What else can I do, Saphira? I know I can do more! Eragon asked as they flew. Roran was sitting limply in the front. He could not be roused and every so often, blood seeped out of his ears. There had to be something he wasn't doing right! Hadn't there? No one had gotten any sleep. They had left as soon as they could; not wanting to become Murtagh's prisoners. And even now Eragon nervously glance off Saphira, searching the trees for his brother.
We did every thing in our power, little one. Now it's all up to him. She answered as Katrina broke into a new cascade of sobs. She was clearly aware his condition wasn't good.
I won't let him die…not in battle, not because of me, and especially not because of those bags of filth! They will pay, Saphira. I swear it. They will pay…
Eragon looked ahead to see Surda. The small nation stood in perfect stillness as the sun rose. Eragon sighed in relief. They'd be safe here…well mostly. Assassins wouldn't bother them; they wouldn't dare make a rider angry. But as for kidnappers and down right thugs, they'd have plenty; though not nearly as much as they'd have in the empire.
He looked back to his cousin. He was pale as death and too still. He reached out to touch his weak face and pulled back. The skin was so hot; he won't be surprised if he had been burned. He checked his hand just to be sure he wasn't. He had to blink back the tears. He couldn't let Katrina know he was so worried. It would pull her already down spirit lower.
Beside, Roran wouldn't…couldn't die. Could he? He'd been there, through everything. Through love and lust. Through heartbreak and betrayal. He had so much more of a life to live. And he had so much to give. He was soon to have a wife and she loved him very much. He was a skillful warrior and a good friend. He had the makings of a great leader. And he had already done so much…
Hurry Saphira! He doesn't have much time!
She didn't answer, but Eragon saw her wings pick up speed, straining to get there and she was working as hard as she could. The country of Surda sped out from underneath them faster then a lightning bolt. They probably were a lightning bolt to any whom saw them. A firry blue lightning bolt. By late-mourning, their worried eyes rested on Surda's capital, Aberon.
Saphira touched down on the outskirts. They didn't exactly have a dragon landing pad in the city. And it was full of people. Plus, landing there could cause many problems. None of which they'd have time to deal with. Katrina and Eragon quickly scrambled off her and left Roran with his legs strapped in the saddle.
Eragon winced in pain. His legs were bleeding; old scars from Saphira's first flight had been remade, but not nearly as bad. His legs had toughened up since then. Katrina gave a similar hurt face and he could tell it had hurt her too.
But she sucked it in and went to Roran's side. It had seemed impossible that he could get into worse shape a while ago; but somehow, he had. His fever was even higher and he hadn't eaten. They had to drizzle water into his mouth with a rag to get him to drink; which they did frequently.
"We need to get him to Angela. She may be able to help." Eragon said, slightly writhing in pain. Saphira gave a sympathetic nuzzle; understanding the weak saddle had put him at the mercy of her sharp, hard scales, digging into his tender legs. She gave a low rumble as her share in the pain came to her.
Eragon quickly healed his and Katrina's scars. Then they began their descent into Aberon.
The silence they had once heard quickly disappeared as they came upon the city. The traders advertising goods, horses and other animals traversing through the city, mindless chatter of the people inside the city, gates clanking closed, opening gates straining, and many other noises bathed the city. The city was a neat collaboration of buildings; all in neat rows with evenly spaced streets, each a bit higher then the other to keep from invasion. It had no definite schemes of color; unlike most other cites. Tans, whites, blacks, browns, the buildings came in many different colors. The sights were the same as many other cities; random people on the streets crowding them, wagons from near-by farms taking their goods to markets, auctions and sales, and streets clearing for important peoples. One major difference between this city and cites of the empire was the fact that not a slave was in sight or in the city period. Slaves were captured here, not sold here.
The gates easily parted for Eragon, Katrina, and Saphira. The guards all recognized Eragon, Shadeslayer, and Saphira. They'd have to be fools not to. The crowds melted with smiles on their faces as Eragon and his friends past. They were silent with awe as mighty dragon and her rider past. Then, someone started cheering. Another joined. And another. Yet another. Soon all the crowd was cheering, raising their voices in praise for the mighty Shadeslayer and Brightscales. Hands flailing and whistles raising, they moved through the exited crowds.
"Eragon, Shadeslayer!" The crowd roars as they passed.
It was the warmest welcome they'd had for a long time. A small band even began to play a joyful melody as the group passed. And it continued like this till they came upon the palace.
"Eragon!" Came a shout from the palace.
Dress in a richly embroidered purple velvet dress with sleeves that almost touched the ground, a dark woman with her hair pinned back came out to greet them. Well, more like careened out. A big, beautiful smile clothed her dark lips as she came. And she almost knocked Eragon over hugging him, clearly overjoyed. She had the sharpest brown eyes Katrina had ever seen. And her skin was blacker then midnight. Bangs extended to her eye brows. She looked very important. A rich perfume hung in the air around her. She and Eragon laughed as they held their embrace.
Finally, after they were done, she noticed Katrina. Katrina quickly tried to straighten up. She looked a fright. Her hair was a tangled mat of copper; her clothes in rags. Her face was dirty. She felt embarrassed as she tried to straighten out. She quickly curtsied as the lady looked her over.
"And who might this be?" She said addressing Katrina. Katrina opened her mouth to answer, but clamped it shut when the woman spoke again. "Ah…I know. Roran spoke of you frequently. Katrina, right?"
