Preparation and Finalisation
Eragon glanced once more at the map before he rolled it up, and placed it back in its water tight compartment. It was incredibly detailed, showing numerous sections of Alagaesia and the surrounding lands and seas in exquisite detail. A pity he didn't have more time to study it or spend hours comparing its accuracies to the ones made by the elves, both in Alagaesia and on their boat. Maybe, when he had some spare time, he would pore over them a few hours, but that probably wouldn't happen for the next month so every now and then he treated himself with a quick glance at the fine artistry of the map.
There were still a few documents from the ruined city that had yet to be translated, despite the fact they had yet to find the cities name, there were already a few interesting things cropping up. It spoke of something that had to be renewed every few hundred years, similar to the dragon-rider pact but this thing had apparently going on for much longer, stretching back to the time when Dwarves, Dragons, Grey Folk and Werecats were only fully sentient creatures that wandered Alagaesia, or more accurately in the case of dragons, flew. A time before the thing had to be renewed a green flash would appear to those who were bound to it, how and where the green flash originated from they had yet to discover and he thought that it would be unlikely that they would find the answers he so desperately wanted in the remaining documents. That reminded him of Angela who had wittily remarked that if every question was itch to him, she felt sorry for him as he must be in eternal agony.
For the moment the elves had suspended studying the documents, for many of them were readying the Talita for the coming journey, and those that weren't were having their shift at the oars, for they were still paddling upstream, thankfully it was only a few hours away. He knew this because while he was doing his training, probably when he was sparring, Saphira who was flying high above them, almost in range of the clouds had spotted a bend in the river. Then, as time went by and Saphira decided to investigate it, it became apparent that it was the split in the river. At the moment, about 10 of the elves were singing enchantments to strengthen the frame that held the Talita together, while about 10 others were securely fastening down the Eldunari and the riders swords. For it would be a disaster if one of the Eldunari smashed or if one of the swords came loose and cut a hole in the hull, which could spell the end of their merry adventure in no time.
So far, none of the Eldunari had recovered from Galbatorix's control of them, although several of those were showing promise. The ones that had slightly recovered, and were not liable to suddenly reach out with their minds, and attack someone, had been transferred to the pocket of space fixed to Saphira where they were treated with more company in order to speed up their recovery. A slightly-mad dragon assailing their consciousness had already happened multiple times on their journey. The most recent was when one of the older dragons were trying to talk to a relatively young dragon, and they had accidentally said or communicated something that was offensive. The young dragon in question did not take very kindly to this and spent the next minute, while the other dragons tried to contain him, lashing out at the elven minds on board. It had been annoying not just because it was an inconvenience but also because they had lost headway up the river, the elves who were rowing at the time, instead of paddling had to concentrate on defending themselves from the anguish of the young dragon.
In an exchange some of the other Eldunari who were completely sane, the ones who had spent the majority of the past 100 years on Vroengard, were transferred to the Talita and spend time among those who were healing not so well. He was confident that they, mostly meaning the Eldunari, would be able to restore the rest, or at least the majority of the Eldunari that were formally under Galbatorix's control too sanity. At least the Eldunari who were still raving mad and furious at Galbatorix had given the elves permission to draw from their vast stores of energy. That had made a whole lot of Elves sigh with relief as many of the Eldunari from Galbatorix's reign still had much of their strength left while the ones from Vroengard had much of their energy sapped when they had to perform his own empathy spell and also shield them from Galbatorix's suicide. Strength would sorely be needed when they started constructing the dragon rider city and also winding enchantments into the very earth, just like with the Vroengard and many of the elven cities.
Putting aside his thoughts he wandered over to Blodhgarm, just before he was about to motion for Blodhgarm to join him, one of the elves at the prow of the ship shouted out with a gleeful voice "I can see the split, it is only a mile yonder", all around him the elves began to laugh with joy, everyone had had their fair share of time spent at the oars. It was during this time that they had learnt how tiring it could be sitting down on a stool, pulling a long stick with a dinner plate like thing sticking out the end, through the water. After he had spoken with Blodhgarm about how the other elves were going, he strode over to Yaela who was sitting down on a stool, pulling hard at the oars.
This would be his last stretch at the oars for a long time he thought as he smiled at Yaela, who had just finished her finished her shift and was now in the act of handing over to oars to him. He took the oars from Yaela, but his smile soon vanished to be replaced by a face of exhaustion, the Eldunari were pushing him as hard as ever, if not more. At least now he was beginning to get used to it and improving in all his disciplines, whether it be magic or muscle, flexibility or fighting he was slowly making headway. He was now able to fend Umaroth for several minutes, but after that time period Eragon faltered in his concentration and time after time Umaroth was able to isolate Eragon's mind with depressive ease. Thankfully, Umaroth did not seem displeased, in fact he seemed remarkably pleased the last time they had engaged in all out mind battles at the speed of thought, probably due to his rapid progress.
