Chapter XXIV: Ajihad
We entered another room, where at the end stood a man behind a large walnut desk. "Welcome to Tronjheim, Eragon and Saphira. I am Ajihad. Please, seat yourselves."
I sat next to Murtagh, Eragon sitting on the other side of Murtagh. Saphira settled protectively behind us. Ajihad snapped his fingers, and a man slipped out from behind the staircase. He was identical to the bald man beside him. I scowled. "Your confusion is understandable; they are twin brothers," Ajihad said with a smile, only paying attention to Eragon's confusion. "I would tell you their names, but they have none."
Saphira hissed. The Twins retreated under the stairs and stood impassively beside each other. Ajihad pressed his fingers together as he stared at us. He studied us for a long time with an unwavering gaze, before having a whispered conversation with one of the Twins.
The dark-skinned man looked at Murtagh "You have placed me in a difficult position by refusing to be examined. You have been allowed into Farthen Dûr because the Twins have assured me that they can control you and because of your actions on behalf of Eragon and Arya. I understand that there may be things you wish to keep hidden in your mind, but as long as you do, we cannot trust you."
Murtagh lifted his chin, "You wouldn't trust me anyway," he said defiantly.
Ajihad's face darkened as Murtagh spoke, and his eyes flashed dangerously. "Though it's been twenty and three years since it last broke upon my ear... I know that voice." He stood ominously, chest swelling. The Twins looked alarmed and put their heads together, whispering frantically. "It came from another man, one more beast than human. Get up."
Murtagh warily complied, his eyes darting between the Twins and Ajihad. "Remove your shirt," ordered Ajihad. With a shrug, Murtagh pulled off his tunic. "Now turn around." As he pivoted to the side, light fell upon the scar on his back.
"Murtagh," breathed Ajihad. A grunt of surprise came from Orik. Without warning, Ajihad turned on the Twins and thundered, "Did you know of this?"
The Twins bowed their heads. "We discovered his name in Eragon's mind, but we did not suspect that this boy was the son of one as powerful as Morzan. It never occurred—"
"And you didn't tell me?" demanded Ajihad. He raised a hand, forestalling their explanation. "We will discuss it later." He faced Murtagh again. "First I must untangle this muddle. Do you still refuse to be probed?"
"Yes," said Murtagh sharply, slipping back into his tunic. "I won't let anyone inside my head."
Ajihad leaned on his desk. "There will be unpleasant consequences if you don't. Unless the Twins can certify that you aren't a threat, we cannot give you credence, despite, and perhaps because of, the assistance you have given Eragon. Without that verification, the people here, dwarf and human alike, will tear you apart if they learn of your presence. I'll be forced to keep you confined at all times – as much for your protection as for ours. It will only get worse once the dwarf king, Hrothgar, demands custody of you. Don't force yourself into that situation when it can easily be avoided."
Murtagh shook his head stubbornly. "No... even if I were to submit, I would still be treated like a leper and an outcast. All I wish is to leave. If you let me do that peacefully, I'll never reveal your location to the Empire."
"What will happen if you are captured and brought before Galbatorix?" demanded Ajihad. "He will extract every secret from your mind, no matter how strong you may be. Even if you could resist him, how can we trust that you won't rejoin him in the future? I cannot take that chance."
"Will you hold me prisoner forever?" demanded Murtagh, straightening.
"No," said Ajihad, "only until you let yourself be examined. If you are found trustworthy, the Twins will remove all knowledge of Farthen Dûr's location from your mind before you leave. We won't risk someone with those memories falling into Galbatorix's hands. What is it to be, Murtagh? Decide quickly or else the path will be chosen for you."
Finally Murtagh spoke, the words slow and distinct. "My mind is the one sanctuary that has not been stolen from me. Men have tried to breach it before, but I've learned to defend it vigorously, for I am only safe with my innermost thoughts. You have asked for the one thing I cannot give, least of all to those two." He gestured at the Twins. "Do with me what you will, but know this: death will take me before I'll expose myself to their probing."
