Paolini, Christopher - Inheritance Trilogy, Book 2 - Eldest (v1.5) (28 page)

Katrina leaned against Roran, and he put an arm around her. Together

they clung to each other as people crowded against them offering condo-

lences, advice, congratulations, and disapproval. Despite the commotion,

Roran was aware of nothing but the woman whom he held, and who

held him.

Just then, Elain bustled up as fast as her pregnancy would allow. “Oh,

you poor dear!” she cried, and embraced Katrina, drawing her from Ro-

ran’s arms. “Is it true you are engaged?” Katrina nodded and smiled, then

erupted into hysterical tears against Elain’s shoulder. “There now, there

now.” Elain cradled Katrina gently, petting her and trying to soothe her,

but without avail—every time Roran thought she was about to recover,

Katrina began to cry with renewed intensity. Finally, Elain peered over

Katrina’s quaking shoulder and said, “I’m taking her back to the house.”

“I’ll come.”

“No, you won’t,” retorted Elain. “She needs time to calm down, and you

have work to do. Do you want my advice?” Roran nodded dumbly. “Stay

away until evening. I guarantee that she will be as right as rain by then.

She can join the others tomorrow.” Without waiting for his response,

Elain escorted the sobbing Katrina away from the wall of sharpened trees.

Roran stood with his hands hanging limply by his sides, feeling dazed

and helpless. What have we done? He regretted that he had not revealed

their engagement to Sloan sooner. He regretted that he and Sloan could

not work together to shield Katrina from the Empire. And he regretted

that Katrina had been forced to relinquish her only family for him. He

was now doubly responsible for her welfare. They had no choice but to

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get married. I’ve made a terrible mess of this. He sighed and clenched his

fist, wincing as his bruised knuckles stretched.

“How are you?” asked Baldor, coming alongside him.

Roran forced a smile. “It didn’t turn out quite how I hoped. Sloan’s be-

yond reason when it comes to the Spine.”

“And Katrina.”

“That too. I—” Roran fell silent as Loring stopped before them.

“That was a blasted fool thing to do!” growled the shoemaker, wrinkling

his nose. Then he stuck out his chin, grinned, and bared his stumps of

teeth. “But I ’ope you and the girl have the best of luck.” He shook his

head. “Heh, you’re going to need it, Stronghammer!”

“We’re all going to need it,” snapped Thane as he walked past.

Loring waved a hand. “Bah, sourpuss. Listen, Roran; I’ve lived in Carva-

hall for many, many years, and in my experience, it’s better that this hap-

pened now, instead of when we’re all warm and cozy.”

Baldor nodded, but Roran asked, “Why so?”

“Isn’t it obvious? Normally, you and Katrina would be the meat of gos-

sip for the next nine months.” Loring put a finger on the side of his nose.

“Ah, but this way, you’ll soon be forgotten amid everything else that’s go-

ing on, and then the two of you might even have some peace.”

Roran frowned. “I’d rather be talked about than have those desecrators

camped on the road.”

“So would we all. Still, it’s something to be grateful for, and we all need

something to be grateful for—’specially once you’re married!” Loring

cackled and pointed at Roran. “Your face just turned purple, boy!”

Roran grunted and set about gathering Katrina’s possessions off the

ground. As he did, he was interrupted by comments from whoever hap-

pened to be nearby, none of which helped to settle his nerves. “Rotgut,”

he muttered to himself after a particularly invidious remark.

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Although the expedition into the Spine was delayed by the unusual

scene the villagers had just witnessed, it was only slightly after midmorn-

ing when the caravan of people and donkeys began to ascend the bare

trail scratched into the side of Narnmor Mountain to the crest of the

Igualda Falls. It was a steep climb and had to be taken slowly, on account

of the children and the size of the burdens everyone carried.

