Paolini, Christopher - Inheritance Trilogy, Book 2 - Eldest (v1.5) (4 page)

darkly, while Elessari just smiled, the dagger hilt jiggling on her chest.

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“Because,” said Jörmundur, selecting his words with care, “Ajihad was

speaking of military matters then, nothing more. Also, I am a member of

this council, which only has power because we support one another. It

would be foolish and dangerous for one of us to raise himself above the

rest.” The council relaxed as he finished, and Elessari patted Jörmundur

on the forearm.

Ha! exclaimed Saphira. He probably would have taken power if it were

possible to force the others to back him. Just look how they eye him. He’s

like a wolf in their midst.

A wolf in a pack of jackals, perhaps.

“Does Nasuada have enough experience?” inquired Eragon.

Elessari pressed herself against the table’s edge as she leaned forward. “I

had already been here for seven years when Ajihad joined the Varden.

I’ve watched Nasuada grow up from a darling girl to the woman she is. A

trifle light-headed occasionally, but a good figure to lead the Varden. The

people will love her. Now I,” she patted herself affectionately on the

bosom, “and my friends will be here to guide her through these troubled

times. She will never be without someone to show her the way. Inexpe-

rience should be no barrier to her taking her rightful position.”

Understanding flooded Eragon. They want a puppet!

“Ajihad’s funeral will be held in two days,” broke in Umérth. “Directly

afterward, we plan to appoint Nasuada as our new leader. We have yet

to ask her, but she will surely agree. We want you to be present at the

appointing—no one, not even Hrothgar, can complain about it then—

and to swear fealty to the Varden. That will give back the confidence

Ajihad’s death has stolen from the people, and prevent anyone from try-

ing to splinter this organization.”

Fealty!

Saphira quickly touched Eragon’s mind. Notice, they don’t want you to

swear to Nasuada—just to the Varden.

Yes, and they want to be the ones to appoint Nasuada, which would indi-

cate that the council is more powerful than she. They could have asked

Arya or us to appoint her, but that would mean acknowledging whoever did

it as above everyone in the Varden. This way, they assert their superiority

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over Nasuada, gain control over us through fealty, and also get the benefit

of having a Rider endorse Nasuada in public.

“What happens,” he asked, “if I decide not to accept your offer?”

“Offer?” Falberd asked, seeming puzzled. “Why, nothing, of course.

Only it would be a terrible slight if you’re not present when Nasuada is

chosen. If the hero of the battle of Farthen Dûr ignores her, what can she

think but that a Rider has spited her and found the Varden unworthy to

serve? Who could bear such a shame?”

The message could have been no clearer. Eragon clenched Zar’roc’s

pommel under the table, yearning to scream that it was unnecessary to

force him to support the Varden, that he would have done it anyway.

Now, however, he instinctively wanted to rebel, to elude the shackles

they were trying to place on him. “Since Riders are so highly thought of, I

could decide that my efforts would be best spent guiding the Varden

myself.”

The mood in the room hardened. “That would be unwise,” stated Sa-

brae.

Eragon combed his mind for a way to escape the situation. With Ajihad

gone, said Saphira, it may be impossible to remain independent of every

group, as he wanted us to. We cannot anger the Varden, and if this council

is to control it once Nasuada is in place, then we must appease them. Re-

member, they act as much out of self-preservation as we do.

But what will they want us to do once we are in their grasp? Will they re-

spect the Varden’s pact with the elves and send us to Ellesméra for training,

or command otherwise? Jörmundur strikes me as an honorable man, but the

rest of the council? I can’t tell.

Saphira brushed the top of his head with her jaw. Agree to be at this

ceremony with Nasuada; that much I think we must do. As for swearing fe-

alty, see if you can avoid acquiescing. Perhaps something will occur between

now and then that will change our position... Arya may have a solution.

Without warning, Eragon nodded and said, “As you wish; I shall attend

Nasuada’s appointment.”

