CHAPTER 12
Come then, Ismira and Belegroch. Come and fight me.
Eragon cast that thought throughout Tarnag as he strode towards a dark alley that lay next to the dwarven sanctum of Celbedeil. He could clearly hear the light but fast run of an opponent of the Caliber of a Rider, and closed his eyes to extend his mind all throughout the city to feel the entirety of its existence just like Oromis had taught him.
He could hear and see everything around him, to a degree impossible for the eyes to perceive. This ability was one of the many reasons Riders were feared in battle, for it enabled them to be so aware that deception was nearly impossible. The image of a massive black Dragon drifted to the front of his mind sent by his partner of his heart, Saphira. Shifting his perception to view the world through her eyes for an instant, he saw with anticipation that Belegroch was upon them and he felt Saphira's anger as they saw Belegroch arch his neck.
He opened his eyes to stare at the sky, seeing nothing except the vast expanse of the endless heavens. But he could feel Belegroch's mind shielded by powerful barriers, a consciousness that was concealed from him. He felt Laetri's thoughts brush against his own, warning him urgently.
Eragon, Belegroch is hidden in the night clouds above! He is about to fill the square with his fire, and we do not want to see Tarnag turned into a burned heap.
Eragon said nothing but turned his Indigo eyes to where he felt Belegroch's presence in the sky. I will stop him for now, Laetri and Arya. He has arrived first, it seems.
So be it, Eragon-elda returned Arya and he felt her alertness increase. He felt Ismira observing them from somewhere around them, some building that ringed the vast city square of Tarnag. It seemed she would wait for him to repel Belegroch's fire before she attacked.
The air felt slightly warmer, and the ground shook slightly…the only warnings Eragon had as he heard the fire building in Belegroch high in the sky. Laetri was right, their wards would protect them but Tarnag would burn if he let Belegroch make the first move.
With a faint rushing sound he gathered his mental strength as he pinpointed Belegroch's consciousness precisely, and he felt the mindforce take form like the latent strength of an ocean. He stared into the starry heavens where the black Dragon camouflaged himself, and struck out with his mind with great power.
Belegroch's alarm and surprise ran through him in a short torrent as the black Dragon struggled to throw off his attack. The Dragon's mental strength was great, but his will was much greater.
Inexorably, he shattered every single barrier that protected the Dragon and crushed them to nothingness. He could hear Belegroch's pained roars as he drove through the Dragon's last defences like a fire through a forest, and entered the Dragon's consciousness for a short moment. He raised his hand to the heavens even as he kept up his incapacitating mental assault on Belegroch and simultaneously wove wards over his companions to protect them from what would come.
"Garjzla"
Blinding light lit up the sky above Tarnag for a moment, so bright that it seemed as if the very sun had arrived upon the earth. The light consumed everything for a few seconds in its absolute brightness even as Eragon heard the sound of a huge mass descending down to the earth. The powerful light faded completely, leaving afterimages to the literally stunned observers.
With a regretful sigh, he broke Belegroch's mind barriers completely as the Dragon fell to the earth after his attack, its wings rendered immobile after Eragon took control through its mind.
The air rippled as the black Dragon fell with rapidly increasing momentum as Eragon relentlessly crushed the counter of his niece's bonded Dragon. He held its mind in his grasp, but he did not cause it any harm...only sending feelings of compassion and regret at at the situation.
Boundless regret overcame him as he felt the mind of Belegroch, the Dragon unable to fight back at the unbelievably vast mindforce that had it in its grasp. To call Eragon's mind vast would be akin to calling a mountain a pebble, so absolute was its fury.
He had no intention of violating the magnificent Dragon's consciousness, almost weeping as he felt the veins of suffering and anger run deeply through its mind. Suffering that reminded him of his own experiences.
He felt the Dragon's puzzlement at compassion, and tears formed in his eyes as he realized how similar they were. He hardened his heart as he spoke to Ismira through the bond, his voice raging through the minds of both Riders.
Belegroch will die if you do not come out, Ismira. I have his mind in my grasp and I have commanded his body not to fly. You will have to come out and slow his descent so he does not meet his death.
