Hey! I'm so sorry for the last short chapter, but we're moving forward here! I'm not Chrissy P., of course, so don't think of me as him.
After both Murtagh and Eragon forced Tania to at least drink and eat something before they set off, they rode at a pace they all would have thought impossible a week before. Eragon apparently still felt a bit sniped at Murtagh and refused to talk to him the whole journey. Tania made sure that both Ophelia and Saphira pestered him to see a little sense—which they obviously did very well, as he kept casting her annoyed glances, but he stubbornly refused to apologize.
Leagues fell away as if wings were attached to their feet. They turned south, between two outstretched arms of the Beor Mountains. The arms were shaped like pincers about to close, their tips a day's travel apart—yet the distance seemed less because of the mountains' size. It was as if they were in a valley made for giants.
When they stopped for the day, they ate dinner in silence, Eragon refusing to look up from his food. Afterward, he said tersely, "I'll take first watch." Murtagh nodded and lay on his blankets with his back to Eragon while Tania settled close to Saphira.
You realize it's childish to ignore him like that, she told Eragon.
I know, and I'm sorry; I'm… I'm confused, he answered. Tania could hear the strained tones in his mental voice that he hadn't let through in his physical voice.
Well… just try not to blame him for quite so much. This is how he lives. It's how I lived. For ten years, at that. It's hardly his fault that his father did something, Tania said softly.
Yes, I know. Do you have any idea who his father might be? Eragon asked.
No, Tania lied. She pulled away the mental connection, rolling over in her blankets and closing her eyes.
The truth was, she knew exactly who Murtagh's father was.
In the morning Saphira took off with both Eragon and Arya. Tania sighed as she did, knowing that Eragon probably needed some time alone with Saphira.
With nothing else to do, Tania pointed out the various birds that flew above them—although once or twice, she was fairly certain Ophelia had disguised herself as one—and made small talk with Murtagh. He seemed to visibly relax at her gentle chatter.
Finally, Tania asked, "Are you going to tell him?"
Murtagh gave her a wary look that clearly said, I know what you're talking about but I'm not sure you do. "Tell him what?"
Tania turned her head to look him square in the eye. "You tell me. Ever since we met you, you've been giving Zar'roc looks as if it'd bite you if you got too close. And then just recently, you're saying that the Varden wouldn't accept you because of something your father did—I don't suppose that would be joining Galbatorix?"
He gave her an appraising glance. "It is."
She rolled her eyes. "Well? Am I right in my assumption of who it is?"
"What would you do if you were?" Murtagh challenged.
Tania raised an eyebrow. "Lecture you for not saying so first, then smack the Varden for being so senseless about it," she replied.
He barked out a laugh. "Then you don't have clue who my father is."
"Oh, really? I believe he was a Rider, had a red-bladed double-handed longsword, as well as a red dragon, was Galbatorix's right hand man… need I go on?" Tania asked.
Murtagh raised his eyebrows. "No." Then he sighed. "But you are right. When did you figure it out?"
She smiled ruefully. "When you told Eragon who the sword originally belonged to—or, at least, I'd guessed that you'd had a bad run-in with him. The sword, too, I imagine," she said drily. Tania continued, "It was when you were saying the Varden wouldn't accept you for something your father did that the pieces came together."
He snorted. "I was going to tell you then. But a certain army of Urgals stopped me."
"Hmm. Yes, they have a tendency to shape the destinies of innocent passerby. They're what brought me down from the north, you know," Tania informed him.
"Really?" he asked curiously.
She nodded. "Found a pile of dead Urgals with Galbatorix's crest. Even in the north, they have stories of the Rider King, menace of the South."
Murtagh nodded. "Found them and decided to go south to see what they were doing there?" he asked.
Tania laughed. "No, they scared me so much I had no idea where I was going," she admitted.
That made him laugh in surprise. "You? Scared? Now that is not something I can easily see."
"You weren't the one with a pile of dead Urgals on your territory wearing the crest of a fairytale villain."
"Territory?"
"Wild animal tendencies. I'd been living rogue for over ten years, it becomes a mindset."
"Apparently," he said drily. He looked up as Saphira landed in front of them. "What now?" he asked curtly.
"The Urgals are overtaking us," said Eragon. He pointed back toward the column's camp.
"How far do we still have to go?" Murtagh asked.
"Normally…? I would guess another five days. At the speed we've been traveling, only three. But unless we get there tomorrow, the Urgals will probably catch us, and Arya will certainly die."
"She might last another day," Murtagh pointed out.
"We can't count on it," Eragon objected. "The only way we can get to the Varden on time is if we don't stop for anything, least of all sleep."
Murtagh laughed bitterly. "How can you expect to do that? We've already gone days without adequate sleep. Unless Riders are made of different stuff than us mortals, you're as tired as I am. We've covered a staggering distance, and the horses, in case you haven't noticed, are ready to drop. Another day of this might kill us all."
"Hold on a moment," Tania said, raising her hand. "Could Saphira maybe give the horses some of her strength?" And Ophelia, too? she added mentally.
You do not even have to ask me, little one, Ophelia told her, and suddenly all three of the horses were rasing their drooping heads slightly. Eragon looked surprised at the offer. "That could work," he said.
"And what about us?" Murtagh challenged. In answer, Tania grabbed his hand, feeling some of her own strength flow into his. He blinked at her, surprised, but she had already turned her head to face the front. "Let's go," she said. "Sleep or no sleep, we'll see you to the Varden*."
With newfound determination, they struggled to distance themselves from the Urgals, yet their pursuers continued to creep nearer. At nightfall the monsters were a third closer than they had been that morning. As fatigued eroded their strength, they took turns sleeping on the horses, while whoever was awake led the animals in the right direction.
Eragon relied heavily on Arya's memories to guide them. Sometimes, he made mistakes, costing them precious time, but they gradually angled toward the foothills of the eastern arm of the mountains, looking for the valley that would lead them to the Varden. Midnight came and passed without any sign of it.
Well… yeah… Tania is… a slight Sue… but… Murtaghneedsafriendandneedsonedesperatelyandifyoucan'treadthisthentoobad.
*And yes, I know Murtagh originally said that.
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FF