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Falberd heaved himself up, planting his meaty hands on the table. “The five of us have already decided whom to support. There is no doubt among us that it is the right person. But,” he raised a thick finger, “before we reveal who it is, you must give us your word of honor that whether you agree or disagree with us, nothing of our discussion will leave this room.”

Why would they want that? Eragon asked Saphira.

I don’t know, she said, snorting. It might be a trap... It’s a gamble you’ll have to take. Remember, though, they haven’t asked me to pledge anything. I can always tell Arya what they say, if needed. Silly of them, forgetting that I’m as intelligent as any human.

Pleased with the thought, Eragon said, “Very well, you have my word. Now, who do you want to lead the Varden?”

“Nasuada.”

Surprised, Eragon dropped his gaze, thinking quickly. He had not considered Nasuada for the succession because of her youth — she was just a few years older than Eragon. No real reason existed, of course, for her not to lead, but why would the Council of Elders want her to? How would they benefit? He remembered Brom’s advice and tried to examine the issue from every angle, knowing that he had to decide swiftly.

Nasuada has steel in her, observed Saphira. She would be like her father.

Maybe, but what’s their reason for picking her?

To gain time, Eragon asked, “Why not you, Jörmundur? Ajihad called you his right-hand man. Doesn’t that mean you should take his place now that he’s gone?”

A current of unease ran through the counciclass="underline" Sabrae sat even straighter, hands clasped before her; Umérth and Falberd glanced at each other darkly, while Elessari just smiled, the dagger hilt jiggling on her chest.

“Because,” said Jörmundur, selecting his words with care, “Ajihad was speaking of military matters then, nothing more. Also, I am a member of this council, which only has power because we support one another. It would be foolish and dangerous for one of us to raise himself above the rest.” The council relaxed as he finished, and Elessari patted Jörmundur on the forearm.

Ha! exclaimed Saphira. He probably would have taken power if it were possible to force the others to back him. Just look how they eye him. He’s like a wolf in their midst.

A wolf in a pack of jackals, perhaps.

“Does Nasuada have enough experience?” inquired Eragon.

Elessari pressed herself against the table’s edge as she leaned forward. “I had already been here for seven years when Ajihad joined the Varden. I’ve watched Nasuada grow up from a darling girl to the woman she is. A trifle light-headed occasionally, but a good figure to lead the Varden. The people will love her. Now I,” she patted herself affectionately on the bosom, “and my friends will be here to guide her through these troubled times. She will never be without someone to show her the way. Inexperience should be no barrier to her taking her rightful position.”

Understanding flooded Eragon. They want a puppet!

“Ajihad’s funeral will be held in two days,” broke in Umérth. “Directly afterward, we plan to appoint Nasuada as our new leader. We have yet to ask her, but she will surely agree. We want you to be present at the appointing — no one, not even Hrothgar, can complain about it then — and to swear fealty to the Varden. That will give back the confidence Ajihad’s death has stolen from the people, and prevent anyone from trying to splinter this organization.”

Fealty!

Saphira quickly touched Eragon’s mind. Notice, they don’t want you to swear to Nasuada — just to the Varden.

Yes, and they want to be the ones to appoint Nasuada, which would indicate that the council is more powerful than she. They could have asked Arya or us to appoint her, but that would mean acknowledging whoever did it as above everyone in the Varden. This way, they assert their superiority over Nasuada, gain control over us through fealty, and also get the benefit of having a Rider endorse Nasuada in public.

“What happens,” he asked, “if I decide not to accept your offer?”

“Offer?” Falberd asked, seeming puzzled. “Why, nothing, of course. Only it would be a terrible slight if you’re not present when Nasuada is chosen. If the hero of the battle of Farthen Dûr ignores her, what can she think but that a Rider has spited her and found the Varden unworthy to serve? Who could bear such a shame?”

The message could have been no clearer. Eragon clenched Zar’roc’s pommel under the table, yearning to scream that it was unnecessary to force him to support the Varden, that he would have done it anyway. Now, however, he instinctively wanted to rebel, to elude the shackles they were trying to place on him. “Since Riders are so highly thought of, I could decide that my efforts would be best spent guiding the Varden myself.”

The mood in the room hardened. “That would be unwise,” stated Sabrae.

Eragon combed his mind for a way to escape the situation. With Ajihad gone, said Saphira, it may be impossible to remain independent of every group, as he wanted us to. We cannot anger the Varden, and if this council is to control it once Nasuada is in place, then we must appease them. Remember, they act as much out of self-preservation as we do.

But what will they want us to do once we are in their grasp? Will they respect the Varden’s pact with the elves and send us to Ellesméra for training, or command otherwise? Jörmundur strikes me as an honorable man, but the rest of the council? I can’t tell.

Saphira brushed the top of his head with her jaw. Agree to be at this ceremony with Nasuada; that much I think we must do. As for swearing fealty, see if you can avoid acquiescing. Perhaps something will occur between now and then that will change our position... Arya may have a solution.

Without warning, Eragon nodded and said, “As you wish; I shall attend Nasuada’s appointment.”

Jörmundur looked relieved. “Good, good. Then we have only one more matter to deal with before you go: Nasuada’s acceptance. There’s no reason to delay, with all of us here. I’ll send for her immediately. And Arya too — we need the elves’ approval before making this decision public. It shouldn’t be difficult to procure; Arya cannot go against our council and you, Eragon. She will have to agree with our judgment.”

“Wait,” commanded Elessari, a steely glint in her eyes. “Your word, though, Rider. Will you give it in fealty at the ceremony?”

“Yes, you must do that,” agreed Falberd. “The Varden would be disgraced if we couldn’t provide you every protection.”

A nice way to put it!

It was worth a try, said Saphira. I fear you have no choice now.

They wouldn’t dare harm us if I refused.

No, but they could cause us no end of grief. It is not for my own sake that I say accept, but for yours. Many dangers exist that I cannot protect you from, Eragon. With Galbatorix set against us, you need allies, not enemies, around you. We cannot afford to contend with both the Empire and the Varden.

Finally, “I’ll give it.” All around the table were signs of relaxation — even a poorly concealed sigh from Umérth. They’re afraid of us!