Red, Black and Blue

The sky dimmed from a grey-black swath to a true black. Neither starlight nor moonlight penetrated the smoke. Ivren missed the stars, even if they were not his. With many a man and woman he drank by the fire and shared a story or two, always somewhat adjusted, half-truths. Shortly before dawn, he disappeared to make final preparations.

Ivren retreated safely behind tent planes before bringing out the Eldunari. Despite the size and weight of the black stone, he had no choice but to take it into battle with him. Leaving the Eldunari behind would be pointless. But how could he carry it with him without being disturbed himself? No ordinary man could break an Eldunari. One problem less. Ivren considered. He could carry it on his back, hidden in his pocket and under his cloak. Yes. That's what he would do.

Ivren covered himself and his equipment with protective spells. His sword, while better than most, would not necessarily stand up to a rider's blade. He had never tested it. Why should he? To be safe, he first wrote down a spell, cast it over the sword and also a dagger. He burned the note. Now the spell would only work on his command. Otherwise it would be far too great a waste of energy. His weapons were of good make, he valued that. Killing people was far easier than killing Ra'zac.

During the night, the fetid vapours had gathered above the ground and formed a milky yellowish shimmering veil of mist. It hid the Varden from the eyes of their enemies. They streamed out into No Man's Land as quietly as possible. Armies of warriors marched past them. Their armour and weapons were wrapped in cloth rags so that they would not make any noise that would have betrayed their advance.

Only when they were three quarters of the way across did the horns of the guards sound. Hooves thundered across the steppe as the cavalry rode off, accompanied by the Kull. The two armies clashed with a mighty roar. Spikes clashed against barricades, hammers against shields, swords against helmets. Saphira and Eragon remained behind the front line, with them their guard and Ivren. His mind swept rapidly over the soldiers. Within seconds he found a mage. The Varden cheered loudly as a whole battalion of enemies crumbled before them. Eragon had eliminated the first enemy mage.

Ivren focused on his enemy. His sword slashed a soldier from head to toe, the next moment the mage squirmed under his onslaught and he let his mind dart like a spear through a paper-thin weak spot. Greedily he took all the knowledge he could, shoved it to the back of his mind for later and shared what was most important with Eragon.

Along the way, he felt Eragon give the soldiers a painless death. Ivren really had to ask him about the spell later. He himself did not show such mercy. Ivren made himself master of the mage's body and mind, forced him to kill his own men and drank his life force.

A loud crash, splinters of wood following towards him, then fire! Cursing, he threw himself to the side. Some splinters fell to the ground just in front of him, stopped by his protection spell. Ivren felt the energy he had gained dwindle. Flames licked at his cloak but found no hold. He stole the energy from them and they went out.

He quickly saw the problem. The catapults were aimed at Eragon and Saphira. Even though they could do little damage to the two, it weakened their protective spells and the Varden were not immune to fire like a dragon. It only took a few seconds of contact with Eragon to come up with a plan. Well, if you could call it a plan. While Eragon attacked the soldiers at the catapults with his mind, Ivren let the flames go out. He stood very still, focused solely on the flickering energy. It took the utmost concentration to grasp only the fire and not the protected men.

Ivren felt one of their mages succumb to the enemy. It would set off a chain reaction - if Ivren didn't cast his own spell over them as quick as an arrow. He gasped and had to pause. Eous' strength joined his own, an endless ocean to his own reserves. A Kull slew those two soldiers who had tried to exploit Ivren's weakness.

He was unused to protecting so many people, but Ivren had no time to think about it. The battle continued to rage around him. Saphira and Eragon were now charging towards the front. Ivren cursed, transferred the protection spells entirely to the Eldunari, hoping they would not drain him too much, and rushed into the fight after them.

Whenever Eragon and Saphira fell upon a troop, he was there, a shadow at Eragon's side, a bloody shadow. Saphira was as beautiful as she was deadly, glistening scales and blood-soaked claws. Three times they killed every soldier in the front ranks, three times they retreated. They were all exhausted. At last the Varden mages took over the protection again.

The corpses began to pile up so slowly and yet there were no fewer soldiers. Should he ask Nainar for help? Galbatorix had not shown up yet and Ivren doubted that he would appear at all. So far he had not needed to. Ivren might know little about wars and strategy, but even he recognised that the Varden were losing. A second dragon would turn the tide.