Laetri looked at him incredulously as Belegroch fell helplessly to the ground, within moments the Dragon would die in an extremely painful manner. She spoke shortly to Arya, but the quietness of the square and sharpness of his senses enabled him to guess the contents of their conversation.
Moments later, even Arya stared at him with disbelieving eyes. He could feel Saphira and the others entering Tarnag fast, and knew he would have to continue his cruelty only for a little longer. Still he felt nothing from Ismira…His heart clenched as Belegroch accepted death as the Dragon sped down, presumably reassuring his Rider. A lone tear made down his face as enormous guilt and regret tortured him again…he had failed his niece horribly.
Finally a flash of red sped through his sight in in the light of the Erisdar lanterns and he saw a tall, feminine form in a hooded cloak raise her hands towards the falling dragon. Eragon watched as Ismira raised both hands, and shouted in a clear voice that almost made him lose composure…it was like hearing a young Katrina scold him again.
"Letta, iet Belegroch!"
Appreciation made itself known to him through his crushing guilt as Ismira expertly halted the death fall of her Dragon, lowering him gently to the ground. Eragon gladly released his hold on the Dragon's mind even as he cursed mentally, hating the need to do such a thing. He still mourned for Shruikan's death and there were no words to say how much he abhorred attacking his own niece in this underhanded manner.
Ismira murmured a spell, almost like a song and Eragon saw Belegroch stand up tall at his Rider's ministrations. Laetri and Arya came up with Varda to flank him and they observed the huge black Dragon, admiring its majesty and power. But Eragon's attention was on his niece, who had finished her spell to heal her Dragon.
Belegroch stood half again as tall as Firnen and Sahloknir, taking up much of the square's space as he stared with unnervingly brilliant golden eyes at Eragon. Eragon saw with another stab of sadness that the Dragon was unused to anyone other than his Rider, and did not interfere as Ismira communicated with Belegroch for a few brief moments; Finally she turned to face Eragon fully, and his eyes widened considerably.
She wore a beautiful red cloak, woven with all the skill of an elven weaver. Her hair was copper-coloured just like her mother's and her face reminded Eragon painfully of Katrina's beautiful mien. It was almost like seeing Roran's wife come out of the grave, and the utter hatred and rage on the face twisted his heart with sadness.
It is good Roran remained in Farthen Dur. Seeing his daughter after so many years would have most likely killed him with grief, said Saphira as she, Sahloknir and Firnen landed smoothly upon the town square. Saphira dwarfed all of them, a Sapphire behemoth that loomed like a great Shadow and taking up much of the square. She was an elder Dragon, after all.
Eragon looked around as they were surrounded by their Dragons, Ismira facing them all with a look of cold hatred upon her face and with a gauntleted hand upon the black hilt of her sword. Belegroch growled at Saphira, baring his deadly fangs at her but Saphira only blinked back at the Dragon causing him to roar loud.
Varda cried out in fear and ran forward to grip Eragon's hand tightly. Eragon looked down to see how alarmed his young Rider was…her body did not betray her but her eyes showed her frantic emotions as she stared at the menacing form of Belegroch. Her hand shook very slightly as she looked fully into Ismira's eyes, and Eragon enveloped her mind with his. He felt Glaedr and Umaroth himself reach out to the young girl and to the white hatchling in her arms, lending them courage and peace.
Hatchlings, you are the apprentices of the greatest Rider our order has seen for many centuries now. You must not exhibit fear so openly, little ones. It hurts your master when he sees you hurt, said the Eldunari in their wise and resonating voices. Eragon smiled as Varda's face faltered for a single second, but the fear was banished from her eyes and Belgabad's an instant later.
Arya stepped forward from his left side and addressed Ismira despite the growls of the three colossal Dragons, only Saphira held her peace as she contented herself with observing Belegroch. Eragon could see no softness in her emerald eyes for Ismira, only a raging anger for the crimes his niece must have perpetrated.