Admiration glinted in Ajihad's steely eyes. "I'm not surprised by your choice, though I had hoped otherwise... Guards!" The cedar door slammed open as warriors rushed in, weapons ready. Ajihad pointed at Murtagh and commanded, "Take him to a windowless room and bar the door securely. Post six men by the entrance and allow no one inside until I come to see him. Do not speak to him, either."
"I want everyone out of this room but Eragon, Saphira, and Umaroth. Now!" Ajihad said abruptly.
Bowing, the twins departed, but Orik said, "Sir, the king will want to know of Murtagh. And there is still the matter of my insubordination..."
Ajihad frowned, then waved his hand. "I will tell Hrothgar myself. As for your actions... wait outside until I call for you. And don't let the Twins get away. I'm not done with them, either."
"Very well," Orik said before departing.
After a long silence, Eragon spoke impatiently. "Is Arya all right?"
"No," Ajihad said gravely, "but the healers assure me she will recover. They worked on her all through the night. The poison took a dreadful toll on her. She would've have lived if not for you three. For that you have the Varden's deepest thanks."
"So, what now?" I asked.
"I need you to tell me how you found Saphira and everything that's happened since," AJihad said, forming a steeple with his fingers. "Some of it I know from the message Brom sent us, other parts from the Twins. But I want to hear it from you, especially the details concerning Brom's death."
Between Eragon, Saphira, and myself we managed to speak for hours. There were some details we kept to ourselves without needing to tell each other. When the tale was complete, Eragon and I fell silent.
Ajihad stood, clasped his hands behind his back, and absently studied one of the bookshelves. After a time he returned to his desk. "Brom's death is a terrible loss," he began. "He was a close friend of mine and a powerful ally of the Varden. He saved us from destruction many times through his bravery and intelligence. Even now, when he's gone, he's provided us with the one thing that can ensure our success – a Dragon Rider."
"But what can you expect me to accomplish?" Eragon asked.
"I will explain it in full," Ajihad said, "but there are more urgent matters to be dealt with first. The news of the Urgals' alliance with the Empire is extremely serious. If Galbatorix is gathering an Urgal army to destroy us, the Varden will be hard pressed to survive, even though many of us are protected here in Farthen Dûr. That a Rider, even one as evil as Galbatorix, would consider a pact with such monsters is indeed proof of madness. I shudder to think of what he promised them in return for the fickle loyalty. And then there is the Shade. Can you describe him?"
Eragon nodded. "He was tall, thin, and very pale, with red eyes and hair. He was dressed all in black."
"What of his sword – did you see it? Did it have a long scratch on the blade?" Ajihad asked intensely.
Eragon nodded again, "How did you know?"
"Because I put it there while trying to cut out his heart," said Ajihad with a grim smile. "His name is Durza – one of the most vicious and cunning fiends to ever stalk this land. He is the perfect servant for Galbatorix and a dangerous enemy for us. You say that you killed him. How was it done?"
Eragon responded, "Murtagh shot him twice. The first arrow caught him in the shoulder; the second one struck him between the eyes."
"I was afraid of that," said Ajihad, frowning. "You didn't kill him. Shades can only be destroyed by a thrust through the heart. Anything short of that will cause them to vanish and then reappear elsewhere in spirit form. It's an unpleasant process, but Durza will survive and return stronger than ever."
A moody silence settled over us like a foreboding thunderhead. Then Ajihad stated, "You are an enigma, Eragon, a quandary that no one knows how to solve. Everyone knows what the Varden want – or the Urgals, or even Galbatorix – but no one knows what you want. And that makes you dangerous, especially to Galbatorix. He fears you because he doesn't know what you will do next."
"Do the Varden fear me?" asked Eragon quietly.
"No," said Ajihad carefully. "We are hopeful. But if that hope proves false, then yes, we will be afraid." Eragon looked down. "You must understand the unusual nature of your position. There are factions who want you to serve their interests and no one else's. The moment you entered Farthen Dûr, their influence and power began tugging on you."
"Including yours?" asked Eragon.
Ajihad chuckled, though his eyes were sharp. "Including mine. There are certain things you should know: first is how Saphira's egg happened to appear in the Spine. Did Brom ever tell you what was done with her egg after he brought it here?"