It would be the perfect time. The sun was low in the sky, barely visible among the billows of smoke. Nainar would be invisible in this darkness. He would not land at all, instead diving down and drenching the back ranks of the Empire in flames.

Just as he was about to ask Eragon to watch his body while he searched for Nainar, a trumpet sounded. "The dwarves are coming! The dwarves are coming!"

Ivren exhaled in relief. Eragon drew up into the air on top of Saphira. "Rejoice men! King Hrothgar has come! And it looks like he's brought all the dwarven people with him! We will defeat the Empire!" After the men's cheers died down, he added, "Now take your swords and show these lousy cowards what the hour has brought!"

Hundreds surrendered or defected, threw down their weapons and fled. A burning lance flew over them and bored into one of the tents on the Empire side. Ivren slew a charging soldier and turned to look for Eragon. In the crush of battle, he'd lost sight of him.

Soon a horn sounded, then another and another. Drumbeats. They all paused. What was going on? Immediately he thought of Galbatorix. A signal? On the northern horizon a dark dot rose into the red sky. The birds dodged the shadow. It was too small to be Shruikan, so perhaps a Lethrblaka?

Then a ray of sunlight penetrated the dense cloud cover in the west and fell on the creature. Above them hovered a dragon, glowing red in the sun. Its wing-skin was a darker red and its claws, teeth and backprongs were snow white. On its back was a saddle, inside it a man in armour of polished steel, gleaming in the light.

Another dragon rider. Five there were now, five true dragonriders. Ivren did not count Galbatorix, he was no more a dragonrider than he was. The steelen man raised his left hand and a crackling red beam of energy shot from his palm. Ivren could not see who it hit, but he heard the screams and Saphira's roar.

"Eragon, wait!" He paused, his face contorted with hatred. Even his mind felt different. "Take me with you!"

Ivren ran to him, fast as an elf. Once again he had to replenish his energy with the Eldunari. Such tricks always cost him a lot of energy. Ivren climbed into the saddle behind Eragon, grabbed the Eldunari again and gave Eragon more power. Then Saphira took to the sky and flew towards the red dragon.

Ivren stretched his mind far into the area where the clouds were still thick and dark. There flew Nainar, safely hidden. Ivren frowned. He sensed the greedy birds, spooked by the dragons. But where was Nainar?

His search stopped as the two dragons began to wrestle with each other. With claws and teeth they attacked each other, snapping at each other's necks, yet it seemed, even. Their claws scraped over scales and armour, screeching. Ivren clung tightly as they sank to the depths. Damn! He couldn't call for Nainar like this - But the dragon might reach him after all. Where was he waiting? And why?

Just before they reached the bottom, they let go of each other. Saphira hissed angrily and emitted a huge flame. Three metres in front of the red dragon, the fire forked and shot past its flanks, untouched. Even as the red dragon tore open its mouth to return the blast of fire, Eragon cast his spell. In the meantime, Ivren healed some of Saphira's minor wounds. They might not do any damage on their own, but over time they would accumulate and weaken Saphira.

The two dragons raced up into the sky. Again and again, they slashed at each other and snapped at each other with bared teeth. Suddenly Saphira and Eragon cried out together in pain as the red one bit them on the tail. Ivren cursed. He couldn't attack like that! Gasping, Saphira did a tight backflip - Nainar would not have been able to do that - and got behind the other dragon. This one now tried to get over her. In a fight with a wild dragon, everything would be so much easier. No annoying protection spells .

Ugh! The enemy rider attacked his mind. Ivren shut himself off from the world altogether and called out to Eragon - but he was completely absent. Probably something with his mages? But there was no time. A glance down showed him how the red dragon was rushing towards them. Quick as a flash, Ivren grabbed a dagger and threw it. Jierda!

The dragon tried to turn away, but the dagger followed Ivren's will and entered his side. He roared in pain. The attack stopped. "Well done!" shouted Eragon to him over the roar of the wind.

Again the dragons danced. They chased around each other until their tongues hung out of their mouths, their tails went limp and they stopped flapping their wings and just sailed through the air. Ivren could transfer more energy to Saphira, but it wouldn't help her muscles. Spells were useless if he didn't want to burn all his strength in protection spells. Eragon made the decision for him, "Land Saphira! We'll fight this guy on the ground!"

With an exhausted sigh, Saphira lowered herself to the nearest open terrain, a small rocky plateau west of the Jiet Stream. The water was red with the blood of battle pouring into it. They jumped off as soon as Saphira landed. Eragon stepped onto the ground, testing. Ivren drew his sword and waited.