"Did you kill Captain Damitha?" she asked in an ice-cold voice. Ismira's face became expressionless, possibly because they were conversing entirely in the ancient language. A moment later she smiled at Arya, a smile that seemed all the more threatening because of her emotionless eyes.
"I did. No dwarf is strong enough to kill such an elf…it had to be me, I am afraid. She was a worthy opponent, a powerful opponent. I only regret that I had to kill her unborn child with her…there is no honour in such a thing" she said, a flicker of unknown emotion passing through her face. Arya's eyes grew bright with anger, and Eragon knew just how volatile she could be.
Firnen roared in response to his Rider's all-consuming rage, arching his neck to bathe Ismira in a controlled column of terrible emerald flames. But Ismira's raised hand and whispered words split the fire into two before it reached her, causing it to pass harmlessly on either side to set afire two dwarven dwellings.
"How could you do such a thing?" whispered Laetri in revulsion, her beautiful pale face horrified as she stared at Ismira. Eragon only watched his niece with a composed face as she admitted…no, even boasted of her black deeds. For this alone the elves would hold her in eternal contempt and scorn.
"It was my duty" said Ismira solemnly. Eragon leaned forward slightly, observing her with shining Indigo eyes.
"How is it your duty?" he asked calmly.
"It is my duty to survive, Eragon. Surely you understand that fact, you who have slaughtered countless beings on the field of battle. That meddlesome elf would not be dead if she had not seen through my arrangement with Az Sweldn rak Anhuin, you know", she said intently.
"That does not make you any better than Galbatorix himself" whispered Arya, causing Belegroch to snarl at her. Ismira laughed for the first time, looking at Arya with amusement.
"We have differing goals, Arya. I am committed to mine just as you are committed to yours. You gave even love up for your duty" she said scornfully. "Whereas I gave up small issues such as morality and constraints. No life is as important to me as Belegroch's or my own, and if anyone threatens it, even indirectly…I will destroy them" she promised with glinting eyes.
"Those words have been uttered before" said Eragon as he let go of Varda's hand. Laetri laid her hand on the young Rider's shoulders, and Belgabad flew up and dropped heavily on Sahloknir's neck, causing the golden Dragon to wince slightly.
"Murtagh" nodded Ismira as she too moved in a circle, facing Eragon with purposeful eyes. Laetri and Arya stared at niece and Uncle solemnly as they retreated with Varda towards their Dragons to create space in the centre of the square. Eragon and Ismira both had their hands on their sword hilts as they moved, a tension in the air so thick it could be cut. The city of Tarnag was sinisterly quiet as the Riders faced each other at long last.
"Yes, Murtagh" said Eragon. "But all that those ideals brought to him was sadness and grief. You would do well to let them go" he said calmly, now viewing Ismira as only a potential opponent. Ismira frowned.
"You must not advise me so, Uncle" she said, and Eragon saw Varda's gasp at their relation as Laetri picked her up in her arms. Ismira too glanced at her once more, the unreadable look flickering across her face once more.
"You lost that right a long time ago, when you left me and Belegroch to be trained by Elves" she said coldly. "For all your wisdom and strength, for all your greatness and accomplishments…you could not keep safe the niece who adored you to the ends of the earth, even with you being absent!"
"Ismira…"
"You are no Lightbringer. You brought only darkness, pain and suffering into my life. And now you have attacked and nearly slain Belegroch, the friend of my soul and the one solace of my heart" Ismira said in a voice filled with cold rage.
"For that I will never forgive you" she promised him. Eragon nodded, he had expected her resentment. The parallels between her and Murtagh's situations were glaringly apparent. His heart went out to the girl he had blessed when she was a baby, the girl who he had promised to Roran would be a great figure. His own worthlessness disgusted him…no matter what he suffered, he should have been the one to collect Ismira.
Stop it, Eragon. You are the successor of Vrael, you are the master of the Riders... If you falter, then our order will wither! Came Saphira's resounding exclamation in his mind. Eragon shook his head, dispelling his melancholia. Saphira was right.
His and Ismira's hair flew as a cold wind rushed through them, emphasizing the hidden menace in the quiet of the dwarven city. There was no helping it, he had to defeat and try to unbind Ismira here and now.