Roran spent most of his time caught behind Calitha—Thane’s wife—

and her five children. He did not mind, as it gave him an opportunity to

indulge his injured calf and to consider recent events at length. He was

disturbed by his confrontation with Sloan. At least, he consoled himself,

Katrina won’t remain in Carvahall much longer. For Roran was convinced,

in his heart of hearts, that the village would soon be defeated. It was a

sobering, yet unavoidable, realization.

He paused to rest three-quarters of the way up the mountain and

leaned against a tree as he admired the elevated view of Palancar Valley.

He tried to spot the Ra’zac’s camp—which he knew was just to the left

of the Anora River and the road south—but was unable to discern even a

wisp of smoke.

Roran heard the roar of the Igualda Falls long before they came into

sight. The falls appeared for all the world like a great snowy mane that

billowed and drifted off Narnmor’s craggy head to the valley floor a half

mile below. The massive stream curved in several directions as it fell, the

result of different layers of wind.

Past the slate ledge where the Anora River became airborne, down a

glen filled with thimbleberries, and then finally into a large clearing

guarded on one side by a pile of boulders, Roran found that those at the

head of the procession had already begun setting up camp. The forest

rang with the children’s shouts and cries.

Removing his pack, Roran untied an ax from the top, then set about

clearing the underbrush from the site along with several other men.

When they finished, they began chopping down enough trees to encircle

the camp. The aroma of pine sap filled the air. Roran worked quickly, the

wood chips flying in unison with his rhythmic swings.

By the time the fortifications were complete, the camp had already

been erected with seventeen wool tents, four small cookfires, and glum

expressions from people and donkeys alike. No one wanted to leave, and

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no one wanted to stay.

Roran surveyed the assortment of boys and old men clutching spears,

and thought, Too much experience and too little. The grandfathers know

how to deal with bears and the like, but will the grandsons have the

strength to actually do it? Then he noticed the hard glint in the women’s

eyes and realized that while they might hold a babe or be busy tending a

scraped arm, their own shields and spears were never far from reach. Ro-

ran smiled. Perhaps... perhaps we still have hope.

He saw Nolfavrell sitting alone on a log—staring back toward Palancar

Valley—and joined the boy, who looked at him seriously. “Are you leav-

ing soon?” asked Nolfavrell. Roran nodded, impressed by his poise and

determination. “You will do your best, won’t you, to kill the Ra’zac and

avenge my father? I would do it, except that Mama says I must guard my

brothers and sisters.”

“I’ll bring you their heads myself, if I can,” promised Roran.

The boy’s chin trembled. “That is good!”

“Nolfavrell. .” Roran paused as he searched for the right words. “You are

the only one here, besides me, who has killed a man. It doesn’t mean that

we are better or worse than anyone else, but it means that I can trust you

to fight well if you are attacked. When Katrina comes here tomorrow,

will you make sure that she’s well protected?”

Nolfavrell’s chest swelled with pride. “I’ll guard her wherever she goes!”

Then he looked regretful. “That is. . when I don’t have to look after—”

Roran understood. “Oh, your family comes first. But maybe Katrina can

stay in the tent with your brothers and sisters.”

“Yes,” said Nolfavrell slowly. “Yes, I think that would work. You can

rely on me.”

“Thank you.” Roran clapped him on the shoulder. He could have asked

an older and more capable person, but the adults were too busy with

their own responsibilities to defend Katrina as he hoped. Nolfavrell,

however, would have the opportunity and inclination to assure that she

remained safe. He can hold my place while we are apart. Roran stood as

Birgit approached.

Eyeing him flatly, she said, “Come, it is time.” Then she hugged her son

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and continued toward the falls with Roran and the other villagers who

were returning to Carvahall. Behind them, everyone in the small camp

clustered against the felled trees and stared forlornly out through their

wooden bars.

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HIS ENEMY’S FACE

As Roran proceeded about his work throughout the rest of the day, he

felt Carvahall’s emptiness deep inside. It was as if part of himself had

been extracted and hidden in the Spine. And with the children gone, the

village now felt like an armed camp. The change seemed to have made

everyone grim and grave.

