Remember that this battle is only a preview of the one coming up towards the end. :)
Chapter Twelve: AttackThe sun rose all the same the next morning and they were on the brink of a battle. It was not the battle that the Imperial soldiers thought it was, because they had already lost. For Eragon, Roran, Murtagh, Katrina and Circe it was a battle against Galbatorix, a battle for freedom, and the tension in camp as they made and ate their breakfast could have been cut with a blade.
Last night, the elves' ambassadors, Vanir, Nari and Lifaen, had left after Eragon elaborated on their plan with promises in the ancient language to tell their brethren not to attack the Riders and the witch who was not human. To Eragon's displeasure, Vanir still didn't trust him. The young Rider didn't know what it was going to take to win the elf's loyalty. He could only hope that the belligerent elf would not turn against them in the future.
They sat around the campfire in silence as the soldiers scurried about preparing for battle. There was much to be done. Everything had to be in top order. Armor had to be shined and ready for wear; weapons had to be sharpened and in good working order. But these were the least of Eragon's and his companions' concerns. All eyes were on Circe that morning. Everyone, including Circe herself, was hoping that her magical abilities were enough to fool Galbatorix, the evil Rider King that he was.
Saphira, Thorn and Garrow weren't in much better shape. Even little Garrow knew of the coming perils. Saphira had taught him a lot since he was born a little over a month ago, but nothing could have prepared him for what was about to happen. Saphira and Thorn did their best to remind him of helpful battle strategies, but the youngling was not inclined to listen. He was looking forward to tearing Imperial soldiers apart limb by limb and too distracted to mind his elders.
After breakfast, Eragon went into his tent to make his final preparations for the coming battle. He donned a chain mail shirt and put the plate armor that was supplied to him by the Empire over top. Then, he took his elven bow and quiver and the new sword that Galbatorix had had made for him. He gazed at the weapon with disdain. He would have thrown in into Isenstar Lake if it hadn't been for its excellent quality and the fact that it was his only sword. What he wouldn't give to have Zar'roc in his hands again! Brom had given him that sword, but Murtagh had taken it back from him. It was his inheritance… their father Morzan's sword…
After he was ready for combat, Eragon went out to see Saphira and help her put on her dwarven dragon armor. It was lucky that they'd taken it with them when they went to rescue Katrina. If they hadn't, they wouldn't have it now and it had saved Saphira's life many times.
Are you ready, Saphira? Eragon asked. Today is the day we free ourselves from Galbatorix's shackles.
Well put, little one, she replied. This will be a day long remembered. It will go down in history as the day the Great Galbatorix was fooled by his servant's magic.
Eragon laughed. I just hope we haven't underestimated him and overestimated Circe. Galbatorix did steal every last drop of Suníl's power.
Well, I have faith in her, Saphira announced.
Wouldn't I have called the whole thing off if I didn't?
Once Saphira was ready, Eragon mounted her and they flew off to what would be the front lines of the fighting, where they were supposed to meet Roran, Murtagh and Circe. He knew for a fact that Roran had forbade Katrina to fly with him during the fighting. He also knew that she wasn't very happy about that.
They were all already assembled when Eragon and Saphira arrived. Roran was mounted on Garrow and the little dragon looked especially silly with the fully armored Roran on top of him. Thorn held both Murtagh and Circe, both wearing only chain mail. Eragon smiled at the sight of the two of them. It was obvious that Murtagh cared for Circe, though he'd never admit to it, and Eragon noticed how close the two sat on Thorn's back. He also noticed how Thorn and Saphira exchanged looks upon their arrival.
Eragon's eyes finally fell on Roran. "Do you have anything to say?" he asked.
"Why're you asking me?" Roran asked.
"You talent for motivational speaking?" Eragon reminded him.
Roran sighed. "I don't think we need it…" Eragon glared at him. "Aye… aye, all right," he said, giving in to Eragon's request. "Uh… Today we stand on the brink of war. But this war is no ordinary war. It cannot be won by sheer strength, but the victor shall be the more cunning. It does not involve fighting with weapons and killing your enemy, it involves trickery through magic. Today, we shall stand and fight against Galbatorix, an age-old foe of freedom, and we may fall at his evil hands. But if we do, however unlikely, we shall stand and fall honorably, like men, because we are everything Galbatorix is not."
A small moment of silence followed and then Murtagh smiled at his cousin and would have given him a pat on the back if they were standing next to each other. "Well done," he said.
Eragon nodded. "Aye," he said. "Well done."
