Dagny: An Inheritance Cycle Fanfiction.

12. The Missing Rider

Final Word Count: 2396 words.

Hey everyone! Thanks so much for all the votes and comments, as usual! :) I've noticed, there seem to be a lot of new readers lately. Would you guys mind telling me. (In the comments or PM me) how you found the story? I'm just curious.
Next chapter is Dagny POV again. I know you're probably wondering what happened to her, so I won't keep you in suspense for too much longer. It's all written, I'll put it up once this one has a few reads.

Green fields blurred into darker green forests beneath them, the distant soot-black specks of towns and villages obscure in his vision. In Láine's, the merest details stood out in stark clarity, but their colours were lost. The furrowed fields, narrow, winding roads, and small hamlets huddled near to the earth were all painted in icy shades of white and white-grey.

The vast army marching in sweeping lines along the horizon was visible to both of them.

I can't see Jasem, Láine said, unnecessarily.

He would hardly march on the front lines, Arne responded. That doesn't means he isn't with them.

He was certain, in fact, that the Surdan King was somewhere in the mass of soldiers, probably hidden from the eyes of any scouts. Jasem intended to make his play for the throne. His army served as both an intimidation tactic and an insurance policy. Any of the human nobles who had not yet made their loyalties clear - and even those who had - could be cowed into siding with him through this brute display of force. To Arne's intense frustration, and despite his myriad efforts to reassure the nobility, the plot was already working well. And on the off chance it didn't work well enough, and Tornac or another candidate won the throne, Jasem would still have a massive army camped at the gates of Illirea. He probably, Arne thought bitterly, believed the crown was his already.

He had shored up the defences at Illirea the instant Jasem issued his proclamation, put every dragon and Rider in the city on alert and contacted both Lord Eragon and Queen Arya. They had each in turn reassured him that they were making for the capital with all haste, and the queen had promised to bring an army of her own with her. He wasn't sure that was the best plan - if the political situation in the Broddring Kingdom was a barrel of lantern oil, a foreign army would be a lit match - but he knew without a shadow of doubt that he didn't have enough Riders in Illirea to hold the city. Added to that, the loyalties of Nasuada's men could not be counted on. The capital was woefully undermanned.

Jasem had acted just as they all had expected him to, but he had acted far faster than anyone could have anticipated. The queen wasn't even dead yet - a fact everyone seemed to have conveniently forgotten - and the Surdan army was encroaching on Broddring soil. Little as he wanted to give Jasem credit for anything, Arne had to admit his swiftness was impressive. The King had imposed a state of war on Alagaesia in a matter of hours, with no immediate warning. The Riders had been caught unprepared. Eragon was still on the other side of the ocean.

Arne scanned the approaching army, through both his own and Láine's far superior eyes.

How many, would you say? He asked her.

Something between twenty and thirty thousand, she answered promptly, aggravation and worry bleeding through in her mind.

He let his eyes rest on the inexorable lines of men for a minute.

We had better hope it's twenty, he said finally.

She twisted in the sky, turning back towards Illirea. It shone brilliantly white through her eyes, bright as a beacon.

Could we hold against twenty thousand? She asked bluntly. Láine was never one to sugarcoat things. He appreciated that more when circumstances were less bleak.