"No," said Eragon, glancing at Saphira. She blinked and flicked her tongue at him. Ajihad tapped his desk before beginning. "When Brom first brought the egg to the Varden, everyone was deeply interested in its fate. We had thought the dragons were exterminated. The dwarves were solely concerned with making sure that the future Rider would be an ally – though some of them were opposed to having a new Rider at all – while the elves and Varden had a more personal stake in the matter. The reason was simple enough: throughout history all the Riders have been either elven or human, with the majority being elven. There has never been a dwarf Rider.
"Because of Galbatorix's betrayals, the elves were reluctant to let any of the Varden handle the egg for fear that the dragon inside would hatch for a human with similar instabilities. It was a challenging situation, as both sides wanted the Rider for their own. The dwarves only aggravated the problem by arguing obstinately with both the elves and us whenever they had the chance. Tensions escalated, and before long, threats were made that were later regretted. It was then that Brom suggested a compromise that allowed all sides to save face.
"He proposed that the egg be ferried between the Varden and the elves every year. At each place children would parade past it, and then the bearers of the egg would wait to see if the dragon would hatch. If it didn't, they would leave and return to the other group. But if the dragon did hatch, the new Rider's training would be undertaken immediately. For the first year or so he or she would be instructed here, by Brom. Then the Rider would be taken to the elves, who would finish the education.
"The elves reluctantly accepted this plan... with the stipulation that if Brom were to die before the dragon hatched, they would be free to train the new Rider without interference. The agreement was slanted in their favour – we both knew that the dragon would likely chose an elf – but it provided a desperately needed semblance of equality."
Ajihad paused, his rich eyes somber. Shadows bit into his face under his cheekbones, making them jut out. "It was hoped that this new Rider would bring our two races closer together. We waited for well over a decade, but the egg never hatched. The matter passed from our minds, and we rarely thought about it except to lament the egg's inactivity.
"Then last year we suffered a terrible loss. Arya and the egg disappeared on her return from Tronjheim to the elven city Osilon. The elves were the first to discover she was missing. They found her steed and guards slain in Du Weldenvarden and a group of slaughtered Urgals nearby. But neither Arya nor the egg was there. When this news reached me, I feared that Urgals had both of them and would soon learn the location of Farthen Dûr and the elves' capital, Ellesméra, where their queen, Islanzadi, lives. Now I understand they were working for the Empire, which is far worse.
"We won't know exactly what occurred during that attack until Arya wakes, but I have deduced a few details from what you've said." Ajihad's vest rustled as he leaned his elbows on the desk. "The attack must have been swift and decisive, else Arya would have escaped. Without any warning, and deprived of a place to hide, she could have done only one thing – used magic to transport the egg elsewhere."
"She can use magic?" I asked, before wondering if this meant that all elves could use magic.
"It was one of the reasons why she was chosen to guard the egg. Anyway, Arya couldn't have returned it to us – she was too far away – and the elves' realm is warded by arcane barriers that prevent anything from entering their borders through magical means. She must have thought of Brom and, in desperation, sent the egg toward Carvahall. Without time to prepare, I'm not surprised she missed by the margin she did. The Twins tell me it is an imprecise art."
"Why was she closer to Palancar Valley than the Varden?" asked Eragon. "Where do the elves really live? Where is this... Ellesméra?"
Ajihad's keen gaze bored into Eragon as he considered the question. "I don't tell you this lightly, for the elves guard the knowledge jealously. But you should know, and I do this as a display of trust. Their cities lie far to the north, in the deepest reaches of the endless forest Du Weldenvarden. Not since the Riders' time has anyone, dwarf or human, been elf-friend enough to walk in their leafy halls. I do not even know how to find Ellesméra. As for Osilon... based on where Arya disappeared, I suspect it is near Du Weldenvarden's western edge, toward Carvahall. You must have many other questions, but bear with me and keep them until I have finished."
He gathered his memories, then spoke at a quickened pace. "When Arya disappeared, the elves withdrew their support from the Varden. Queen Islanzadi was especially enraged and refused any further contact with us. As a result, even though I received Brom's message, the elves are still ignorant of you and Saphira... Without their supplies to sustain my troops, we have fared badly these past months in skirmishes with the Empire.