Then their attention shifted to the mass of soldiers assembling behind them and then to the mass of elves on the horizon. Eragon flagged down the captain. "It is time," he said gravely.
The captain nodded. The three dragons rose into the air in a wondrous sight and charged at the elves on the horizon. Inspired by their commanders, the soldiers followed the Riders, unknowingly running to their own deaths.
Eragon watched as Roran and Murtagh simply flew around above the battle as they waited for the go ahead from Circe to attack the Imperials. However, Eragon was free from such restrictions, as he knew that Galbatorix could not scry him anyway and he did not need to wait for Circe's command. He and Saphira flew in low over the Imperial ranks, vaguely aware of elven arrows whizzing by them faster than a dragon could fly. Saphira grabbed several soldiers with her talons and threw them as far as she could.
That felt good, she said, watching them cry with fear as they were flung through the air.
Good, Eragon answered. You can do it as many times as you'd like.
Saphira made a purring sound as she picked up several more men in her huge claws and flung them back at the ground as quickly as she possibly could.
Eragon noticed that it wasn't long before Roran jumped into the fray. Circe must have been working quickly if she'd already faked his death to Galbatorix. That meant that all she had left to do was lie about Murtagh's and her own death and then her role would be fulfilled. After Murtagh joined with the elves, Eragon and Roran, the battle wouldn't last much longer.
And he was right. After making five or so more rounds of throwing soldiers around like toys, Saphira ascended into the sky and allowed Eragon to practice his skills with a bow and arrow. That only lasted a half an hour at most and then a small group of Galbatorix's soldiers was cowering together under a white flag of surrender. They were surrounded by elves with their leaders Vanir, Nari and Lifaen at the front.
Saphira was the first dragon to land, soon followed by Garrow. The elves made a space for them near the Empire's soldiers and Eragon slid down Saphira's back and approached Nari, Lifaen and Vanir. The three seemed to be waiting for his orders. Eragon tore off his helmet and looked from the elves to the soldiers.
"They need to be killed," the blue Rider told them simply.
Once again, Vanir disagreed with him. "It is unethical to kill men who have surrendered," he growled.
"Vanir…" Nari began, obviously tired with his companion's insubordination and stubbornness.
Eragon silenced him. He would handle this on his own. "It is vital to our plan," he explained. "They have seen what has transpired here. I cannot allow them to return to Galbatorix. They must be killed." Thorn landed nearby and Murtagh and Circe dismounted and started to come toward them.
Lifaen nodded and strung his bow, aiming at one man whose helmet had fallen off. The shot was of expert quality and should have cleanly killed its target, but an invisible force field around the man stopped it. The arrow's shaft broke from the head and feel harmlessly to the ground. The targeted soldier let out a deep sigh of relief.
A Lifaen stepped forward and examined the arrowhead in disbelief. "I've never seen the likes of this before," he said in astonishment. "This is magic I've never seen before in any elf or human!"
Eragon glared at Circe, approaching the group with Murtagh. He knew that she had cast this spell to save her precious soldiers. But then how had some of them been killed? She must have only protected special ones. Still, she'd interfered with their plan. "What have you done?" Eragon said, his voice low and dangerous.
"I told you that you couldn't just kill them like that," she answered, not at all disheveled by Eragon's accusations. She pulled her black hair behind her eyes and returned his gaze.
"It was a vital aspect of our plan!" Eragon reminded her.
"Don't worry," she replied coolly. "These ones won't interfere with our plan. Actually, they will be a powerful ally."
"What do you mean?" Eragon asked. "How are you going to keep them from Galbatorix?"
Circe smiled. "These are the men that are not truly loyal to Galbatorix. They hate him just like we do and only put themselves in his service to support their families and themselves. Keeping them from Galbatorix will be no problem. I figure they can take an oath in your ancient language and join the Varden's military forces. You'll need all the help you can get to vanquish the Rider King."
Eragon sighed. It too was a well thought out plan. He had to give her credit. "Did you know about this?" he asked Murtagh.
Murtagh nodded. "But not until she was casting it and we were already in the air," he clarified. "Who was I to stop the most powerful mage in Alagaësia?" He smiled down at Circe and then returned his attention to Eragon.
Eragon nodded and waved his hand to the elves. "Take them back to your camp and have them take oaths to the Varden in the ancient language. Then ship them off to Aberon."
"Of course, Shadeslayer," said Nari, turning with Vanir to round up the soldiers and take them back to camp.