Once more, he spoke the name of Names in his head and guided it to break Ismira's oaths if she had made any. The air rippled as he did so, but Ismira only drew her sword with no visible change in her demeanour. Eragon frowned…that should have freed her.
Ismira held her black blade to her side, it was darker than even Belegroch's scales. It was almost one with the night, so well-crafted that it was obviously a Rider's once upon a time. Only the two Riders moved, everyone observing with bated breath.
"This is my sword, Ancalagon. And Eragon, my oaths cannot be unbound for a simple reason. I am not bound by my true name…" said Ismira as she began walking towards Eragon purposefully, her sword spinning once in her hand. Eragon too began walking towards her quietly, realization dawning over his face.
"You gave your oaths willingly, without the ancient language" he said softly as the distance between them lessened. Ismira smiled sadly and broke into a run as she rushed towards Eragon with her black sword raised.
Several tears openly slid down Eragon's face at the implications as he did the same, rushing towards Ismira with his pristine white robes rippling in the wind. A clear steely chime split the air as Brisingr came out of its sheath for the first time in eighty-five years, shining almost sorrowfully in the hand of its legendary wielder.
….
"You gave your oaths willingly, without the ancient language" she heard Eragon say as he rushed towards Ismira with a hand upon his sword's hilt. Her heart broke as she saw Eragon's tears...seeing his tears caused her a dull agony she could not rid herself of.
She heard a sniffling sound next to her, and turned slightly to see Varda crying silently in Laetri's arms, trying to see the fight through her tears. Laetri looked at her sorrowfully, her own clear blue eyes swimming.
Arya could only watch with misery as even through his tears, Eragon swept out Brisingr with a clear sound. She might have been imagining it, but the night seemed to grow brighter as Brisingr was raised in his hand…she gasped slightly as she noted the details of the sword. Brisingr was no longer only of the colour of the scales of Saphira, but had gleaming white streaking through its blade randomly.
But the sword was visible only for an instant, the instant for which it was drawn. Brisingr met Ancalagon with a sound that hurt her ears and shook the ground slightly. Ismira blurred into movement, attacking so fast that even her elven perception had trouble keeping up with the fight.
She seemed to be everywhere, attacking from all sides at once. But Eragon was a picture of calmness as he wove Brisingr through the air, catching and parrying away each and every one of Ismira's thrusts and slashes. Arya could see the serenity on his face as he looked only straight ahead, sensing the patterns of the sword in ways she did not understand.
Each time their swords met sparks burst into the air, and their swords met such continual frequency that Arya thought for a moment she saw elven fireworks. Ismira was extremely athletic and flexible attacking in awkward angles and unpredictable ways, but Eragon simply dispatched her attacks with flicks of Brisingr so fast that it blurred even out of her sight.
With a shout, Ismira began a series of complex sword-patterns, succeeding in pushing Eragon back a step as she almost slipped through his defense. Eragon caught her unnaturally fast thrust on his sword-edge, and pushed it aside with a simple movement. Ismira backpedalled for a few yards as she held out her sword to the side once more.
"Ebrithil is really fast!" exclaimed Varda, her tears forgotten as she saw her master watch calmly as Ismira dashed towards him. Arya chuckled along with Laetri, agreeing completely. The four Dragons watched silently as Ismira jumped high into the air, twisting as she did so to deliver an extremely heavy blow that could probably split an armored Kull down the middle.
Eragon silently raised his sword and caught the blow on the edge of his blue-white blade. The noise of the impact fell painfully upon their ears as sparks fountained into the air at the clash, the combatants meeting each other's eyes as their swords struggled against each other. The sheer raw power and violence of the fight was breath-taking.
"I do not want to hurt you, Ismira. You must leave now and report that I am here" said Eragon quietly as he forced Ismira back in a contest of strength. Ismira glared back.
"You think killing him will free me?" she demanded, and whirled in a blurring circle to bring Ancalagon to his neck. Her eyes widened as Eragon blocked the sword with his own, not blinking as he countered the move. He was impossibly fast, and his reflexes were extraordinary.