"Yes madam."
"Katrina, meet my liege lord. Lady Nasuada, leader of the Varden." Eragon said.
"Leader of the Varden!" She said quietly to herself. The so everyone could hear, she said, curtsying again lower though, "An honor to meet you, Lady Nasuada."
"An honor to meet the one whom Roran so lovingly speaks of." She paused to look around. "Where is Stronghammer anyway?" She asked with an inquisitive look in her eyes. She saw in Katrina's eyes a strong grief at her question. She gasped. "Oh dear no. I'm so sorry. Is he-" She brushed a tear from her eye.
"No, milady. He is not." Eragon said. Pulling Nasuada close, he added, "But he very soon shall be if he is not taken to Angela." Saphira shifted to finally reveal Roran, lying limply in the saddle. Nasuada gasped.
"By gods, what happened?"
"Ra'zac. They got him pretty hard. I've done the best I can with him." Eragon said as he untied him from the saddle.
"Right. Follow me." Nasuada said as she turned and started to walk. Then she paused and gazed at them." Angela is up stairs with Elva. I'll take you to her. Katrina, I can have my servant take you to a room if you want." She said as two rather large men. They quickly picked up Roran and carried him between the two.
"I want to see the one who may save my fiancé." She said stubbornly.
"Fine. But I have warned you, okay." She said as she gestured them to follow. She led them through the palace corridors and up a flight of stairs. The way was dark, only lit by a few candles. A rat scampered across their path. Katrina gave a light shriek, but then glanced at Roran and walked on. Katrina stumbled a little and wondered for a moment…but as quickly as the thought came, she dismissed it. There had to be some other reason for her dizziness. She glanced at Eragon.
"What does she mean by 'I have warned you'?" Katrina asked in a tone only Eragon could hear. It was more to get her mind off her new thought then to actually know where they were going though.
"Elva…is cursed. I, in all my stupidity, tried to bless her and said a word wrong. Shield instead of shielded, man was I ever stupid…. Anyway, she can see into the future and always has to use her magic to save a doomed person. And gods above, does she look horrific…" Eragon shuddered.
"What does she look like?" She asked as they walked through a long hall. Nasuada turned to a door on the left.
"You're about to see…" he said as Nasuada opened a large, black door with a brass amethyst studded handle.
Inside, the room was almost all black but two candles. One was in the far corner of the room. The other was in the center. Near the one in the corner sat a kind of old lady. Her waves of brown-grey hair were tied back tightly with a black ribbon. She wore a long, lose-fitted black dress. Her silver eyes were tired yet full of great wisdom. A wry smile formed on her face when she saw them.
"Don't worry. I'll take care of Roran. But Eragon, you need to fix Elva. Right now." She said. Katrina was about to ask how she knew about Roran when she said, "To answer the question you were just about to ask, dearie, it is my business to know these things."
Eragon walked to the center of the room, where a young black-haired girl sat. She must have been three or four years old. Before her sat a giant plate of food and the girl viciously ate it, like a wild animal. As she finish, eating as if she never had before, she turned towards the strangers. Katrina gasped. She was pale as a ghost. Dark bangs partially hid a silvery mark on her brow like Eragon's palm. Her deep red lips curved into a menacing grin. But the most striking feature about her by far was her eyes. They were huge, purple, deep eyes. They seamed to tear through her; to see every good thing she's done, and the bad. They saw her past, her present, and her future. Katrina felt nauseated and stumbled forward. Eragon caught her fall and smiled.
Eragon crouched low by her, right palm covering the silvery mark on her head. The two marks seemed to light up the room
"Eragon," Katrina shivered. She was just a little girl, yet her voice sounded of a hardened, experienced adult, "you came-" Suddenly, she stopped dead in her words. Her whole body began twitching, writhing in pain. She gave a shrill screech, like that of a bat. The mark on her forehead burned, sending Eragon's palm flying off. It seethed a brilliant blood red. Her eyes glazed over. She slowly rose, her form growing till it towed over then. Katrina jumped back to the far corner while Eragon simply rose slowly. In an unearthly wail, Elva began to speak, "Pain. I see pain. There is also one, whom you all are intertwined with. Happiness, love, betrayal, pain, suffering, death. One whom is much loved shall feel all soon. Blood shall spill. An innocent life shall be taken on the eve before battle. This doom, is inescapable…." Suddenly, Elva fell limp. Almost too slow to notice, her features became normal… Well for her anyway. The four slowly got up the courage and gathered around the limp form.
"We cannot take her powers away now. There shall be no telling of whom is otherwise." Nasuada said solemnly.
"I, sadly, agree." Angela added.
"What about Roran?" Katrina asked.
"Bring him in." Angela said reluctantly as she set Elva on a small bed in then far corner of the room.
Lady Nasuada called her servants, who were outside for fear of Elva, in. They came with nervous looks on their faces and Roran's corpse-like body. He looked even worse then he had before.
"Now, if you excuse me. I have an important meeting with Orrin soon and must go freshen up." Nasuada said as she curtsied and took her leave.
Eragon shuttered as he watched Roran being lowered onto the bed. He wanted to stay with his cousin, but he knew he had important duties he needed to take care of. He left him in the constant care of Katrina and Angela very reluctantly. But he had to pass on the news.
