A/Note:
This chapter was posted 10-15-2011 {unfortunately before I got my beta's critique.} So I will make corrections to this chapter once that is received. And while I am on that subject, the previous chapter was re-worked and had a few bits added for better understanding. So... I hope that helps. XD
Also, I truly thank all of you who have taken time to encourage me with your reviews. And the rest I thank you for simply reading and giving this story a chance. There may be a few more chapters left in this one. I plan to tie it in to the bit about Murtagh running into Orik... "The King and the Kingslayer" piece that I have been toying with. But recently I have been encouraged to do more with "The Finding of the Child" which has a chapter posted on my profile page. That will be my new thrust going forward. Wish me luck, and thanks for being so patient. ;)
Undermined: Part III
"I don't even know why we're still talking about this," the rider huffed in exasperation. "The Varden troops returned safely."
"We returned," commander Thadon Dornson acknowledged with a sarcastic snarl. "We returned defeated, thanks to you and your bloody lizard."
The tension in the tent multiplied at those thoughtlessly uttered words. And the red rider's murderous stare fixed on the commander, giving evidence to his well aimed insults. The former struggled for his own control, fists balled, and jaw muscles clamped to prevent him from saying something he'd regret... like a magic word of death perhaps.
Oblivious to this fact, the commander smirked, emboldened by his own ability to infuriate the rider, for in his opinion the rider deserved to be ridiculed. After all, the battle had been cut short by the insolent coward's called for retreat. The son of Morzan had not been placed in command, and there was a very good reason for that. He could not be trusted. And this entire ordeal was the proof.
Dornson was still trying to reason out what had happened. How had his inspired plan been so easily thwarted? What had undermined his control over his men? Why had his young captain and the rest of the Varden soldiers automatically followed the cursed rider's instructions? Perhaps the men were just so used to trusting the blue rider that they did as they were bid. Or maybe they did so out of fear of Morzansson's reaction should they disobey. More likely the red rider had placed a magic spell on them to sway the men in his favor... the coward. But in spite of the extended silence that followed his insulting words, the commander had not yet worked up the nerve to speak his suspicions aloud. Then it was too late for the red faced 'traitor' had calmed sufficiently to quietly snarl his response.
"If it weren't for Thorn's actions, your entire command would have been decimated," and here the rider's voice lowered to an angry growl. "And from now on, you watch your tongue when you talk about my dragon."
"You traitor scum... You are under my command, and you do as I say, or face the consequences. End of discussion."
A shiver swept through Nasuada, though it wasn't visibly perceptible. She was stunned by the vehemence being displayed by the two men in her presence. She had listened to both sides, and each of them had valid points, though she found this entire briefing to be as much of a dismal failure as the mission had been. The young leader appeared uncomfortable with her own resolve as she turned towards the taller of the two.
"Murtagh," she began with an exhausted sigh. "We must maintain the chain of command. And you did cause havoc with the troops during the start of the battle."
"And I demand that he be punished appropriately for turning on me and my men," Dornson snarled. His arrogant interruption drew a scowl from both Murtagh and Nasuada.
The silence that followed was punctuated with blistering glares from all. Neither soldier was backing down for a moment, and their eyes were locked in an intense visual combat. When Murtagh spoke, his words were aimed at the Varden leader even if his eyes weren't.
"I will discuss this with you privately," he informed her through gritted teeth.
"There is nothing to discuss Morzansson!" Thadon crowed. "You need to be taught a lesson... to respect your betters. And the sooner you learn..."
"Enough! Both of you!" The utter command in the woman's emphatic tone cut through the bickering, and left a lingering silence in its wake. Her eyes moved from one man to the other, trying to divert their hostilities, and daring either of them to challenge her.
"Commander, you are dismissed," she snapped. It irritated her beyond belief that Dornson had presumed to take control of the briefing, and that he was trying to manipulate her handling of the rider in question. She knew what she had to do, but she would not do it because she was pressed into the action by a disgruntled soldier.
"But M'Lady..."
"I said dismissed."
The grumbling commander dipped his head in a brusque submission, and stormed out, throwing the red rider a last scathing look as he disappeared through the tent flap.
Even with the loss of the officer's angry demeanor, the tension in the warded space was so thick it seemed hard to breath. It was nearly a minute before either of the two remaining occupants deemed to speak.
"Nasuada..."
"No," she stopped him from going further. She didn't like this any better than the rider would, but she knew her duty, and she was not about to shirk it. The preservation of order was at stake. The Varden was at stake.
"Murtagh, you have to understand the need for loyalty and discipline. After your service under the king, I would think..."
"Don't... even... pretend... that this has anything to do with loyalty. Punishing a man for saving the lives of your soldiers is unconscionable. Dornson caused this entire unfortunate event, with his prideful disregard for my warnings, and his insatiable desire to gain status. He is the one who deserves to be punished, and I refuse to be made a spectacle of, in reparation of his bruised ego."
Dark almond-shaped eyes narrowed as the rider completed his unshakable pronouncement. How dare he refuse her order... not that she had actually verbalized her ruling... but his quick mind had drawn the conclusion quite accurately. How dare he consider himself above her jurisdiction? And how dare he make this decision even more difficult that it already was?
"Murtagh," she spoke slowly, hoping to calm her runnaway pulse. "I know this hardly seems fair from your perspective, but for the good of the Varden strict discipline must be maintained. As long as orders are disobeyed, punishment will be the consequence. And don't think that you are the first to be placed in this position. It wasn't long ago that Eragon's cousin, Roran Garrowson, our very own General Stronghammer, endured punishment for a similar incident."
