My latest update. I would be grateful if I got more reviews, it helps me cater to the wishes of a wider selection of readers. Thank you for reading!

Regards,

Karldin.

CHAPTER 10

"I sense that you are less than satisfied with the arrangement, Barristan Shur'tugal. Well, that seems a mouthful. Do I have your permission to call you Barristan?" asked King Palencar lightly, as they walked through the halls of Illirea. Morning light filtered through the high windows and gave a new perspective to the beautiful paintings that adorned the walls.

Barristan liked the mornings here in Illirea, they were so fresh and full of life. He had missed being in a human city. A beautifully detailed painting caught his eye, a painting of a young man holding up a sapphire coloured blade of glowing blue fire. The sword was beautiful, yet elegant and deadly…Barristan recognized the colour of the scales and only one dragon in the world possessed that colour.

"Shur'tugal?" asked Palencar, his sight falling upon the mural as well. Barristan tore his eyes away from the painting, the young man in it seemed somewhat familiar. He heard Cirnathor's amused derision as he turned to the king.

"Call me Barristan, Majesty. And I am perfectly fine with the assignment. Nuada is far wiser than me and I am sure he has a reason for choosing me" said Barristan. Palencar nodded at his words.

"I am sure that he does" he said, glancing up once more at the painting of the brown-eyed man with the sword of fire. "I see you are absorbed by the painting of your master, Barristan. He has changed enormously over the years, but that is how my mother remembered him. And that is how he was painted on to the wall...a symbol for all of us to hold close to our hearts" he finished solemnly.

"I never knew his sword looked like that" said Barristan softly. "It is so…unique. It suits him". Palencar nodded, interested by this piece of information. Why would the Shadeslayer not reveal that sword to his students? He slowly ran his hand over the wine-red blade that he wore at his side.

The very blade that earned Eragon Shur'tugal the title of Shadeslayer. This was the blade that stabbed into Durza's black heart and won the old Varden the battle of Farthen Dur. The blade he wore at his side was fitting for a King, and it bespoke of the story of three very different Riders.

And him.

"Have you truly never seen Brisingr?" asked Palencar idly, smoothing the front of the elegant elven silk robe he wore. Barristan shook his head as they walked through the ornate and empty corridor reserved for royalty alone.

"I am afraid not, your Majesty. Ebrithil has not drawn Brisingr openly for many decades now. I have always wondered why, but I never asked. Many of the Riders of my generation have never seen him in combat. I have always wished to spar with him…" said Barristan in a distant voice. Palencar grinned at this…he could always use some practice. Being King often gave him toadies who would rather lose to him than offend him, the opportunity to test himself was quite rare.

"My dear Rider, I think I can satisfy your need for a spar" he said, as they neared his personal training room. Courteously, he opened a door, gesturing for Barristan to enter. The excitement in the young Rider's eyes only increased as he saw the perfect facilities the king commanded.

Rows of weapons adorned every side of the arena, which was well lit by a skylight from the high ceiling. The walls were of a milky marble, but the training area was of a durable wood.

No doubt it was sung into shape by elven magicians, came Cirnathor's voice to him. Barristan nodded, tree-singing was never his talent. Palencar looked at his amazed face with satisfaction.

"Have you completed the morning's Rimgar?" he questioned solicitously. Barristan looked at the king with shocked eyes…Rimgar was a routine reserved only for Alfakyn and Shur'tugal. He certainly did not expect for the King to know of it.

"I have. But how-?"

"I was taught it, by a man I admire deeply" said Palencar as his eyes narrowed with concentration. Barristan drew his sword with a steely sound, and Palencar immediately saw that the young Rider was a very competent swordsman.

It was an ordinary sword…so he had not acquired a Rider's blade yet. But Palencar was certain he would have found a temporary solution at the least to the quandary, so he unhesitatingly drew his blade. The silence in the bright arena grew even more as Barristan's eyes widened considerably.

"This is Zar'roc" he said, his eyes shining with an excitement and focus that belied his age. "Let us fight, Barristan" he said loudly, and pivoted through the air with great dexterity. Their swords met with a clang, and Barristan pushed the king back with an effort.

This two-legs is different, Barristan.

