A:N - A late happy third anniversary to this story. For those of you who may be wondering: when I write Nyos I imagine him to look, act and sound like Ray Stevenson (Titus Pullo) in the T.V series 'Rome'.

Chapter Twenty – Brewing War

Nary had a day gone past where Harry did not think the rapidly approaching war with the king would arrive on the doorstep of the Varden, parade itself around, and then start gutting people left, right and centre. It woke him in the nights, haunted his days and caused him to relay memories from the battle at Hogwarts, among many other violent confrontations with Death Eaters alike. He imagined the scenes of destruction continuously at these times – Carvahall was burning, Teirm was levelled... the list went on to include every landmark he had observed in the past few months.

Unlike Eragon and Murtagh, he had seen the horrors of war in their full devastation. While it was true that Eragon had been present for Yazuac, where the streets were littered with the corpses of the innocent, Harry had been no stranger to such an atrocity even then. Massacres at the Ministry, Gringotts and Hogwarts itself were some of the more prominent scenarios that repeated themselves onerously in his head each and every day.

So, when Brom had urgently shaken them awake a couple of nights after Eragon's fight with Arya, citing 'trouble', Harry was dressed so quickly it surprised even him. He also donned his sword, but left the bow and quiver at their resting place beside the bed.

Someday, he thought. Someday I'll take the time to learn how to shoot that bloody thing. But not today, I think...

Eragon quickly followed his example, but even as he knew the severity of the situation he couldn't repress a stifled yawn. Harry cast an aguamenti charm at him as a makeshift alarm, and Eragon nodded in thanks, before wiping the water off of his face. They waited until Murtagh joined them, before departing. Harry casually held out his arm and Aru pounced onto his shoulder, where he perched above everybody like an attentive, bubbly gargoyle.

Kreacher still hadn't awoken after two nights of lying unconscious, so besides ensuring he was fed and watered somewhat awkwardly, there was nothing more Harry could do. He departed the cave with a glance over his shoulder. He had left a note on Kreacher's chest telling him to eat and drink as much as he wanted if he awoke, but to wait for Harry to return unless it wasn't safe, in which case he should leave immediately. Otherwise, he would still be asleep and there should be no problems.

Orik was waiting for the group near Tronjheim's main gates. Harry liked the dwarf. He was friendly, spoke no nonsense and displayed an intelligence that seemed to surpass many dwarves for their inability to care about other races. Orik wasn't as self-centred – he genuinely seemed to care about others, and was proud to be a member of the Varden. He took after his liege lord well; the trio had met the king the day after Arya had tested Eragon. Harry favoured Hrothgar well enough, but found that he didn't command the same kind of respect that Ajihad did. Then again, that wasn't entirely his fault, despite his slightly big head. The division of the clans was asinine when one considered the terse situation the land was embroiled in.

"What's happening?" Brom asked immediately as Saphira landed. Harry wordlessly disabled the featherlight charms and listened closely.

Orik shook his head. "I can't say. Ajihad is holding an emergency meeting. King Hrothgar and Jörmundur will be there."

Brom swore. "Jörmundur is in charge of the army," he informed them quietly, as Orik began to lead them swiftly towards Ajihad's study. "If he's there then..."

"We're going to be attacked," Harry concluded, feeling his heart beat a little faster. This wouldn't be anything like he had ever before seen, either. Swordplay was much more imprecise and nasty than any wizard's duel. Death would doubtless be dealt out in droves.

Brom nodded, hurrying to keep pace with the surprisingly agile dwarf, who didn't look back. "Gentlemen, now is the time to bring out your best, most serious sides. Do not hesitate if you have an idea that may save our hides – hearing everything is paramount to doing anything. But watch and listen closely. In battle you'll have to follow orders. Harry, what can you tell me about Du Vrangr Gata?"

Harry had taken command of the group of magicians officially only yesterday. From what he had seen, the bulk of the group were relatively weak in the arcane arts. Very few could speak more than a dozen sentences in the Ancient Language, and those who could were limited from obscure religious beliefs. That had annoyed him. Having to rely on an ineffective cluster of half-assed magic weavers would be detrimental to any chance of victory. The only one he really trusted to make any difference was Trianna, but even she couldn't compare to the likes of Brom, Eragon and himself.

"Very little. Over a third specialise in healing rather than combat. I've only started basic training in incantations and controlling the flow of magic, but..."

"But you still need to practice yourself," Brom said. "Don't be ashamed. If they can make even the slightest difference it may have a huge effect on the outcome of this battle. I have a dozen words the two of you must learn before anything happens, but that needs to wait until after this council. I won't repeat them in other company."

