What should they give you for the poison?he asked.
Her voice quavered, but then she regained her strength.Tell them — to give me Túnivor’s Nectar. You must leave me now. . I have expended too much energy already. Do not talk with me again unless there is no hope of reaching the Varden. If that is the case, there is information I must impart to you so the Varden will survive. Farewell, Eragon, rider of dragons. . my life is in your hands.
Arya withdrew from their contact. The unearthly strains that had echoed across their link were gone. Eragon took a shuddering breath and forced his eyes open. Murtagh and Saphira stood on either side of him, watching with concern. “Are you all right?” asked Murtagh. “You’ve been kneeling here for almost fifteen minutes.”
“I have?” asked Eragon, blinking.
Yes, and grimacing like a pained gargoyle,commented Saphira dryly.
Eragon stood, wincing as his cramped knees stretched. “I talked with Arya!” Murtagh frowned quizzically, as if to inquire if he had gone mad. Eragon explained, “The elf — that’s her name.”
And what is it that ails her?asked Saphira impatiently.
Eragon swiftly told them of his entire discussion. “How far away are the Varden?” asked Murtagh.
“I’m not exactly sure,” confessed Eragon. “From what she showed me, I think it’s even farther than from here to Gil’ead.”
“And we’re supposed to cover that in three or four days?” demanded Murtagh angrily. “It took us fivelong days to get here! What do you want to do, kill the horses? They’re exhausted as it is.”
“But if we do nothing, she’ll die! If it’s too much for the horses, Saphira can fly ahead with Arya and me; at least we would get to the Varden in time. You could catch up with us in a few days.”
Murtagh grunted and crossed his arms. “Of course. Murtagh the pack animal. Murtagh the horse leader. I should have remembered that’s all I’m good for nowadays. Oh, and let’s not forget, every soldier in the Empire is searching for me now because you couldn’t defend yourself, and I had to go andsave you. Yes, I suppose I’ll just follow your instructions and bring up the horses in the rear like a good servant.”
Eragon was bewildered by the sudden venom in Murtagh’s voice. “What’s wrong with you? I’m grateful for what you did. There’s no reason to be angry with me! I didn’t ask you to accompany me or to rescue me from Gil’ead. You chose that. I haven’t forced you to do anything.”
“Oh, not openly, no. What else could I do but help you with the Ra’zac? And then later, at Gil’ead, how could I have left with a clear conscience? The problem with you,” said Murtagh, poking Eragon in the chest, “is that you’re so totally helpless you force everyone to take care of you!”
The words stung Eragon’s pride; he recognized a grain of truth in them. “Don’t touch me,” he growled.
Murtagh laughed, a harsh note in his voice. “Or what, you’ll punch me? You couldn’t hit a brick wall.” He went to shove Eragon again, but Eragon grabbed his arm and struck him in the stomach.
“I said, don’t touch me!”
Murtagh doubled over, swearing. Then he yelled and launched himself at Eragon. They fell in a tangle of arms and legs, pounding on each other. Eragon kicked at Murtagh’s right hip, missed, and grazed the fire. Sparks and burning embers scattered through the air.
They scrabbled across the ground, trying to get leverage. Eragon managed to get his feet under Murtagh’s chest and kicked mightily. Murtagh flew upside down over Eragon’s head, landing flat on his back with a solid thump.
Murtagh’s breath whooshed out. He rolled stiffly to his feet, then wheeled to face Eragon, panting heavily. They charged each other once more. Saphira’s tail slapped between them, accompanied by a deafening roar. Eragon ignored her and tried to jump over her tail, but a taloned paw caught him in midair and flung him back to the ground.
Enough!
He futilely tried to push Saphira’s muscled leg off his chest and saw that Murtagh was likewise pinned. Saphira roared again, snapping her jaws. She swung her head over Eragon and glared at him.You of all people should know better! Fighting like starving dogs over a scrap of meat. What would Brom say?