"With Arya's return and your arrival, I expect the queen's hostility will abate. The fact that you rescued Arya will greatly help our case with her. Your training, however, is going to present a problem for both Varden and elves. Brom obviously had a chance to teach you, but we need to know how thorough he was. For that reason, you'll have to be tested to determine the extent of your abilities. Also, the elves will expect you to finish your training with them, though I'm not sure if there's time for that."
"Why not?" asked Eragon.
"For several reasons. Chief among them, the tidings you brought about the Urgals," said Ajihad, his eyes straying to Saphira. "You see the Varden are in an extremely delicate position. On one hand, we have to comply with the elves' wishes if we want to keep them as allies. At the same time, we cannot anger the dwarves if we wish to lodge in Tronjheim."
"Aren't the dwarves part of the Varden?" I questioned.
Ajihad hesitated. "In a sense, yes. They allow us to live here and provide assistance in our struggle against the Empire, but they are loyal only to their king. I have no power over them except for what Hrothgar gives me, and even he often has trouble with the dwarf clans. The thirteen clans are subservient to Hrothgar, but each clan chief wields enormous power; they choose the new dwarf king when the old one dies. Hrothgar is sympathetic to our cause, but many of the chiefs aren't. He can't afford to anger them unnecessarily or he'll lose the support of his people, so his actions on our behalf have been severely circumscribed."
"These clan chiefs," said Eragon, "are they against me as well?"
"Even more so, I'm afraid," said Ajihad wearily. "There has long been enmity between dwarves and dragons – before the elves came and made peace, dragons made a regular habit of eating the dwarves' flocks and stealing their gold – and the dwarves are slow to forget past wrongs. Indeed, they never fully accepted the Riders or allowed them to police their kingdom. Galbatorix's rise to power has only served to convince many of them that it would be better never to deal with Riders or dragons ever again." He directed his last words at Saphira.
Eragon said slowly, "Why doesn't Galbatorix know where Farthen Dûr and Ellesméra are? Surely he was told of them when he was instructed by the Riders."
"Told of them, yes – shown where they are, no. It's one thing to know that Farthen Dûr lies within these mountains, quite another to find it. Galbatorix hadn't been taken to either place before his dragon was killed. After that, of course, the Riders didn't trust him. He tried to force the information out of several Riders during his rebellion, but they chose to die rather than reveal it to him. As for the dwarves, he's never managed to capture one alive, though it's only a matter of time."
"Then why doesn't he just take an army and march through Du Weldenvarden until he finds Ellesméra?" I asked.
"Because the elves still have enough power to resist him," said Ajihad. "He doesn't dare test his strength against theirs, at least not yet. But his cursed sorcery grows stronger each year. With another Rider at his side, he would be unstoppable. He keeps trying to get one of his two eggs to hatch, but so far he's been unsuccessful."
"How can his power be increasing? The strength of his body limits his abilities – it can't build itself up forever," Eragon said.
"We don't know," said Ajihad, shrugging his broad shoulders, "and neither do the elves. We can only hope that someday he will be destroyed by one of his own spells." He reached inside his vest and somberly pulled out a battered piece of parchment. "Do you know what this is?" he asked, placing it on the desk.
Eragon bent forward and examined it. Lines of black script, written in an alien language, were inked across the page. Large sections of the writing had been destroyed by blots of blood. One edge of the parchment was charred. He shook his head. "No, I don't."
"It was taken from the leader of the Urgal host we destroyed last night. It cost us twelve men to do so—they sacrificed themselves so that you might escape safely. The writing is the king's invention, a script he uses to communicate with his servants. It took me a while, but I was able to devise its meaning, at least where it's legible. It reads: ... gatekeeper at Ithrö Zhâda is to let this bearer and his minions pass. They are to be bunked with the others of their kind and by ... but only if the two factions refrain from fighting. Command will be given under Tarok, under Gashz, under Durza, under Ushnark the Mighty.
"Ushnark is Galbatorix. It means 'father' in the Urgal tongue, an affectation that pleases him. Find what they are suitable for and ... The footmen and ... are to be kept separate. No weapons are to be distributed until ... for marching.