"My cousin," Murtagh corrected flatly.
"What?" Nasuada wasn't expecting him to say that.
"Roran... He is my cousin too," the rider stated with a catch of emotion. For a brief moment Murtagh glanced away before continuing. "And I am well aware of the incident, well aware of the punishment prescribed, and well aware of your reasoning in the matter. But Nasuada, your reasoning is flawed."
Undaunted by the lady's stunned reaction to his words, the rider stepped closer to her, and elaborated further.
"Courage and commitment are not inspired by the fear of repercussions. They are not inspired by pain, force, or coercion. I know... I know because that is the way the king works."
Murtagh's voice began to softened as he spoke his heart to the lady leader. His eyes found hers, and held them captive with his strong underlying emotion.
"Nasuada, real loyalty is inspired by a genuine inner strength, an impartial judgement, and a balance between wisdom and compassion."
The expression on the lady's beautiful face showed signs of uncertainty, and Murtagh continued speaking in his low, gentle tone, so full of conviction that she could do nothing else but listen.
"Ajihad had that wisdom." And in Murtagh's eyes flashed a clear gleam of admiration that he obviously felt for the fallen Varden leader, for her father. "He showed it again and again... He found a way to reprimand Orik for his misdeed of 'saving Eragon and myself from the twins.' He satisfied the letter of the law, stripping the dwarf of his duty, yet rewarding him by the same action, with a new purpose, one that suited him well... And with me, he honored my refusal to be examined, protecting me when he could have simply ended my existence. After that, he even allowed me to fight along side your people, giving me hope that I might be able to earn a modicum of respect."
Silence echoed, as both the reigning lady and the tainted knight struggled to see through each other's eyes.
"Nasuada..." he whispered. "You have that balance of strength, wisdom, and compassion. You know you do. You don't need the unbending authority that results from harsh retaliation... You are better than that."
Murtagh leaned back and collected his emotionless mask. His eyes hardened in preparation to face the outside world, and giving her one last meaningful look, the rider swept out of the command tent.
Stunned into silence, the Varden leader watched him depart. Sounds from the outside world began to filter in... wind rustling the canvas, scuffling feet passing near to the tent, and murmurs from the guards just outside. The silencing spell had been lifted, but the red rider's words echoed in her head, drowning out the returning sounds, and haunting her own conscience. Images of Roran's ordeal, the blood, the lashes, the look of disbelief in his eyes as his fate was announced, all flashed before her eyes in perfect detail. Somehow she had known deep inside that it wasn't right, but she had been convinced that it was the natural way of leadership, that it was a necessary evil... for the good of the Varden.
How could she have been so wrong? Perhaps it was because she was young and inexperienced. Perhaps she had been misled by advisors regarding her duties and choices. But the 'hows' and the 'whys' mattered little now. A large tear rolled down her cheek, and she stifled a sob. If Murtagh was right, and she knew that he was, she had committed a grievous error in the wielding of her authority, and the performance of her duty. She hadn't meant to, but the thing had been done, and could never be undone.
"I can't change the past," she whispered aloud to her aching heart. "But perhaps I can make amends."
Her mind swirled as she set about the planning of her reconciliation. Yet even as she pictured the quiet but elegant dinner, the small intimate gathering, and the heartfelt words of apology that she would speak, she was startlingly aware of the truth. And that truth was this... One person was going to benefit most from the successful mending of this wound between friends, and that was Nasuada herself. Yes, it was selfish. She wanted to be forgiven, but she would also grow from humbly admitting her mistake. And it would be a lesson that she would not soon forget.
A brief moment saw her struggling over whether to invite Murtagh to join them. It was no secret that Stronghammer still strongly disapproved of the red rider. Certainly he would prefer to leave Morzansson out, but something within Nasuada wanted the rider to see her repentance, as well as her acceptance of his frank observations.
At this point she shook her head at the uncomfortable realization. Roran would selfishly exclude Murtagh, the one who was responsible for the leader's change of perspective, and Nasuada would selfishly include him, to further ease her own feelings of guilt. And yet it was Murtagh who was cynically viewed as the heartless one. 'How ironic...'
Turning, the Varden leader gasped as she caught her own reflection in the scrying mirror standing in the corner of the tent. For the briefest instant, she thought she glimpsed her father standing next to her. The moment passed, but she continued to gaze at the image with an overwhelming sense of wonder and resolve. Surely it was only a trick of the mind... but it felt wonderful, the thought that it might be something more... the feeling that perhaps she wasn't as alone as she had believed.
'Father,' she mouthed the word silently.
Suddenly Nasuada felt young and foolish, dwarfed and yet comforted by the immense mystery of the world. There was still so much that she needed to learn, and in truth there always would be. She would have to continually learn and grow, for it had been the mistaken belief in her 'own certain knowledge' that had undermined her ability to be a wise leader.
But she could change... she would change...
"One step at a time... I can do this."
A/Note:
Ever since reading Brisingr, the fate of Roran and his reward for his heroic deeds have left me stunned and astounded... and furious if the truth be told. It seemed to me to be utter madness that guided the sentencing of Stronghammer. I only hope that this chapter helps to alleviate {in a small way} some of the feelings of confusion, pain, and betrayal that resulted from this unfathomable and illogical choice of action. Sermon is over... you may all go and review now. XD