Eragon exchanged a glance with Harry. That sounded quite suspicious. "What do you think? I'm assuming these are powerful ways of killing."

"I concur," Saphira replied. "Perhaps with such power that Brom does not wish anyone else to know of them."

"I could do with Nyos' help," Harry admitted as they stopped outside the door to Ajihad's study. "But I still don't know where the hell he is."

"I've heard tales of an intimidating man getting drunk at the local tavern and starting fights over simple matters," Orik said. "I only know because even my kind is wary of this stranger."

Murtagh scoffed. "That sounds like him."

"If it is he'd better sober up," Harry said firmly. "Orik, could you please send a messenger to find him?"

Orik nodded. "I shall. Ajihad is waiting inside. I'll be with you shortly, in that case."

Brom didn't bother knocking, but simply swung the door open and strode inside impatiently. The others followed suit, finding a forlorn atmosphere. Hrothgar, Arya, Ajihad and an imposing, ebony man who could only be Jörmundur stood around his table, which was covered by a map of the area and plans for the city.

"What news?" Brom asked, striding to the table and skipping the pleasantries.

"The worst kind," Ajihad said. "A dwarven runner managed to intercept a communication between two Urgals only an hour ago. Whilst he couldn't understand everything that was said, the message was clear: an army is approaching this city."

"We've expected that," Brom nodded fiercely. "From above or below?"

"Below."

"Damn it!"

"What's the problem?" Harry asked. "If the tunnels are the only way to access the city, why not block them off entirely?"

"We can't do that!" King Hrothgar exclaimed. "If we block the entrances they'll start digging in random locations, which could threaten the safety of this entire city from right beneath us!"

Harry started, blinking. "'Beneath us'? I'm sorry, but are you saying this city is spread out across volcanic fault lines? That's insane!"

"Have a care, Harry," Ajihad said dangerously. "You're addressing a king, remember. And what are 'volcanic fault lines', exactly?"

"To hell with decorum!" Harry exclaimed furiously. "This is a time for action, not talking!"

"Harry's right," Brom said quickly, trying to stem any heated arguing. "This construction error could cost us all our lives. But that doesn't matter. We need to think of another solution, and quickly too. Ideas?" he asked the room at large.

"We've already decided upon a course of action," Ajihad said, motioning Hrothgar. "We're going to focus our efforts and drive them into the three central tunnels by blocking the extraneous ones. This will force them to approach from that direction without wasting time digging, and it should keep the city out of harm's way. We have to destroy them in Farthen Dur, or else the entire dwarven population is at risk within the Beor Mountains."

"What of their army, sir?" Jörmundur queried. "I can't plan our defence without knowing how large our enemy is. And are the king's soldiers with them?"

"Our survival rests on those questions," Ajihad grumbled. "If Galbatorix has reinforced the Urgals with his own soldiers we don't stand a chance, even with two Riders on our side. We'll be overwhelmed."

"He won't have," Brom shook his head. "It's only been two days since Surda fell. His forces wouldn't have reached the mountains in that time, and if he pushed them to do so they'll be dropping on their feet. But he'll probably have sent Durza as the Urgals' commander, and that's trouble we've yet to imagine."

"Where have they gathered?" Murtagh asked curiously. "They must have a base of operations if they've been migrating towards the mountains all year."

"Here," Hrothgar indicated, tapping a spot on the map several leagues from Tronjheim. "It is an abandoned city known as Orthíad, but we suspect the Urgals are calling it 'Ithrö Zhâda' these days. From here they can march directly towards us. The dwarves inside the tunnels this far out are mainly eccentric recluses, so we are fortunate to have received any warning at all."

"That dwarf may have saved us all," Eragon said. "He's a hero."

"If we survive," Brom emphasised sharply. "What do you need for this plan? I personally recommend relocating our new wards to focus upon these three tunnels alone. They'll take a while to break through, giving archers the chance to shoot them down."

"A good idea," Ajihad nodded. "Anything else?"

Harry stroked his somewhat wispy beard thoughtfully. "Describe to me the earth surrounding these tunnels."

Ajihad was puzzled. "Whatever for?"

"If the rock is malleable at all, I can try to force my way below with magic and block their entrance. In short, I could create a makeshift trench hundreds of feet deep, depending on the type of rock. Unless they can jump twenty feet they'll have no chance of getting across. If we douse the entire thing in oil and use magic to set it alight..."

"Excellent!" Jörmundur said, pleased. "That would be a hefty obstacle to conquer, but I suggest you make sure this is possible beforehand."

"I will."

