Free Riders
Author's Note: Eragon is not mine. Char, Blaster, and Saranya are. Comment as you see fit. Title a nod to "El Dorado, City of Gold" or "Venice, City of Water."
Chapter 39: Tronjheim, the City of Stone
Murtagh woke with a start early the next morning. He had heard a growling, but he was unable to place it. He sat up, looked around, and saw that it was only Sara, snoring in her sleep. He yawned and stretched, cracking some joints in his stiff back. Another growl startled him.
Murtagh looked over at Blaster, who was sitting against Sara's belly, looking as if he was still asleep. Murtagh slowly approached until he was right next to Blaster. Slowly, he started to move his hand closer to Blaster's chest. Before it got anywhere within half-a-foot from him, Blaster muttered, "You do, and it'll be the last thing you do with that hand for a while."
Murtagh jumped back in shock. "You're awake?"
"Have been for about half the night," Blaster replied, slowly getting to his feet. "I don't sleep for very long usually. Sometimes, I go for days with insomnia, but that's when I meditate to rest. You know what time it is? My computer didn't come with a clock."
"Kind of impossible to tell from in here," Murtagh said.
"It disturbs me," Blaster said. "It's been hours, and yet, they have sent no one for us."
They sat together, silently. Blaster absentmindedly tapped at his wrist computer and finally found the clock (he had hidden it under 'Settings'). Within a few minutes, Sara stirred from her rest. She yawned, the tip of her tongues curling upwards until she was done.
Has anything happened yet? Blaster shook his head. I'm getting hungry, Sara admitted. I could eat a whole herd of cattle as opposed to that late-night snack I got before we went to bed.
They'll feed you, Blaster assured.
They'd better, Sara replied. She positioned herself by the door, waiting with her tail flicking. Blaster took the time to examine one of the lamps in the room. It was made of a single piece of glass shaped like a teardrop. Within it was a soft blue light that neither wavered nor flickered. Four slim metal ribs surrounded the glass smoothly, meeting at the top to form a small hook, and joining again at the bottom where they melded into three graceful legs.
Blaster kept inspecting the lantern until he heard voices in the hallway. Moments later, the door opened and a dozen men marched inside, the first of which gulped at the sight of Sara. The bald man and Orik appeared as well.
"You have been summoned to Ajihad, leader of the Varden," the bald man exclaimed. "If you must eat, do so while we march." He turned away.
"Where are our horses?" Murtagh asked. "And our weapons?"
The bald man looked at them with distain. "Your weapons will be returned to you when Ajihad sees fit, not before. Your horses, however, await you in the tunnels. Now come!"
"What of Arya?" Blaster asked as the bald man prepared to leave. "And Char?"
The man hesitated. "I do not know. The healers are still with them." He exited the room, Orik in tow.
"You first," one of the men ordered. Blaster walked through the door, followed by Sara and Murtagh. They traveled back through the corridor they traveled the night before. Once they had reached the large tunnel that they had entered the mountain with, they saw Orik with the reigns to the horses.
"You will ride single file down the center of the tunnel," the bald man explained. "Any attempt to go elsewhere will be stopped." Blaster attempted to climb onto Sara. "No! Ride your horse until I tell you otherwise."
"Yes, slave-driver," Blaster muttered. He climbed onto Phillip. Stay close, Saranya.
I will, Sara replied. I just wish you'd stop interchanging my name length at will.
After inspecting the line, the bald man ordered the warriors to surround them, half on each side, giving a wide berth to Sara, who was lined up behind her Rider. Once happy, the bald man and Orik went to the front of the procession. One last look and the bald man clapped, ordering them forward. Every hoof-step was amplified by the vast and deserted tunnel. When there were openings in the sides of the passage, they saw only doors or gates, each one shut.
Blaster had to marvel in the handiwork of the builders. Whoever mined this tunnel did it with such precision, he couldn't have done it with a tunnel excavator to the Rockies. All the surfaces were smooth, the walls were perfectly square to the floor, and it didn't surprise Blaster that the entire tunnel didn't deviate by even an inch, which was impressive, given the technology.
It was obviously dwarven work, but Blaster was wondering about the dwarves themselves. Were they a part of the Varden, or merely sheltering them? More and more questions rattled around in their heads. Where were the elves if the Varden were hidden here? Was Ajihad this king that Orik had mentioned before?