I know, he said as he launched himself at Palencar as fast as he could. Their blades met each other in quick succession, too quick for even the most observant human eye. Barristan narrowly avoided being decapitated, and charged Palencar with a series of rapid blows to his right side, which were blocked well.

Then with a roar he spun and brought the blade to the King's left side, it whistling through the air. His eyes became round as Palencar dodged his slash with fluidity, bending so far that his chest was parallel to the ground. With ease, the King flipped like an acrobat and landed on his feet with a smile.

They held their swords to the side and circled each other. Palencar with a calm but competitive expression, and Barristan focusing with his entire mind. This King fought unlike any other opponent he had sparred with, and his speed and strength were definitely close to Elven.

How-?Concentrate, Barristan! I will not have my Rider defeated because his head was in the clouds! Snapped Cirnathor. Barristan nodded and readied himself for the next bout.

They rushed to meet at the center of their prowling, exchanging blows with such strength that sparks flew between them. Barristan watched as Palencar caught his swing neatly upon his blade with a smirk and nearly got hit as the King's leg rose to greet his face.

"Alright, that does it" muttered Barristan as the King watched him with a taunting expression. He slid into the first stance of the modified Rimgar of his Ebrithil, holding his sword parallel to the ground behind him. Even this new Rimgar of Eragon Shadeslayer had levels.

So far he had managed to master the traditional Rimgar and barely the first stage of the new Rimgar. It will have to do, said Cirnathor surely. Center yourself, Barristan, just like Ebrithil taught us. The sword is you, you are the sword. This King is good, but you are as good. Flow through the stances, Barristan.

Peace enveloped Barristan as he looked calmly at the King, who rushed him with forceful swings of Zar'roc. But Barristan blocked every swing with a flick and turn of his own sword, feeling the magic that held it together weaken at the hammering it was taking.

He twisted and turned, weaving through every quick slash of Zar'roc and blocking them with his own sword. The Rimgar aided him as he incorporated its stances in his fight, only defending and not attacking. It was past time to end this fight, and he ducked under Palencar's thrust to perform a manoeuvre that was rightfully Yaela's. He drew his arm back and swung so hard at Palencar that the King staggered slightly when he blocked, and Barristan used that very small window of time to smoothly turn and simultaneously toss the hilt of his sword to his left hand all behind his back.

An instant later, his sword was at Palencar's throat and so too was Palencar's at his. Barristan sighed disappointedly as he sheathed his sword with a quick motion…A draw, he could not even beat a human. No wonder Alanna had defeated him so easily.

"An excellent fight, Barristan" said the King with a cheerful voice. "Ah, do not fret. I am not your average human King, you know. You are excellent at the arts of swordsmanship. If I may I ask, what was that last move?"

Barristan walked behind the King as they strode towards the throne room. His tunic and robes dripped with sweat but Palencar was as pristine as ever. Elves and their cleverness, snorted Barristan to himself as he replied:

"A move I borrowed from a fellow Rider, your Majesty" he said, and Palencar nodded. "Now, If I may ask a question in return…how did you come to possess the blade of Murtagh Morzansson? My Ebrithil was often in want of news of Murtagh" stated Barristan, barely concealing his eagerness.

"Murtagh…" sighed Palencar. "He is many things to many people. Tell your Ebrithil Murtagh is alive as is his Dragon, Thorn. And as for how I acquired Zar'roc…it is a tale that must wait until after I meet with the Urgal ambassador, I am afraid"

"Oh, Urgal ambassador?" asked Barristan curiously. "Can I accompany you, majesty? I have never seen a real Urgal before" he said sheepishly as they paused at the massive doors to the throne room.

"No shame in that, old boy" said Palencar in a jolly tone as he clapped Barristan in a comradely fashion. "You will be seeing a lot more of them than is healthy for us humans, I fear. But they do have a certain endearing straightforwardness, I suppose. An Urgal tells you something like he sees it…unlike those convoluted elves" he said dryly.

"Well-"

Majesty, I know you are just behind the doors. Hoping that the Urgal ambassador will go away with your lateness will not work once more. He is stubborn to see you, and he is quite willing to wait! Came Barden's admonishment to their ears.

Barristan looked with amusement at the rather embarrassed King. For someone who was so experienced, Palencar was all too easy to confuse with a scheming youth.

