“Mmm.” Examining the pattern of colors on a dried mushroom that dangled before him, Eragon asked, “Did you ever figure out if toads exist or not?”
“As a matter of fact, I did! It seems that all toads are frogs, but not all frogs are toads. So in that sense, toads don’t really exist, which means that I was right all along.” She stopped her patter abruptly, leaned to the side, grabbed a mug from a bench next to her, and offered it to Eragon. “Here, have a cup of tea.”
Eragon glanced at the deadly plants surrounding them and then back at Angela’s open face before he accepted the mug. Under his breath — so the herbalist would not hear — he muttered three spells to detect poison. Only once he ascertained that the tea was free of contamination did he dare drink. The tea was delicious, though he could not identify the ingredients.
At that moment, Solembum padded over to Saphira and began to arch his back and rub himself up against her leg, just as any normal cat would. Twisting her neck, Saphira bent down and with the tip of her nose brushed the werecat the length of his spine. She said, I met someone in Ellesméra who knows you.
Solembum stopped rubbing and cocked his head. Is that so?
Yes. Her name was Quickpaw and The Dream Dancer and also Maud.
Solembum’s golden eyes widened. A deep, throaty purr rumbled in his chest, and he rubbed against Saphira with renewed vigor.
“So,” said Angela, “I assume you already spoke with Nasuada, Arya, and King Orrin.” He nodded. “And what did you think of dear old Orrin?”
Eragon chose his words with care, for he was aware that they were talking about a king. “Well... he seems to have a great many interests.”
“Yes, he’s as balmy as a moonstruck fool on Midsummer Night Eve. But then everyone is, in one way or another.”
Amused by her forthrightness, Eragon said, “He must be crazy to have carted so much glass all the way from Aberon.”
Angela raised an eyebrow. “What’s this now?”
“Haven’t you seen the inside of his tent?”
“Unlike some people,” she sniffed, “I don’t ingratiate myself with every monarch I meet.” So he described for her the mass of instruments Orrin had brought to the Burning Plains. Angela abandoned her stirring as he spoke and listened with great interest. The instant he finished, she began bustling around the cauldron, gathering the plants off the lines — often using tongs to do so — and saying, “I think I had best pay Orrin a visit. The two of you will have to tell me about your trip to Ellesméra at a later time... Well, go on, both of you. Be gone!”
Eragon shook his head as the short little woman drove him and Saphira away from her tent, and he still holding the cup of tea. Talking with her is always...
Different? suggested Saphira.
Exactly.
THE CLOUDS OF WAR
From there it took them almost half an hour to locate Trianna’s tent, which apparently served as the unofficial headquarters of Du Vrangr Gata. They had difficulty finding the tent because few people knew of its existence, and even fewer could tell them where it lay because the tent was hidden behind a spur of rock that served to conceal it from the gaze of enemy magicians in Galbatorix’s army.
As Eragon and Saphira approached the black tent, the entrance was thrust open and Trianna strode out, her arms bare to the elbow in preparation to use magic. Behind her clustered a group of determined if frightened-looking spellcasters, many of whom Eragon had seen during the battle in Farthen Dûr, either fighting or healing the wounded.
Eragon watched as Trianna and the others reacted with the now-expected surprise at his altered appearance. Lowering her arms, Trianna said, “Shadeslayer, Saphira. You should have told us sooner that you were here. We’ve been preparing to confront and battle what we thought was a mighty foe.”
“I didn’t mean to upset you,” said Eragon, “but we had to report to Nasuada and King Orrin immediately after we landed.”
“And why have you graced us with your presence now? You never deigned to visit us before, we who are more your brethren than any in the Varden.”
“I have come to take command of Du Vrangr Gata.” The assembled spellcasters muttered with surprise at his announcement, and Trianna stiffened. Eragon felt several magicians probe his consciousness in an attempt to divine his true intentions. Instead of guarding himself — which would blind him to impending attacks — Eragon retaliated by jabbing the minds of the would-be invaders hard enough that they retreated behind their own barriers. As he did, Eragon had the satisfaction of seeing two men and a woman flinch and avert their gazes.
“By whose order?” demanded Trianna.
“By Nasuada’s.”
“Ah,” said the sorceress with a triumphant smile, “but Nasuada has no direct authority over us. We help the Varden of our own free will.”
Her resistance puzzled Eragon. “I’m sure Nasuada would be surprised to hear that, after everything she, and her father, have done for Du Vrangr Gata. It might give her the impression that you no longer wanted the support and protection of the Varden.” He let the threat hang in the air for a moment. “Besides, I seem to remember you were willing to give me this post before. Why not now?”
Trianna lifted an eyebrow. “You refused my offer, Shadeslayer... or have you forgotten?” Composed as she was, a trace of defensiveness colored her response, and Eragon suspected she knew her position was untenable. She seemed more mature to him than when they last met, and he had to remind himself of the hardships she must have endured since: marching across Alagaësia to Surda, supervising the magicians of Du Vrangr Gata, and preparing for war.
“We could not accept then. It was the wrong time.”
Abruptly changing tack, she asked, “Why does Nasuada believe you should command us anyway? Surely you and Saphira would be more useful elsewhere.”
“Nasuada wants me to lead you, Du Vrangr Gata, in the coming battle, and so I shall.” Eragon thought it best not to mention that it was his idea.
A dark scowl gave Trianna a fierce appearance. She pointed at the cluster of spellcasters behind her. “We have devoted our lives to the study of our art. You have been casting spells for less than two years. What makes you more qualified for this task than any of us?... No matter. Tell me: What is your strategy? How do you plan to employ us?”
“My plan is simple,” he said. “The lot of you will join minds and search for enemy spellcasters. When you find one, I’ll add my strength to yours, and together we can crush the spellcaster’s resistance. Then we can slay the troops that previously were protected by his or her wards.”
“And what will you be doing the rest of the time?”
“Fighting alongside Saphira.”
After an awkward silence, one of the men behind Trianna said, “It’s a good plan.” He quailed as Trianna cast an angry glare at him.
She slowly faced Eragon again. “Ever since the Twins died, I have led Du Vrangr Gata. Under my guidance, they have provided the means to fund the Varden’s war effort, ferreted out the Black Hand — Galbatorix’s network of spies that tried to assassinate Nasuada — as well as performing innumerable other services. I do not boast when I say these are no mean accomplishments. And I’m certain I can continue to produce such results... Why, then, does Nasuada want to depose me? How have I displeased her?”
Everything became clear to Eragon, then. She has grown accustomed to power and doesn’t want to surrender it. But more than that, she thinks that my replacing her is a criticism of her leadership.
You need to resolve this debate, and quickly too, said Saphira. Our time grows short.