Jörmundur looked relieved. “Good, good. Then we have only one more

matter to deal with before you go: Nasuada’s acceptance. There’s no rea-

son to delay, with all of us here. I’ll send for her immediately. And Arya

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too—we need the elves’ approval before making this decision public. It

shouldn’t be difficult to procure; Arya cannot go against our council and

you, Eragon. She will have to agree with our judgment.”

“Wait,” commanded Elessari, a steely glint in her eyes. “Your word,

though, Rider. Will you give it in fealty at the ceremony?”

“Yes, you must do that,” agreed Falberd. “The Varden would be dis-

graced if we couldn’t provide you every protection.”

A nice way to put it!

It was worth a try, said Saphira. I fear you have no choice now.

They wouldn’t dare harm us if I refused.

No, but they could cause us no end of grief. It is not for my own sake that

I say accept, but for yours. Many dangers exist that I cannot protect you

from, Eragon. With Galbatorix set against us, you need allies, not enemies,

around you. We cannot afford to contend with both the Empire and the

Varden.

Finally, “I’ll give it.” All around the table were signs of relaxation—even

a poorly concealed sigh from Umérth. They’re afraid of us!

As well they should be, sniped Saphira.

Jörmundur called for Jarsha, and with a few words sent the boy scam-

pering off for Nasuada and Arya. While he was gone, the conversation

fell into an uncomfortable silence. Eragon ignored the council, focusing

instead on working a way out of his dilemma. None sprang to mind.

When the door opened again, everyone turned expectantly. First came

Nasuada, chin held high and eyes steady. Her embroidered gown was the

deepest shade of black, deeper even than her skin, broken only by a slash

of royal purple that stretched from shoulder to hip. Behind her was Arya,

her stride as lithe and smooth as a cat’s, and an openly awestruck Jarsha.

The boy was dismissed, then Jörmundur helped Nasuada into a seat.

Eragon hastened to do the same for Arya, but she ignored the proffered

chair and stood at a distance from the table. Saphira, he said, let her know

all that’s happened. I have a feeling the council won’t inform her that

they’ve compelled me to give the Varden my loyalty.

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“Arya,” acknowledged Jörmundur with a nod, then concentrated on

Nasuada. “Nasuada, Daughter of Ajihad, the Council of Elders wishes to

formally extend its deepest condolences for the loss you, more than any-

one else, have suffered. . ” In a lower voice, he added, “You have our per-

sonal sympathies as well. We all know what it is like to have a family

member killed by the Empire.”

“Thank you,” murmured Nasuada, lowering her almond eyes. She sat,

shy and demure, and with an air of vulnerability that made Eragon want

to comfort her. Her demeanor was tragically different from that of the

energetic young woman who had visited him and Saphira in the dragon-

hold before the battle.

“Although this is your time of mourning, a quandary exists that you

must resolve. This council cannot lead the Varden. And someone must

replace your father after the funeral. We ask that you receive the posi-

tion. As his heir, it is rightfully yours—the Varden expect it of you.”

Nasuada bowed her head with shining eyes. Grief was plain in her

voice when she said, “I never thought I would be called upon to take my

father’s place so young. Yet. . if you insist it is my duty. . I will embrace

the office.”

23

TRUTH AMONG FRIENDS

The Council of Elders beamed with triumph, pleased that Nasuada had

done what they wanted. “We do insist,” said Jörmundur, “for your own

good and the good of the Varden.” The rest of the elders added their ex-

pressions of support, which Nasuada accepted with sad smiles. Sabrae

threw an angry glance at Eragon when he did not join in.

Throughout the exchange, Eragon watched Arya for any reaction to ei-

ther his news or the council’s announcement. Neither revelation caused

her inscrutable expression to change. However, Saphira told him, She

wishes to talk with us afterward.

Before Eragon could reply, Falberd turned to Arya. “Will the elves find

this agreeable?”

She stared at Falberd until the man fidgeted under her piercing gaze,

then lifted an eyebrow. “I cannot speak for my queen, but I find nothing

objectionable to it. Nasuada has my blessing.”