As the ranks of the elven warriors dissolved and the Imperial troops were led off, Murtagh and Circe left the sight as well. Roran turned to leave, but one of the helmeted soldiers stopped him. "What is it?" Roran asked curiously. What reason did this soldier have for stopping him?
The 'soldier' pulled of his, or her, helmet. Roran gasped at his fiancée Katrina standing in front of him. "You thought I would be killed, Hmph!" she said with false anger and strode off toward their tent. Roran, shocked, had to run to catch up with her.
Eragon smiled at the two, and for a minute he was envious of their relationship. Then, he too turned to leave, only to be stopped by Lifaen. "What?" he asked, eager to get back to his tent and shed all of his heavy armor.
"It's Arya," he said, his voice serious. "She's here, right now, at Isenstar Lake. She was part of the battle. I think she came in hopes of seeing you."
Eragon tried to act like this didn't mean anything to him, but inside his heart actually skipped a beat. He was dying to see Arya again. He shrugged and said, "She doesn't want me, Lifaen. She's made it clear to me that she only wants to be friends."
Lifaen shook his head. "She's been acting strange, even for her," he continued. "Do us all a favor and go see her. If you think it was hard to live with her before, it's even more difficult now."
Eragon let out a small chuckle. "That only makes me want to go see her more," he said sarcastically. "Don't worry," he assured the elf. "I'll go find her."
So then Eragon strode off towards his tent with a new confusion in his heart. He shook his head. Why did he have to get involved with one of the most complicated females in all of Alagaësia? The only one more confusing than Arya was Circe and she was Murtagh's problem. He shrugged. Perhaps it ran in the family. But Lifaen's news intrigued him. Had he been wrong to give up all hope on Arya? Or was Lifaen being misleading?
Once he returned to his tent, the blue Rider stripped off his clothes and washed all the sweat off his body. Then he put on clean clothes, strapped the blue sword to his belt and walked off to find Arya.
Once he arrived in the elves' camp, finding Arya wasn't that difficult; she was in one of the larger tents. He stood outside the tent for a few seconds feeling rather foolish, then dug up the courage to call, "Arya Svit-kona? Are you there?"
A few moments later, Arya appeared at the entrance to the tent. "Eragon?" she asked in disbelief. "Eragon Shadeslayer?"
"Aye," Eragon replied with a grin. "It's me, Arya."
"Oh, Eragon!" she exclaimed. "It's so nice to see you again! But may I ask what are you doing here? Why are with Galbatorix's army?"
"It's a long story," he answered with a sigh.
"I'd like to hear it."
"For you, I think I can bare to relive it," he said with a smile. She looked just like she did when he'd last seen here and just as beautiful as she had the first time he dreamt of her. If she took offense or was startled by his comment, she didn't show it. That was good. She listened intently to the rest of his story as he retold being ambushed at Helgrind, meeting Murtagh and Circe and plotting to free themselves of Galbatorix's control.
"I'm just glad you're okay," she said with relief. "Aberon wasn't the same without you."
Eragon only just now realized how close she was standing to him. Maybe Lifaen was right. Maybe she did have feelings for him like he did for her. But she'd led him on a little before. If he tried anything, would she shoot him down again? Well… he'd never know if he didn't try…
The young Rider took a deep breath and leaned in to kiss her. To his surprise, she didn't pull away immediately and scold him again. In fact, she seemed to go along with it and it was the most wonderful experience Eragon may ever have had. For a few moments, everything was right in the world and he completely forgot about Galbatorix and the Empire.
But then Arya separated from him. It was a sudden, abrupt movement and she turned her gaze to the ground quickly rather than meet his eye. "No, I shouldn't have done that," she said quickly.
Eragon let out a deep, frustrated sigh. She'd done it again! "Why do you do this to me, Arya Svit-kona?" he asked with agitation. "Everytime I'm with you… you send me these messages, and then why I try to act on them, you kick me away."
Arya remained silent, still unable to meet his eye.
"Ever since the night I first dreamt of you, all those months ago, a day hasn't gone by when I haven't thought of you," he told her, hoping to get a response this time. However, he wasn't that lucky. "And now that I'm with you again, I'm in agony. Why do you do this to me?"
Still, she remained silent.
He glared at her. "If you are suffering as much as I am, please… tell me," he said angrily.
When Arya failed yet again to dignify his questions with a response, Eragon turned and left. That was it. He was done with Arya. He would not continue to allow himself to be hurt in this way. That was it. Tomorrow, he was leaving for Ellesméra to complete his training with Oromis and he hoped to never see her again.