A/Note:

{Having received InkWeaverabc's Beta notes, and input from LOTRRanger, I have made some adjustments and small additions to this chapter and reposted it. I hope it makes the reading more enjoyable.} XD

Not sure why I had such difficulty with this chapter. My muse just flat out left me high and dry. Interruptions in life sort of altered my intended direction, and eventually the story defined its own path, in spite of my attempts to make something special of it.

I thank all of you for reading, and for your encouraging reviews. Any constructive advice is craved... I want this story to get better for you guys.

Undermined: Part II

Thorn had unearthed nearly a fourth of the enemy's outer 'ring' as he ran, before he encountered magical wards that abruptly halted his progress. A roar of surprise and frustration escaped him as the unseen bindings gripped his limbs and held him in place.

Through their link, Murtagh could feel the pull of the magic on his dragon... very like being enveloped in quicksand, only stronger. It seemed the more Thorn struggled, the deeper and more securely he was bound.

Stop all your thrashing, Thorn... It's only making things worse...

Panic seeped into his being, as Thorn's ability to draw breath became compromised. Vermillion eyes bulged as the dragon twisted in an attempt to pull himself loose. But the dragon was securely bound and completely helpless.

Reaching for their Eldunarya, the red rider struggled to counter the magic, only to be shocked when, even with the added strength, the binding spells didn't budge. How was the enemy able to spend all of this energy on the spell?

Murtagh had to tear himself away from his dragon's panic, knowing that their only chance was to locate the source of the enemy's energy and deal with it that way. Mentally he scanned the area within the circular battle ground.

Apparently, the fighters following Commander Dornson had become trapped behind enemy lines by the remaining imperial soldiers. The Kings army had surrounded the small group, cutting them off from their allies, while the main Varden force had earlier been deflected back over the rise, and forced to regroup.

Imperial forces struggled to contain the Varden, and many of them were rushing to fill the gap created by Thorn's earlier devastating run. Additionally, more imperial soldiers were converging each moment, surrounding the small force on all sides. The Fairy Rings drew tighter around them.

The red rider noted with a grain of satisfaction that only a small group of the rebels had become trapped within the 'rings, the commander himself and maybe thirty or so of his men. All were fighting determinedly, and now that the rest of the Varden forces had swung back around to attack the circle from the outside, the trapped soldiers stood a very good chance of escaping.

Murtagh's sharp eyes had gathered all this in seconds, as there was only time to skim over the battle in his search for the answer to his and Thorn's dilemma. This took precedence over everything else, for now even his own breathing was becoming difficult. It was essential that he hold on tightly to what air he had, otherwise he would be unable to utter even a simple spell.

It took little time to locate the magician... or rather the magicians. The rider gasped in disbelief. There were fifty magicians congregated near the center of the rings... Fifty!

The number was unprecedented for an ambush such as this. In fact, the entire size of the enemy force appeared to be nearly ten times that which had been reported. This ambush had been well staged.

But there was something that just didn't make sense to the rider. Fifty magicians... It was hard to imagine all of them combining their efforts to restrain a dragon, or even uniting to perform a single spell. That would be near suicide. One stray thought by any of them, and it could all backfire on the whole group.

Thorn's vision was starting to fade in and out, but he managed to send his rider a picture... a memory... Eragon using a spell while his elven guard providing the energy. At first Murtagh stumbled over his dragon's meaning, but then suddenly it all made sense. The magicians weren't all participating in the spell, but were themselves the energy source for someone. But who?

Murtagh's searching pinpointed the sorcerer that was drawing power from his comrades, but it also revealed that the wards protecting him were very strong. Certainly any normal attack would be deflected.

The dragon crashed to his knees, disorientation becoming more prominent every moment. Even Murtagh swayed as a wave of dizziness washed over him. He had to work fast. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he wondered how the rest of the Varden force were faring, but it wasn't anything he could dwell on, not as long as he and his dragon were fighting for their lives.

Icy fear dug into Murtagh's heart, stealing his concentration momentarily. It felt like the end of the world was creeping up behind him, as he strained to come up with some sort of defense... anything that might loosen the hold of the suffocating spell. Just as he was about to release a frustrated cry, an idea flashed in a moment of brilliance. He didn't stop to wonder, or even formulate a proper spell. He just dove deep into himself, reaching for the magic, and loosed his weapon. Water.