"Then it seems I really must defeat you to spare you his wrath" he said, ignoring Ismira's disdain. "I will be gentle about it, you two have suffered enough" Eragon said as he flowed forward with a grace and power that would put even elves to shame.
The speed and grace with which he attacked seemed otherworldly…Arya watched with admiration as Eragon moved so fast and dexterously that he never seemed to touch the ground as he drove Ismira back several paces. He was like a mythical dancer of Alalea, flickering in and out of sight but with much more fury.
What has happened to you, Eragon? She thought as she saw Eragon's utter mastery of the sword. She had never seen such flexibility and technique in her entire life, she thought, as Eragon slipped around a thrust of Ancalagon effortlessly, and seemed to float up into the air as he raised his sword.
With a deafening clang he brought down Brisingr upon Ismira's still extended sword, tearing it violently out of her grasp. The sword went skittering away several yards and Ismira raised her hands towards Eragon's face and shouted a spell.
Arya cried out as dark red lightning blasted out at Eragon from Ismira's hands, lighting up the city. The Dragons roared in alarm and Belegroch stepped forward in defence of his Rider. Watch, said Laetri as Eragon caught the red lightning on Brisingr with stunning reflexes and placed one hand upon its blade to push the offending magic back.
"Thrysta!" he said calmly, and pushed the lightning away with a flourish of his sword. Ismira grunted as she dissipated the spell's backlash, but Eragon pointed his sword to the burning houses behind Belegroch.
The fires that still burned high rose into the air, abandoning the houses. Eragon's eyes glowed, and they split into arrows that flew towards Ismira like countless locusts. Ismira's eyes widened and she summoned her sword as she jumped high into the air seating herself on her Dragon perfectly as he took off. The flaming weapons pounded themselves against her wards, and Eragon could feel them weakening.
Leave them be, I will deal with them later said Eragon as his arrows of fire streamed out into the sky and lit up the black heavens with their brightness. He could see it was futile…the fire would not survive without magic at that height and he did not wish to kill her.
"Brisingr" he said and the remaining fire dissipated into the ground, causing him to blink as the landscape returned to darkness. He saw his apprentice jump off her perch in Laetri's arms as she ran towards him as fast as she could. He sheathed his sword with a sigh as he shook his head.
Such a powerful Rider she has become…a great pity I was not able to instruct her or that I was unable to keep her safe.
Eragon….said Saphira as the Dragons still held their silence, watching as Varda flung herself into his arms. Eragon hugged her tightly as he felt relief at her safety. He felt Saphira and Sahloknir lend him their support as utter sadness hit him from the tragic reunion with his niece.
Let us do right by Varda. We have failed Ismira and her poor Dragon, but let us do right by Varda, she said as the princesses of Ellesmera walked towards her Rider with expressions of relief. Eragon agreed slowly as he held Varda tightly.
Yes, Saphira. Let us do right by Varda.
…
Palencar was enjoying his morning tea quite happily, despite the multiple problems that had been brought down upon his head. Urgals, elves, dwarves…thank Gokukara he had those Riders as his allies. They had debated late into the night about siege plans and battle plans, so fervently that sometimes he had had to restrain himself from punching a stubborn general in the nose.
The grandly named 'Imperial College of War' had attracted several generals into its ranks, and had at some point dragooned him into recognizing it officially. Their tediousness was legendary…in fact when he had trouble sleeping, he called some of their members to expound to him the theories of war.
It made him sleep like a baby.
He sipped his tea, relaxing on his comfortable chair as he took in the view of the lovely landscape of Illirea from his balcony. The mobilization had begun and his city was stirring like an ant's nest.
Frantic knocking on his door interrupted his rather peaceful contemplation, and he got up with a sigh to open it. He sighed again as he saw a heavily breathing wide eyed page stare at him like he was Anurin reincarnated.
"Son, breathe easy" said Palencar, offering him some wine. He steadied the poor boy before he could faint and lead him to his chair. It was a testament to the boy's tiredness that he did not get up for several moments to greet him.
