Paolini, Christopher - Inheritance Trilogy, Book 2 - Eldest (v1.5) (76 page)

me any boon you want and I shall grant it if it’s within my power.”

Elva glanced around the ornate bedroom, then said, “Do you have any

food? I’m hungry.”

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PREMONITION OF WAR

Two hours later, Trianna returned, leading a pair of warriors who car-

ried a limp body between them. At Trianna’s word, the men dropped the

corpse on the floor. Then the sorceress said, “We found the assassin

where Elva said we would. Drail was his name.”

Motivated by a morbid curiosity, Nasuada examined the face of the

man who had tried to kill her. The assassin was short, bearded, and plain-

looking, no different from countless other men in the city. She felt a cer-

tain connection to him, as if his attempt on her life and the fact that she

had arranged his death in return linked them in the most intimate man-

ner possible. “How was he killed?” she asked. “I see no marks on his

body.”

“He committed suicide with magic when we overwhelmed his defenses

and entered his mind, but before we could take control of his actions.”

“Were you able to learn anything of use before he died?”

“We were. Drail was part of a network of agents based here in Surda

who are loyal to Galbatorix. They are called the Black Hand. They spy on

us, sabotage our war efforts, and—best we could determine in our brief

glimpse into Drail’s memories—are responsible for dozens of murders

throughout the Varden. Apparently, they’ve been waiting for a good

chance to kill you ever since we arrived from Farthen Dûr.”

“Why hasn’t this Black Hand assassinated King Orrin yet?”

Trianna shrugged. “I can’t say. It may be that Galbatorix considers you

to be more of a threat than Orrin. If that’s the case, then once the Black

Hand realizes you are protected from their attacks”— here her gaze

darted toward Elva—“Orrin won’t live another month unless he is

guarded by magicians day and night. Or perhaps Galbatorix has abstained

from such direct action because he wanted the Black Hand to remain

unnoticed. Surda has always existed at his tolerance. Now that it’s be-

come a threat. .”

“Can you protect Orrin as well?” asked Nasuada, turning to Elva.

Her violet eyes seemed to glow. “Maybe if he asks nicely.”

Nasuada’s thoughts raced as she considered how to thwart this new

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menace. “Can all of Galbatorix’s agents use magic?”

“Drail’s mind was confused, so it’s hard to tell,” said Trianna, “but I’d

guess a fair number of them can.”

Magic, cursed Nasuada to herself. The greatest danger the Varden faced

from magicians—or any person trained in the use of their mind—was not

assassination, but rather espionage. Magicians could spy on people’s

thoughts and glean information that could be used to destroy the Varden.

That was precisely why Nasuada and the entire command structure of

the Varden had been taught to know when someone was touching their

minds and how to shield themselves from such attentions. Nasuada sus-

pected that Orrin and Hrothgar relied upon similar precautions within

their own governments.

However, since it was impractical for everyone privy to potentially

damaging information to master that skill, one of Du Vrangr Gata’s many

responsibilities was to hunt for anyone who was siphoning off facts as

they appeared in people’s minds. The cost of such vigilance was that Du

Vrangr Gata ended up spying on the Varden as much as on their ene-

mies, a fact that Nasuada made sure to conceal from the bulk of her fol-

lowers, for it would only sow hatred, distrust, and dissent. She disliked

the practice but saw no alternative.

What she had learned about the Black Hand hardened Nasuada’s con-

viction that, somehow, magicians had to be governed.

“Why,” she asked, “didn’t you discover this sooner? I can understand

that you might miss a lone assassin, but an entire network of spellcasters

dedicated to our destruction? Explain yourself, Trianna.”

The sorceress’s eyes flashed with anger at the accusation. “Because here,

unlike in Farthen Dûr, we cannot examine everyone’s minds for duplic-

ity. There are just too many people for us magicians to keep track of.

That is why we didn’t know about the Black Hand until now, Lady

Nasuada.”

