Eragon is woken up by Saphira growling in her sleep. Aww, how cute! You’ve turned a sentient, intelligent creature capable of advanced thought and powerful magic into a giant sleepy puppy! That’s not insulting at all. Eragon and Murtagh whisper to each other about how long they’ve been in there, and then, because there’s nothing to do, Eragon naps some more and then walks around the room for a bit. He stops to inspect a lantern, which is described to us in minute, useless detail. Finally Baldy and Orik come back and tell them that their leader, Ajihad, wants to meet them.
“Where are our horses? And can I have my sword and bow back?” asked Eragon.
The bald man looked at him with disdain. “Your weapons will be returned to you when Ajihad sees fit, not before. As for your horses, they await you in the tunnel. Now come!”
I’d look at him with disdain too if he asked me such a stupid question. Here, I’ll give you the top three reasons why you can’t have your weapons back:
You’re a prisoner – just because they’ve determined you’re not with the Empire doesn’t mean you’re not a threat
You’re traveling with a guy who refuses to cooperate
You’re going to meet the leader of the only resistance on the entire planet
So, no, you can’t be armed. But hey, at least the horses are coming back. They’re what keeps this story together, after all.
They head back to the main tunnel where the horses are waiting. Eragon tries to ride Saphira, but Baldy yells at him to “Ride your horse until I tell you otherwise.” While they’re heading down the tunnel, Eragon starts getting nervous about meeting this Ajihad.
The leader of the Varden was a shadowy figure to the people within the Empire. He had risen to power nearly twenty years ago and since then had waged a fierce war against King Galbatorix. No one knew where he came from or even what he looked like. It was rumored that he was a master strategist, a brutal fighter. With such a reputation, Eragon worried about how they would be received. Still, knowing that Brom had trusted the Varden enough to serve them helped to allay his fears.
Funny how we’re only hearing about this guy now. Shouldn’t Brom have mentioned him at some point when they were discussing whether or not Eragon should join the Varden? Or during his rambling last words, maybe he could have said, “Ask for Ajihad when you get there”? It reads like Paolini only just thought up this character as he was writing this chapter, and never bothered to go back and add in a couple sentences to make his writing more cohesive. This is why books need proof-readers, kids.
Also, why would Eragon know anything about the leader of the Varden anyway? No one outside the organization should know who he is or what he looks like – it’s supposed to be a secret because otherwise it would be very easy to find and kill him! In fact, there should be a lot of contradictory rumors floating about. The more misinformation there is out there, the harder it’ll be to pinpoint exactly what the Varden are up to, who their leaders are, or even where they’re located. But, then again, we’ve already established that the Varden are pretty dense, so I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.
It takes them an hour to get to a pair of doors, where Baldy stops them and says Eragon needs to ride Saphira now, and warns him that “there will be people watching, so remember who and what you are” so he should try to fly away. I guess they’re trying to make an impression on both Eragon and the Varden, but if there’s a possibility that Eragon would try to fly off, and they don’t trust him with weapons at this point, then why would let him ride Saphira if they don’t trust him not to bolt at the first opportunity?
Anyway, the doors open to reveal that the mountain is hollow, and there’s a smaller, marble mountain inside that is actually a city that houses the Varden. There’s an overwrought description of the entire thing, but the important thing to note here is that the larger mountain, Farthen Dûr, is roughly ten miles across and just as tall, and the smaller mountain, Tronjheim, is a mile high. I still don’t know how Eragon can possibly give an accurate estimate of these distances, but whatever. Everything is huge, and scale is meaningless.
Orik gives a little speech about how no Rider has ever seen this sight before (I wonder how many times he practiced this in the mirror), and Eragon realizes that there’s a crowd gathered around the tunnel entrance, silently staring at him.
A bead of sweat rolled down Eragon’s face, but he dared not move to wipe it away. What should I do? he asked frantically.
Smile, raise your hand, anything! replied Saphira sharply.
Eragon tried to force out a smile, but his lips only twitched. Gathering his courage, he pushed a hand into the air, jerking it in a little wave. When nothing happened, he flished with embarrassment, lowered his arm, and ducked his head.
This part’s actually pretty decent. Eragon’s a kid from a small farming community, and from what we’ve seen he’s never been very popular or had a lot of friends, so it makes sense he would freeze in the face of all that attention. I mean, it’s rather silly that they have a crowd of thousands waiting for them, but the way he handled it is believable. Saphira knows how to play to the crowd, tough, puffing out smoke as she passes them.
But, uh-oh, looks like some people aren’t too happy to see our hero!
He stared curiously at the jostling crowd as she proceeded along the path. Dwarves greatly outnumbered humans . . . and many of them glared at him resentfully. Some even turned their backs and walked away with stony faces.
How dare those icky dwarves not worship at our illustrious hero’s feet?! (Also, get used to the rock/stone comparisons. They come up every time a dwarf is on the page.)