"Now are we relaxed and fine?" he asked patiently, and the page nodded frantically.
"Excellent. Tell me the news"
"Your Majesty, Nuada Shur'tugal respectfully requests your presence in the hall of the Riders. He is most insistent that you join him immediately and gave you this note" he said, handing him a note that opened at his touch.
"Thank you, Son. Now please leave" said Palencar peremptorily, watching as the boy ran out at the same pace. Shaking his head he read the note:
Greetings, Majesty.
Most important events have occurred yesterday, and Eragon-elda has called for a second council of the monarchs of Alagaesia. This time, Blodhgarm of Aiedail and Lords Dathedr and Fiolr will join us by scrying mirror.
We have arranged a three-way communication, and urgently await your august presence.
Regards,
Nuada of the House of Miolandra
Shur'tugal abr Domiel.
Palencar rolled up the scroll, and belted on Zar'roc as he strode out of his quarters. His guard formed up behind him noiselessly as he made towards Nuada and the others.
This had better be important.
…
Absolute silence reigned in the hall of the Riders as the situation was explained to them by a tense Queen Arya. Palencar turned to the large mirror on his right, the mirror that projected the Lords Fiolr and Dathedr.
"Fiolr-vor, I cannot convey the depth of my sorrow to you in words" he said sincerely, looking the ancient elf-lord in the eye. "You have the support of the Illirean throne in your vengeance, as does the elven Nation. The perpetrators have been found and executed, I hope?" he asked in a hard voice. The Riders all looked extremely angered at the news, Nuada literally crushing his goblet into some unknown shape.
Palencar raised an eyebrow as Fiolr turned to look at a mirror that showed him the Queen at Tarnag. Arya faced him tranquilly, only the slight tightening around her eyes betraying her tension.
"What says the Queen to King Palencar's query?"
From the third mirror to the right he saw Blodhgarm watching them all with a solemn expression from a lushly decorated room in Aiedail. As Arya made to answer, a door seemed to open at Tarnag and in walked the person they were all waiting for. Eragon Kingslayer walked in with Laetri Shur'tugal and Orik to occupy the remaining chairs at the table.
"It is to answer this question, Lord Fiolr, that I have called for this gathering crude though our communication is" said Eragon as he faced them all. Palencar was struck by the visible sadness on his face...something bad must have happened to cause that.
But Fiolr looked at the Lead Rider with scarce concealed impatience and anger.
"Shur'tugal, this is an elven affair. We do not need or require the assistance of the Riders, more specifically, you" he said shortly, and Dathedr looked disapproving at these words. Blodhgarm spoke to Fiolr with a reproving tone:
"Fiolr, it is not like you to lose your composure. Eragon-elda is there to help" he said in a persuasive voice, but Fiolr was so lost in the depths of revenge that he bypassed the ironclad customs of elven courtesy. Palencar, though he cursed the reason, was quite amused to see an elf lord of all things openly display emotions.
"I do not care what 'Eragon-elda' intends. Do not think, boy, that I have forgotten your effrontery in demanding Tamerlein from my house! Now you are here to delay what would be a speedy and fitting revenge upon those godforsaken dwarves!" he snarled, shaking off Dathedr's calming hand. Palencar shook his head, tensions were shooting high and derailing their purpose.
The Riders had gone rigid at this tirade, even Laetri looked at Fiolr with disappointment. Arya looked at him with open anger at his disrespect and seemed ready to abjure him. But Eragon raised his hand and said in a voice void of emotion.
"I am not here to delay anything, Fiolr" he said bluntly. Fiolr's fine elven feature bristled with rage at this disrespect, but Eragon continued as if not interrupted.
"If given my way, the Riders would have never returned to Alagaesia. But for several reasons we have done so, and in good time. After Vanir's investigations we have discovered the one who murdered your mate" he said, looking at Fiolr with regret compounded infinitely in his eyes. Palencar could see just how much this was affecting the Rider…he seemed prematurely aged.
"Who?" asked Fiolr shortly. Palencar saw Laetri grasp Eragon's hand, as if giving him strength. They waited impatiently as Eragon broke the silence after a few moments.