"Do not venture too deeply," Ajihad warned. "There's no telling if you could cause any damage to the city with this action by weakening the tunnels. The entire area is built upon hundreds of them."

"I'll be careful," Harry promised. "I also want to ask permission for leaving Aru behind when this begins."

Aru gave a start on his shoulder, seeming hurt. He looked at him with sparkling eyes. "Harry?"

"You can't fight, Aru," Harry said sadly. "You're too young, and I can't fight openly if I'm concerned for you. I'm sure Brom would agree."

"I'm afraid he's right," Brom admitted. "I'm almost hesitant to throw any of these three and Saphira into an open battle themselves, but we have no choice."

"So be it," Ajihad said gravely.

"I must object to this!" Hrothgar said angrily. "We need every chance of victory to be in place, and Harry's dragon could be a lynchpin in this battle!"

"With all due respect," Harry said lowly, "Arucane is still a baby. Would you throw your own child into war, my lord?"

"Of course I wouldn't," Hrothgar replied testily. "But dragons are neither humans, dwarves nor any other creatures known to the world. They are unique and rejoice in killing."

Before Harry could reply, Saphira opened her jaws and unleashed a furious roar directly in their ears, causing him to wince as the sound penetrated his eardrums. It was tough for her to fit inside the study at all, but she somehow managed to stand upright and stretch her wings slightly, imposing her huge frame upon them all. Hrothgar took a step back.

"Listen to me, little man," she said with vicious contempt. "We sons and daughters of the sky take only the same joy your kind do in battle. We experience adrenaline as you do, and feel the need to fight and kill for survival as you do. But, unlike my hunts – which are still for survival – I do not crave blood. I am not a monster. I want peace. Remember that, or maybe I will start to thirst for blood. Dwarven blood."

"Saphira!" Eragon exclaimed, horrified.

"What?" Saphira snapped, shifting her gaze to him. "I won't apologise for that."

"Enough of this!" Brom roared, calling the heated talk to a halt. "All of you shut your mouths! King or not, I will not tolerate you threatening my charges," Brom told Hrothgar, eyes narrowed.

"That was no threat," Hrothgar retorted. "But I understand your concern... obviously I will not contest Ajihad's decision to leave the younger dragon behind."

"His name is Aru, or Arucane to you," Harry said stiffly. "Please try to remember that in case you annoy him, my lord." He felt his respect for the dwarven king drop swiftly with each passing moment in this conversation.

Although Brom sighed, any retorts were stilled as the door behind them was thrust open. Orik entered, followed by Nyos. Harry gagged slightly at the stench of alcohol he brought with him. His appearance was more unkempt than ever, but he seemed... sober? That was strange.

"Good God, man," Harry said drearily. He quickly withdrew his wand and cast aguamenti again, before following up with an air-freshening charm he had discovered a while ago.

"My family is dead," Nyos said simply, ignoring him, although his voice cracked noticeably. "I've been mourning them since realising I couldn't scry either my wife or son, but I don't want to hear your condolences!"

He raised his voice at the end, shouting down the utterances of 'sorry' from around the room. "I've been going through hell, but now I know how to avenge them – by killing every single bastard fighting for the king. I won't be touching that drink again. I only want to dine on that son of a whore's bones now."

"Well... I applaud your enthusiasm," Ajihad said hesitantly. "But... I don't know how to respond to that."

"He's kidding," Harry said, rolling his eyes. Why did people have to be so damned slow half of the time?

"I see..."

"No, I'm just very angry," Nyos said, a murderous glint in his eyes. "But I want you to know, Ajihad, that I don't blame you. It wouldn't have made a difference if I had been there, and even if you told me I would never have made it in time. I beg your forgiveness. It was unjust of me to act so rudely before."

"You have it," Ajihad said, inclining his head.

"How the hell are you not drunk?" Murtagh asked suddenly.

"Strong liver."

"You reek of ale!"

"Some idiot spilled his drink over me. In fairness, I didn't mean to concuss him afterwards. I healed him straight after," he added quickly, still dripping water onto the floor.

Hrothgar cleared his throat. "You were a general under the king, were you not?"

"For all of several days, your grace. I was a captain for the most part, fighting for my family's safety," Nyos explained.

"I see. Well, I am sure we can expect you to be of great help in this scenario. Correct?"

Nyos nodded. "I'll fight until my dying breath."

"Jörmundur?" Ajihad asked simply, shooting him a quick glance.

Jörmundur nodded. "I'm sure I could use an experienced officer leading the men into battle, if you're up for the job."