Nasuada paused, then inclined her head. “Understood. Did you discover

the identities of any other members of the Black Hand?”

“A few.”

“Good. Use them to ferret out the rest of the agents. I want you to de-

stroy this organization for me, Trianna. Eradicate them as you would an

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infestation of vermin. I’ll give you however many men you need.”

The sorceress bowed. “As you wish, Lady Nasuada.”

At a knock on the door, the guards drew their swords and positioned

themselves on either side of the entranceway, then their captain yanked

open the door without warning. A young page stood outside, a fist raised

to knock again. He stared with astonishment at the body on the floor,

then snapped to attention as the captain asked, “What is it, boy?”

“I have a message for Lady Nasuada from King Orrin.”

“Then speak and be quick about it,” said Nasuada.

The page took a moment to compose himself. “King Orrin requests

that you attend him directly in his council chambers, for he has received

reports from the Empire that demand your immediate attention.”

“Is that all?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“I must attend to this. Trianna, you have your orders. Captain, will you

leave one of your men to dispose of Drail?”

“Aye, Ma’am.”

“Also, please have him locate Farica, my handmaid. She will see to it

that my study is cleaned.”

“And what of me?” asked Elva, tilting her head.

“You,” said Nasuada, “shall accompany me. That is, if you feel strong

enough to do so.”

The girl threw back her head, and from her small, round mouth ema-

nated a cold laugh. “I’m strong enough, Nasuada. Are you?”

Ignoring the question, Nasuada swept forth into the hallway with her

guards clustered around her. The stones of the castle exuded an earthy

smell in the heat. Behind her, she heard the patter of Elva’s footsteps and

was perversely pleased that the ghastly child had to hurry to keep pace

with the adults’ longer stride.

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The guards remained behind in the vestibule to the council chambers

while Nasuada and Elva proceeded inside. The chambers were bare to

the point of severity, reflecting the militant nature of Surda’s existence.

The country’s kings had devoted their resources to protecting their peo-

ple and overthrowing Galbatorix, not to decorating Borromeo Castle

with idle riches as the dwarves had done with Tronjheim.

In the main room lay a rough-hewn table twelve feet long, upon which

a map of Alagaësia was staked open with daggers at the four corners. As

was custom, Orrin sat at the head of the table, while his various advis-

ers—many of whom, Nasuada knew, vehemently opposed her—

occupied the chairs farther down. The Council of Elders was also present.

Nasuada noticed the concern on Jörmundur’s face as he looked at her and

deduced that Trianna had indeed told him about Drail.

“Sire, you asked for me?”

Orrin rose. “That I did. We have now—” He stopped in midword as he

noticed Elva. “Ah, yes, Shining Brow. I have not had the opportunity to

grant you audience before, though accounts of your feats have reached

my ear and, I must confess, I have been most curious to meet you. Have

you found the quarters I arranged for you satisfactory?”

“They are quite nice, Sire. Thank you.” At the sound of her eerie voice,

the voice of an adult, everyone at the table flinched.

Irwin, the prime minister, bolted upright and pointed a quivering finger

at Elva. “Why have you brought this. . this abomination here?”

“You forget your manners, sir,” replied Nasuada, though she understood

his sentiment.

Orrin frowned. “Yes, do restrain yourself, Irwin. However, his point is

valid, Nasuada; we cannot have this child present at our deliberations.”

“The Empire,” she said, “has just tried to assassinate me.” The room

echoed with cries of surprise. “If it were not for Elva’s swift action, I

would be dead. As a result, I have taken her into my confidence; where I

go, she goes.” Let them wonder what it is exactly Elva can do.

“This is indeed distressing news!” exclaimed the king. “Have you caught

the blackguard responsible?”

Seeing the eager expressions of his advisers, Nasuada hesitated. “It

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would be best to wait until I can give you an account in private, Sire.”

