Christopher Paolini - [Inheritance 01] - Eragon.html

by Eragon (lit)

  While they rode, Eragon tried to remember what he knew about elves. They had long lives—that fact was oft repeated—although he knew not how long. They spoke the ancient language, and many could use magic. After the Riders’ fall, elves had retreated into seclusion. None of them had been seen in the Empire since. So why is one here now? And how did the Empire manage to capture her? If she can use magic, she’s probably drugged as I was.

  They traveled through the night, not stopping even when their flagging strength began to slow them. They continued onward despite burning eyes and clumsy movements. Behind them, lines of torch-bearing horsemen searched around Gil’ead for their trail.

  After many bleary hours, dawn lightened the sky. By unspoken consent Eragon and Murtagh stopped the horses. have to make camp,said Eragon wearily. must sleep—whether they catch us or not.

  said Murtagh, rubbing his eyes. Saphira land. We’ll meet her.

  They followed Saphira’s directions and found her drinking from a stream at the base of a small cliff, the elf still slouched on her back. Saphira greeted them with a soft bugle as Eragon dismounted.

  Murtagh helped him remove the elf from Saphira’s saddle and lower her to the ground. Then they sagged against the rock face, exhausted. Saphira examined the elf curiously. I wonder why she hasn’t woken. It’s been hours since we left Gil’ead.

  Who knows what they did to her? said Eragon grimly.

  Murtagh followed their gaze. far as I know, she’s the first elf the king has captured. Ever since they went into hiding, he’s been looking for them without success—until now. So he’s either found their sanctuary, or she was captured by chance. I think it was chance. If he had found the elf haven, he would have declared war and sent his army after the elves. Since that hasn’t happened, the question is, Were Galbatorix’s men able to extract the elves’ location before we rescued her?

  won’t know until she regains consciousness. Tell me what happened after I was captured. How did I end up in Gil’ead?

  Urgals are working for the Empire,said Murtagh shortly, pushing back his hair. it seems, the Shade as well. Saphira and I saw the Urgals give you to him—though I didn’t know who it was at the time—and a group of soldiers. They were the ones who took you to Gil’ead.

  It’s true, said Saphira, curling up next to them.

  Eragon’s mind flashed back to the Urgals he had spoken with at Teirm and the they had mentioned. They meant the king! I insulted the most powerful man in Alaga he realized with dread. Then he remembered the horror of the slaughtered villagers in Yazuac. A sick, angry feeling welled in his stomach. The Urgals were under Galbatorix’s orders! Why would he commit such an atrocity on his own subjects?

  Because he is evil, stated Saphira flatly.

  Glowering, Eragon exclaimed, will mean war! Once the people of the Empire learn of it, they will rebel and support the Varden.

  Murtagh rested his chin in his hand. if they heard of this outrage, few would make it to the Varden. With the Urgals under his command, the king has enough warriors to close the Empire’s borders and remain in control, no matter how disruptive people are. With such a rule of terror, he will be able to shape the Empire however he wants. And though he is hated, people could be galvanized into joining him if they had a common enemy.

  would that be?asked Eragon, confused.

  elves and the Varden. With the right rumors they can be portrayed as the most despicable monsters in Alaga—fiends who are waiting to seize your land and wealth. The Empire could even say that the Urgals have been misunderstood all this time and that they are really friends and allies against such terrible enemies. I only wonder what the king promised them in return for their services.

  wouldn’t work,said Eragon, shaking his head. one could be deceived that easily about Galbatorix and the Urgals. Besides, why would he want to do that? He’s already in power.

  his authority is challenged by the Varden, with whom people sympathize. There’s also Surda, which has defied him since it seceded from the Empire. Galbatorix is strong within the Empire, but his arm is weak outside of it. As for people seeing through his deceptions, they’ll believe whatever he wants them to. It’s happened before.Murtagh fell silent and gazed moodily into the distance.

  His words troubled Eragon. Saphira touched him with her mind: Where is Galbatorix sending the Urgals?

  What?

  In both Carvahall and Teirm, you heard that Urgals were leaving the area and migrating southeast, as if to brave the Hadarac Desert. If the king truly does control them, why is he sending them in that direction? Maybe an Urgal army is being gathered for his private use or an Urgal city is being formed.