"I'll go wherever you put me, but yes, I can lead men. I may seem crazy at times, but I have a level head in combat and look for the safety of my troops above anything," Nyos said calmly.

"Jörmundur, take him and have him... err... cleaned up," Ajihad said, scrutinising his dirty clothes with a grimace. "Give him equipment, and ensure he can do what he says. If he can, introduce him to the men as a new captain. Then do your best to ready the army itself as quickly as possible. We may not have even four hours."

"Yes, sir!" Jörmundur said, bowing slightly. The two men quickly departed.

"A queer character, that one," Hrothgar said.

"Aye, but a good man, sir," Brom replied with more respect than before. "If there's nothing else I'll take my leave. These three need to get used to wearing and fighting with armour."

"There's something else," Harry said quietly. All eyes turned to him.

"What is it?" Ajihad asked, narrowing his eyebrows at Harry's grave look.

"The civilians. They have to be evacuated. Now."

"I'm afraid it's too late for that," Hrothgar said, shaking his head. "They could not reach any of my kin's cities before battle is joined, and if we lose they would be run down by the Urgals."

"You misunderstand, your grace," Harry said, struggling with the last two words. "This war has yet to fully kick itself off. Surda has been all but crushed except for small pockets of resistance, and King Orrin is dead. Galbatorix will concentrate upon these mountains solely now that he controls everything from Aberon to Gil'ead. That leaves only one safe harbour in the entire land, and even it won't be safe for very long if we fall here tonight: Du Weldenvarden."

"What are you suggesting?" Hrothgar asked, frowning.

"We only have one chance for survival," Harry declared clearly. He took in the faces around him, wondering how this was going to go down. "We have to evacuate everyone – and I mean everyone, not just those in Tronjheim – to the north. The forest is the best place for them."

"You've got to be joking!" Hrothgar exclaimed. "My kind would never consent to this! It's absurd!"

"Absurdity is an abstract term for describing what you can't comprehend," Harry retorted. "You know, I know, and everybody here knows that if we remain, the king will wipe us out. But with the elven wards we have a chance to survive a little longer. We have to leave. It's not an option. Your race has to throw aside their petty squabbles and fight as one, my lord. You can either band together and make a decision, or be destroyed. There are no other choices. If we stay here we will die."

"I'm afraid my queen could not accommodate you all," Arya said lowly, speaking for the first time. "Your people are too many for us to maintain. If you were to travel to Du Weldenvarden, you would have to find a suitable location to create new homes for yourselves. We would have no objections to that course of action, however."

Harry shared an understanding look with Brom, who nodded at him slowly.

"Ajihad," he said, "if we win this battle I'm taking Eragon, Harry and the egg and getting the hell out of here. I know for a fact Harry is damned right in what he's saying, even if you don't want to admit it. Staying here borders on the suicidal and clinically insane in the grand scheme of things. Galbatorix could storm this mountain single-handedly if Durza fails and annihilate us without any trouble whatsoever. He cannot breach the elven wards, meanwhile. The Varden has to leave or pay the price."

"You would withdraw your support?" Ajihad asked, seeming disappointed.

"Of course not. I have to leave anyway. These two have to be trained by the elves – there's only so much I can do. That, and the egg must be taken somewhere safe. Where is safer than Ellesméra? Can either of you think of an alternative solution?" he asked both Ajihad and Hrothgar together, the two of whom shared a glance.

"I don't believe we could," Ajihad sighed. "But this will take a lot of work. The elves won't do anything if they don't know Arya is safe, and the dwarven clans will try to oppose this at every turn."

"You have to make decisions for your own people," Brom said pointedly. "Hrothgar, if the dwarves choose to stay here, which is wholly your right, of course, then you're on your own. We won't stand for anymore lollygagging – you're either with us, or you're a part of the problem."

Harry realised suddenly that Brom was using his plan. He and Ajihad were trying to convince Hrothgar to usurp the clans! Oh, this could turn very nasty if they weren't careful...

Hrothgar cracked his knuckles irritably. "I'll confer with the clans to consider this, but it will have to wait until-"

"No! You have to tell them!" Brom said furiously.

Harry knew that was the most undemocratic thing he had ever heard, but it was necessary for the time being. He shuddered as he thought of politics. True, he knew little about those in the Muggle world, but he did know about dictatorships. Everybody on Earth did. These people obviously did not understand how absolutism would lead to another Galbatorix, even if Hrothgar wasn't an evil person. He would have to make sure this line of thinking was severely limited, in case anything unjust was to happen.

