No wonder the Twins were so desperate to extract your vocabulary of the ancient language when they tested you in Farthen Dûr,observed Saphira.With it they could have easily conquered these lesser magicians.

They’re all we have to work with, though.

True. I hope you can see now I was right about Trianna. She places her own desires before the good of the many.

You were right,he agreed.But I don’t condemn her for it. Trianna deals with the world in the best way she can, as do we all. I understand that, even if I don’t approve, and understanding—as Oromis said—breeds empathy.

A bit more than a third of the spellcasters specialized as healers. Those Eragon sent on their way after giving them a quintet of new spells to memorize, enchantments that would allow them to treat a greater range of injuries. The remaining spellcasters Eragon worked with to establish a clear chain of command—he appointed Trianna his lieutenant and let her ensure that his orders were carried out—and to weld their disparate personalities into a cohesive fighting unit. Trying to convince magicians to cooperate, he discovered, was like trying to get a pack of dogs to share a meat bone. Nor did it help that they were in evident awe of him, for he could find no way of using his influence to smooth relations among the contentious magicians.

In order to gain a better idea of their exact proficiency, Eragon had them cast a series of spells. As he watched them struggle with enchantments that he now considered simple, Eragon became aware of just how far his own powers had advanced. To Saphira, he marveled,And to think I once had trouble lifting a pebble in the air.

And to think,she replied,Galbatorix has had over a century to hone his talent.

The sun was low in the west, intensifying the fermented orange light until the Varden’s camp, the livid Jiet River, and the entirety of the Burning Plains glowed in the mad, marbled effulgence, as if in a scene from a lunatic’s dreams. The sun was no more than a finger’s breadth above the horizon when a runner arrived at the tent. He told Eragon that Nasuada ordered him to attend her at once. “An’ I think you’d better hurry, Shadeslayer, if you don’t mind me saying so.”

After extracting a promise from Du Vrangr Gata that they would be ready and willing when he called upon them for assistance, Eragon ran alongside Saphira through the rows of gray tents toward Nasuada’s pavilion. A harsh tumult above them caused Eragon to lift his eyes from the treacherous ground long enough to glance overhead.

What he saw was a giant flock of birds wheeling between the two armies. He spotted eagles, hawks, and falcons, along with countless greedy crows and their larger, dagger-beaked, blue-backed, rapacious cousin, the raven. Each bird shrieked for blood to wet its throat and enough hot meat to fill its belly and sate its hunger. By experience and instinct, they knew that whenever armies appeared in Alagaësia, they could expect to feast on acres of carrion.

The clouds of war are gathering,observed Eragon.

NARGARZHVOG

Eragon entered the pavilion, Saphira pushing her head through after him. He was met by a steely rasp as Jörmundur and a half-dozen of Nasuada’s commanders drew their swords at the intruders. The men lowered their weapons as Nasuada said, “Come here, Eragon.”

“What is your bidding?” Eragon asked.

“Our scouts report that a company of some hundred Kull approach from the northeast.”

Eragon frowned. He had not expected to encounter Urgals in this battle, since Durza no longer controlled them and so many had been killed in Farthen Dûr. But if they had come, they had come. He felt his bloodlust rise and allowed himself a savage grin as he contemplated destroying Urgals with his new strength. Clapping his hand to Zar’roc’s hilt, he said, “It will be a pleasure to eliminate them. Saphira and I can handle it by ourselves, if you want.”

Nasuada watched his face carefully as she said, “We can’t do that, Eragon. They’re flying a white flag, and they have asked to talk with me.”

Eragon gaped at her. “Surely you don’t intend to grant them an audience?”

“I will offer them the same courtesies I would to any foe who arrives under the banner of truce.”

“They’re brutes, though. Monsters! It’s folly to allow them into the camp. . . . Nasuada, I have seen the atrocities Urgals commit. They relish pain and suffering and deserve no more mercy than a rabid dog. There is no need for you to waste time over what is surely a trap. Just give the word and I and every last one of your warriors will be more than willing to kill these foul creatures for you.”

“In this,” said Jörmundur, “I agree with Eragon. If you won’t listen to us, Nasuada, at least listen to him.”

First Nasuada said to Eragon in a murmur low enough that no one else could hear, “Your training is indeed unfinished if you are so blinded.” Then she raised her voice, and in it Eragon heard the same adamantine notes of command that her father had possessed: “You all forget that I fought in Farthen Dûr, the same as you, and that I saw the savagery of the Urgals. . . . However, I also saw our own men commit acts just as heinous. I shall not denigrate what we have endured at the Urgals’ hands, but neither shall I ignore potential allies when we are so greatly outnumbered by the Empire.”

“My Lady, it’s too dangerous for you to meet with a Kull.”

“Too dangerous?” Nasuada raised an eyebrow. “While I am protected by Eragon, Saphira, Elva, and all the warriors around me? I think not.”