Eragon felt his cheeks burn and averted his eyes. He knew what Brom would have said. Saphira held them on the ground, letting them simmer, then said to Eragon pointedly,Now, if you don’t want to spend the night under my foot, you will politely ask Murtagh what is troubling him. She snaked her head over to Murtagh and stared down at him with an impassive blue eye.And tell him that I won’t stand for insults from either of you.
Won’t you let us up?complained Eragon.
No.
Eragon reluctantly turned his head toward Murtagh, tasting blood in the side of his mouth. Murtagh avoided his eyes and looked up at the sky. “Well, is she going to get off us?”
“No, not unless we talk. . She wants me to ask you what’s really the problem,” said Eragon, embarrassed.
Saphira growled an affirmative and continued to stare at Murtagh. It was impossible for him to escape her piercing glare. Finally he shrugged, muttering something under his breath. Saphira’s claws tightened on his chest, and her tail whistled through the air. Murtagh shot her an angry glance, then grudgingly said louder, “I told you before: I don’t want to go to the Varden.”
Eragon frowned. Was that all that was the matter? “Don’t want to. . or can’t?”
Murtagh tried to shove Saphira’s leg off him, then gave up with a curse. “Don’t want to! They’ll expect things from me that I can’t deliver.”
“Did you steal something from them?”
“I wish it were that simple.”
Eragon rolled his eyes, exasperated. “Well, what is it, then? Did you kill someone important or bed the wrong woman?”
“No, I was born,” said Murtagh cryptically. He pushed at Saphira again. This time she released them both. They got to their feet under her watchful eye and brushed dirt from their backs.
“You’re avoiding the question,” Eragon said, dabbing his split lip.
“So what?” spat Murtagh as he stomped to the edge of the camp. After a minute he sighed. “It doesn’t matter why I’m in this predicament, but I can tell you that the Varden wouldn’t welcome me even if I came bearing the king’s head. Oh, they might greet me nicely enough and let me into their councils, but trust me? Never. And if I were to arrive under less fortuitous circumstances, like the present ones, they’d likely clap me in irons.”
“Won’t you tell me what this is about?” asked Eragon. “I’ve done things I’m not proud of, too, so it’s not as if I’m going to pass judgment.”
Murtagh shook his head slowly, eyes glistening. “It isn’t like that. I haven’tdone anything to deserve this treatment, though it would have been easier to atone for if I had. No. . my only wrongdoing is existing in the first place.” He stopped and took a shaky breath. “You see, my father—”
A sharp hiss from Saphira cut him off abruptly.Look!
They followed her gaze westward. Murtagh’s face paled. “Demons above and below!”
A league or so away, parallel to the mountain range, was a column of figures marching east. The line of troops, hundreds strong, stretched for nearly a mile. Dust billowed from their heels. Their weapons glinted in the dying light. A standard-bearer rode before them in a black chariot, holding aloft a crimson banner.
“It’s the Empire,” said Eragon tiredly. “They’ve found us. . somehow.” Saphira poked her head over his shoulder and gazed at the column.
“Yes. . but those are Urgals, not men,” said Murtagh.
“How can you tell?”
Murtagh pointed at the standard. “That flag bears the personal symbol of an Urgal chieftain. He’s a ruthless brute, given to violent fits and insanity.”
“You’ve met him?”
Murtagh’s eyes tightened. “Once, briefly. I still have scars from that encounter. These Urgals might not have been sent here for us, but I’m sure we’ve been seen by now and that they will follow us. Their chieftain isn’t the sort to let a dragon escape his grasp, especially if he’s heard about Gil’ead.”
Eragon hurried to the fire and covered it with dirt. “We have to flee! You don’t want to go to the Varden, but I have to take Arya to them before she dies. Here’s a compromise: come with me until I reach the lake Kóstha-mérna, then go your own way.” Murtagh hesitated. Eragon added quickly, “If you leave now, in sight of the column, Urgals will follow you. And then where will you be, facing them alone?”
“Very well,” said Murtagh, tossing his saddlebags over Tornac’s flanks, “but when we near the Varden, Iwill leave.”