The humans were hard, tough people. All the men had daggers or knives at their waists; many were armed for war. The women carried themselves proudly, but they seemed to conceal a deep-abiding weariness. The few children and babies stared at Eragon with large eyes. He felt certain that these people had experienced much hardship and that they would do whatever was necessary to defend themselves.
Uh, shouldn’t the women be armed too? I know Paolini was too lazy to come up with a culture that doesn’t adhere to rigid, traditional gender roles, but if they’ve “experienced much hardship” to the point where all of the men are carrying blades, you’d think at least a couple of the women would want to defend themselves as well. I’m also pretty sure that most of those babies aren’t going to be able to focus on Eragon long enough to follow his progress down this path, let alone know enough to care that he exists.
The Varden had found the perfect hiding place. Farthen Dûr’s walls were too high for a dragon to fly over, and no army could break through the entranceway, even if it managed to find the hidden doors.
Well that’s just begging to be proven wrong. Is Paolini trying to broadcast the fact that Farthen Dûr will be attacked? And Eragon’s been here all of twelve hours at the most – how the hell can he be sure that there aren’t any holes in the defenses? How does he know magic won’t take those doors apart, or if Galbatorix’s dragon can’t fly higher than Saphira? You can’t just have your main character give us an objective statement when he isn’t fully informed, dammit!
They reach Tronjheim, and there’s a page-long description that ends with them in a hall that has a giant red sapphire in the ceiling – which is a cool set-piece, I guess. Eragon stares slack-jawed at everything like a tourist, until finally Baldy tells him where to go next.
The bald man walked in front of Saphira and said, “You must go on foot from here.” There was a scattered booing from the crowd as he spoke.
What – why? Why is the crowd booing? Were they really that excited to see some jackass sitting on a dragon? Are they pissed off that he has to go talk to Ajihad now? Is walking taboo in this culture? What the hell is going on?
Anyway, Eragon, Murtagh, and Saphira are all led down a giant hallway, and the chapter ends with Baldy opening a door behind which, presumably, Ajihad is. I wish it was a man-eating tiger instead.
With Murtagh still being held at knifepoint by Baldy McObviousAntagonist, Eragon and Saphira are led into a side tunnel (where I’m suprised Saphira can fit, especially with a passenger strapped to her back).
The horses were led into a different tunnel.
Nooo! How can I go on, knowing the horses may be in danger? What about Snowfire, Paolini? What about Snowfire?!
They’re taken to a room “large enough to Saphira to move around with ease” and locked in. Eragon tries to tell their captors that Arya needs medical attention, but Baldy cuts him off and says it has to wait until they’ve been tested, then orders them to disarm.
When they were a yard apart, the man said, “Stop there! Now remove the defenses from around your mind and prepare to let me inspect your thoughts and memories. If you try to hide anything from me, I will take what I want by force . . . which would drive you mad. If you don’t submit, your companion will be killed.”
“Why?” asked Eragon, aghast.
“To be sure you aren’t in Galbatorix’s service and to understand why hundreds of Urgals are banging on our front door,” growled the bald man.
The fact that Eragon even had to ask that question tells me he’s too stupid to be a good hero.
Also, do we constantly need to be reminded that Baldy McBaldbald of the Bald Clan is bald? Paolini doesn’t quite reach bad fanfiction-levels of epithets, but it’s still redundant at best. Other than the dwarf, this guy is the only one who’s spoken to Eragon; we don’t need to be told every time he speaks that he’s bald. Wait until someone else cuts into the conversation to break out the identifying adjectives.
His close-set eyes shifted from point to point with cunning speed. “No one may enter Farthen Dûr without being tested.”
This guy is literally shifty-eyed. Man, Paolini is a master of sleight of hand. Everyone will definitely be surprised if this guy winds up being evil later, right?
The dwarf who had saved Eragon from the lake jumped forward. “Are you blind, Egraz Carn? Can’t you see that’s an elf on the dragon? We cannot keep her here if she’s in danger. Ajihad and the king will have our heads if she’s allowed to die!”
The man’s eyes tightened with anger. After a moment he relaxed and said smoothly, “Of course, Orik, we wouldn’t want that to happen.” He snapped his fingers and pointed at Arya. “Remove her from the dragon.” Two human warriors sheathed their swords and hesitantly approached Saphira, who watched them steadily. “Quickly, quickly!”
The men unstrapped Arya from the saddle and lowered the elf to the floor. One of the men inspected her face, then said sharply, “It’s the dragon-egg courier, Arya!”
“What?” exclaimed the bald man. The dwarf Orik’s eyes widened with astonishment. The bald man fixed his steely gaze on Eragon and said flatly, “You have much explaining to do.”
