach.
"I said, don't touch me!"
Tania tensed as Murtagh doubled over, swearing, before yelling and launching himself at Eragon. They fell in a tangle of arms and legs, pounding on each other.
What are you doing?! Ophelia's voice rang in her mind. Stop them before they kill each other!
Just wait. Then, as the pair rolled beside the fire, Tania stepped forward and in one fluid motion, caught Eragon's collar in her right hand, lifting him up, before grabbing Murtagh's attempted punch at the other man and using it to lift him up and pin him against her, before adjusting her grip on Eragon and letting Saphira pin him down with an angry roar.
"ENOUGH!" she yelled. When Murtagh tried to struggle, Tania tightened her grip on him and snapped her fingers under his nose. "Wake. Up," she hissed. He blinked, surprised, as she let Saphira pin him down as well. Murtagh yelped and struggled to push her muscled blue leg off, Eragon doing the same.
Look at you, fighting like starving dogs over a piece of meat! Ophelia yelled mentally—Tania could feel her struggling to suppress the angry red she knew was trying to bloom over her scales.
What would Brom say? Saphira added.
Eragon's cheeks reddened as he averted his eyes. He obviously knew exactly what Brom would have said. Saphira held them on the ground, letting them simmer, then said pointedly, Now, if you don't want to spend the night under my foot, you will politely ask Murtagh what troubles him. She snaked her head over to Murtagh and stared down at him with an impassive blue eye. And tell him that I will not stand for insults from either of you.
And neither will I, Ophelia grumbled.
Won't you let us up? complained Eragon.
No.
Would you really want me to sock your jaw? Tania asked. Eragon glared at her before reluctantly turning his head toward Murtagh. The older man avoided his eyes and looked up at the sky. "Well? Is she going to get off us?"
"If you don't talk and settle your differences, no, she won't," Tania told him sweetly, giving them both a wolfish smile that did not reach her eyes.
Saphira growled an affirmative and continued to stare at Murtagh. It was impossible to escape her piercing glare. Finally he shrugged, muttering something under his breath. Saphira's claws tightened on his chest, and her tail whistled through the air, barely missing Ophelia's horns. Murtagh shot the blue dragoness an angry glance, then grudgingly said louder, "I told you before: I don't want to go to the Varden."
Eragon frowned. "Don't want to… or can't?"
Murtagh tried to shove Saphira's leg off him, then gave up with a curse—That's three times now he hasn't apologized, Tania commented—"Don't want to! They'll expect things from me that I can't deliver."
"Did you steal something from them?"
"I wish it were that simple."
Both Tania and Eragon rolled their eyes. "Well, what is it, then? Did you kill someone important or bed the wrong woman?"
"No, I was born," said Murtagh. He pushed at Saphira's leg again, and this time, she released them both.
Tania sighed as the got to their feet under the dragoness's watchful eye and brushed dirt from their backs. "Murtagh, could you stop being bull-headedly stubborn and tell us?!"
She raised a challenging eyebrow as he scowled at her. After a minute, he sighed. "It doesn't matter why I'm in this predicament, but I can tell you that the Varden wouldn't welcome me even if I came bearing the king's head. Oh, they might greet me nicely enough and let me into their councils, but trust me? Never. And if I were to arrive in less fortuitous circumstances, like the present ones, they'd likely clap me in irons."
"Then stop being so damned cryptic and tell us," Tania snapped. "I'm certainly not going to judge you."
"Neither am I. I've done things I'm not proud of, too."
Murtagh shook his head slowly, eyes glistening. "It isn't like that. I haven't done anything to deserve this treatment, though it would have been easier to atone for if I had. No… my only wrongdoing is existing in the first place." He stopped, taking a shaky breath. "You see, my father—"
A sharp hiss from Saphira cut him off abruptly. Look!
And I shall leave you there. Geez, over 2,000 words! This is your lucky day, TSD fans!
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