Chapter 8:
Night had fallen over the Varden camp, casting deep darkness over the cluster of tents. Fires were being lit and children were returning to their tents. All was quiet, serene even. And Eragon watched in peace as people finished their duties and went back to their families. The stars shone brightly in the coal black sky, and the air grew misty as the air grew cooler. But as he turned to return to his camp, drums began to beat rapidly, and everything seemed to freeze in time, then an explosion of activity erupted as Eragon started to move with the speed of an elf.
'Saphira!' he yelled, she roared in response. He ran into his tent, surprising Arya.
'Sorry' he said, grabbed his armour, suited himself, and then saddled Saphira. As he leaped onto her back Arya ran towards him and swung herself up into the saddle using his wrist. She took off, flying low to the ground. They needed to get to Nasuada's pavilion quickly, and she lost no time getting there.
'What is it?' he asked Nasuada when Saphira landed, the Night hawks surrounded her and she was fully armoured.
'Murtagh and Thorn have been spotted, without an army.' She replied. He looked at her in confusion,
'No army?' he repeated, and she nodded. He shook his head as Arya leaped down.
'Get the elves!' he yelled down at them as Saphira took off. Adrenalin pumped into his veins, and he tried hard to calm himself. He could feel a similar feeling inside of Saphira.
And she flapped her wings rapidly to gain altitude.
Are you ready? He asked, he could feel a pulsing behind him, and Glaedr's eldunari flashed in excitement. She loosed a torrent of fire in response, and roared into the skies. At that moment, Arya's mind connected with his, and the other elves connected with her.
Be careful, Eragon. We don't know how strong he is, remember? He gave a mental nod in response; he drew Brisingr as Saphira rose higher into the skies.