"Nothing else can be read past there, except for a few vague words," said Ajihad.
"Where's Ithrö Zhâda? I've never heard of it," Eragon said.
"Nor have I," confirmed Ajihad, "which makes me suspect that Galbatorix has renamed an existing place for his own purposes. After deciphering this, I asked myself what hundreds of Urgals were doing by the Beor Mountains where you first saw them and where they were going. The parchment mentions 'others of their kind,' so I assume there are even more Urgals at their destination. There's only one reason for the king to gather such a force – to forge a bastard army of humans and monsters to destroy us.
"For now, there is nothing to do but wait and watch. Without further information we cannot find this Ithrö Zhâda. Still, Farthen Dûr has not yet been discovered, so there is hope. The only Urgals to have seen it died last night."
"How did you know we were coming?" asked Eragon. "One of the Twins was waiting for us, and there was an ambush in place for the Kull." He was aware of Saphira listening intently. Though she kept her own counsel, he knew she would have things to say later.
"We have sentinels placed at the entrance of the valley you traveled through—on either side of the Beartooth River. They sent a dove to warn us," explained Ajihad.
"When the egg and Arya disappeared, did you tell Brom? He said that he hadn't heard anything from the Varden," Eragon said.
"We tried to alert him," said Ajihad, "but I suspect our men were intercepted and killed by the Empire. Why else would the Ra'zac have gone to Carvahall? After that, Brom was traveling with you, and it was impossible to get word to him. I was relieved when he contacted me via messenger from Teirm. It didn't surprise me that he went to Jeod; they were old friends. And Jeod could easily send us a message because he smuggles supplies to us through Surda.
"All of this has raised serious questions. How did the Empire know where to ambush Arya and, later, our messengers to Carvahall? How has Galbatorix learned which merchants help the Varden? Jeod's business has been virtually destroyed since you left him, as have those of other merchants who support us. Every time one of their ships sets sail, it disappears. The dwarves cannot give us everything we need, so the Varden are in desperate need of supplies. I'm afraid that we have a traitor, or traitors, in our midst, despite our efforts to examine people's minds for deceit."
Eragon fell silent, and Ajihad allowed it to stretch. "What do you want from me?" Eragon eventually asked.
"How do you mean?"
"I mean, what is expected of me in Tronjheim? You and the elves have plans for me, but what if I don't like them?" A hard tone crept into Eragon's voice. "I'll fight when needed, revel when there's occasion, mourn when there's grief, and die if my time comes... but I won't let anyone use me against me will. The Riders of old were arbiters of justice above and beyond the leaders of their time. I don't claim that position – I doubt people would accept such oversight when they've been free of it all their lives, especially from one as young as me. But I do have power, and I will wield it as I see fit. What I want to know is how you plan to use me. Then I will decide whether to agree to it."
Ajihad looked at him wryly. "If you were anyone else and were before another leader, you would likely have been killed for that insolent speech. What makes you think I will expose my plans just because you demand it?" Eragon flushed but did not lower his gaze.
"Still, you are right. Your position gives you the privilege to say such things. You cannot escape the politics of your situation – you will be influenced, one way or another. I don't want to see you become a pawn of any one group or purpose any more than you do. You must retain your freedom, for in it lies your true power: the ability to make choices independent of any leader or king. My own authority over you will be limited, but I believe it's for the best. The difficulty lies in making sure that those with power include you in their deliberations.
"Also, despite your protests, the people here have certain expectations of you. They are going to bring you their problems, no matter how petty, and demand that you solve them." Ajihad leaned forward, his voice deadly serious. "There will be cases where someone's future will rest in your hands... with a word you can send them careening into happiness or misery. Young women will seek your opinion on whom they should marry – many will pursue you as a husband – and old men will ask which of their children should receive an inheritance. You must be kind and wise with them all, for they put their trust in you. Don't speak flippantly or without thought, because your words will have impact far beyond what you intend."