"I guess it cannot be helped" said Palencar in a tired voice. "That trick has gotten old, I suppose. Let us go greet the great Yarghra son of Yarbog then, Barristan. Assuming he does not make me faint with his guttural bellows" said the King sardonically making Barristan grin.

It was good to be back among humans, even if for a short while.

….

Eragon turned as the door opened slowly, watching as Arya quietly made her way to him. She was as beautiful as ever, wearing a grey tunic and leggings and a simple silver girdle. Closer examination made him conclude that Tamerlein had been modified slightly to suit her needs.

"Atra esterni ono thelduin, Eragon-elda" said Arya softly, inclining her head to Eragon who responded in like. They both turned to Varda who was struggling to access the magic within her, trying to manipulate fire. Eragon watched her sadly as he saw only her fascination with the beauty of fire. He hated to teach children the tools of violence so early, but Roran's imaginings had ignited a fiery caution in his heart for his apprentice's safety.

"I believe you should not let children play with fire, Eragon" said Arya with slight amusement as she saw Varda murmur "Brisingr" over and over again, sometimes igniting a small fire in her palm. Eragon favoured her with a small smile as he went to Varda and knelt to face her.

"Varda" he said, and she looked at him with frustrated eyes. Eragon saw Arya watching out of the corner of his eye as he laid a hand on Varda's shoulder, projecting to her feelings of calm and focus. He smiled as her erratic breathing grew even, and spoke:

"You are trying too hard" he said softly. "This is not the regimen…you must not force the magic" he said gently. Varda nodded, feeling the tranquillity he projected. Eragon knew the younglings' impatience all too well, they wanted things too fast and did not care how they got there.

"Look around" said Eragon, pointing to his large hall with all its pillars and gems. Varda looked with a perplexed face, as Eragon continued. "All this exists because of magic. Magic is the thing that holds reality together, an unexplainable force that we are privileged enough to use" he said, trying to convey to her the preciousness of Gramarye. The precocious child seemed to understand, and nodded with wonder as new thoughts seemed to bloom.

"So" he said, releasing his grip upon her shoulder. "It is not something to be forced. It is something to be guided gently and respected, for it is a power far greater than us. You must be patient, Varda"

"I will, Ebrithil" said the young Rider as she closed her eyes. Eragon smiled as he saw his young apprentice enter the trance of meditation, very pleased that she had grasped his words and directions so quickly. He walked back to Arya and saw her staring at Varda with an unreadable face. She looked at him as he approached her, and Eragon noted a faint sense of longing as she glanced occasionally at Varda.

"You teach very well, Eragon" she said in a distant voice and seemed to gather herself immediately. "I came to ask if you were alright…yesterday's conversations were taxing for all of us" she said in a tone of concern.

"It will take Varda some time to ignite the fire" he said, glancing at Varda who seemed to be searching for the magic within her. Arya nodded, and followed Eragon out of his quarters as they strode outside the Dragonkeep. The dwarves were bustling about in Tronjheim, far below their position.

They watched silently as they stood beside each other under the Star Rose where their story had truly begun a hundred odd years ago. Eragon's memories flashed as he walked towards the centre of the large hall, remembering his and Durza's duel to the death.

"This place…it is where I truly proved myself for the first time" said Eragon as Arya joined him. "I remember how Saphira breathed fire here and how you broke the Isidar Mithrim to distract Durza. I remember how I set Zar'roc alight and ended Durza, I remember the pain of my cleaved back" he said with a haunted voice.

"I remember as well" said Arya quietly. "But you did not answer my question, Eragon"

"I am fine, your Majesty" he said in a cool tone, causing Arya to look at him with the barest anger showing itself on her face. "It was just something I needed to mull upon. I am fine now, you can be assured I will not fly off the handle like I did yesterday"

Arya strode briskly towards him, and gripped his hand strongly. "Eragon, we are friends are we not?"

Eragon took time to consider the question, which seemed to hurt Arya. "We definitely are" he replied with a sure voice, and Arya looked at him square in the eyes.

"Then I must tell you two things" she said. To Eragon, she seemed to be gathering resolve and courage as she chose her words.