"Adurna... thrysta..." he hissed, placing almost as much energy into spitting out the words as he did into the forming of the spell... "Moi..."

One of the spells Murtagh had played with on his own was the one he had seen Eragon use to extract water from the ground while crossing the Hadarac. The red rider had been quite successful with adapting this magic to numerous varied uses. Locating water in the moist air surrounding this lone mountain was the easy part. Discovering whether the magicians' wards interpreted water as a threat to nullify. That would be the trick.

It became clear that the enemy's head magician was well protected. He was even shielded against the sphere of water hurtling toward him, his wards struck the oncoming blast dispersing it into harmless droplets. It literally created a horizontal rainstorm that pelted the sorcerer and those near him. But only the first few drops stuck him in water form. For the last piece of Murtagh's spell changed the streaking rain into tiny shards of ice... Blood erupted from literally thousands of wounds, most of which focused on the lead magician. A hideous shrieking and cries of agony rose from the targeted area. At least eight died on the spot, and enough of the others were so injured that the remaining magicians had their hands full just trying to save their fellow mages.

All restraints surrounding the ruby pair collapsed... and Murtagh began to pour energy from several of the Hearts into his nearly unconscious friend. It mattered little that there were surviving magicians. And Murtagh could have destroyed them easily now that they were in a panic of their own, but the rider's main concern now was his dragon.

The expansion of the dragon's torso as he drew his first breath in minutes, flooded the rider with a tidal wave of emotion and relief. The mental spark was retuning to their connection, and the pair clung desperately to each other through their link, reveling in their returning strength. It took several long moments for the pair to recover to a functioning level, and the rider used the brief time to scan the rest of the field.

A hole had been punched in the outer circle by Dornson's first captain. Murtagh didn't know his name, but he nodded in approval of the captain's technique. They had burst through with the horses, and were using them as a wedge to hold the escape route open while the second wave of rebels poured through, surrounding and liberating the commander's party in moments.

Thorn heaved himself to his feet, and glanced around at the imperial troops foolish enough to have attempted to surround the dragon and rider after it was clear that the magicians had failed. Murtagh couldn't help smirking at his friend's eagerness to sink his fangs into the enemy. After enduring such a humiliating incapacitation, Thorn was aiming to get even. It even appeared to the soldiers that the dragon smirked.

With a snort of fire and smoke, Thorn became a charging bull, a formidable army of one. Ruby scales flashed in the sun, as white talons dug into the shallow gritty dirt, propelling himself and his rider in the direction of their retreating comrades. And panicked enemy soldiers scattered, fled, and dove out of his searing path.

Another wave of relief washed over the pair as they exited the cursed rings, prompting Thorn's roar of defiance. The ruby wings snapped open and beat both sky and ground, creating a dust-storm in his haste to be airborne.

At this point the entire Varden was in retreat heading down the steady decline back in the direction they had come from. Swinging about, Murtagh and Thorn took time enough to locate and scatter the horses of the enemy. They had been poised in a nearby ravine, and ready to use if the need arose. Only now they were gone, and of no use. It was clear that there would be no pursuit of the fleeing rebels. Finally, the red pair was able to relax as they circled back towards their retreating allies.

Murtagh, I know I saw archers within the empires troops.

"I saw them too... I wonder why no arrows were fired," the rider scowled.

Count yourself lucky, Thorn mused as the pair glided over the mounted Varden army. I think that was the shortest battle I have ever been in.

"Ha! Maybe cause you slept through half of it."

Not funny, the dragon growled irritably. But curiosity overcame his ire when he noticed the Varden troops slowing. I wonder what's going on down there?

Murtagh glanced over Thorn's shoulder and watched speechless. The two leaders were at odds, one shaking an angry fist, and the other with arms spread as if pleading. As unbelievable as it seemed, Dornson was giving orders to turn the group around, and renew the attack, while his captain was trying to make him see sense.

"Thorn... we'd better land."