When the sun finally sank into the waiting teeth of the Spine, Roran

climbed the hill to Horst’s house. He stopped before the front door and

placed a hand on the knob, but remained there, unable to enter. Why

does this frighten me as much as fighting?

In the end, he forsook the front door entirely and went to the side of

the house, where he slipped into the kitchen and, to his dismay, saw

Elain knitting on one side of the table, speaking to Katrina, who was op-

posite her. They both turned toward him, and Roran blurted, “Are. . are

you all right?”

Katrina came to his side. “I’m fine.” She smiled softly. “It just was a ter-

rible shock when Father. . when. .” She ducked her head for a moment.

“Elain has been wonderfully kind to me. She agreed to lend me Baldor’s

room for the night.”

“I’m glad you are better,” said Roran. He hugged her, trying to convey

all of his love and adoration through that simple touch.

Elain wrapped up her knitting. “Come now. The sun has set, and it’s

time you were off to bed, Katrina.”

Roran reluctantly let go of Katrina, who kissed him on the cheek and

said, “I’ll see you in the morning.”

He started to follow her out, but stopped when Elain said with a

barbed tone, “Roran.” Her delicate face was hard and stern.

“Yes?”

Elain waited until they heard the creak of stairs that indicated Katrina

was out of earshot. “I hope that you meant every promise you gave that

girl, because if you didn’t, I’ll call an assembly and have you exiled within

a week.”

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Roran was dumbfounded. “Of course I meant them. I love her.”

“Katrina just surrendered everything she owned or cared about for you.”

Elain stared up at him with unwavering eyes. “I’ve seen men who throw

their affection at young maids, like grain tossed at chickens. The maids

sigh and weep and believe that they are special, yet for the man, it’s only

a trifling amusement. You have always been honorable, Roran, but one’s

loins can turn even the most sensible person into a prancing booby or a

sly, wicked fox. Are you one? For Katrina requires neither a fool, a trick-

ster, nor even love; what she requires above all else is a man who will

provide for her. If you abandon her, she will be the meanest person in

Carvahall, forced to live off her friends, our first and only beggar. By the

blood in my veins, I won’t let that happen.”

“Nor would I,” protested Roran. “I would have to be heartless, or worse,

to do so.”

Elain jerked her chin. “Exactly. Don’t forget that you intend to marry a

woman who has lost both her dowry and her mother’s inheritance. Do

you understand what it means for Katrina to lose her inheritance? She has

no silver, no linens, no lace, nor any of the things needed for a well-run

home. Such items are all we own, passed from mother to daughter since

the day we first settled Alagaësia. They determine our worth. A woman

without her inheritance is like. . is like—”

“Is like a man without a farm or a trade,” said Roran.

“Just so. It was cruel of Sloan to deny Katrina her inheritance, but that

can’t be helped now. Both you and she have no money or resources. Life

is difficult enough without that added hardship. You’ll be starting from

nothing and with nothing. Does the prospect frighten you or seem un-

bearable? So I ask you once again—and don’t lie or the two of you will

regret it for the rest of your lives—will you care for her without grudge

or resentment?”

“Yes.”

Elain sighed and filled two earthen cups with cider from a jug hanging

among the rafters. She handed one to Roran as she seated herself back at

the table. “Then I suggest that you devote yourself to replacing Katrina’s

home and inheritance so that she and any daughters you may have can

stand without shame among the wives of Carvahall.”

Roran sipped the cool cider. “If we live that long.”

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“Aye.” She brushed back a strand of her blond hair and shook her head.

“You’ve chosen a hard path, Roran.”

“I had to make sure that Katrina would leave Carvahall.”

Elain lifted an eyebrow. “So that was it. Well, I won’t argue about it,

but why on earth didn’t you speak to Sloan about your engagement be-

fore this morning? When Horst asked my father, he gave our family

twelve sheep, a sow, and eight pairs of wrought-iron candlesticks before