  Eragon shuddered at the thought. I’m too tired to figure it out. Whatever Galbatorix’s plans, they’ll only cause us trouble. I just wish that we knew where the Varden are. That’s where we should be going, but we’re lost without Dormnad. It doesn’t matter what we do; the Empire will find us.

  Don’t give up, she said encouragingly, then added dryly, though you’re probably right.

  Thanks. He looked at Murtagh. You risked your life to rescue me; I owe you for that. I couldn’t have escaped on my own.It was more than that, though. There was a bond between them now, welded in the brotherhood of battle and tempered by the loyalty Murtagh had shown.

  ’m just glad I could help. ItMurtagh faltered and rubbed his face. main worry now is how we’re going to travel with so many men searching for us. Gil’ead’s soldiers will be hunting us tomorrow; once they find the horses’ tracks, they’ll know you didn’t fly away with Saphira.

  Eragon glumly agreed. did you manage to get into the castle?

  Murtagh laughed softly. paying a steep bribe and crawling through a filthy scullery chute. But the plan wouldn’t have worked without Saphira. She,he stopped and directed his words at her, is, you, are the only reason we escaped alive.

  Eragon solemnly put a hand on her scaly neck. As she hummed contentedly, he gazed at the elf’s face, captivated. Reluctantly, he dragged himself upright. should make a bed for her.

  Murtagh got to his feet and stretched out a blanket for the elf. When they lifted her onto it, the cuff of her sleeve tore on a branch. Eragon began to pinch the fabric together, then gasped.

  The elf’s arm was mottled with a layer of bruises and cuts; some were half healed, while others were fresh and oozing. Eragon shook his head with anger and pulled the sleeve up higher. The injuries continued to her shoulder. With trembling fingers, he unlaced the back of her shirt, dreading what might be under it.

  As the leather slipped off, Murtagh cursed. The elf’s back was strong and muscled, but it was covered with scabs that made her skin look like dry, cracked mud. She had been whipped mercilessly and branded with hot irons in the shape of claws. Where her skin was still intact, it was purple and black from numerous beatings. On her left shoulder was a tattoo inscribed with indigo ink. It was the same symbol that had been on the sapphire of Brom’s ring. Eragon silently swore an oath that he would kill whoever was responsible for torturing the elf.

  you heal this?asked Murtagh.

  —I don’t know,said Eragon. He swallowed back sudden queasiness. ’s so much.

  Eragon! said Saphira sharply. This is an elf. She cannot be allowed to die. Tired or not, hungry or not, you must save her. I will meld my strength with yours, but you are the one who must wield the magic.

  Yesyou are right, he murmured, unable to tear his eyes from the elf. Determined, he pulled off his gloves and said to Murtagh, is going to take some time. Can you get me food? Also, boil rags for bandages; I can’t heal all her wounds.

  can’t make a fire without being seen,objected Murtagh. ’ll have to use unwashed cloths, and the food will be cold.Eragon grimaced but acquiesced. As he gently laid a hand on the elf’s spine, Saphira settled next to him, her glittering eyes fixed on the elf. He took a deep breath, then reached for the magic and started working.

  He spoke the ancient words, heill!A burn shimmered under his pal
m, and new, unmarked skin flowed over it, joining together without a scar. He passed over bruises or other wounds that were not life-threatening—healing them all would consume the energy he needed for more serious injuries. As Eragon toiled, he marveled that the elf was still alive. She had been repeatedly tortured to the edge of death with a precision that chilled him.

  Although he tried to preserve the elf’s modesty, he could not help but notice that underneath the disfiguring marks, her body was exceptionally beautiful. He was exhausted and did not dwell upon it—though his ears turned red at times, and he fervently hoped that Saphira did not know what he was thinking.

  He labored through dawn, pausing only at brief intervals to eat and drink, trying to replenish himself from his fast, the escape, and now healing the elf. Saphira remained by his side, lending her strength where she could. The sun was well into the sky when he finally stood, groaning as his cramped muscles stretched. His hands were gray and his eyes felt dry and gritty. He stumbled to the saddlebags and took a long drink from the wineskin. it done?asked Murtagh.

