Christopher Paolini - Inheritance

“I have to. You know it as well as I do; you just don’t want to admit it.”

Roran struck his fist against the table between them and then strode over to the open window, the muscles in his jaw clenching.

The baby squalled, and Katrina said, “Shh, now,” and patted her on the back.

Eragon joined Roran. “I know it isn’t what you want. I don’t want it either, but I have no choice.”

“Of course you have a choice. You of all people have a choice.”

“Aye, and this is the right thing to do.”

Roran grunted and crossed his arms.

Behind them, Katrina said, “If you leave, you won’t be able to be an uncle to Ismira. Is she supposed to grow up without ever knowing you?”

“No,” said Eragon, going back to her. “I’ll still be able to talk with her, and I’ll see to it that she’s well protected; I may even be able to send her presents from time to time.” He knelt and held out a finger, and the girl wrapped a hand around it and tugged with precocious strength.

“But you won’t be here.”

“No … I won’t be here.” Eragon gently extricated his finger from Ismira’s grip and returned to stand by Roran. “As I said, you could join me.”

The muscles in Roran’s jaw shifted. “And give up Palancar Valley?” He shook his head. “Horst and the others are already preparing to return. We’ll rebuild Carvahall as the finest town in the whole Spine. You could help; it would be like before.”

“I wish I could.”

Below, Saphira uttered a throaty gurgle and nuzzled the side of Firnen’s neck. The green dragon snuggled closer to her.

In a low voice, Roran said, “Is there no other way, Eragon?”

“Not that Saphira or I can think of.”

“Blast it-it’s not right. You shouldn’t have to go live by yourself in the wilderness.”

“I won’t be entirely alone. Blodhgarm and a few other elves will be going with us.”

Roran made an impatient gesture. “You know what I mean.” He gnawed on the corner of his mustache and leaned on his hands against the stone lip underneath the window. Eragon could see the sinews in his thick forearms knotting and flexing. Then Roran looked at him and said, “What will you do once you get to wherever you’re going?”

“Find a hill or a cliff and build a hall atop it: a hall large enough to house all the dragons and keep them safe. And you? Once you rebuild the village, what then?”

A faint smile appeared on Roran’s face. “Something similar. With the tribute from the valley, I plan to build a castle atop that hill we always talked about. Not a big castle, mind you; just a bit of stonework with a wall, enough to hold off any Urgals who might decide to attack. It’ll probably take a few years, but then we’ll have a proper way to defend ourselves, unlike when the Ra’zac came with the soldiers.” He cast a sideways glance at Eragon. “We’d have room for a dragon as well.”

“Would you have room for two dragons?” Eragon gestured toward Saphira and Firnen.

“Maybe not.… How does Saphira feel about having to leave him?”

“She doesn’t like it, but she knows it’s necessary.”

“Mmh.”

The amber light from the dying sun accentuated the planes of Roran’s face; somewhat to Eragon’s surprise, he saw the beginnings of lines and wrinkles on his cousin’s brow and around his eyes. He found the signs of encroaching age sobering. How quickly life passes .

Katrina laid Ismira in a cradle. Then she joined them at the window and placed a hand on Eragon’s shoulder. “We’ll miss you, Eragon.”

“And I you,” he said, and touched her hand. “We don’t have to say goodbye quite yet, though. I’d like the three of you to come with us to Ellesmera. You would enjoy seeing it, I think, and that way we could spend another few days together.”

Roran swiveled his head toward Eragon. “We can’t travel all the way to Du Weldenvarden with Ismira. She’s too young. Returning to Palancar Valley is going to be difficult enough; a side trip to Ellesmera is out of the question.”

“Not even if it was on dragonback?” Eragon laughed at their surprised expressions. “Arya and Firnen have agreed to carry you to Ellesmera while Saphira and I fetch the dragon eggs from where they’re hidden.”

“How long would the flight to Ellesmera take?” asked Roran, frowning.

“A week or so. Arya intends to visit King Orik in Tronjheim on the way. You would be warm and safe the whole while. Ismira wouldn’t be in any danger.”

Katrina looked at Roran, and he at her, and she said, “It would be nice to see Eragon off, and I’ve always heard tell of how beautiful the elves’ cities are.…”

“Are you sure you would be up to it?” asked Roran.

She nodded. “As long as you’re there with us.”

Roran was silent for a moment; then he said, “Well, I suppose Horst and the others can go on ahead without us.” A smile appeared under his beard, and he chuckled. “I never thought to see the Beor Mountains or to stand in one of the elves’ cities, but why not, eh? We might as well while we have the chance.”

“Good, that’s settled, then,” said Katrina, beaming. “We’re going to Du Weldenvarden.”

“How will we get back?” asked Roran.

“On Firnen,” said Eragon. “Or I’m sure Arya would give you guards to escort you to Palancar Valley, if you would prefer to travel by horse.”

Roran grimaced. “No, not by horse. If I never have to ride another horse in my life, it would be too soon by half.”

“Oh? Then I take it you don’t want Snowfire anymore?” said Eragon, raising an eyebrow as he named the stallion he had given Roran.

“You know what I mean. I’m glad to have Snowfire, even if I haven’t had need of him for a while.”

“Mm-hmm.”

They stood by the window for another hour or so-as the sun set and the sky turned purple and then black and the stars came out-planning their upcoming trip and discussing the things Eragon and Saphira would need to take with them when they left Du Weldenvarden for the lands beyond. Behind them, Ismira slept peacefully in her cradle, her hands balled up in tiny fists beneath her chin.

Early the next morning, Eragon used the polished silver mirror in his room to contact Orik in Tronjheim. He had to wait for a few minutes, but eventually Orik’s face appeared before him, the dwarf running an ivory comb through his unbraided beard.

“Eragon!” Orik exclaimed with obvious delight. “How are you? It’s been too long since last we spoke.”

Feeling a bit guilty, Eragon agreed. Then he told Orik of his decision to leave and the reasons why. Orik stopped combing and listened without interrupting, his expression serious throughout. When Eragon finished, Orik said, “I will be sad to see you go, but I agree, this is what you must do. I have thought about this myself-worried about where the dragons might live-but I kept my concerns to myself, for the dragons have as much right to share the land as we do, even if we do not like it when they eat our Feldunost and burn our villages. However, raising them elsewhere will be for the best.”

“I am glad you approve,” said Eragon. He talked to Orik about his idea for the Urgals, then, which involved the dwarves as well. This time Orik asked many questions, and Eragon could see that he was doubtful about the proposal.

After a long silence wherein Orik stared down into his beard, the dwarf said, “If you had asked this of any of the grimstnzborithn before me, they would have said no. Had you asked me at any time before we invaded the Empire, I would also have said no. But now, after having fought alongside the Urgals, and after having seen in person how helpless we were before Murtagh and Thorn and Galbatorix and that monster Shruikan … now I no longer feel the same.” He gazed up through his bushy eyebrows at Eragon. “It may cost me mine crown, but on behalf of knurlan everywhere I will accept-for their own good, whether or not they realize it.”