"Firstly, I wish you would stop addressing me as the Queen. I am still Arya, the elf you rescued in Gil'ead when no one did, the elf you stood by when she was beset by grief…and the one true friend in all her tribulations. I am Arya. It feels strange when you are so formal with me" she said, with shining eyes.

Eragon found himself lost in her emerald eyes and in her words. Arya, it seemed, had changed tremendously from the war…she seemed so much more open with her feelings. Again the bitter irony of the situation struck: Arya was the one reaching out to him now, and he was the one guarding his heart from her. She was something he could never have, fate had seen to that a long time ago.

"Call me Arya, Eragon" she said in her soft melodious voice and looking at him with large eyes. Eragon slowly raised his hand, tucking her raven hair behind her ears. He felt Saphira's encouragement run through him in a torrent, giving him the courage to utter her name.

It did not escape his notice that Arya had closed her eyes at his touch, and her breathing was so very slightly uneven. Eragon bent to whisper in her ear, bracing himself for the inevitable needles of loss that would tear him apart when he said her name.

"Arya" he said, and blinked as he felt the same as before. Saphira roared in utter joy, her happiness saturating his very being. There was no pain, none at all. He closed his eyes, and opened them after a moment to stare at Arya's beautiful green eyes.

"Arya" he said again, savouring the name as it rolled off his tongue. Arya shivered as she pressed Eragon's hand to her cheek with her own, as joy burst in her heart at how much feeling Eragon put behind her name. No longer was he cold, treating her as just another Drottning.

Sahloknir's and Saphira's joy combined with his own, and a tear slid down his face as he felt himself changing. A very delicate hand wiped the tear off his cheek, and he saw Arya's hand caressing his face gently. In the scant morning light of Farthen Dur, Eragon could appreciate once more the beauty and power Arya held within and felt as if his twisted soul was somehow freeing itself a little, bringing him an appreciation and tranquillity that was missing for decades now.

"Arya, my dear friend" he said in the ancient language and the Lead Rider's eyes to widen as she slowly laid her head on his chest. Eragon enfolded her within his arms and knew that somehow, inexplicably, a part of the gaping void in his soul had been filled. He felt something for Arya…nowhere near to what he once felt for her, of that he was sure. But it was there.

"The second thing?" he asked of the woman he held to his chest. Arya looked up at him, and smiled. "The second thing, Eragon, is that you must remember just how easily I could read you. I can still do so to a certain extent" she said in a light voice, her heart pounding as she stood in his warm embrace.

"I will, Arya" he said, for some reason running his hand through her silky raven locks. He had no idea why he was still drawn to her this way…he had quite literally killed his feelings for her.

Remember Valdr's words, Eragon. Nothing dies…it is only transformed to suit the needs of the universe. There is no death, there is only change, echoed Saphira's words in his mind.

A shrill scream cut off his train of thought, and he turned to see smoke emerging from his room. Nodding to Arya, he ran with her to open the door as fear claimed his heart.

Varda had set his room on fire. It seemed that his instruction had been a little too effective as fire raged about Varda, not harming her only because of the wards he had set on her earlier. The world rippled as Arya spoke the Name of Names, cutting Varda's connection to the spell and causing it to die out immediately.

Eragon! How could you leave her there to practice with fire, while you and Arya did…did whatever you two were doing! You know exactly how curious Varda is!, berated Saphira. Eragon did not reply, instead rushing to the panting girl who was looking at her Gedwey Ignasia with awe.

"Varda! Thank the ancient Dragons you are fine!" said Eragon in an urgent voice, looking her over for injuries. Varda looked down shamefacedly, speaking in a small voice:

"S-Sorry, Ebrithil. I was…I was curious as to what would happen if one combined Thrysta with Brisingr" she said. Eragon's eyes widened at this, as did Arya's…this girl was a walking disaster.

"That was dangerous, Varda, very dangerous" said Eragon in a stern tone, making Varda look at him with sad and apologetic eyes. Eragon's eyes glowed and the remnants of the fire died out silently. He looked at Varda with such concern that Arya came to him and laid a hand upon his shoulder.

"You must not use random words of power until I am there to supervise you, do you understand?" he asked harshly, and Varda nodded.