  Eragon nodded, trembling. He did not trust himself to speak. The camp spun before him; he nearly fainted. You did well, said Saphira soothingly.

  she live?

  don’t—don’t know,he said in a ravaged voice. are strong, but even they cannot endure abuse like this with impunity. If I knew more about healing, I might be able to revive her, butHe gestured helplessly. His hand was shaking so badly he spilled some of the wine. Another swig helped to steady him. ’d better start riding again.

  You must sleep,protested Murtagh.

  can sleep in the saddle. But we can’t afford to stay here, not with the soldiers closing on us.

  Murtagh reluctantly gave in. that case I’ll lead Snowfire while you rest. They resaddled the horses, strapped the elf onto Saphira, and departed the camp. Eragon ate while he rode, trying to replace his depleted energy before he leaned forward against Snowfire and closed his eyes.

  * * *

  WATER FROM SAND

  When they stopped for the evening, Eragon felt no better and his temper had worsened. Most of the day had been spent on long detours to avoid detection by soldiers with hunting dogs. He dismounted Snowfire and asked Saphira, How is she? I think no worse than before. She stirred slightly a few times, but that was all. Saphira crouched low to the ground to let him lift the elf out of the saddle. For a moment her soft form pressed against Eragon. Then he hurriedly put her down.

  He and Murtagh made a small dinner. It was difficult for them to fight off the urge to sleep. When they had eaten, Murtagh said, can’t keep up this pace; we aren’t gaining any ground on the soldiers. Another day or two of this and they’ll be sure to overtake us.

  else can we do?snapped Eragon. it were just the two of us and you were willing to leave Tornac behind, Saphira could fly us out of here. But with the elf, too? Impossible.

  Murtagh looked at him carefully. you want to go your own way, I won’t stop you. I can’t expect you and Saphira to stay and risk imprisonment.

  ’t insult me,Eragon muttered. only reason I’m free is because of you. I’m not going to abandon you to the Empire. Poor thanks that would be!

  Murtagh bowed his head. words hearten me.He paused. they don’t solve our problem.

  can?Eragon asked. He gestured at the elf. wish she could tell us where the elves are; perhaps we could seek sanctuary with them.

  how they’ve protected themselves, I doubt she’d reveal their location. Even if she did, the others of her kind might not welcome us. Why would they want to shelter us anyway? The last Riders they had contact with were Galbatorix and the Forsworn. I doubt that left them with pleasant memories. And I don’t even have the dubious honor of being a Rider like you. No, they would not want me at all.

  They would accept us, said Saphira confidently as she shifted her wings to a more comfortable position.

  Eragon shrugged. if they would protect us, we can’t find them, and it’s impossible to ask the elf until she regains consciousness. We must flee, but in which direction—north, south, east, or west?

  Murtagh laced his fingers together and pressed his thumbs against his temples. think the only thing we can do is leave the Empire. The few safe places within it are far from here. They would be difficult to reach without being caught or followedThere’s nothing for us to the north except the forest Du Weldenvarden—which we might be able to hide in, but I don’t relish going back past Gil’ead. Only the Empire and the sea lie westward. To the south is Surda, where you might be able to find someone to direct you to the Varden. As for going eastHe shrugged. the east, the Hadarac Desert stands between us and whatever lands exist in that direction. The Varden are somewhere across it, but without directions it might take us years to find them.

  We would be safe, though, remarked Saphira. As long as we didn’t encounter any Urgals.

  Eragon knitted his brow. A headache threatened to drown his thoughts in hot throbs. ’s too dangerous to go to Surda. We would have to traverse most of the Empire, avoiding every town and village. There are too many people between us and Surda to get there unnoticed.

  Murtagh raised an eyebrow. you want to go across the desert?

  don’t see any other options. Besides, that way we can leave the Empire before the Ra’zac get here. With their flying steeds, they’ll probably arrive in Gil’ead in a couple of days, so we don’t have much time.

  if we do reach the desert before they get here,said Murtagh, could still overtake us. It’ll be hard to outdistance them at all.

