Inheritance
Page 69

 Christopher Paolini

  • Background:
  • Text Font:
  • Text Size:
  • Line Height:
  • Line Break Height:
  • Frame:
“No.” He wiped the spittle from the corner of his mouth, then looked up at her. “They’ve done all they can, and I’m no child to be fussed over.”
Nasuada hesitated, then dipped her head. “As you wish.”
“Now what happens?” he asked. “Am I finished here?”
“It was my intention to have you return as soon as we captured Aroughs—however that was accomplished—but you’re in no condition to ride all the way to Dras-Leona. You’ll have to wait until—”
“I won’t wait,” Roran growled. He grabbed the mirror and pulled it toward him until it was only a few inches from his face. “Don’t you coddle me, Nasuada. I can ride, and I can ride fast. The only reason I came here is because Aroughs was a threat to the Varden. That threat is gone now—I removed it—and I’m not about to stay here, injuries or no injuries, while my wife and unborn child sit camped less than a mile away from Murtagh and his dragon!”
Nasuada’s voice hardened for a moment. “You went to Aroughs because I sent you.” Then, in a more relaxed tone, she said, “However, your point is well taken. You may return at once, if you are able. There’s no reason for you to ride night and day, as you did during the journey there, but neither should you dawdle. Be sensible about it. I don’t want to have to explain to Katrina that you killed yourself traveling.… Whom do you think I should select as your replacement when you leave Aroughs?”
“Captain Brigman.”
“Brigman? Why? Didn’t you have some difficulties with him?”
“He helped keep the men in line after I was shot. My head wasn’t very clear at the time—”
“I imagine not.”
“—and he saw to it that they didn’t panic or lose their nerve. Also, he led them on my behalf while I was stuck in this miserable music box of a castle. He was the only one who had the experience for it. Without him, we wouldn’t have been able to extend our control over the whole of Aroughs. The men like him, and he’s skilled at planning and organizing. He’ll do well at governing the city.”
“Brigman it is, then.” Nasuada looked away from the mirror and murmured something to a person he could not see. Turning back to him, she said, “I must admit, I never thought you would actually capture Aroughs. It seemed impossible that anyone could breach the city’s defenses in so little time, with so few men, and without the aid of either a dragon or Rider.”
“Then why send me here?”
“Because I had to try something before letting Eragon and Saphira fly so far away, and because you have made a habit of confounding expectations and prevailing where others would have faltered or given up. If the impossible were to happen, it seemed most likely that it would occur under your watch, as indeed it did.”
Roran snorted softly. And how long can I keep tempting fate before I end up dead like Carn?
“Sneer if you want, but you cannot deny your own success. You have won a great victory for us today, Stronghammer. Or rather, Captain Stronghammer, I ought to say. You have more than earned the right to that title. I am immensely grateful for what you have done. By capturing Aroughs, you have freed us from the prospect of fighting a war on two fronts, which would have almost certainly meant our destruction. All of the Varden are in your debt, and I promise you, the sacrifices you and your men have made will not be forgotten.”
Roran tried to say something, failed, tried again, and failed a second time before he finally managed to say: “I … I will be sure to let the men know how you feel. It will mean a lot to them.”
“Please do. And now I must bid you farewell. It is late, you are sick, and I have kept you far too long as it is.”
“Wait …” He reached toward her and struck the tips of his fingers against the mirror. “Wait. You haven’t told me: How goes the siege of Dras-Leona?”
She stared at him, her expression flat. “Badly. And it shows no signs of improving. We could use you here, Stronghammer. If we don’t find a way to bring this situation to an end, and soon, everything we have fought for will be lost.”
THARDSVERGÛNDNZMAL
ou’re fine,” said Eragon, exasperated. “Stop worrying. There’s nothing you can do about it anyway.”
Saphira growled and continued to study her image in the lake. She turned her head from side to side, then exhaled heavily, releasing a cloud of smoke that drifted out over the water like a small, lost thundercloud.
Are you sure? she asked, and looked toward him. What if it doesn’t grow back?
“Dragons grow new scales all the time. You know that.”
Yes, but I’ve never lost one before!
He did not bother to hide his smile; he knew she would sense his amusement. “You shouldn’t be so upset. It wasn’t very big.” Reaching out, he traced the diamond-shaped hole on the left side of her snout, where the object of her consternation had so recently been ensconced. The gap in her sparkling armor was no larger than the end of his thumb and about an inch deep. At the bottom of it, her leathery blue hide was visible.
Curious, he touched her skin with the tip of his index finger. It felt warm and smooth, like the belly of a calf.
Saphira snorted and pulled her head away from him. Stop that; it tickles.
He chuckled and kicked at the water by the base of the rock he was sitting on, enjoying the sensation against the bottom of his bare feet.