Orrin appeared put out by her response, but he did not pursue the is-

sue. “Very well. But sit, sit! We have just received the most troubling re-

port.” After Nasuada took her place opposite him—Elva lurking behind

her—he continued: “It seems that our spies in Gil’ead have been deceived

as to the status of Galbatorix’s army.”

“How so?”

“They believe the army to be in Gil’ead, whereas we have here a mis-

sive from one of our men in Urû’baen, who says that he witnessed a great

host march south past the capital a week and a half ago. It was night, so

he could not be sure of their numbers, but he was certain that the host

was far larger than the sixteen thousand that form the core of Galba-

torix’s troops. There may have been as many as a hundred thousand sol-

diers, or more.”

A hundred thousand! A cold pit of fear settled in Nasuada’s stomach.

“Can we trust your source?”

“His intelligence has always been reliable.”

“I don’t understand,” said Nasuada. “How could Galbatorix move that

many men without our knowing of it before? The supply trains alone

would be miles long. It’s been obvious the army was mobilizing, but the

Empire was nowhere near ready to deploy.”

Falberd spoke then, slapping a heavy hand on the table for emphasis:

“We were outfoxed. Our spies must have been deceived with magic to

think the army was still in their barracks in Gil’ead.”

Nasuada felt the blood drain from her face. “The only person strong

enough to sustain an illusion of that size and duration—”

“Is Galbatorix himself,” completed Orrin. “That was our conclusion. It

means that Galbatorix has finally abandoned his lair in favor of open

combat. Even as we speak, the black foe approaches.”

Irwin leaned forward. “The question now is how we should respond.

We must confront this threat, of course, but in what manner? Where,

when, and how? Our own forces aren’t prepared for a campaign of this

magnitude, while yours, Lady Nasuada—the Varden—are already accus-

tomed to the fierce clamor of war.”

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“What do you mean to imply?” That we should die for you?

“I but made an observation. Take it how you will.”

Then Orrin said, “Alone, we will be crushed against an army so large.

We must have allies, and above all else we must have Eragon, especially

if we are to confront Galbatorix. Nasuada, will you send for him?”

“I would if I could, but until Arya returns, I have no way to contact the

elves or to summon Eragon.”

“In that case,” said Orrin in a heavy voice, “we must hope that she ar-

rives before it is too late. I do not suppose we can expect the elves’ assis-

tance in this affair. While a dragon may traverse the leagues between

Aberon and Ellesméra with the speed of a falcon, it would be impossible

for the elves to marshal themselves and cross that same distance before

the Empire reaches us. That leaves only the dwarves. I know that you

have been friends with Hrothgar for many years; will you send him a plea

for help on our behalf? The dwarves have always promised they would

fight when the time came.”

Nasuada nodded. “Du Vrangr Gata has an arrangement with certain

dwarf magicians that allows us to transfer messages instantaneously. I will

convey your—our—request. And I will ask Hrothgar to send an emissary

to Ceris to inform the elves of the situation so that they are forewarned,

if nothing else.”

“Good. We are quite a ways from Farthen Dûr, but if we can delay the

Empire for even a week, the dwarves might be able to get here in time.”

The discussion that followed was an exceedingly grim one. Various tac-

tics existed for defeating a larger—although not necessarily superior—

force, but no one at the table could imagine how they might defeat Gal-

batorix, especially when Eragon was still so powerless compared to the

ancient king. The only ploy that might succeed would be to surround Er-

agon with as many magicians, dwarf and human, as possible, and then at-

tempt to force Galbatorix to confront them alone. The problem with that

plan, thought Nasuada, is that Galbatorix overcame far more formidable

enemies during his destruction of the Riders, and his strength has only

grown since. She was certain that this had occurred to everyone else as

well. If we but had the elves’ spellweavers to swell our ranks, then victory

might be within our reach. Without them... If we cannot overthrow Galba-

torix, the only avenue left may be to flee Alagaësia across the sundering sea

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