  Eragon rubbed Saphira’s side, her scales rough under his fingers. ’s assuming they can follow our trail. To catch us, though, they’ll have to leave the soldiers behind, which is to our advantage. If it comes to a fight, I think the three of us can defeat themas long as we aren’t ambushed the way Brom and I were.

  we reach the other side of the Hadarac safely,said Murtagh slowly, will we go? Those lands are well outside of the Empire. There will be few cities, if any. And then there is the desert itself. What do you know of it?

  that it’s hot, dry, and full of sand,confessed Eragon.

  about sums it up,replied Murtagh. ’s filled with poisonous and inedible plants, venomous snakes, scorpions, and a blistering sun. You saw the great plain on our way to Gil’ead?

  It was a rhetorical question, but Eragon answered anyway, and once before.

  you are familiar with its immense range. It fills the heart of the Empire. Now imagine something two or three times its size, and you’ll understand the vastness of the Hadarac Desert. That is what you’re proposing to cross.

  Eragon tried to envision a piece of land that gigantic but was unable to grasp the distances involved. He retrieved the map of Alagasia from his saddlebags. The parchment smelled musty as he unrolled it on the ground. He inspected the plains and shook his head in amazement. No wonder the Empire ends at the desert. Everything on the other side is too far away for Galbatorix to control.

  Murtagh swept his hand over the right side of the parchment. the land beyond the desert, which is blank on this map, was under one rule when the Riders lived. If the king were to raise up new Riders under his command, it would allow him to expand the Empire to an unprecedented size. But that wasn’t the point I was trying to make. The Hadarac Desert is so huge and contains so many dangers, the chances are slim that we can cross it unscathed. It is a desperate path to take.

  are desperate,said Eragon firmly. He studied the map carefully. If we rode through the belly of the desert, it would take well over a month, perhaps even two, to cross it. But if we angle southeast, toward the Beor Mountains, we could cut through much faster. Then we can either follow the Beor Mountains farther east into the wilderness or go west to Surda. If this map is accurate, the distance between here and the Beors is roughly equal to what we covered on our way to Gil’ead.

  that took us nearly a month!

  Eragon shook his head impatiently. ride to Gil’ead was slow on account of my injuries. If we pr
ess ourselves, it’ll take only a fraction of that time to reach the Beor Mountains.

  You made your point,acknowledged Murtagh. I consent, however, something must be solved. As I’m sure you noticed, I bought supplies for us and the horses while I was in Gil’ead. But how can we get enough water? The roving tribes who live in the Hadarac usually disguise their wells and oases so no one can steal their water. And carrying enough for more than a day is impractical. Just think about how much Saphira drinks! She and the horses consume more water at one time than we do in a week. Unless you can make it rain whenever we need, I don’t see how we can go the direction you propose.

  Eragon rocked back on his heels. Making rain was well beyond his power. He suspected that not even the strongest Rider could have done it. Moving that much air was like trying to lift a mountain. He needed a solution that would not drain all of his strength. I wonder if it’s possible to convert sand into water? That would solve our problem, but only if it doesn’t take too much energy.

  have an idea,he said. me experiment, then I’ll give you an answer.Eragon strode out of the camp, with Saphira following closely.

  What are you going to try? she asked.

  don’t know,he muttered. Saphira, could you carry enough water for us?

  She shook her enormous head. No, I wouldn’t even be able to lift that much weight, let alone fly with it.

  Too bad. He knelt and picked up a stone with a cavity large enough for a mouthful of water. He pressed a clump of dirt into the hollow and studied it thoughtfully. Now came the hard part. Somehow he had to convert the dirt into water. But what words should I use? He puzzled over it for a moment, then picked two he hoped would work. The icy magic rushed through him as he breached the familiar barrier in his mind and commanded, moi!

  Immediately the dirt began to absorb his strength at a prodigious rate. Eragon’s mind flashed back to Brom’s warning that certain tasks could consume all of his power and take his life. Panic blossomed in his chest. He tried to release the magic but could not. It was linked to him until the task was complete or he was dead. All he could do was remain motionless, growing weaker every moment.