"Ismira, the missing Rider" he said, and Fiolr's rage became clearly visible on his face. Palencar had never seen an elf that angered…he could understand why they were called an elder race as he saw Fiolr's skin glow faintly as if he was giving off magic. Blodhgarm's eyes narrowed at this information, and Dathedr kept his composure but for a twitch of his eyelids.
Palencar disregarded the quiet of the Riders around him and looked directly at Eragon.
"Did you kill her, Kingslayer?" he asked quietly. Eragon looked so pained by this question that he staggered slightly, and Laetri squeezed his hand tightly once more. Arya did not speak, but her face showed her conflict about the situation.
But Orik looked disappointedly at Eragon as he replied. "He did not, having apparently made a promise to Roran Stronghammer to save her. Bah! Save her?" he spat at Eragon, and even Arya appeared shocked at this. Eragon looked at Orik with pain-filled eyes but still the dwarven King did not relent.
"She almost brought war upon mine people by her actions, Eragon! Countless of mine kin would have died at the hands of elves, perhaps exterminated completely. We named you our kin, and you decide to let go of the one who nearly caused our extinction!" he snarled, his temper flaring high.
At these words of the Dwarf king, everyone was silent. Eragon did not speak as he bowed his head slightly, his long silver hair hiding his expression. Blodhgarm turned to Orik with a terrifyingly cold expression.
"I would strike you down myself for that insult, dwarf!" he whispered coldly. "Aiedail has no wish to involve itself in the affairs of Alagaesia. If it were up to me, I would cut every bond the Riders have with that cursed land and begin anew!"
Before a distraught and angered Orik could reply, Fiolr spoke up to challenge Blodhgarm:
"Why do you castigate him, Blodhgarm-elda? The Dwarven King, though he is the King of a treacherous species, speaks the truth for a change" he said silkily, and Palencar did not see this going anywhere pleasant. He kept his silence, not wanting to anger anyone inadvertently. Curiously, even the Riders were silent at the abuse heaped upon their leader.
"Eragon Shadeslayer" questioned Fiolr. "Just answer me this: You wish to save your niece, a rogue Rider who killed my unborn son and second mate. I ask you, what makes her so special that she should escape the justice of the land?"
Palencar watched with trepidation as Eragon lifted his head to look directly into Fiolr's eyes through the scrying mirror.
"Nothing but this, Lord Fiolr: the fact that she was coerced to do these acts. By a Shade" he said softly, and Fiolr drew in a sharp breath. Eragon continued, looking directly at Fiolr. He spoke slowly and clearly in the old tongue as if he wanted to emphasize a point.
"By an elven Shade, in truth" he said and once more absolute silence took over the elf lords and Palencar. Palencar looked at Nuada and saw that none of the Riders were surprised. So they knew. Not that he would blame them immediately for keeping such things, he would not do so till he had a satisfactory reason.
Fiolr looked as if he wanted to cut down Eragon on the spot for suggesting such a thing, but was forced to accept it as truth as it was uttered in the ancient tongue.
"So, if anything, Fiolr, you have yourselves to blame. First, your incompetency as a race led to Ismira's capture. Secondly, a member of your race…a race incidentally that boasts its purity to such influences, turned himself into a Shade" he said firmly as he stared a stunned Fiolr down. By the look on Queen Arya's face, Palencar deduced that she was angered by the attack on the elven race.
"I move in a world of first causes and primal forces, Fiolr. If you wish to address the root of the problem…that is, slaying the elven Shade, then I am with you" he continued. Arya looked coldly at Eragon, and said:
"Do not include all elves in this affair, master Rider" she said frostily. Eragon's face lost all its emotion as he looked at her with an emotionless expression.
"Why should I not? If we go by Fiolr's logic" he said with a calculating expression, staring at Fiolr and continuing, "Then I should distance myself from all elves and forsake them completely" he said as he looked piercingly at Arya.