His flexibility on the other hand was not going so well, he could hardly complete the Rimgar's third level in a timely fashion. He had embarked on a second round of the dance of Snake and Crane every day, this one at the end of his training routine, instead of at the start. However he had only recently started this second routine recently and the results were yet to show, except for him being slightly more tired at the end of the day. The flexibility that the Rimgar had granted him had improved his swordsmanship and if he faced Murtagh now, their duel he was sure would be a slight fraction closer than it had been before the king had been killed.
It was not that Murtagh would get much use of his sword that far up north; any creatures living up there in those icy climes would probably be too small to properly practice fighting and killing with a sword. As far as Eragon knew, there were no people living as far as north as where Murtagh was probably now, not even elves, although they would have probably long ago vacated the area if they had seen a not-so-friendly dragon flying overhead. The only things he knew that were north of Du Weldenvarden were El Harim and that building marked on the map labelled fear in the ancient language. He had heard of El Harim before but he could not remember, he had a funny feeling that Brom had told him about it in one of his stories and maybe it had later cropped up when he and Nasuada were discussing things over dinner. It still felt good and unusual that he could call Brom his father. The more he thought about it the more proud he was of being Brom's son. His father had set up the Varden, severely weakened and destabilized Galbatorix's tyrannical regime, raised a friendly dragon rider long enough in hostile territory for him to be able to fend off most threats and he himself was a powerful dragon rider. Although he was still not entirely sure about his mother, he was proud of the lineage that he had.
Gradually he drifted into a trance-like state, and after an hour or so of pulling at the oars and using the alone time to mull, albeit at a very slow pace, over the months events, he suddenly encountered a lot more resistance. Now instead of at least being able to take a short rest between each stroke, he had to pull harder, faster and more often just to break even with the rivers downward pull. If the pace kept up like this for a few minutes, he would surely exhaust himself, maybe even fall unconscious. In one corner of his mind he was telling himself that they might already be at the split in the river, but at the moment it was incomprehendable as he struggled to keep his breathing even and keep in time with the other elves' oar strokes.
Nasuada wondered what to do with the man kneeling before her, on one hand he had been caught manufacturing the emperor's coins with magic, which were manufactured to such a high quality that they were able to fool nobles, as well commoners. This crime immediately warranted at least a public whipping, or even maybe a few years in a jail cell. Then again life was not that simple she sighed, there was no black and white, just infinite greyness.
The arguments weighing against Althalos being punished was that he had been caught before there was any harm done and he was one of the few magicians not in the original Du Vrangr Gata to agree with her rules about magic, despite the misgivings he might have towards her. According to Trianna, he had actively tried to persuade fellow magicians to pledge themselves to the Throne, and he knew enough of the ancient language to tell Trianna that the coins he had manufactured were the only ones he had done so far. As Nasuada well knew, words spoken in the ancient language did not tell lies, however they could bend the truth. She did not think however, that the magician knew enough words, or was fluent enough, to manipulate the truth. Especially since he had not said some of the sentences he had been instructed to say, which indicated that he was not well versed in the art of lying inconspicuously in the ancient language. He had been told what a sentence in the ancient language meant and had been forced to try to repeat it, which apparently could tell whether or not he was guilty.
He was obviously a man of many secrets, objectives that could not be thwarted by vows in the ancient language and also the possessor of great intellect, just like many who had stood before her, but when she had looked closer she had seen what appeared to be a good person. Snapping herself back to the present she shifted her gaze from one of the walls to him. "Instead of punishing like my advisors say I should, I will let you go on three, no make that four conditions" she said, "Continue" the magician said with a wave of his hand. Taking a deep breath, because she knew the conditions would aggravate him or make him refuse, she continued "One, you will swear additional oaths in the ancient language" to this condition he nodded, and she was slighted, but she continued after a moment, unabated in her bearing, "Second, you will write a report to me, every three months, of the magic you have witnessed and have performed, you do not however, need to name names." This condition, unlike the last one, he took a while considering, until after a few minutes of uncomfortable silence he consented with a short bob of his small head.
Again, she took her time before stating, "Thirdly, you will do all you can do, without endangering yourself or diminishing your status, to promote my cause" she thought this one would be an easy decision for him, and her expectations were fulfilled. The last condition was the one that he was most unlikely to agree with. "Fourthly" she said, "Every year, from now until you lose your gift of magic or die, you need to serve 15 days towards whoever sits upon this high chair, and I regret to say that if you do not abide by this clause, I have no further options except to punish you." After a few minutes which he spent deep in thought, and it seemed that the more time elapsed the more likely it would be that he would refuse; he finally came to a conclusion.
