Chapter 10:
Glaedr's hate boiled over when he spotted red-blood-Thorn. He felt Arya connect with young-elf-human Eragon, and he stealthily intercepted the bond they made. Revenge overtook his mind, and without really thinking he began to funnel hate into Eragon's head, submerging him in his own ideas, making him rash and his judgment clouded. Through him Saphira was affected, albeit less.
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Arya shot off towards where they landed, leaving the elves shocked until they registered to follow. She ran fast, worry driving her forward, letting the wind pass by without obstruction. She drew her sword in one smooth movement as she crashed into the clearing, nearly colliding with Eragon.
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He wasn't expecting her, and she wasn't expecting him. He watched her try to stop before skidding to a halt, just avoiding a hard collision; she still hit him hard enough that she fell over. By instinct he wrapped his arms around her back before she could fall, and her sword clattered to the hard stone, nearly impaling his foot. Her eyes revealed shock before she could hide it, and so as not to embarrass her, he let her go. Out of the corner of his eye he could see her ears turn scarlet, and as if in response his cheeks flushed, burning a deeper red than her ears. She quickly stooped to pick up her sword, giving a huff.
What was that? He asked Saphira, confusion melting into his mind.
A speedy reaction to an embarrassing moment, it seems. She replied, humor dripping off each word. He smiled slightly and turned his full attention back on Murtagh, discarding the thought for later use.
'Talk' Eragon commanded harshly, his voice cold.
'If I promise, in the ancient language, that I will not do you any mental or physical harm, can I show you?' he asked in a small voice, letting his eyes stray to his surroundings. Eragon nodded, suspicion warring with his curiosity.
'Relax,' his older brother said, 'and open your mind.' He did, letting Murtagh's tendril of thought connect with his mind.
Running through thick corridors, the screaming silence of his cell, the freedom of flying, the plan they formed. Executing it with precision, stealing the eldunari, the egg, the egg? The memories streamed through, washing away what he had said. The close encounter they had whilst running away. Then the encounter with himself and Saphira.
They flashed by, giving Eragon only enough time to comprehend what he saw. When Murtagh was finished, Eragon was filled with questions. The streamed out into an incoherent river until Arya silenced him by holding up he hand.
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She watched her partner's head whip back as the memories swallowed him, her blue eyes strayed around her till they rested on Thorn. His head rested on his paws, his eyes staying intently on his partner. But in frequent intervals he looked at her. It was disconcerting, having someone stare at you with such intensity that it was as if they could see through your soul. She quickly dispelled the thought, reasoning that everyone stared at her.
Not quiet in the same way she thought to her self, kneading the dirt with her claws, trying to dispel her anxiety.
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When the stream ended, he opened his eyes. His head felt as if his head had been cracked open from his forehead to the nape of his neck. His vision blurred slightly and he sat down heavily before he could faint. It had a similar affect on Murtagh, except he didn't sit, he lay down, panting. Eragon clutched his head, a moan escaping his lips. Arya appeared before him, whispering a spell that dispelled the headache. He shook his head slightly as it ended.
'Are you alright?' worry reflected in her voice, and he sucked in a breath before answering.
'Alright? Yes, fine' he looked at her and gave a crooked smile.
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Her heart fluttered as he smiled at her, and she slowly lifted him up. Her reaction confused her, he had always smiled at her, but this smile made her heart pound against her ribs and beat unevenly. She did her best to smile back as he stood unsteadily.
'We need to get back to camp' she said, casting her mind out to what they should do.
'Murtagh, you must camp out here tonight. The varden will butcher you if you enter. We will say that Eragon killed you' she looked at Eragon sideways, and she went to Saphira's saddle, pulling out a handful of berries, she let the juices run onto Eragon's tunic and armour, letting the cloth and metal stain red. Satisfied it looked like blood stains, she said,
'Swear you will not leave this area until we get you and that you won't contact any of our enemies whilst you are near a ten mile vicinity of the varden' she directed the question to Murtagh, and he swore in the ancient language. She nodded and turned to address the elves behind her.
'Two of you guard him, make sure he does not do anything stupid' Eragon was dazed, not taking notice of Arya taking charge. And she reasoned that he wouldn't mind.
'The rest of you, go back to what you were doing, I'd hate to ruin your evening' with that everyone dispersed, leaving two elves, Eragon, Arya, Saphira, Murtagh and Thorn. It seemed Eragon had collected himself when he said,
'Thank you, Arya, I think Nasuada would be worried by now' taking the hint, she leapt onto Saphira's back, Eragon close behind. And as Saphira took off, she wrapped her arms around Eragon, resting her chin on his shoulder.
'What do you think?' she said, mainly to herself. He turned his head and smiled, making her heart beat faster, he said,
'I think the tables are flipping to our favor' weariness echoed in his voice, and he laughed slightly, letting his shoulders relax, they rose higher into the skies.