"Yes, Ebrithil" she said in a smaller voice. Eragon suddenly gathered her up in a hug, making her eyes widen at her Ebrithil's extremely uncharacteristic display of emotion. "Don't ever do that again, Varda" he said to the young Rider, who nodded against his chest. He could see the myriad emotions in Arya's eyes as he comforted Varda…and himself.

But confusion raged in Eragon's heart at this new change in himself he could not understand. Where is all this emotion coming from? He asked himself, Saphira, the world itself.

You are healing slowly, Eragon. I can at last see in you a hint of how you used to be before that day…you are healing, said Saphira's thankful voice in his mind. Sahloknir's voice echoed in all their minds, except in Varda's. His expression turned grave as the golden Dragon announced:

Ebrithil, you and the Elven queen must come soon and meet with King Orik. Laetri is already here…An elf has been killed in Tarnag, he finished with a slight outrage leaking out of his deep voice.

We will come, Sahloknir.

"Varda, take my hand" said Eragon, and Arya saw the impassiveness steal over his face as it did over hers. She offered him her hand and he took it as well.

Meet us there, Saphira.

It had begun, and his instincts and Saphira's told him this was only the beginning. They felt darkness in the future…but he would not let it grow or fester. A blast of Indigo light hit the huge hall everywhere, and when it cleared they had disappeared from sight.

It had begun.

…

Orik's chambers seemed oppressive, even its opulence serving to heighten the gloom it held.

"Eragon, you are here!" exclaimed Orik as a bright flash of indigo light revealed Eragon and Arya with Varda. Laetri came to stand opposite Eragon, examining his face quite thoroughly. Then a smile bloomed across her face as she said in a low, grateful voice:

"You have changed"

Eragon nodded solemnly, feeling more at peace than ever. He turned as Arya faced to Orik seriously, her eyes flashing with hidden anger. It was understandable, for an elf had not died at the hands of the other races since Galbatorix's death. This event occurring now signified a dark change in the patterns of fate, and they all knew it.

"Orik Konungr, I hear an Alfakyn was killed at Tarnag. Will you please elaborate?" she asked, coldness seeping into her voice. Orik stared at her for a moment, and then sighed.

"I deserve the hostility" he said sadly "Mine people entered into the Accord of the Races in good faith, and now this has happened. Will you be voiding the accord now, Queen Arya?" asked Orik. Arya did not relent.

"That remains to be seen. But I would like to know…who of my people was killed in Tarnag?" she asked, her fist clenching imperceptibly. Laetri and Eragon stood quietly, choosing not to interfere in a matter that did not have a hand in, as of now. Varda was staring at the monarchs with innocently surprised eyes and Eragon saw her forming opinions rapidly.

"It is my place to answer, Majesty" said Vanir, stepping into the room, acknowledging those who were present with a bow. Arya turned her attention to Vanir, and said: "I wish for answers now, ambassador"

"It was Damitha" said Vanir in a rush. Arya gripped Tamerlein's hilt hard, and the name echoed in Eragon's head familiarly. Vanir continued, his eyebrows slanted with anger.

"She was there as a representative of our race, but she was also helping me clandestinely to investigate Az Sweldn rak Anhuin. She was a strong warrior, a veteran of the battle of Illirea where King Evandar fought…I cannot imagine any dwarf being strong enough to kill her" he said sorrowfully. Arya said nothing, and Eragon saw her trying to contain her grief…Saphira's voice echoed in his head, Eragon, we must respond. I have a feeling this reaches much deeper than what we have heard today.

Eragon acknowledged the fact, and laid a hand on Varda's shoulders for he felt the slightest of trembles from her. Calm yourself, young one. You will understand much about nations and their rulers if you just observe how they act. You can leave if this distresses you…

Varda shook her head and stood her ground, making Eragon proud and sad. She was too young, but it was her duty. Sometimes he hated that word but it was his lifeblood.

"No, neither can I" said Arya in a hard voice. "I will not let this pass, King Orik" she said to Orik with anger leaking from her voice. "Damitha was a great friend of mine, and a great asset to our nation. If Az Sweldn rak Anhuin is found to be responsible, the Alfakyn will make the dwarven nation pay" she declared with steel in her voice. Eragon could see just how much this death distressed her…even to the extent that it swayed her judgement.