Ajihad leaned back, his eyes hooded. "The burden of leadership is being responsible for the well-being of the people in your charge. I have dealt with it from the day I was chosen to head the Varden, and now you must as well. Be careful. I won't tolerate injustice under my command. Don't worry about your youth and inexperience; they will pass soon enough."
Eragon looked uncomfortable with the idea of people asking him for advice. "But you still haven't said what I'm to do here."
"For now, nothing. You covered over a hundred and thirty leagues in eight days, a feat to be proud of. I'm sure that you'll appreciate rest. When you've recovered, we will test your competency in arms and magic. After that – well, I will explain your options, and then you'll have to decide your course."
"What of Murtagh and myself?" I asked, leaning forward in my chair. "You have spoken of Saphira and Eragon, both who are more important than me. Still, Eragon is not the only one who covered over a hundred and thirty leagues in eight days."
Ajihad's face darkened, and he reached beneath his desk and lifted up Zar'roc. Ajihad slid his hand over it. "Murtagh will stay here until he allows the Twins into his mind."
"You can't imprison him," Eragon argued before I could speak. "He's committed no crime!"
"We can't give him his freedom without being sure that he won't turn against us. Innocent or not, he's potentially as dangerous to us as his father was," Ajihad replied with a hint of sadness.
"How were you able to recognise his voice?" I asked.
"I met his father once," Ajihad said shortly. He tapped Zar'roc's hilt. "I wish Brom had told me he had taken Morzan's sword. I suggest that you don't carry it within Farthen Dûr. Many here remember Morzan's time with hate, especially the dwarves."
"I'll remember that," Eragon promised.
Ajihad handed Zar'roc over to him. "That reminds me, I have Brom's ring, which he sent as confirmation of his identity. I was keeping it for when he returned to Tronjheim. Now that he's dead, I suppose it belongs to you, Eragon, as the next Rider. I think he would have wanted you to have it," he handed the ring to Eragon.
"I... I am honoured," Eragon murmured.
"Now, Umaroth, you are in an awkward position. Are you willing to join the Varden?" Ajihad asked.
I tilted my head, "I will. I am not overly fond of the Empire."
Ajihad frowned, "I fear the Varden is to blame for that. Your parents were Ajik and Tenma; you had an older brother who went by the name of Mat, correct?"
I nodded, "Yes. However, Mat was killed during a battle before I was born."
Ajihad pulled out Ren from under his desk, and lay it out in front of him. "I've only ever seen one sword like this. It was in the hands of another man, who had gotten it from their father, and so forth. It had been passed down since a Rider had been in that man's family. That man was called Ajik. He married his wife, who had some elven heritage, here, in Farthen Dûr. Your brother, Mat, he was killed in a skirmish between Empire soldiers and a group of Varden warriors. After that, your parents left, but agreed to stay as a contact for us. I was saddened to hear of their death."
"My mother told me of this, when I last saw her," I responded. "I only blame the Empire for their deaths."
Ajihad nodded and handed Ren over to me. "Very well. Do you understand why you are in an awkward position?"
I lifted one shoulder in a shrug. "I arrived with Eragon, and have a certain influence on him. However, I am also not trained as a soldier, and you can't really trust me all that much either. I mean, it doesn't really matter what happens to me."
Ajihad nodded, "I think you understand the basics of your situation. You can travel a few paths from here. You could aim to become a soldier or you could leave the Varden and go help Surda. However, Eragon is a Rider and despite the fact Saphira is capable of protecting him, in battle he will need a guards. You could be one of these guards, and you are used to keeping up with him."
"I think that would be for the best," I replied.
"Alright, you will be able to stick with Eragon then. Will you need a warhorse?"
I shook my head, "My parents had me train my horse as a warhorse. He is the offspring of our two best lines."
Ajihad nodded, then pushed back his chair and stood. He faced Saphira and spoke to her. "Do not think that I have forgotten you, O mighty dragon. I have said these things as much for your benefit as for Eragon's. It is even more important that you know them, for to you falls the task of guarding him in these dangerous times. Do not underestimate your might nor falter at his side, because without you he will surely fail. It is a privilege to meet you."
"Saphira says she is impressed with both Tronjheim and you. The Empire is right to fear you," Eragon said, before grinning wryly. "However, if you had decided to kill me, she would have destroyed Tronjheim and torn you apart with her teeth."