"What are you saying?" asked Fiolr rudely, which still surprised Palencar. Eragon Kingslayer continued ominously not taking any notice of Fiolr, his eyes completely upon the Queen. Laetri shook her head, whispering in Eragon's ear urgently. Eragon's face calmed down immediately and he turned back to Fiolr.
"The fact remains" he said softly, his face regaining its composure. "that the Elven Shade is at the heart of all this. Direct your anger at him, Lord Fiolr, not at a victim of his"
Fiolr seemed to regain his composure, but Dathedr turned to Arya and asked: "My Queen, what did Ismira say when you confronted her with her black deed?" he asked curiously. Eragon's face tightened imperceptibly at this, and Palencar could only watch as the Riders and Elves battled with words.
"She said…she said that Damitha-kona was impeding her goals, and that it was her duty to kill her" said Arya in a quiet voice. At this Fiolr turned to Eragon with a disgusted face, even Dathedr seemed disapproving.
"Eragon Shadeslayer, you seem to have neglected that piece of information" said Dathedr carefully. Palencar could see how seriously elves took semantics in speech, and decided to step in.
"It hardly matters anyway. Our efforts should be directed towards solving problems we can deal with immediately. These matters should be left to the Riders" said Palencar, but Fiolr did not listen as he looked at Eragon with something close to open hatred.
"You concealed such an important thing from us" said Fiolr coldly. "It implies your niece had a choice not to commit that deed, but she nevertheless chose to do it. Eragon Shadeslayer, her life is forefeit. I myself will put her to the sword, this I swear by Nauda and Damitha!" he promised balefully.
"Fiolr, cease this madness at once" exclaimed Nuada, only to be silenced by Fiolr with a gesture. Eragon stood tall at this oath, his eyes glowing unnaturally as he too proclaimed:
"The matter of renegade Riders fall under the purview of the Riders of Aiedail. Anyone who interferes in our affairs will be dealt with accordingly. Lord Fiolr, I can understand the despair of losing the one closest to you but this is madness. If you dare to kill Ismira Shur'tugal without my and the other rulers' consent" he whispered menacingly.
Arya subtly moved away from him, as did Laetri as the room in Tarnag actually began shaking from the force of his anger. Palencar had never heard of anyone able to manipulate magic at such a raw level, the spectacle frightened him more than anything else. The Riders watched with open mouths as the room in Tarnag began to shake even more violently as Eragon stared directly at Orik and then back at the elf-lord.
"If anyone" he repeated again in a quiet voice. "If anyone seeks to intercede unfairly in the matter of Riders once more…."
"…I will end them" he said, his voice delivering no threats but a promise.
Fear reared in Palencar as he witnessed the goblets on the table burst into shards…reality seemed to warp slightly around Eragon and he saw concern on Fiolr's face as he watched the terrifying display. He knew that after this it would take enormous effort to bring the Three race concordat back to strength, for Eragon Kingslayer had been pushed too far by them all.
"We must continue this later after we have all had a chance to clear our minds" said Laetri quietly, and Eragon nodded shortly as he cut off the scrying spell to all three locations with a whispered word. Blodhgarm looked gravely at Fiolr and then at Palencar.
"If you think about it slowly, you will realize that he speaks the truth" he said softly as he too severed the connections with a bow of his head. Fiolr shortly inclined his head to Palencar with a dazed expression and left, and Dathedr bowed more formally.
"We must reconvene, all of us, in person. These disagreements are dangerous and must be smoothed over immediately. King Palencar, I request you to hold a meeting of the monarchs at Illirea formally, at the earliest." he said crisply, as he too severed the connection with the traditional elven greeting.
Silence reigned in the hall of the Riders as the Shur'tugal and Palencar looked at each other and simply bowed their heads. Palencar banged his fist hard upon the exquisite teak table, causing the Riders to frown at him.
"Blast those Urgals" he said fervently. "And Blast those crazy elves" he cursed them as he flung a goblet at the wall, shattering it. Nuada stood up, his face a study in self-control.
"We must retire and consider these things separately, Majesty. Perhaps things will be clearer then" he said, as the Riders all rose to leave. Palencar too rose, murmuring:
"Perhaps it will, Nuada, perhaps it will"