How could she find it otherwise, knowing what we’ve told her? thought

Eragon bitterly. We’re all backed into corners.

Arya’s remark obviously pleased the council. Nasuada thanked her and

asked Jörmundur, “Is there anything else that must be discussed? For I am

weary.”

Jörmundur shook his head. “We will make all the arrangements. I

promise you won’t be troubled until the funeral.”

“Again, thank you. Would you leave me now? I need time to consider

how best to honor my father and serve the Varden. You have given me

much to ponder.” Nasuada splayed her delicate fingers on the dark cloth

on her lap.

Umérth looked like he was going to protest at the council being dis-

missed, but Falberd waved a hand, silencing him. “Of course, whatever

will give you peace. If you need help, we are ready and willing to serve.”

Gesturing for the rest of them to follow, he swept past Arya to the door.

“Eragon, will you please stay?”

Startled, Eragon lowered himself back into his chair, ignoring alert looks

24

from the councilors. Falberd lingered by the door, suddenly reluctant to

depart, then slowly went out. Arya was the last to go. Before she closed

the door, she looked at Eragon, her eyes revealing worry and apprehen-

sion that had been concealed before.

Nasuada sat partially turned away from Eragon and Saphira. “So we

meet again, Rider. You haven’t greeted me. Have I offended you?”

“No, Nasuada; I was reluctant to speak for fear of being rude or foolish.

Current circumstances are unkind to hasty statements.” Paranoia that

they might be eavesdropped on gripped him. Reaching through the bar-

rier in his mind, he delved into the magic and intoned: “Atra nosu waíse

vardo fra eld hórnya. . There, now we may speak without being over-

heard by man, dwarf, or elf.”

Nasuada’s posture softened. “Thank you, Eragon. You don’t know what

a gift that is.” Her words were stronger and more self-assured than before.

Behind Eragon’s chair, Saphira stirred, then carefully made her way

around the table to stand before Nasuada. She lowered her great head un-

til one sapphire eye met Nasuada’s black ones. The dragon stared at her

for a full minute before snorting softly and straightening. Tell her, said

Saphira, that I grieve for her and her loss. Also that her strength must be-

come the Varden’s when she assumes Ajihad’s mantle. They will need a

sure guide.

Eragon repeated the words, adding, “Ajihad was a great man—his name

will always be remembered. . There is something I must tell you. Before

Ajihad died, he charged me, commanded me, to keep the Varden from

falling into chaos. Those were his last words. Arya heard them as well.

“I was going to keep what he said a secret because of the implications,

but you have a right to know. I’m not sure what Ajihad meant, nor ex-

actly what he wanted, but I am certain of this: I will always defend the

Varden with my powers. I wanted you to understand that, and that I’ve

no desire to usurp the Varden’s leadership.”

Nasuada laughed brittlely. “But that leadership isn’t to be me, is it?” Her

reserve had vanished, leaving behind only composure and determination.

“I know why you were here before me and what the council is trying to

do. Do you think that in the years I served my father, we never planned

for this eventuality? I expected the council to do exactly what it did.

And now everything is in place for me to take command of the Varden.”

25

“You have no intention of letting them rule you,” said Eragon with

wonder.

“No. Continue to keep Ajihad’s instruction secret. It would be unwise

to bandy it about, as people might take it to mean that he wanted you to

succeed him, and that would undermine my authority and destabilize the

Varden. He said what he thought he had to in order to protect the

Varden. I would have done the same. My father. .” She faltered briefly.

“My father’s work will not go unfinished, even if it takes me to the grave.

That is what I want you, as a Rider, to understand. All of Ajihad’s plans,

all his strategies and goals, they are mine now. I will not fail him by being

weak. The Empire will be brought down, Galbatorix will be dethroned,

and the rightful government will be raised.”

By the time she finished, a tear ran down her cheek. Eragon stared, ap-