Orik's anger now erupted at the direct threat to his nation. Eragon watched quietly as the discussion devolved into thinly veiled threatening. Laetri frowned at Arya's lapse, for the Elven Queen was a consummate politician.

"Oh you will, will you? Elves, always the same. Blaming entire races for the actions of a few. It is not like I expected anything more from you, Arya Drottning. Like mother, like daughter" said Orik in a cutting voice as he gripped Volund in his right hand.

"What are you implying?" whispered Arya as her emerald eyes flashed with her anger and distress. Orik looked into her eyes, both monarchs challenging each other in a contest of wills.

"Islanzadi was the same when she cut off support to the Varden during your capture" said Orik scathingly. "Now you threaten mine people with war because of the death of your comrade! How is this fair?" he demanded.

Tamerlein left its sheath with a whistle, and a shocked Orik immediately raised Volund. Arya's cold voice filled the room as she glared at Orik: "Fair? You talk to me about fair? My race has not had children for a century, now. We do not breed indiscriminately like you dwarves!"

Orik made to reply, but Arya's raised hand stopped him.

"The elf your kinsmen killed, she was special! She was with child, with the very first elf-child to be born after the Dark King's fall…and she was killed in Tarnag where the Accord guaranteed safety. That she was even sent was a proof of our trust in the Dwarven Kingdoms and it has been broken most abominably!" she said in a voice of ice. Eragon's eyes widened, this was going a little too far. Killing an Elf maid with child… the very depravity of the act convinced him that he had returned in time.

This is truly deplorable said Saphira, with regret dripping from her voice. Such cruelty...Eragon, we must intervene if this threatens to get out of hand. We might even have to summon Riders from Aiedail to keep the peace.

No, Saphira. No more Riders will enter Alagaesia. Aiedail will be kept safe until it is strong enough to weather all assaults...it is our highest duty, given to us by the Eldunarya said Eragon to his Dragon.

Orik stared with absolute surprise, and then grief overtook his face as he bowed his head in apology to Arya, and then to Vanir and Laetri. "If mine Kinsmen are responsible, then they will not be spared. You have mine word, upon Volund I swear it" he said gravely.

The elven Queen inclined her head and the first hints of apology showed in her expressive green eyes. Perhaps that was a little excessive, murmured Firnen gently as Arya apologized to Orik who waved it away.

"I would act the same if not worse" he said gruffly. "I thank you for your restraint, Queen Arya. I know that the past rulers of your Race would not be so patient after such a crime" he said gratefully. Silence reigned, and Eragon knew that the one reason Arya had showed relative restraint was that there was no proof that Az Sweldn rak Anhuin was responsible. It was all circumstantial.

"Who was the father?" asked Laetri quietly, and Eragon and even Varda looked at the Elf queen. Vanir's face became even more alarmed as he considered this question, and Arya bowed her head in seeming defeat. After a few moments of silence she answered, sheathing Tamerlein and replying in a despairing voice:

"Lord Fiolr"

"Barzul" swore Orik loudly. Saphira's alarm flooded Eragon's mind, as did Sahloknir's. Fiolr was an elf-lord of great power and he was not going to forgive this easily, if at all. Laetri looked at him and as usual, they did not need words or even mind-speech to communicate such was the degree to which they understood each other.

"We must retrieve the late Captain's mortal remains before Lord Fiolr receives this news, and convey them to Ellesmera. Fiolr is an ancient elf-lord and his wrath will be terrible if he confronts the dwarves as he sees his mate's body" he said in a decisive voice.

Arya rose, looking at them all with haunted eyes.

"This is true" she said "We must go to Tarnag and retrieve her body. The elven nation will mourn for many years after this…this atrocity. Darkness has been unleashed this day by dwarves, and it will be hard to contain"

She turned to Eragon with a questioning look.

"I must do this myself. Anything else will be discourtesy…she deserves my respect. Can you transport me there, Eragon-elda?" she asked in a sincere voice. Eragon nodded, and Laetri's face firmed in her resolve.

"I will" he said, and stood tall.

"I have sworn the oaths of Anurin, and I hereby assume the ancient duty of the Riders to preserve the peace of Alagaesia", he said with the authority and strength of Vrael himself. Arya inclined her head in assent along with Orik and Vanir as Eragon openly involved himself in Alagaesian affairs once more.

