reversed life

11

Chapter 11

Leaving the room, Eragon sighed. Events were developing not as he had hoped they would. Fealty. The word was like a heavy burden to him. Nearly his entire life had been spent living in the Empire. He had desired freedom, but now he was swearing his loyalty to the next leader of the Varden. Even Galbatorix could not make him swear his fealty and yet to give in to these weak council members . . . it made him want to lash out. It was different with Galbatorix.

Eragon stared at Saphira, not knowing where they were going but letting her lead him. How so?

We respect Nasuada and believe she will make a strong leader, and trust her to make the right decisions. If we did not swear our fealty, this organization would be demoralized knowing that a Rider and dragon will not devote themselves to their cause, Saphira explained. And if the Varden should fall or refuse to house us, where would we turn? Galbatorix? No, not after we killed Durza and set the Urgals free from his control. And if he were to find out that you purposely let Arya and Murtagh go free with the last egg . . .

Still . . . Fealty.

You will grow accustomed to it I think. It was a necessary agreement for survival. Even Murtagh will likely be claimed by another power. Hrothgar will not let this pass and with Murtagh left as an independent Rider, he will seek to gain control of him. We are not alone in this. She stopped in front of a large door. Besides, just because you swore fealty does not mean that it binds me as well. If Nasuada's orders place you in danger or I disapprove of them, I will force you from following her orders. Ah, to be forgotten.

He snorted and glanced at the door he had arrived at, realizing that it was the entrance to the library. What are we doing here? Do not tell me you want to read a book.

Arya wishes to speak with us. He frowned, pushing the doors open. The vast room was silent and empty. Allowing Saphira to lead him through the vast bookshelves, he found Arya sitting in an alcove of the room, with her dragon lying on the ground beside her chair. As he took a seat opposite her, Eragon studied the elf. She seemed beyond agitated. Saphira positioned herself between them.

"What have you done?" her hostility was expected, Eragon thought, as he stared at her. His temper was not in the best of states either, after being forced into such a position.

"I did what I had to, is that wrong of me?"

Arya's eyes slanted dangerously, her green eyes flashing. "Wrong? Seven decades I have spent as an ambassador for my people, fifteen of those years I carried Thorn's egg between the Varden and Du Weldenvarden. And throughout that time, I have ensured that the Varden had wise, strong leaders. Your father helped me by forging the agreement of the new Rider—your brother. And Ajihad had wished for you both to remain independent of any group or king. And now I see you siding with the council, willingly or not, to control Nasuada. What have you done?"

His temper flared when she mentioned his father, the way she spoke insulted him to the core. "Do not belittle me! You may have seven decades of experience with politics, but I know how to manage, without you berating me like a child."

He covered his shock as she stood, slamming her hands on the table, her eyes a burning emerald inferno. "You fool! You are in many ways but a child!" His eyes flashed and he too, stood, hands slamming down on the table.

"By your standards only! How can we remain independent? It was clear when the last egg hatched for you, an elf! You are already tied down with your loyalties to your Queen! Everyone could see that. Eventually, Hrothgar will claim Murtagh and Thorn. To establish a position of leadership, Nasuada needed power and with a Rider bound to each race, they can acknowledge each other as equals," he retorted, his temper continuing to flare. "And do you think it pleases me to swear fealty? To give into that accursed council's intent? It is a good thing that Nasuada is an honest person, or I would have refused from the very beginning!" By the end of his rant, he found himself shouting and his hands were gripping the edge of the table with such force it was beginning to crack under the strain.