"Brom, I can't distort centuries of tradition on a whim! If I try to command them to do anything I'll lose this crown so quickly it'll make my head spin. I support your decision to leave, but the dwarves will have to wait a little longer. That's my final word," Hrothgar declared in a tone that booked no argument.

Ajihad sighed. "Very well, your grace. I hope you know what you're doing. Brom, I consent to this plan. Relay a message to Nasuada if you would. She's to be in charge of this exodus. The people are only to take what they need to survive, and are to start evacuating immediately. We have no time to waste. Also tell her if both you and I are to fall she will take temporary control of the Varden until the queen can help choose someone permanent."

Brom frowned at that. "Are you sure she's capable?"

"Certain."

"Very well," Brom nodded. "Write me a note. You three, come along," he said, indicating Harry, Eragon and Murtagh.

Brom led them to the Varden's primary armoury after sending a messenger to deliver Ajihad's note to Nasuada. What they saw nearby was simply incredible. Hundreds of warriors were frantically dressing themselves in layers of thick, steel armour and snatching a hoard of deadly iron-forged swords for men, and axes for dwarves. Harry didn't know much about armour, but what they wore appeared to be heavy, cumbersome and ultimately tiring. But it also provided the finest protection available. The warriors quickly fell into formation at the direction of their captains, before moving out to barricade the city and man their positions inside the fortress blocking the civilians from the tunnels.

"Brom, what of enemy magicians?" Murtagh asked uncertainly. "How do I fight them if they only need to wave their hand and roast me alive?"

"I'll deal with that," Brom said dismissively, absent-mindedly rubbing the ring he wore. "You three will all be kept alongside me in this combat, although separation is inevitable. If that happens don't panic. Remember your training, keep a level head, and fight as defensively as possible. Don't make any rash decisions that could cost you your life. And for the sake of the gods, Eragon, Harry, don't expand your energy by using magic continuously. Harry, do you have a plan for that wand? You can't carry it, a sword and shield into battle at once."

"I had an idea," Harry said, swiftly walking to keep up. They stepped around contingents of foot soldiers and archers alike; Brom appeared to be searching for someone in particular. "If I attach it to my left underarm with magic it'll be protected by the shield, then all I have to do is point my arm to cast."

"Watch your instep," Brom warned. "Your shield will be away from your body when you straighten your arm."

"I will."

"Who takes care of collapsing the tunnels?" Murtagh asked.

"Eragon, you help Arya with that once we have you fitted for armour," Brom ordered. "Harry, I want Du Vrangr Gata where you think they should be. It's your decision to make."

"Right," Harry nodded. He opened the link he had established with Trianna yesterday. Their time together had been greatly enjoyable, although he hadn't attempted to show too much interest too quickly. She had showed him various places around the city, including the dwarven library, and had introduced him to the cadre of magicians who would be under his command. It had been tough going, earning their trust, but a small display of the patronus charm and his prowess with the Ancient Language had been enough to win over their trust.

"Trianna? Can you hear me?"

"Yes, Harry. What's happening?"

"We're going to be attacked by an Urgal army sometime soon," he said, and she radiated worry and confusion in reply. "I want you to organise the outfit the way we planned – half for combat, half for healing, based on their strengths. Each one fighting will be assigned a company to guard, and the healers will be kept in reserve, away from the front lines. They'll be attacking the three dominant tunnels leading to the outside of Farthen Dur."

"Understood. What about you?" she asked with concern.

Harry hesitated. "I'll go where they put me," he said simply. "Aru won't be fighting, so he can stay with you if there are no objections."

"With me?"

"You're the best healer we have. You can do more good there than anywhere near the vanguard," Harry said firmly. He didn't want her to get hurt either, but that wasn't something to repeat. She would think he believed her weak and make the decision for herself. As it stood, she wasn't happy about it, but agreed reluctantly.

"Good." Harry looked at Arucane, studying the little green dragon closely. He wasn't much larger than a dog at this point. Holding him on his shoulder wasn't even strenuous, which meant he was far too small to be involved with any fighting. Harry asked gently: "can you go and find Trianna?"

Aru looked back at him, and gave a nod. He was beginning to string together longer sentences than before, but it was still an ongoing task. "Yes. I can give her some of my power to help. Then I can be of use."

Harry smiled, feeling their connection grow even stronger. "Thank you, my friend... as long as you're safe I'll be happy."

"The same goes for you. If you are hurt I'll run into battle and kill them all until I find you. Did you mean what you said?"

"What's that?" Harry asked curiously.

"That you think of me like family?"

Harry remembered suddenly what he had said to Hrothgar about 'his own child'. He hadn't even meant to say it, but it did come naturally, and he sure as hell meant it. "Of course I did. I care about you... it would break my heart to lose you."

