“Because,” said Nasuada, “I believe I can make a good queen. And because—as with everything I have done while leading the Varden—I believe it is what is best for our people and for the whole of Alagaësia.”
“You have a very high opinion of yourself.”
“False modesty is never admirable, and least of all among those who command others. Have I not amply demonstrated my ability to lead? If not for me, the Varden would still be cowering inside Farthen Dûr, waiting for a sign from above that it was the right time to advance on Galbatorix. I shepherded the Varden from Farthen Dûr to Surda, and I built them into a mighty army. With your help, yes, but I am the one who led them, and it was I who secured the help of the dwarves, the elves, and the Urgals. Could you have done as much? Whosoever rules in Urû’baen will have to treat with every race in the land, not just our own. Again, this I have done and this I can do.” Then Nasuada’s voice softened, although her expression remained as strong as ever. “Orrin, why do you want this? Would it make you any happier?”
“It isn’t a question of happiness,” he growled.
“But it is, in part. Do you really want to govern the whole of the Empire in addition to Surda? Whoever takes the throne will have a huge task ahead. There is a country to rebuild: treaties to negotiate, cities still to capture, nobles and magicians to subdue. It will take a lifetime to even begin to undo the damage Galbatorix has wrought. Is that something you are really willing to undertake? It seems to me that you would prefer your life as it once was.” Her gaze shifted to the goblet in his lap and then back to his face. “If you accept my offer, you can return to Aberon and your experiments in natural philosophy. Wouldn’t you like that? Surda will be larger and richer, and you will have the freedom to pursue your interests.”
“We don’t always get to do what we like. Sometimes we have to do what is right, not what we want,” said King Orrin.
“True, but—”
“Besides, if I were king in Urû’baen, I would be able to pursue my interests here just as easily as I could in Aberon.” Nasuada frowned, but before she could speak, Orrin overrode her: “You don’t understand.…” He scowled and took another sip of wine.
Then explain it to us, said Saphira, her impatience conspicuous in the color of her thoughts.
Orrin snorted, drained his goblet, and then threw it against the door to the staircase, denting the gold of the cup and knocking several of the jewels from their settings so that they spun jittering across the floor. “I can’t,” he growled, “and I don’t care to try.” He glared around the room. “None of you would understand. You are too bound up in your own importance to see. How could you, when you’ve never experienced what I have?” He sank back into his chair, his eyes like dark coals beneath the eaves of his brow. To Nasuada, he said, “You are determined? You will not withdraw your claim?”
She shook her head.
“And if I choose to pursue my own claim?”
“Then we will be in conflict.”
“And the three of you will side with her?” asked Orrin, looking in turn at Arya, Orik, and Grimrr.
“If the Varden are attacked, we will fight alongside them,” said Orik.
“As will we,” said Arya.
King Orrin smiled a smile that was more a baring of his teeth than anything. “But you would not think to tell us who we ought to choose as our ruler, now would you?”
“Of course not,” said Orik, and his own teeth flashed white and dangerous within his beard.
“Of course not.” Then Orrin returned his attention to Nasuada. “I want Belatona, along with the other cities you mentioned.”
Nasuada thought for a moment. “You’re already gaining two port cities with Feinster and Aroughs, three if you count Eoam on Beirland Isle. I’ll give you Furnost instead, and then you’ll have the whole of Lake Tüdosten, even as I will have the whole of Leona Lake.”
“Leona is more valuable than Tüdosten, as it grants access to the mountains and the northern coast,” Orrin pointed out.
“Aye. But you already have access to Leona Lake from Dauth and the Jiet River.”
King Orrin stared at the floor in the center of the room and was silent. Outside, the top of the sun slipped below the edge of the horizon, leaving a few attenuated clouds illuminated by its light. The sky began to darken, and the first few stars appeared in the gloaming: faint pinpricks of light in the purple vastness. A slight breeze started, and in the sound of it brushing against the sides of the tower, Eragon heard the rustling of the sawtooth nettles.
The longer they waited, the more likely it seemed to Eragon that Orrin would reject Nasuada’s offer, or that he would remain sitting there, silent, for the entire night.
Then the king shifted his weight and looked up. “Very well,” he said in a low voice. “As long as you honor the terms of our agreement, I shall not challenge you for Galbatorix’s throne … Your Majesty.”
A shiver passed through Eragon as he heard Orrin utter those words.
Her expression somber, Nasuada walked forward until she stood in the center of the open room. Then Orik struck the butt of Volund’s haft against the floor and proclaimed, “The king is dead, long live the queen!”
“The king is dead, long live the queen!” cried Eragon, Arya, Däthedr, and Grimrr. The werecat’s lips stretched, baring his sharp fangs, and Saphira uttered a loud, triumphant bugle, which echoed off the angled ceiling and out over the dusk-ridden city below. A sense of approval emanated from the Eldunarí.
Nasuada stood tall and proud, her eyes gleaming with tears in the graying light. “Thank you,” she said, and looked at each of them, holding their gaze. Still, her thoughts seemed to be directed elsewhere, and about her was an air of sadness that Eragon doubted the others noticed.
And all across the land, darkness sank, leaving the top of their tower a lone beacon of light high above the city.
A FITTING EPITAPH
fter their victory at Urû’baen, the months passed both quickly and slowly for Eragon. Quickly because there was much for him and Saphira to do, and rare was the day that they were not exhausted by sundown. Slowly because he continued to feel a lack of purpose—despite the many tasks Queen Nasuada gave them—and it seemed to him as if they were idling in a patch of becalmed water, waiting for something, anything, to push them back into the main current.
He and Saphira stayed in Urû’baen for another four days after Nasuada was chosen queen, helping establish the Varden’s presence there and throughout the surrounding area. Much of that time they spent dealing with the inhabitants of the city—usually placating crowds who were furious with some action of the Varden’s—and hunting groups of soldiers who had fled Urû’baen and were preying upon travelers, peasants, and nearby estates to support themselves. He and Saphira also participated in the effort to rebuild the city’s massive front gate, and at Nasuada’s behest, he cast several spells designed to prevent those still loyal to Galbatorix from working against her. The spells applied only to the people within the city and the adjacent lands, but having them in place made everyone in the Varden feel safer.