Blaster was soon focusing on Ajihad. From the stories that he had been told, Ajihad was a mysterious figure to the Empire. He rose to power twenty years ago, and it was rumored that he was a brutal fighter to go with his other trait of a master strategist. It was disturbing how they would be received, but if Brom trusted him, then Blaster could trust them…to a point.
For over an hour, the bald man led them through the tunnel, more than a league from where they started. Slowly, a slight glow came from the end of the tunnel. As they neared it, the glow turned into thick marble pillars laced with rubies and amethysts that lined the walls. Lanterns hung between pillars, allowing them to see the details of the inlayed gold on the base of the pillars. A pair of delicately carved raven heads arched over the ceiling, beaks open in mid-screech. They stopped before two massive black doors were at the end of the hallway, accented by silver lines depicting a seven-pointed crown that spanned both sides.
"You will ride your dragon now," the bald man said. "Do not attempt to fly away. There'll be people watching, so remember who and what you are."
"I know exactly who and what I am," Blaster replied as he jumped from Phillip to Sara. Seems to me they want to show us off. I really don't like that.
I'm in agreement, Sara replied as Blaster settled into the saddle, not bothering to tighten his leg straps.
Blaster merely nodded, as if to say "Yes, let's get this over with."
"Good," the bald man said. He and Orik retreated to either side of Sara, staying far enough back so that she was clearly in the lead. "Now walk to the doors, and once they open, follow the path. Go slowly."
You ready? Sara asked.
As I'll ever be, Blaster replied. You?
Of course. Sara approached the doors at a measured pace, her scales glinting and reflecting light onto the pillars as she passed. Blaster took a deep breath to calm his nerves. He'd been in front of a large group before, just not paraded like the High School Cheerleading float. Before anyone could even flinch, the doors swung outward on hidden hinges. Rays of sunlight beamed into the tunnel, falling on Blaster and Sara, as they were first. They were temporarily blinded, but soon gasped.
Blaster looked around and saw that they were in the middle of a massive volcanic crater. A small ragged opening was high above, but it was impossible to see how high it was. It could have been several miles, could have been a dozen, could have been more. What appeared to be miles away was the crater's far side, hazy blue in the distance. High above them were icicles that were at least hundreds of feet across and thousands of feet, occasionally over a mile long. As they looked closer to the base of the crater, they saw mats of moss and lichen covering the rocks.
Ahead of them was a wide cobblestone path that went from the threshold to the base of a snowy-white mountain that glittered with thousands of lights like an uncut gem. It was easily a mile tall, though it only looked less than a tenth the height of the crater. The tunnel behind them had only taken them through one side of the crater wall.
"Look well, humans, for no Rider have set eyes upon this for nigh over a hundred years," Orik said. "At least, until Eragon showed up. The airy peak under which we stand is Farthen Dûr—discovered thousands of years ago by the father of our race, Korgan, as he tunneled for gold. And in the center stands our greatest achievement: Tronjheim, the city-mountain built from the purest marble." The doors ground to a halt.
Blaster then saw the crowd and froze. Humans and dwarves alike lined the cobblestone path by the thousands. Every eye and face was focused on Blaster. Dirty smocked children, hardy men, women in dress, and weathered dwarves who fingered their beards all wore taut expression similar to that of a cornered and injured animal with no way to escape. Blaster, finally aware that he was to move first, raised a hand toward the crowd.
A single cheer pierced the silence, then a loud clapping. The crowd hesitated for a moment, then a wild roar swept through it. "Very good," the bald man said. "Now start walking."
Blaster and Sara walked forward, the crowd shying away from Sara after she exhaled a puff of smoke before intensifying the enthusiasm. Sara then stopped in the middle of the hall.
Sara, what are you doing? She didn't respond. She crouched down. Saranya! She growled a bit, then thrust her body into the air. SARANYA! She started to fly around, buzzing over the crowd and doing aerial stunts. When the crowd was roaring in excitement, she landed at the head of the procession again. Blaster, who had barely hung on, buried his face into his left hand.
"Are you okay?" a warrior asked over the din.
"Yeah," Blaster said, face still buried in his hand, hiding the embarrassment.
How was that? Sara asked.
I think, personally, you overdid it, Blaster said. By a lot. He finally removed his hand from his face and shouted to the crowd, "Everything's okay! Nothing to worry about! She's just a little excited." He then added, "And she wanted to make an entrance," under his breath as the crowd cheered.