Aru nuzzled his shoulder gently with his head, before perching himself on Harry's arm and leaping off. He spread his wings in mid-air and began to glide towards Trianna's presence. The army appeared heartened to see him, and even more so Saphira, who flew impressively high above. Aru gave a miniature roar, and Saphira responded by bellowing confidence into the hearts of those present. Harry smiled at the pair of them.

For the first time in his life, Harry truly felt like a knight from Merlin's time. Then again, he had never been dressed this way before. Brom had led them to a blacksmith's for the army, whom he had instructed to set aside some fine armour for the four of them. The choices weren't great, but they were accepted without complaint. He, Eragon and Murtagh were now garbed in the sturdiest plate armour the Varden could muster, atop a thin coat of chainmail. On their heads rested open-faced steel helms, although that was reinforcing two additional layers consisting of a matching coif for the pre-mentioned chainmail, and a leather cap to add a little additional comfort. That being said, this stuff must have added at least forty pounds to their total weight, a severely limiting factor.

That wasn't the end of it, either. Iron bracers and thick, leather greaves were an additional feature, as were the mail-backed gloves. Metal leggings were out of the question for the sake of manoeuvrability. Finally, they were handed a round shield each. Harry used a sticking charm on his left arm, and then attached his wand so that it was facing down towards his hand. It was unusual, but he would get used to it soon enough. He reinforced this with a leather strap that twisted tightly around his forearm several times before culminating in a metallic catch, ensuring it couldn't move but with his own muscles. The shield had a smooth, outlaid handle attached to the inside, with indents for the fingers to clench tightly and sported an exterior emblazoned with an oak tree. That done, he had to admit he looked damned intimidating with Aiedail strapped around his waist.

"Very impressive," Brom grinned, nodding in appreciation at the trio, all three similarly garbed. He himself was wearing a lighter selection, focusing primarily on the leather and discarding the helm entirely.

"Won't you be an open target?" Harry questioned, worried. He knew lightening charms would have a negative effect in this case - the body would be unable to comprehend its own agility due to the sheer weight of the magic, and that could have permanent effects upon his muscles. It was, ironically, the weight or sink.

Brom tapped his temple with an armoured forefinger. "Trust me on this, Harry. If they can hit me, they deserve to. Boys, or should I say 'men'... remember your training. I've taught you all I know. Don't be afraid to fight dirty, because the Urgals will all do the same. Eragon, I recommend fighting alongside Saphira. You won't be able to reach most enemies riding her. You and Harry are powerful magicians, so you'll be called upon by others to help out at times. Respond to orders immediately if you can, but all three of you use your initiative. Keep your heads level, and don't take chances."

They nodded obediently, and not for the first time Harry was glad Brom would be there to help.

"Brom, this feels a little loose," Murtagh said, twisting his shoulders.

"Get it seen to," he said, and Murtagh went to speak with the blacksmith. "Eragon. Harry. A word."

Brom led them outside the makeshift tent. The din was simply incredible. Four thousand humans and over five thousand dwarves scurried to and fro across the open areas between Farthen Dur and the tunnels, relaying messages and carrying weapons. The clanking of metallic armour was deafening. When they found a secluded spot nearby, Brom looked at them closely.

"What I am about to tell you is information that cannot extend beyond the two of you, until I see fit to tell the third Rider as well. Understood?"

"Of course."

"Yeah."

"Okay, then... there are a dozen words I want you to memorise before this battle begins, and they could save your lives if you employ them correctly. As you both know, the enemy will be warded by their personal magicians, as will our own forces. I don't want you to concern yourselves with that. You need to hold your power in reserve for fighting, especially if that red-headed terror shows himself.

"What you need to know is that these wards must be overcome before the Ancient Language is effective. Harry, you have an obvious advantage here," he stated, and Harry nodded. "But still, the wards may still deflect or weaken your spells significantly, so take care. In order for the Ancient Language to be of use, those wards must be destroyed. I've taught you both a little about mental combat, but not as much as I would have hoped. Use that. Defend your minds. Going for the source is the easiest way to disrupt the wards. If you kill the magicians, you can destroy the Urgals they protect with ease."

"How?" Harry asked, shrugging his shoulders. "Unless you expect us to use up all of our energy-"

"That won't be necessary," Brom quietly interrupted. He hesitated. "What I am about to teach you are twelve spells. They are known as the 'spells of death' as they kill without any noticeable drain on your magical reserves. I'll explain why later. All you need are the words, and then you can kill each Urgal simultaneously by attacking their minds with the spell. An even easier solution is to cast the magic at the magician himself, and the minds he is connected with will also die."

