Paolini, Christopher - Inheritance Trilogy, Book 2 - Eldest (v1.5) Read Online Free

stood, wings
    brushing the ceiling. You need to eat, then we must discover what the
    Varden are planning. We can’t waste time; a new leader could be chosen
    within hours.
    Eragon agreed, thinking of how they had left everyone yesterday: Orik
    rushing off to give King Hrothgar the tidings, Jörmundur taking Ajihad’s
    body to a place where it would rest until the funeral, and Arya, who
    stood alone and watched the goings-on.
    Eragon rose and strapped on Zar’roc and his bow, then bent and lifted
    Snowfire’s saddle. A line of pain sheared through his torso, driving him to
    the floor, where he writhed, scrabbling at his back. It felt like he was be-
    ing sawed in half. Saphira growled as the ripping sensation reached her.
    She tried to soothe him with her own mind but was unable to alleviate
    his suffering. Her tail instinctually lifted, as if to fight.
    It took minutes before the fit subsided and the last throb faded away,
    leaving Eragon gasping. Sweat drenched his face, making his hair stick and
    his eyes sting. He reached back and gingerly fingered the top of his scar. It
    was hot and inflamed and sensitive to touch. Saphira lowered her nose
    and touched him on the arm. Oh, little one....
    15
    It was worse this time, he said, staggering upright. She let him lean
    against her as he wiped off the sweat with a rag, then he tentatively
    stepped toward the door.
    Are you strong enough to go?
    We have to. We’re obliged as dragon and Rider to make a public choice
    regarding the next head of the Varden, and perhaps even influence the selec-
    tion. I won’t ignore the strength of our position; we now wield great authority
    within the Varden. At least the Twins aren’t here to grab the position for
    themselves. That’s the only good in the situation.
    Very well, but Durza should suffer a thousand years of torture for what he
    did to you.
    He grunted. Just stay close to me.
    Together they made their way through Tronjheim, toward the nearest
    kitchen. In the corridors and hallways, people stopped and bowed to
    them, murmuring “Argetlam” or “Shadeslayer.” Even dwarves made the
    motions, though not as often. Eragon was struck by the somber, haunted
    expressions of the humans and the dark clothing they wore to display
    their sadness. Many women were dressed entirely in black, lace veils cov-
    ering their faces.
    In the kitchen, Eragon brought a stone platter of food to a low table.
    Saphira watched him carefully in case he should have another attack.
    Several people tried to approach him, but she lifted a lip and growled,
    sending them scurrying away. Eragon picked at his food and pretended to
    ignore the disturbances. Finally, trying to divert his thoughts from
    Murtagh, he asked, Who do you think has the means to take control of the
    Varden now that Ajihad and the Twins are gone?
    She hesitated. It’s possible you could, if Ajihad’s last words were inter-
    preted as a blessing to secure the leadership. Almost no one would oppose
    you. However, that does not seem a wise path to take. I see only trouble in
    that direction.
    I agree. Besides, Arya wouldn’t approve, and she could be a dangerous
    enemy. Elves can’t lie in the ancient language, but they have no such inhibi-
    tion in ours—she could deny that Ajihad ever uttered those words if it
    served her purposes. No, I don’t want the position.... What about Jörmun-
    dur?
    16
    Ajihad called him his right-hand man. Unfortunately, we know little
    about him or the Varden’s other leaders. Such a short time has passed since
    we came here. We will have to make our judgment on our feelings and im-
    pressions, without the benefit of history.
    Eragon pushed his fish around a lump of mashed tubers. Don’t forget
    Hrothgar and the dwarf clans; they won’t be quiet in this. Except for Arya,
    the elves have no say in the succession—a decision will be made before
    word of this even reaches them. But the dwarves can’t be—won’t be—
    ignored. Hrothgar favors the