Dwarves greatly outnumbered humans in the crowd, most of which glared at them resentfully. Some turned and walked away with fittingly stony faces. The men, on the other hand, were ready for battle as all had either daggers or knives at their waists, though some were ready for war as they wore swords and some slight armor. Women were concealing deep-abiding weariness with their proud statures. What few children and babies who were there stared at them with large eyes. Didn't take a rocket scientist to tell that they had experienced many hardships and that they would do whatever was necessary to defend themselves. They had done that by hiding in Farthen Dûr, for the walls of the massive crater were too high for dragons to fly over, and no army could break down the doors if they found them.
They all continued forward, the crowd following close behind them all, giving plenty of room. They grew silent, though they were still engrossed with Blaster. Blaster looked back to Murtagh and found him white-faced. He turned around and took in the city-mountain of Tronjheim, examining the architecture from a distance and noticing the marble was highly polished and it flowed like it was poured there and left to solidify.
The city-mountain was dotted with hundreds, thousands, possibly millions of round, elaborately carved windows, each with a colored lantern. They couldn't see turrets or smokestacks, but they were sure that there had to be some. Ahead of them were two golden griffins guarding a massive timber gate recessed into the base a good twenty yards, the golden guards themselves a good thirty feet. Supports for an arch vault could be seen.
At the base of Tronjheim, Sara paused to see if there were any further instructions from the bald man. She didn't receive any, so she continued to the gate, going by walls lined with blood-red jasper fluted pillars, a statue of odd-looking creatures between them. As they approached, the heavy gate rumbled as hidden chains slowly raised the mammoth beams. A passageway at least four-stories in height extended towards the center of Tronjheim. The top three levels had archways that revealed gray tunnels that curved off into the distance. Clumps of people crowded the arches, eagerly watching the dragon and her Rider. The ground level, however, had the archways barred by stout doors. Tapestries hung between the different levels, some depicting heroic figures, others showing tumultuous scenes of battle.
As Sara stepped into the hall, a cheer rang in their ears. Blaster raised his hand, eliciting another roar from the throng. However, he noticed that the dwarves, for the most part, didn't join in the welcoming shout. After all this traveling, Blaster didn't care, even if some turned away.
After they had gone through the mile-long hall, they walked through a black onyx archway, capped by yellow zircons at least three times larger than any normal human that allowed beams of golden light to radiate through them. Sara walked through the archway and seemingly gasped. When Blaster finally came in, they knew why. The room they entered was round, and at least a thousand feet from one end to the other. It rose and narrowed as it pointed to the peak. Arches lined the walls, one row for each level, and the floor looked to be made of polished carnelian, upon which was engraved a hammer surrounded by twelve silver pentacles, similar to Orik's helm.
This large room was what appeared to be a nexus of four hallways that included the one they had come down to divide Tronjheim into quarters. All the halls were identical except the one directly in front of them. To the right and left of that hall were tall arches that showed mirrored, descending stairs. Above them, was probably the most interesting thing they had seen: a monstrous dawn-red star sapphire.
It was at least twenty yards across, and nearly as thick, but it wasn't a smooth gem. Instead, on the face of the jewel, a rose in full bloom had been carved on it with such precision and craftsmanship, Blaster thought for a moment it was a real flower. It was surrounded by a wide belt of lanterns, casting striated bands of light over everything below. The star within the gem looked to be an eye gazing at them from above with the flashing rays.
The whole thing was a testament to the power and the perseverance the dwarves had. Not even Blaster's old home of Torillia would have been able to match the perfect balance of wealth and grandeur displayed before them. What made Blaster even more astonished was the fact that the whole thing had been built by mortal beings; another testament to the dwarves.
"You must continue from here on foot," the bald man said, much to the crowd's displeasure. A dwarf took Tornac and Phillip away. Blaster dismounted, but stayed close to Sara's side as the bald man led them down the right-hand hallway. They followed, entering a smaller corridor after a several hundred feet. Despite the cramped space, the guards remained. Four sharp turns later, they came to a large cedar door, black with age. The bald man conducted everyone inside except the guards.
Now that Blaster's been shown off, what is next? Will the girls recover quickly? And why do I have problems with keeping a schedule? Find the answers to these and more next time in Free Riders. Except the last question...that's not really important. Free Riders, updating Tuesdays and Fridays.