"I would expect nothing less from one so noble – but I doubt you could've gotten past then twins," Ajihad replied.
Saphira snorted. "Then they must be stronger than they appear," Eragon stated. "I think they would be sorely dismayed if they ever faced a dragon's wrath. The two of them might be able to defeat me, but never Saphira."
"A Rider's dragon strengthens his magic beyond what a normal magician might have," I told Ajihad. "Brom was always weaker than Eragon because of that."
Eragon nodded in agreement, "I think that in the absence of Riders, the Twins have overestimated their power."
Ajihad looked troubled. "Brom was considered one of our strongest spell weavers. Only the elves surpassed him. If what you say is true, we will have to reconsider a great many things." He bowed to Saphira. "As it is, I am glad it wasn't necessary to harm any of you."
Ajohad straightened with a lordly air and called, "Orik!" The dwarf hurried into the room and stood before the desk, crossing his arms. Ajihad frowned at him, irritated. "You've caused me a great deal of trouble, Orik. I've had to listen to one of the Twins complain all morning about your insubordination. They won't let it rest until you are punished. Unfortunately, they're right. This is a serious matter and cannot be ignored. An accounting is due."
Orik's eyes flickered towards Saphira, but his face betrayed no emotion. He spoke quickly and in rough tones. "The Kull were almost around the lake. They were shooting arrows at the dragon, Eragon, Umaroth, and Murtagh, but the Twins did nothing to stop it. Like... sheilven they refused to open the gates even though we could see Eragons houting the opening phrase on the other side of the waterfall. And they refused to take action when Eragon did not rise from the water. Perhaps I did wrong, but I couldn't let a Rider die."
"I wasn't strong enough to get out of the water myself," Eragon offered. "I would have drowned if he hadn't pulled me out."
Ajihad glanced at him, then asked Orik seriously, "And later, why did you oppose them?"
Orik raised his chin defiantly, reminding me of Murtagh. "It wasn't right for them to force their way into Murtagh's mind. But I wouldn't have stopped them if I'd known who he was."
"No, you did the right thing, though it would be simpler if you hadn't. It isn't our place to force our way into people's midns, no matter who they are." Ajihad fingered his dense beard. "Your actions were honourable, but you did defy a direct order from your commander. The penalty for that has always been death." Orik's back stiffened.
"You can't kill him for that! He was only helping me," Eragon cried.
I elbowed Eragon, "Shut up," I hissed at him, "It's not our place." Eragon glared at me.
"Umaroth is right Eragon. Orik broke the law and must suffer the consequences. However, you are also right. The sentence will be mitigated because of the circumstances. As of now, Orik, you are removed from active service and forbidden to engage in any military activates under my command. Do you understand?"
Orik's face darkened, but then he only looked confused. He nodded sharply. "Yes."
"Furthermore, in the absence of your regular duties, I appoint you Umaroth, Eragon, and Saphira's guide for the duration of their stay. You are to make sure they receive every comfort and amenity we have to offer. Saphira will stay above Isidar Mithrim. Eragon may have quarters wherever he wants, and Umaroth will stay near Eragon. When they recover from their trip, take them to the training fields. They will be expected," Ajihad said with a twinkle of amusement in his eye.
Orik bowed low. "I understand."
"Very well, you may all go. Send in the Twins as you leave."
Eragon and I bowed. "Where can I find Arya? I would like to see her," Eragon asked.
"No one is allowed to visit her. You will have to wait until she comes to you," Ajihad said, looking down at his desk.
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Firstly, I apologise for not updating earlier. I'm going to try and update on a two-month schedule, but I rely on my calendar to alert me to whenever this comes up since this doesn't occur at the same time as I update everything else. However, I should be able to keep this up now.
Secondly, I haven't actually read through this properly yet so it's unedited. If you spot a typo or an error of some kind, feel free to point it out!
I don't believe I have a third point, so I'll leave it here. Once again, thank you so much--all of you--for sticking with this even with my terrible updating schedule.
SilentSilverSlip/Gabby wishing you the best today