2. Varden (1/2)

chapter

1

thanks

for all the reviews. i'll work hard for the coming chapters.

eragon

was awoken by the piercing glares of the sun. he jerked upright, and

glanced checked for saphira's presence, assuring himself that she

was still by his side. she was sleeping soundly. the room was

stifling hot from her

eath, and he found his lithe body sticky with

perspiration. a bad choice of room he thought to himself

grimly.

he

stretched his muscles, letting the tension dissipate from his

muscles. then he pushed himself out of bed and silently walked out of

the room. the cool morning air rushed against his face, chilling him

to the bone. for the poor ventilation of the room, it had been

compensated for. the beor mountains sat beautifully on mother earth,

accentuating the pleasant climate. the ice-capped snow peaks were

pure white, the valleys below formed gracefully.

anderon,

the new headquaters of the varden. since nasuada had instigated the

relocation of the varden, the only problem was where it would be

situated. nasuada and orrin had agreed to a small city on the western

tip of surda, which was an ideal location for the varden would be

able to swiftly communicate with both surda and the dwarves.

within

weeks, the mass exodus proceeded as the citizens of the varden left

their old residence of tronjheim and left for new prospects.

marvelous.

saphira?

morning,

sleepyhead.

and

you slept longer than me.

true.

it's even better if you flew across it. saphira was eying

eragon playfully.

eragon

almost agreed. but then he thought of hrothgar and the despairing

dwarves, and reconsidered his decision. the subservient thirteen clan

leaders were now at their dangerous moment. because of the split

power in tronjheim, any of the dwarf clan leader could ascend the

throne, and most dwarves did not see eye to eye with dragonriders.

that

would be suicide.

indeed.

saphira began humming.

the

morning passed without significant events, and eragon was glad to be

left just alone. his thoughts were still tangled, and he needed time

to sort out the mess. sooner or later, he would have to talk face to

face with roran, but now was just not the time for

otherly

conversations.

eventually,

hunger drove eragon out of hibernation. saphira took off for her

daily hunting flights, and eragon walked along the streets of anderon

scouring for food while at the same time exploring a post-war varden.

he missed the weight of zar'roc on his waist.

as

he strode through the streets, men and women greeted him alike. it

was just like a "normal varden" day, but somehow, eragon felt

that the grandeur had been lost from before. still, it was a start…

with his new abstinence from

meat, eragon settled for a piping hot potato bun, thinking about

where he should go now. his movements were guided by instincts, and

soon he found himself at the gates of the varden headquarters.

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a

burly guard stood on watch, casting his glance at the imposing figure

approaching towards his direction.

the

pointed ears. it was eragon shadeslayer, better known as

argetlam. could it be true, the rumors of another rider working for

the empire? the thought seemed preposterous. but if it were true,

then even more so would be the burden on argetlam. they had better

hope that he would not buckle under pressure.

he

stepped aside to let argetlam pass.

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"hey

roran, over here!"

roran

looked confusedly around; wondering had called out his name.

"here,

you blind bat!"

he

spun around, and came face to face with the tanned face of baldor,

son of horst.

"good

day roran, haven't seen you around for a couple of days now."

baldor seemed unusually jovial.

"hi.

yeah well, i'm still adjusting." roran said truthfully, just as a

cold gust of wind blew by, chilling him to the bone. high up in the

mountains, tronjheim was certainly different from carvahall.

carvahall,

it was close in his heart, yet far beyond the vast reaches of the

hadarac desert. he thought sadly of what had probably befallen his

hometown and its remnant villagers. he pictured the last lines of

defenses shredded apart by the

ute force of the empire, annihilated

beyond the name of humanity, slaughtered to the last child. a surge

of uncontrollable fury enveloped his body. roran was unsure of who it

had been meant for. the empire? himself? eragon?

he

decided that it was the former. he made a silent vow to the gods to

crush the empire to the ground until all traces of its once horrible

history were to leave the land for eternity.

roran

whirled back from the depths of his thoughts, his face red. baldor

stared at him curiously.

"you

alright there, young lad? tell you what, let's go back to dad's

shop and get a drink, have a little chat. how 'bout that?"

"horst

has a shop?" roran asked inquisitively.

baldor

chuckled.

"yep,

can't ask him to sit still for even a minute. of course i did try,

but he refused and insisted on work. before you know it, he was

sitting in his new smith, working day and night. still, business is

going well, and everyone's contented for the moment."

"you

and al

iech helping out there?"

"yeah,

there's nothing for us to do other than that. nuff' said about

be. what have you been up to?"

roran

became angry once more. "i'm waiting for eragon to appear; it

almost seems like he's avoiding me"

baldor's

eyes widened. "you know, it still hasn't sunk in that eragon

carvahall villager is a legendary dragonrider, what the varden call

argetlam. it seems that nothing is impossible in alagaesia. who

knows, i might wake up one day to find that we're still back home."

he gave a hearty laugh.

"certainly.

but all i worry for is katrina." roran replied firmly, his worries

surfacing in fresh waves.

baldor

turned grim. "to be honest, i'm glad we're at the varden. we

fight the empire, who are ruled by that insane king, the population

driven to madness by cursed black magic. and to think that a year

ago, i had been consoling myself that galbatorix had our best

interests at heart." he spat on the ground. "my heart goes out to

you and katrina, but right now i'm afraid that there's nothing

much you can do."

roran

badly wanted to reject that statement, but he knew that baldor was

right. with alagaesia in mayhem and a long, drawn out war

approaching, he could not hope for anyone to notice the disappearance

of a female. needless to say, eragon was tied down by his duties as a

dragonrider, and as much as promised to rescue katrina, the varden

would never allow it.

katrina.

he could only think of her.

soon,

they reached horst's smith, and they proceeded inside for a

reunion.

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when

eragon entered the study, nasuada was sitting at her study table, a

stack of letters higher than her head rested on the table. eragon

greeted her with a bow. he had pledged his fidelity to nasuada and

was now partially subservient to her. her eye bags were distinct, her

posture sluggish. eragon knew that she had not slept well since

arriving back at the varden.

she

flashed a weary smile at eragon. "it's good to see you. is

anything the problem?" she inquired.

"nigh.

it is i who should be asking you that question. you look terrible."

eragon said truthfully.

nasuada

sighed. "news of the empire's movements has been pouring from all

corners of alagaesia. according to reports, the empire troops have

been stationed at melian and aroughs, which means that a full scale

invasion of surda is around the corner."

eragon

was shocked. how could the empire rally in such a short time after

their recent defeat?

"orrin

and i cannot comprehend how they have managed to gather such a large

force in a short time. already, dauth and cithri have been garrisoned

with surdian troops. but if the empire strikes at any time now, all

resistance would be crushed no matter how hard we fight. surda's

army might be better trained than those emipre rats, but they are too

small a force to challenge the might of galbatorix forces."

eragon

knew that the empire was stronger than ever with the inclusion of a

new dragonrider. murtagh might be even leading the attack!

surda alone would stand no chance.

"the

varden has been crippled by the recent war, and we cannot support

surda with many troops or much supplies. the only forces we can count

on are the urgals, but their race has retreated to the far eastern

waste lands where they hope to gain refuge from galbatorix."

for

once, eragon felt helpless. he was once the varden's trump card,

but the empire had evened the odds with murtagh. he pondered on what

course of action should he should take. oromis was still waiting at

ellesmera, but the true urgency lay in the borders of surda. he

thought it wise to consult nasuada.

"there

is only one choice, to go to ellesmera and complete your training. it

is the only way that you will be able to challenge galbatorix, and it

is the only way to appease the elves."

eragon

could not help but to protest.

"nasuada,