"Why didn't you tell us about these words sooner?" Eragon demanded.

"There was no need," Brom said flatly. "As Harry would tell you, respecting life is important. You can't kill with such ease without learning the difficult methods beforehand or else you may take it for granted."

"I would never do that," Eragon said quietly. "And nor would Harry."

"It doesn't matter any longer," Brom said, shaking his head. "In a battle like this you have to kill with as little energy as possible. So, here are the words."

After Brom had mentally relayed the words to the both of them and ensured they would remember each one, they returned to Murtagh and the blacksmith.

"Ah! I almost forgot," the burly blacksmith said quickly. "That dwarf Orik left this for you. Said it was a gift from his king."

"What is it?" Murtagh asked, examining the rows of metal plates upon a nearby table.

"It's dragon armour," Eragon realised. "Saphira!"

"I'm here," she said immediately, landing outside. Even dragons seemed to appreciate fine tools of war. With help from Brom, Eragon began to attach the armour, a difficult task. It left her spikes and legs bare, but covered her torso, tail and most of her head.

"How do you feel?" Harry asked Murtagh quietly, watching the pair.

"Like I'm ready to prove myself," Murtagh replied. They looked at each other, and then clasped arms, earning a clink of metal. "Good luck, my friend. May we all still be standing by tomorrow morning."

"And you," Harry nodded.

An explosion shook the ground nearby, and the forces of the Varden were startled, already being on-edge.

"What the hell was that?!" Brom demanded, running over towards the source of the noise.

"Apparently a bombarda spell makes a lot of noise when it collides with solid rock," Harry frowned. "I hadn't expected that."

"I said 'block the tunnels', not blow a hole in the damned mountain!"

"I'm being careful," Harry protested. "Eragon's method wasn't as effective as we'd hoped."

"Brom, report!" Jörmundur shouted, running to their position frantically.

"False alarm," Brom said, waving a dismissive hand. "Rest easy."

Jörmundur rolled his eyes, panting for breath. Muttering to himself, he turned and walked back to his battalion. The army had been divided into three, one for each tunnel, led by Ajihad, Hrothgar and Jörmundur respectively. Each held a mixture of dwarves and humans alike, armed with swords, axes and warhammers and sporting thick hauberks and plated chests.

"How many more are there to collapse?" Brom asked impatiently.

"That was the last one," Eragon told him.

"Good. Harry, get working on that trench of yours. Eragon, you and Saphira go and get food. I've left some out over there," he said, pointing.

Eragon followed his directions and walked towards a tent a little away. It was unusual, seeing such a huge assortment of soldiers gathered together, but being able to distantly see a mass exodus from the city into the valleys to the east simultaneously. They would head through the mountain range, led by Nasuada, Ajihad's daughter, and any dwarven warriors they happened to join from other cities. They looked understandably forlorn.

"Stand back," Harry instructed. When Brom did so, he pointed his arm several feet in front of him. "Diffindo!"

He poured more wand-fuelled energy into the spell than ever before, allowing it to crack the rock beneath his feet with relative ease. After splitting it into a semicircular shape hundreds of metres long in full view of all three tunnels, he slowly began to excavate, before thinking of a much simpler solution. Shutting his eyes, he focused on an all-new level of power and concentration known only to him since becoming a Dragon Rider, and reached for the magic at his core. He waved his wand in a complicated series of poses, and was privy to a series of astonished cries from the gathered men.

Opening his eyes, he grinned, finding that the massive chunk of rock he had levitated out from the trench had vanished, banished by a simple spell amplified to increase its effective power dramatically. It had used up some of the energy absorbed from Galbatorix's wards, but it had been worth it.

Brom's eyes were wider than Harry had ever seen them. "H-how deep is that trench?" he asked, staring into the crevasse anxiously.

"About two hundred feet," Harry told him. "I hit some harder material down there I couldn't dig past. Volcanoes tend to have solidified lava beneath them. It could be that, or some type of metal. Whatever the case, this is as far as I can go without putting the city in jeopardy."

"Excellent work," declared a deep voice. Harry looked around to find Ajihad standing there, fully armoured and carrying an ivory sword. He nodded in thanks.

"It'll keep them at bay for a while. It's rounded towards the cliff base so they can't escape around it. They have to go over it. It's a pity it can't be wider than ten feet. Any more than that and the entire area could sink into the earth," Harry declared.

"I understand," Ajihad said. "This fight was always going to be won with swords, I daresay. I'll have my men set it alight now. Are Du Vrangr Gata in place?"