"Five" he said in such a confident tone that he startled her, but if it was a ploy designed to put her off balance it did not work, she knew that was too little so she bargained, as if she was a little girl at one of the marketplaces. "Ten" she said, and she knew he was swayed, even if it was only in the slightest. He still took another few minutes before he came to his decision, but she could not begrudge him because he was signing away a significant portion of his life if he agreed to someone whom he did not particularly like. "Done, it's a deal" he said in a slightly dejected tone after his contemplation, she sighed with relief, she did not want to sentence him as he seemed like a good man despite not knowing what his intentions with the money he had manufactured were.
"Farica, my helper, and Trianna, leader of the corps of magicians, are outside the door" she said, "Tell Farica she can enter now, and tell Trianna you agreed to my requests, she will handle the arrangements for what needs to be done. Goodbye, I hope not see you again for a while, unless it is of your own accord, otherwise I will not be so lenient" she dismissed him with a wave of her hand. Before he was about to exit the room, he seemed to think twice about something. He turned around said "Thank you, Your Majesty" and bowed deeply, before he spun, strode over to the door, opened it and walked out, stopping to tell Trianna and Farica about what she asked to happen.
She saw Farica worryingly glance back at the door, as if the magician had played a trick and was coming back with a vengeance. "Did I surprise you Farica" Nasuada said, "That you did, your majesty" replied Farica, "but you are not the only one I am surprised at, I thought the magician would refuse, four conditions seem an awful lot for a crime that he had yet to commit." Nasuada paused for a moment as she considered how to respond to this, "You are forgetting" she responded "That he would have to do 2 of the 4 conditions after he was released anyway, his reputation would be shattered. At least now he can retain some sense of honour and decency, by pledging himself even more so than others to the throne." Farica did not look convinced but she kept whatever inner doubts she had too herself. "I know what you are thinking" Nasuada said "but he appeared to be an honest man, and even though I know appearances can be deceiving I still think that he means well, even if he may have a clouded disposition. He did not gain anything more than if he had stayed in a cell for a few months."
Farica knew that it was not the most appropriate time, with both of them having had a long hard day, to discuss the morality of letting people go, but she could not help but dismiss this idea as naïve. Nasuada caught the expression on her mentor's face but chose to ignore it, "Let us abandon this discussion" she said "we can have it at a later date, for now we should content ourselves with eating that dinner that they should bring over here in a few minutes."
After she finished checking for poisons through the use of Elva, she and Farica dined alone in the Throne room. Tonight's dinner was lamb, seasoned with a few herbs and then cooked upon a spit, it was perfectly cooked, and the only thing lacking was volume. Preceding the lamb was a salad, with various root vegetables mixed in, and marinated with some spicy condiment and something else which she could not pinpoint with a name. The only thing to mar her experience of dinner was that one of the assistant chefs had spilled the dessert and they had not had time to make another. So it was no dessert for tonight which had annoyed her, but she had pressured the person who had delivered the meals to make sure that nothing ill came of the clumsy assistant chef. After all, he was just trying to do his job to the best of his ability, and was probably mortified when he had sent the high queens desert crashing down onto the floor, not to mention the fear of retribution from very angry superiors. She was sure he would not make the same mistake again, the head chef would see to that, and that he would be more careful in the Kitchen.
As Elva accompanied them down the long stone passageway on the way to their private quarters, she thought back on the deal that she had struck with Elva. In return for Elva's services and the incomparable protection that she provided to Nasuada, Elva had almost limitless funds, service almost on par with the service that Nasuada herself received and basically the ability do whatever she wanted except for abandoning service to Nasuada. At least Elva was slowly improving her manners; Nasuada felt that she could no longer be unbalanced by Elva and Elva had yet to prove that this was untrue, which meant that Elva could not just demand things through sweet talking. Since Elva spent so much time around her, she gradually adopted her polite mannerisms, slowly at first, but with quickening speed. She was not sure whether if this was good or not, it might make her gift even more pronounced or effective, but it certainly meant that people thought more highly of her and that she did not offend as many people, which could only be good.
A/N: Good day to everyone. Hope you enjoyed the chapter. Please review and thanks for reading. Thank you to the people who are following, whether it is me or the story it does not matter, thanks for the support. Thank you also to those numerous people I didn't mention and the people who have stuck through the good and the bad chapters. Update: Probs. 5 day. Good bye for now
Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to Inheritance Cycle, those belong Christopher Paolini, and his publishers. I do however own the characters that I will come up with and the story (maybe stories) that are yet to follow.
P.S. Does anybody have an idea why when I look at the number of views the story has it says N/A?