"I will accompany you, for I must pass judgement personally if mine people are involved" said Orik seriously. "Give me two hours to set mine affairs in order. We will leave at dusk this day, if you are amenable. And Vanir, will you be joining us?"

"Of course" said Vanir, masking his anger with a typical elven manner. "Captain Damitha was well known to me, and was my mentor for a time. I will come"

"Let us then prepare" said Eragon, as he ushered Varda who was awed by the intensity of their discussions. Eragon often found younglings to be accepting and resilient, and Varda was more so than most.

"We meet in exactly three hours at the Dragonhold to leave for Tarnag" he said calmly. Laetri accompanied him and Varda, and he saw Arya look at him with hesitant and grief filled eyes. He reached out to her with compassion, and spoke in her mind:

As I am your friend, so too are you mine Arya. Everything you said to me I will say back to you. Do not shoulder this burden by yourself, please, not when you have other Riders at your side.

Arya gave him a long look, but walked towards him with sorrow leaking off her every action. Laetri put a comforting arm around her shoulders, and the three Riders felt the comfort and reassurance of their Dragons.

…

King Palencar was frankly getting quite tired of the Urgal's guttural and rather overbearing voice. He had dealt with Yarghra many times in the past decade, but this time he found himself bored and irritated. The Urgal ambassador, it seemed, was very close to giving him ultimatums in his own halls.

"….is reasonable. We henceforth demand that Carvahall and surrounding regions be ceded to us so our rams can remain peaceful. Firesword promised us more land-"

"And it was given" cut in Palencar. "Much of the spine was ceded to your race, and we were assured that it would be enough for the next few centuries. The moment your race attacked Carvahall, we have become wary of you"

Yarghra laughed derisively, his guttural laughter grating on Palencar like nothing else. As he looked around the large throne room, he saw the Lords and Nighthawks ready to draw swords. Only the Riders held their peace as they stood on either side of his throne, though he saw Barristan's hand twitch towards his weapon.

"You have only one person to blame for the current situation, King Palencar!" declared Yarghra almost hysterically. Palencar raised an eyebrow at this rather uncharacteristic behaviour of the Urgal…he was a brute, true, but he was a refined brute if that made any sense.

"Who is the newest candidate chosen to heap your troubles on?" enquired Palencar curiously. Barden's mouth twitched, and so too did Ildarien's. Yarghra looked taken aback for a moment at the king's apathetic attitude and then roared:

"Eragon Shadeslayer!"

The silence in the throne room was palpable and the Riders went rigid at this accusation. Palencar leaned forward with an openly exasperated expression.

"Really now, Yarghra. Please tell me what convoluted reason Nar Garzhvog has cooked up for this current theory of his. Last time it was the elves, and before that it was us I believe. Then for some reason two years ago he started on dwarves…and now, Eragon Shadeslayer?" asked Palencar, and this time the tension was diffused as grins broke out in the hall amongst the lords and even the Riders.

"You may mock us" ground out Yarghra standing up to his full height of seven and a half feet.

"But Firesword is to blame. He saw fit to include us in that blasted Rider bond, and the Ugralgra have benefited and suffered at the same time. We have two Riders-"

"If I may speak, Majesty" said Nuada, cutting into the Urgal's guttural harangue. Palencar nodded and all eyes turned to the elf as he spoke in his musical and quiet voice: "We wish to know what has happened to the Riders of the Ugralgra. You have not sent them to Aiedail as agreed so long ago with Blodhgarm, so the Riders wish to know if you will honour your agreement with us"

Yarghra scowled at him. "Our Riders are our own. They have chosen to stay with us, as have their Dragons"

"I see" murmured Nuada as he stepped back to stand beside Leya. "We will deal with this later. Please continue with your...uh, speech?" asked Nuada doubtfully. Yarghra glared at him, his chain armour clinking as he shook with rage. Palencar shot Nuada a small smile which was returned in kind.

"Yarghra, let us now conclude the rather impolite session I have had to endure with you" said Palencar lightly, and he saw the Urgal's anger mounting. He was beginning to detest Urgals despite all the warnings of his mother that this might happen.

"The answer to your outrageous demands is this: no. We will not yield anymore land to Urgals and no, we will definitely not yield Carvahall which is now under the direct protection of the Crown. You did know that Eragon Shadeslayer is in Alagaesia, did you not?" he asked grimly.