A few seconds later, the red dragon flew over them and landed at the other end of the plataeu. It hissed but stayed away. Its rider loosened the leg straps and slid off his dragon. The rider pulled the dagger from his side and healed his partner. Eragon whispered at his side, "How did he do that?"

Ivren didn't answer, but wondred as well. Such an extortion of energy, he himself did something similiar with Eous' Eldunari. Ah, this was the answer. Of course! Why should Galbatorix not know of the Eldunari? It explained the strong mind as well. But who was this stranger? One of Galbatorix' loyal men, surely, chosen by him personally for that egg. Or, at leats he imagined it like that. Maybe not so loyal. Since how many years did Galbatorix have the eggs now? In the beginning he may have taken great care in choosing who got to touch the egg, but after so many years without success, and with Saphira and Eragon, he might as well have loosend his rules. Or? It wasn't like he Galbatorix well. Luckily.

Eragon took the first step, Ivren followed. While they met in the middle of the plateau, Saphira and the red dragon circled each other in the background. The rider gripped his sword but did not attack yet. Ivren shared a quick glance with Eragon, then they struck. The rider dodged Ivren's blade and parried the other. But he barely had time to react. Together they attacked again and again, taking full advantage of their superior numbers. With each step they drove him to the edge of the plateau. Hopefully they could capture him and not kill him.

Suddenly the rider struck Eragon violently. He stumbled, but caught himself again - but the rider had already escaped from them and was driving Eragon back. Ivren threw himself onto the rider's back. Out of the corner of his eye he saw red scales and just managed to duck under the dragon's tail. Saphira leapt after her opponent.

Eragon and the red rider were back in the centre. Their blades threw sparks whenever they met. They twisted around each other like a twisted dance. Again and again Ivren tried to catch the rider when he was distracted with Eragon, but he always repelled her attacks. He was simply too fast. Had he gained an advantage with the Eldunari?

Ivren let up. It was no use! Where was Nainar? With him, they could capture those two. No matter. Focus! If swords were useless, he would try magic. "Thrífa." he whispered. Ivren staggered under the loss of energy. It slipped away from him as if it were nothing but water. Nevertheless he held on.

Eragon gasped for breath. His knee gave way and he fell into the mud. Immediately Ivren stopped the spell and pulled the rider into another fight. His technique was good, more perfect than good. Ivren dodged the next blow and tried to get a look at Eragon. By now he was on his feet again. His eyes were wide, shocked, he stared at the rider. "I know you!"

Again Ivren drove the rider back. All at once Eragon lunged at the rider, locking the broadsword between their bodies and ripping off his helmet. What the -

"Thrysta Vindr!" Eragon was flung back. Ivren ran to his side. The rider lowered his sword, pointed at Eragon and spoke, "You would never give up, would you?" Then his gaze turned to Ivren. "Thief." he rumbled. "Galbatorix will have you. You will enjoy his hospitality . . A cell just for you."

"How nice." replied Ivren. "I'm looking forward to it."

By now Eragon had picked himself up. "Murtagh . You're alive? I saw the Urgals dragging you into the tunnel, didn't I? I tried to find you with the dream sight, but saw only darkness."

So Murtagh was his name. He let out a hoarse, sad laugh. "I did not see either when I searched for you with dream sight during my stay in Uru'baen."

"But you died!" cried Eragon, completely confused. "You died in the underground passages of Farthen Dur! Arya found your bloody clothes in the tunnel!"

A shadow darkened Murtagh's features. "No, I did not die. It was the work of the twins, Eragon. They subdued a group of Urgals and arranged the ambush to kill Ajihad and capture me. Then they put a spell on me so I couldn't escape and dragged me off to Uru'baen."

Eragon shook his head. "But why did you side with Galbatorix? You told me you hated him. You said -"

Ivren rather doubted it that Murtagh had enough power to stop Galbatorix from breaking through his mind and wresting his true name from him. Could they? Unlikely. How old was Galbatorix again? Slightly older than him, plus proper rider training, possibly support from more mages and eldunari - It looked bad.

"Pah!" laughed Murtagh, "I didn't take his side! First Galbatorix punished me for not thanking him for taking me into his care as a child, and for defying his will and running away. Then he elicited from me everything I knew about you, Saphira and the Varden."

"You betrayed us? I mourned for you and you betrayed us?"