"Yes. Half for the army, half for treating the wounded."

"Is that wise?" Ajihad quickly asked.

"Most aren't real fighters at all. They would only get themselves killed, and we'd be several healers fewer," Harry explained.

"Very well. The twins are to be relaying information to you and Eragon from me, and so on. If you find anything unusual report it immediately. One is inside the dragonhold, observing the action."

"I'd rather have them fighting down her," Harry said unhappily. "As much as I dislike them, both are more powerful than any member of Du Vrangr Gata by far."

"Regardless, this is where they are," Ajihad said firmly. "Gentlemen, I suggest you prepare yourselves. Oh, your friend is leading a company in my battalion. He will be a great commander." He gave both a quick nod, before walking back towards the centre.

"I wonder how that'll turn out," Harry muttered, raising his eyebrows.

"At this rate he'll be bloodthirsty," Brom replied. "I'll keep an eye out for him to make sure he isn't planning to kill everything in sight bare-handed, but I can't make any promises. He's a trained soldier. We all have to look out for ourselves and the ones around us. Which reminds me..."

Harry felt a surge of magical energy wash over him as Brom's mind connected with his own ever so briefly. He blinked. "What was that?"

"That, Harry, was me placing wards around you. I'll be doing the same for Eragon and Murtagh."

"But you don't have the strength for that!" Harry exclaimed.

"Don't concern yourself with me," Brom winked, astounding Harry. "This ring is named Aren. It was forged by the elves specially to hold vast amounts of power, like many crystals of the world. In my self-imposed exile I stored every last drop of power I could muster into its core each day, and now the extent of its energy is great."

"I didn't know you could store energy in crystals," Harry admitted, gazing at the sapphire. "My wand, sure... but that's impressive. Yet, how is that enough, in any case?"

"You'd be surprised at how much power can be spent after a hard day's work," Brom told him seriously. "By sitting on my ass all day I was able to spend that on the ring instead."

Harry laughed.

"Harry, I'm in position with a group of healers," came Trianna's voice. "Aru is here with me, ready to help."

"I'm glad to hear it," Harry said honestly. "Be careful."

"You too," Trianna said softly, and he received a mental image of her kissing him fiercely, causing him to blush. She laughed through the connection. "If we survive this you can experience that for real."

Harry stammered his thanks and ended the connection. He saw that Eragon had now rejoined them, accompanied by Arya. He cleared this throat to stifle the embarrassment. "Du Vrangr Gata is in position and awaiting orders. I think that's just about everything now."

"Almost," Eragon intoned, nodding towards the trench. Harry looked around and saw several dozen warriors douse the edges with oil, before casting a brief spell to set it on fire. He felt his face grow flushed from the heat as the flames rapidly spread, and the crackling of magical energy told him, to his relief, that the supersensory charm was finally working as it was supposed to.

Harry looked back. "I'm glad you're with us," he told Arya politely. "Maybe now you can finally see my abilities and call it your 'test'."

The ghost of a smile lifted her lips. "Maybe. But I doubt I will be able to watch out for you. If Durza appears he will want my head this time for escaping his grasp."

"Don't worry; he has to get through all of us first," Eragon said gently.

"And yet I must fight him," Arya declared, a fire in her slanted eyes that Harry hadn't seen before. It looked even more impressive with the flames behind him reflecting them as a mixture of green and orange. She looked determined, frightening even, given her regal blade and bow strapped across her armoured back.

"It could be too dangerous," Eragon warned, obviously concerned for her wellbeing.

"Who else can fight him?" Arya demanded. "I am not one of your weak females, human. I must kill him. It is my right, and a right no other can lay claim to. Would you deny me that privilege?"

Harry chuckled, causing her to look at him. He drew his sword and twirled it around, finding the whirling sounds of metal passing by his ears strangely comforting. He would have to kill untold amounts of the Urgals, and he looked forward to ending their miserable lives. For the safety of the innocent people fleeing, and Alagaësia in itself, it had to be done. And that also meant putting a sword through that bastard's heart.

"If you want to kill Durza, get in line, princess. If I find him... I'm taking him down, one way or another," Harry declared.

"Follow me," Brom ordered. "We need to fall in. Good fortune upon you all."

Above the assembled entourage of troops, Saphira bellowed out her challenge to the hidden, approaching Urgal army, and the soldiers raised their swords and shields, shouting incoherent insults at the top of their voices and screaming for the Varden. Sigils were waved frantically in the air.

We're not alone, Harry thought whilst observing them, the light of fortitude in his mind. Let's do this.