"We did, and we do not fear him. Him binding our race to the Dragons has resulted in the unnatural expansion of the Urgal race as a side effect. We will not perish from the land just because of human presence" roared Yarghra defiantly.

Palencar sighed. There was no help for it, he had somehow contained the situation with words and some force when necessary but the Urgals were truly getting out of control. If all else failed, he would have

"For years now I have been tolerant and understanding. But no more. Yarghra, take this message to Garzhvog" he said, his royalty apparent as he stared down the Kull of an ambassador.

"There will be war if the Kingdom is attacked with force by any Ugralgra" he announced, and enthusiastic murmurs rippled through the hall. Yarghra's eyes widened in his brutish face at this open declaration of Palencar's, who was seen as an extremely moderate King.

"The armies of Illirea are vast and unstoppable" continued Palencar in an ominous voice. "Our allies are strength itself: Elves, the elder race whose magic and strength cannot be withstood, Dwarves the masters of metals whose valour is sung of throughout the ages and the Riders" he said, and this time Yarghra looked slightly concerned.

Nuada, Barristan, Leya and Ildarien stepped forth as one and the hall fell into silence once more. The significance of the situation was not lost on anyone, for if the Riders were to enter the battle the scales would be tipped enormously.

"If you insist on increasing your hostility, we will respond accordingly" warned Nuada quietly. "Your services in overthrowing the Dark King have not been forgotten, nor will they be. But the truth is this: We must resolve this in a peaceful manner or risk the extinction of the Urgal race" he said gravely.

"We knew it" snarled Yarghra, incensed by Nuada's threat of extinction. "We knew that the Riders would side against us. You have always been against our Race! Now we know that you are nothing but self-serving and biased!"

"You are the ones siding against Alagaesia" said Leya sadly. "Land can be found for you, yet you have denied the King's offer of the islands. Your obstinacy has jeopardized much"

"We will not be scared off the mainland by some humans" said Yarghra, and Palencar felt a slight headache at the ambassador's intractability. "We will fight for our land, Shur'tugal! Never again will we trust the other races so freely, ever again" he shouted in his guttural growl and barged out of the throne room disrespectfully.

Palencar immediately stood up and stared around the assembled dignitaries with a hard face. He knew very well what he must do now…there was no other time to unify the myriad lords of the land as the present. Yarghra's outrageous speech was still fresh in their minds and Palencar seemed to capitalize on that fact. As a Nighthawk strode purposefully towards the quickly departing Yarghra, Palencar shouted for him to stop.

"Let him be. We will respect honour even if those godforsaken beasts do not do so!" he shouted and the court's shout shook the hall like Shruikan's did a century ago. Palencar strode down the floor, his cape trailing behind him as he drew Zar'roc with a steely whistle and lifted it high. The wine-red blade glinted beautiful and deadly as Palencar whipped the lords into frenzy with his charisma and passion.

Careful, Majesty. I hope you will not instil too much enthusiasm in them…our defence must not become an outright slaughter of the races, said Nuada's voice in his head. Palencar acknowledged the point silently as he shouted:

"Will we let our homes be taken by those horned brutes?" asked Palencar loudly and the court responded with a resounding no. "Will we, the custodians of mankind itself, let our tolerance of a century be spat upon by those animals?"

The nobles roared their defiance, their eyes reflecting the same anger and pride Palencar showed upon his face. He paced in front of his throne and pointed to it with Zar'roc:

"That seat there is my birth right" he whispered. "But even I am its servant. We all are…its servants" he said solemnly. He closed his eyes and felt the passion and solemnity pervade the room. He then raised his sword to the ceiling and asked them a single question:

"Lords of Illirea, I hereby officially declare war upon the beasts who have spurned our peace and have wrought havoc upon our villages. Do we fight, then, to defend ourselves?" he asked with a fierce smile.

A Hundred long swords were drawn as one, the light glinting off their sharp blades ominously as the assembled Nobles affirmed in one voice their decision. Behind Palencar even the Riders had drawn their blades in a smooth motion, their voices echoing deeply in the minds of all those present.

"WE WILL FIGHT, LORD KING!"

We will fight.

….