Chapter 10. 2 Fickle loyalty

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Eragon watched as the formation of men and dwarves started walking towards the large city-mountain, marching proudly and victoriously after their hours in the tunnel. He felt relieved that at least they were alright; it had taken Saphira more than an hour to properly calm him down after he had seen so much carnage, death and destruction at the battlefield. He had thought that seeing the corpse of his dead uncle would have prepared him to see other dead bodies, but he couldn't have been farther from the truth. As such, seeing Ajihad being alright filled him with warmth and relief. The man was a likeable person and a good leader.

Before they went more than five yards, the tunnel behind them became a flurry of activity and more figures were moving out of it. He squinted, unable to see them from so far away.

Nest to him, the monstrous rider exploded into movement and sprinted towards the tunnel, sending shards of rock and gravel everywhere. Before Eragon could understand why, Saphira's body tensed like a drawn bowstring and exclaimed: 'Those are urgals!'

He didn't question her for a second and immediately understood that the rider who called himself 'Spartan' must have somehow seen that. "Urgals!" he cried and leaped onto Saphira, his progress being severely hindered by his painful back. The scar had plagued him once more; lances of pain would suddenly shoot into his back, as if every single muscle cramped up.

He cursed himself for leaving Zar'roc in his room. Why? Of all times to leave his sword into his room, he had done it now? Why was he so stupid! Was it because nobody would have expected the urgals to launch another attack?

Spartan had carried his weaponry with him...

His wounds burned as Saphira lifted her azure wings, then drove them down and jumped forwards. The dragon that was named 'Aeraleth' moved almost synchronous with Saphira, but because his dragon was smaller, the black one was able to take off faster. But Saphira gained speed with every second and below him, Arya ran towards the tunnel too, following Spartan. Her black hair was trailing after her body and she was nearly keeping pace with Saphira. Orik trailed her with several men and Jörmundur ran back to the barracks, but they were so slow...too slow.

Ergon was forced to watch helplessly as the urgals fell on the rear of Ajihad's warriors; he could not work magic over such a distance. The monsters had the advantage of surprise and quickly cut down four men, forcing the rest of the warriors, men and dwarves alike, to cluster around Ajihad in an attempt to protect him. Murtagh and the twins were there with the Varden's leader; Twins because they were powerful magicians and Murtagh because he wanted to proof that he wasn't like his father, who had died being Galbatorix' most loyal subject and betrayer of the order of riders.

Swords and axes clashed as the groups pressed together and simultaneously, explosions sounded from Spartan as he used his lethal crossbow-like weapon. The gray-armoured youth was doing the impossible; running faster than Arya, running faster than both dragons and actually killing the enemy from such a great distance while sprinting faster than humanly possible. He wasn't an elf, because Aeraleth had told Saphira that he was a human.

Light flashed from one of the Twins and an urgal fell, clutching the stump of his severed arm. For some nerve-wracking but hopeful seconds, it seemed as if the group would defeat the monstrosities and that Spartan would reach them in time. But then a swirl of motion blurred the air, like a faint band of mist wrapping itself around the combatants. When it had cleared, only eight warriors were standing: Murtagh, Ajihad, the Twins and several others. The urgals converged on them too, blocking Eragon's view as he watched with horror and pain that the two people he had come to care for like that would die in such a way.

'No!' He thought desperately, even as Spartan unslung another weapon and even more explosions came from his side. 'No no no no!'

Before Saphira could touch down, most of the urgals streamed back into the tunnel, leaving only a wounded and bleeding Ajihad behind. More of his men had died and the ones that had survived, were helping the dark-skinned man to get back to his feet.

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