Less than a minute later Murtagh was on the ground and stalking unceremoniously towards Dornson and his captain. Judging by the expressions on both officers' faces, neither man was in favor of the red rider joining in the conversation. Both pulled back a bit, and eyed him suspiciously. A long silence passed between them in which no word of any kind was spoken. Finally, Murtagh decided to get things going with a bit of common sense, lined with a minimal hint at sarcasm.

"Gentlemen... we are not yet far enough from the enemy to stop for tea. I suggest that we resume the retreat."

"Yes," the captain agreed looking at the commander with renewed purpose. Even though he was leery about Morzansson's presence, he welcomed the support that the rider's words offered. "There is nothing to be gained by going back there. That wasn't an opportunity, sir. It was a trap."

"They are a threat to the Varden," the commander countered. "We need to go back there and destroy them. And if this cowardly excuse for a rider had been able to hold up his part, this whole thing would be over and we would be returning home victorious. But instead the entire mission is undermined by one man."

"Dornson," the rider said in a low voice, straining for control. "Their numbers were too great. Their position gave them the advantage. It was a fool's war."

Dornson's piercing eyes flashed with hostility.

"I didn't see anything we couldn't handle."

"That was because most of their numbers were on the other side of the formation. They were coming. Trust me. We were lucky to have escaped. And if your captain hadn't been so quick to come up with a maneuver to break their lines, you and your little group would have been decimated."

"Trust you... Trust YOU? Morzanson? You have got to be joking." Dornson nearly choked on his disdain, but then raised his voice for added authority. "Captain Yurak, get the men turned around and headed back up the..."

The eyes of the commander rolled back into his head as his lids fluttered. He teetered, and ended up falling into a heap... almost. The rider caught him by one arm and then shoved the unconscious commander into the stunned captain's arms.

"Wha-wha-what did you do?"

Murtagh answered without missing a beat.

"It looks like the commander is suffering from exhaustion. He will likely regain consciousness before we reach the city, but make sure he is secured for the return to Feinster. We wouldn't want to lose him."

The rider spared a glance to the equally shocked men that had been near enough to hear, but his eyes returned and locked on Yurak.

"Captain, you are in charge now. Get your men, and head back to the keep."

Murtagh didn't wait to hear if any complained, or refused, or complied. He just turned about, leapt back up on Thorn, and the ruby pair retreated to the sky as quickly as they were able. The rider didn't even want to look to see what would happen next. Luckily he didn't have to. Thorn was watching for him.

They are finally moving again.

Great! the rider replied with a mental huff.

Well, look on the bright side, my little brother. You have completed your first Varden mission in record time. The dragon shook with laughter beneath his saddle.

Right... I fly right into a trap... you and I are nearly recaptured... we almost lose three dozen men... then when we do escape, I put the commander in a forced sleep, and we retreat empty handed.

Murtagh, we were never really supposed to bring anything back with us.

I know, the rider heaved a weary sigh. But all I can think of is 'What else could go wrong?'

You could have to learn a new level of the rimgar...

Murtagh's tortured groan elicited another bout of silent laughter, that shook the dragon's frame. And Thorn smiled, love for his despondent rider bubbling over. Inside the mighty dragon, the feeling of happiness and freedom was greater than he had ever felt before. Battle was sweet now that he and his rider were able to choose their own prey. Ripping and biting the enemy could be done without the caustic taste of bitter regret on his tongue. Even if they hadn't won, they were still free and alive to fight another day.

The bold and happy musings took Thorn higher and higher till the pair punctured through the cloud layer. Emerging above the cottony sea, the warm rays of the lazy-westbound-sky-guardian kissed and illuminated the dragon's scales. And it would have been easier to douse the fire of sun than to diminish the flame of life that glowed within the heart of the ruby dragon.

Suddenly every suffering he had ever endured seemed meaningless. He had his rider and his freedom, and life was a dazzling joy.

Ending Notes:

I really appreciate all the encouraging and suggestions in the reviews. Next chapter is nearly finished, and will be up in a few days to make up for the lengthy wait you have all patiently endured.

XD

This chapter is posted 10-10-2011

Having received InkWeaverabc's Beta notes, and input from LOTRRanger, I have made some adjustments and small additions to this chapter and reposted it. I hope it makes the reading more enjoyable. XD

This chapter was revised 20-13-2011