One could not choose for whom one mourned. Some bonds lasted even through betrayal, intentional or not. Even if you were supposed to hate someone, you couldn't. Ivren held back a sigh. It didn't mean it was like that here. Eragon wasn't him and that was fine.

"I had no other choice! And after Dorn hatched with me, Galbatorix forced us both to swear allegiance to him in the ancient language. We must obey him, whether we like it or not."

"You have become like your father."

"No, not like my father. I am stronger than Morzan ever was. Galbatorix has taught me things that you dare not even dream of . . Spells so strong that the elves dare not speak them, coward that they are! Words in the ancient language, forgotten until Galbatorix rediscovered them. Words to manipulate energy . . . Secrets, terrible secrets, to destroy the enemy and make one's every wish come true."

"Things that should remain secrets."

But were they really secrets? Not even Aurora knew all the knowledge of the Order, and she had been a Rider far longer than Galbatorix.

"If they were known to you, you wouldn't talk like that. Brom was a weakling, nothing more. And the elves? Pah! They're just hiding in their forest, waiting to be destroyed. You look like an elf. Did Islanzadi do this to you? - Never mind, I'll know the truth soon anyway." He paused and looked towards the east, frowning.

Ivren saw two figures, no, two men, standing there at the head of Galbatorix's troops. They were bombarding the Varden and Dwarves with blasts of energy. One man sneaked towards them. "Wait! I want to see what he's up to."

"Why?"

A bitter smile flitted across Murtagh's face. "The twins tortured me bestialical when I was their prisoner."

Ah, Retribution, his old familiar friend. They watched together as the man hid behind a pile of corpses. For a moment it looked as if they saw him, but then they turned away again. The man jumped up. His hammer whizzed down and smashed one of them in the skull. The other stumbled over his companion, doubled over and uttered a wordless cry as he too collapsed under the hammer.

"And what now? Are you going to kill me?"

"Of course not. Galbatorix wants you alive."

"What for?"

Murtagh pursed his lips. "You don't know that? Ha! That's a good one! It's not about you, it's about her" He pointed at Saphira. "The dragon in the egg you stole is male. Saphira is the last female dragon in the world. She will be the primordial mother of a new generation. Do you understand now? Galbatorix doesn't want to use the dragons. He wants to use Saphira to resurrect the Dragon Riders. He can't kill either of you if he wants his vision to come true . . And what a vision it is, Eragon! You should hear him talk about it on the web, then you wouldn't think so badly of him. Is it so bad that he wants to unite Alagaesia under a single banner, that he wants to eradicate the cause of wars and bring new glory to the Dragon Riders?"

"He was the one who killed them all in the first place!" Ivren had to agree wholeheartedly with Eragon. Whatever great vision Galbatorix had, it was too late.

"For good reason. They were old and fat and unreliable. The elves had mastered them and used them to subjugate the humans. They had to be removed so we could start all over again."

Ivren felt insulted on Aurora's and Oromis' behalf. Eragon began marching back and forth, upset. Meanwhile he kept talking, trying to reach Murtagh to get him on their side, but it was useless. Murtagh and Dorn were bound by his true name until perhaps one day they might escape. A distant day. He let Eragon have his way, even if he found his offer to kill them both - well, incomprehensible.

"Letta!" shouted Murtagh. Ivren hit the ground as invisible shackles wrapped around his arms and legs, immobilising him. He could still hear Saphira hissing and the roar of a fireball, but then she too was caught.

"Brakka du vanyali sem huildar Saphira un eka!" spoke Eragon. Ivren couldn't see if it did any good, but if Murtagh really was using Eldunari, he didn't stand a chance.

Ivren concentrated entirely on the earth beneath him, imagining it splintering, giving way and becoming chains of stone. Eous' Eldunari gave him strength. Deloi moi!

Dorn roared. The magic gave way for a moment. He heard a gasp, then Eragon said, "Let us go. We were friends once. We fought together. Murtagh . ."

A minute passed. Just as Ivren began to cast the next spell, Murtagh replied, "I was to try to capture you, that was my order. Well, I tried. See that we never cross paths again! The next time we meet, your thief will end up in chains and you will not get away scot-free again!"

"But before I let you go . ." Ivren still couldn't move. Whatever Murtagh was doing, he couldn't see it. He only heard footsteps until Eragon called out, "You lie!"

He would love to know what was being whispered to him. Only too gladly . .

Footsteps became wingbeats and then they were free. The battle was over.