“Shadeslayer! Arya!” exclaimed a female elf with long black hair. “Are you hurt? We heard Saphira’s lament, and we thought one of you might have died.”
Eragon glanced at Arya. His oath of secrecy to Queen Islanzadi would not allow him to discuss Oromis or Glaedr while in the presence of anyone not from Du Weldenvarden — such as Lady Lorana — without permission from the queen, Arya, or whoever might succeed Islanzadi to the knotted throne in Ellesmera.
She nodded and said, “I release you from your vow, Eragon, both of you. Speak of them to whomever you choose.”
“No, we are not hurt,” Eragon said. “However, Oromis and Glaedr have just died, slain in battle over Gil’ead.”
As one, the elves cried out in shock and then began to ply Eragon with dozens of questions. Arya raised a hand and said, “Restrain yourselves. Now is not the time or place to satisfy your curiosity. There are still soldiers about, and we do not know who might be listening. Keep your sorrow hidden within your hearts until we are safe and secure.” She paused and looked at Eragon, then said, “I will explain the full circumstances of their deaths to you once I know them myself.”
“Nen ono weohnata, Arya Drottningu,” they murmured.
“Did you hear my call?” Eragon asked Blodhgarm.
“I did,” the fur-covered elf said. “We came as fast as we could, but there were many soldiers between there and here.”
Eragon twisted his hand over his chest in the elves’ traditional gesture of respect. “I apologize for leaving you behind, Blodhgarmelda. The heat of battle made me foolish and overconfident, and we nearly died because of my mistake.”
“You need not apologize, Shadeslayer. We too made a mistake today, one which I promise we shall not repeat. From now on, we will fight alongside you and the Varden without reserve.”
Together, they all trooped down the stairs to the courtyard outside. The Varden had killed or captured most of the soldiers within the keep, and the few men who were still fighting surrendered once they saw that Lady Lorana was in the custody of the Varden. Since the stairwell was too small for her, Saphira had descended by wing to the courtyard and was waiting for them when they arrived.
Eragon stood with Saphira, Arya, and Lady Lorana while one of the Varden fetched Jormundur. When Jormundur joined them, they informed him of what had happened within the tower — which amazed him greatly — and then gave over Lady Lorana to his custody.
Jormundur bowed to her. “You may rest assured, Lady, we shall treat you with the respect and dignity due your station. We may be your enemies, but we are still civilized men.”
“Thank you,” she replied. “I am relieved to hear it. However, my main concern now is for the safety of my subjects. If I might, I would like to speak with your leader, Nasuada, about her plans for them.”
“I believe she wishes to speak with you as well.”
As they parted, Lady Lorana said, “I am most grateful to you, elf, and to you as well, Dragon Rider, for killing that monster before he could wreak sorrow and destruction upon Feinster. Fate has placed us on opposite sides of this conflict, but that does not mean I cannot admire your bravery and prowess. We may never meet again, so fare thee well, both of you.”
Eragon bowed and said, “Fare thee well, Lady Lorana.”
“May the stars watch over you,” said Arya.
Blodhgarm and the elves under his command accompanied Eragon, Saphira, and Arya as they searched Feinster for Nasuada. They found her riding her stallion through the gray streets, inspecting the damage to the city.
Nasuada greeted Eragon and Saphira with evident relief. “I’m glad you have finally returned. We’ve needed you here these past few days. I see you have a new sword, Eragon, a Dragon Rider’s sword. Did the elves give it to you?”
“In an indirect way, yes.” Eragon eyed the various people standing nearby and lowered his voice. “Nasuada, we must talk with you alone. It’s important.”
“Very well.” Nasuada studied the buildings that lined the street, then pointed at a house that appeared abandoned. “Let us talk in there.”
Two of Nasuada’s guards, the Nighthawks, ran forward and entered the house. They reappeared a few minutes later and bowed to Nasuada, saying, “It’s empty, my Lady.”
“Good. Thank you.” She dismounted her steed, handed the reins to one of the men in her retinue, and strode inside. Eragon and Arya followed.
The three of them wandered through the shabby building until they found a room, the kitchen, with a window large enough to accommodate Saphira’s head. Eragon pushed opened the shutters, and Saphira laid her head on the wooden counter. Her breath filled the kitchen with the smell of charred meat.
“We may speak without fear,” Arya announced after casting spells that would prevent anyone from eavesdropping on their conversation.
Nasuada rubbed her arms and shivered. “What is this all about, Eragon?” she asked.
Eragon swallowed, wishing that he did not have to dwell upon Oromis and Glaedr’s fate. Then he said, “Nasuada... Saphira and I were not alone... There was another dragon and another Rider fighting against Galbatorix.”
“I knew it,” breathed Nasuada, her eyes shining. “It was the only explanation that made sense. They were your teachers in Ellesmera, weren’t they?”
“No more?”
Eragon pressed his lips together and shook his head, tears blurring his vision. “Just this morning they died at Gil’ead. Galbatorix used Thorn and Murtagh to kill them; I heard him speak to them with Murtagh’s tongue.”
The excitement drained from Nasuada’s face, replaced by a dull, empty expression. She sank into the nearest chair and stared at the cinders in the cold fireplace. The kitchen was silent. At last she stirred and said, “Are you sure they are dead?”
“Yes.”
Nasuada wiped her eyes on the hem of her sleeve. “Tell me about them, Eragon. Would you, please?”
So for the next half hour, Eragon spoke of Oromis and Glaedr. He explained how they had survived the fall of the Riders and why they had chosen to keep themselves hidden thereafter. He explained about their respective disabilities, and he spent some time describing their personalities and what it had been like to study under them. Eragon’s sense of loss deepened as he remembered the long days he had spent with Oromis on the Crags of Tel’naeir and the many things the elf had done for him and Saphira. As he came to their encounter with Thorn and Murtagh at Gil’ead, Saphira lifted her head off the counter and began to keen again, her mournful wail soft and persistent.
Afterward, Nasuada sighed and said, “I wish I could have met Oromis and Glaedr, but alas, it was not to be... There is one thing I still do not understand, Eragon. You said you
“Yes, I would like to know that as well,” said Arya.
Eragon looked for something to drink, but there was no water or wine in the kitchen. He coughed, then launched into an account of their recent trip to Ellesmera. Saphira occasionally made a comment, but for the most part, she left it to him to tell the story. Starting with the truth about his parentage, Eragon proceeded in quick succession through the events of their stay, from their discovery of the brightsteel under the Menoa tree to the forging of Brisingr to his visit with Sloan. Last of all, he told Arya and Nasuada about the dragons’ heart of hearts.
“Well,” said Nasuada. She stood and walked the length of the kitchen and then back again. “You the son of Brom, and Galbatorix leeching off the souls of dragons whose bodies have died. It’s almost too much to comprehend... ” She rubbed her arms again. “At least we now know the true source of Galbatorix’s power.”
Arya stood motionless, breathless, her expression stunned. “The dragons are still alive,” she whispered. She clasped her hands together in a prayer-like fashion and held them against her chest. “They are still alive after all these years. Oh, if only we could tell the rest of my race. How they would rejoice! And how terrible their wrath would be when they heard of the enslavement of the Eldunari! We would run straight to Uru’baen, and we would