So let me get this straight: the person ferrying the dragon egg that all of your hopes rest on is an elf, and has been missing for months, and you’re not immediately suspicious of the fact that this bozo wanders onto your front porch carrying an elf on the back of a dragon? You have to wait until he’s begging you to help, dismissively agree to help because your boss wouldn’t like it if you let an elf die, and then get pissy because she turns out to be your missing courier and you didn’t realize it until just now? Hot damn, these Varden guys are idiots.
I mean, it’s pretty clear in the text that elves almost never come out of Du Weldenvarden. And since the only living dragon they know of is Galbatorix’s, someone showing up with a different dragon (especially a dragon the same color of the egg they’ve been passing around for decades) and an unconscious elf should immediately pique their interest. But no, we can’t have the NPCs overshadowing our hero’s greatness. Being able to put two and two together is beyond Eragon’s ken, and therefore it’s something the minor characters definitely can’t do.
On a side note, Egraz Carn isn’t the bald guy’s name. It’s dwarvish – for “Bald One”. Hey, did you know this guy doesn’t have any hair on his head? Because he doesn’t!
Eragon did not want this hairless threatening man inside his mind
Oh my god enough already! We get it. He’s bald. Hairless as a newborn babe. No grass grows on this mountaintop. Give the fucker an identity that goes past his physical appearance and move the fuck on. (Also, is anyone else getting the feeling that this guy’s lack of hair is supposed to be a moral failing or something? No? Just me? All right then.)
I’ve decided this is his theme song. You’re welcome.
Anyway, Baldy (who still doesn’t have a personality other than “mean and bald”, so I can’t really call him anything else) has the warriors take Arya to the healers, then says it’s time to probe Eragon’s mind, saying it won’t hurt unless he resists.
Eragon gasped with pain and shock as a mental probe clawed its way into his mind. His eyes rolled up into his head, and he automatically began throwing up barriers around his consciousness. The attack was incredibly powerful.
Don’t do that! cried Saphira. Her thoughts joined his, filling him with strength. You’re putting Murtagh at risk! Eragon faltered, gritted his teeth, then forced himself to remove his shielding, exposing himself to the ravening probe. Disappointment emanated from the bald man. His battering intensified. The force coming from his mind felt decayed and unwholesome; there was something profoundly wrong about it.
He wants me to fight him! cried Eragon as a fresh wave of pain racked him.
So I had this whole spiel about how lazy and ham-fisted this scene is, because it paints Baldy as obviously sadistic while still being stupidly vague (Unwholesome? Really? You had to go and use a word that you don’t normally hear from anyone but Focus on the Family types?), but I just can’t get past the fact that this reads like a rape scene.
I know, I know. Maybe I’m reading too much into this one. I want to be reading too much into this. But when the author uses phrases like “His battering intensified” and makes it profoundly clear that this guy wants Eragon to struggle so he can cause more pain? It’s kind of difficult to take it any other way. (The thing is, I don’t think this is intentional. For one thing, this is never brought up again, even though this is a clearly traumatizing experience… which would have made an interesting plot line if there was even a hint of promise that it would be handled well. And, frankly, I doubt Paolini would ever think of putting Eragon in a position where he wasn’t consenting to sex. These books are so predictably hetero-normative I wouldn’t be surprised if the author thought men couldn’t be raped.)
Anyway, while Baldy is evilly rooting through Eragon’s childhood, Eragon and Saphira work to hide what they deem important. This includes “sections of his discussions with Brom, including all the ancient words he had been taught […] everything he remembered of Angela’s fortunetelling and Solembum […] and lastly to Murtagh’s revelation of his true identity.” Saphira doesn’t like this last bit, pointing out that the Varden should probably know who they’ve got under their roof, but Eragon insists that he’s not going to be the one to give out that information, even if they’re going to find out anyway when they scan Murtagh. Okay, fair enough. It’s a noble little gesture, even if it is ultimately pointless.
Baldy takes his time finishing his inspection, then lets Eragon fall to the floor from exhaustion before begrudgingly saying that he’s not a threat. Murtagh refuses to be scanned next, but Baldy forces him into it and is pretty clearly shown to be torturing him before the dwarf, Orik, breaks it up and screams at him for being an asshole. They get into a pissing contest over it, and finally Orik forces Baldy to admit he learned that Murtagh can’t cast magic, so they can just keep him locked up without worrying that he’ll escape.
When his eyes opened, he ignored Orik and snapped at the warriors, “Leave, now!” As they filed through the doorway, he addressed Eragon coldly, “Because I was unable to complete my examination, you and . . . your friend will remain here for the night. He will be killed if he attempts to leave.”
So if Eragon tries to break out you’ll, what, reward him with cake?
Eragon asks Murtagh if he’s all right, and Murtagh replies that he was able to withstand Baldy’s mental assault because he’s been “well trained.” Then Eragon starts to ask about him being Morzan’s son, gets distracted because he needs to heal Saphira, and then finally gets around to asking again about Murtagh’s past.
“Why are you here?”
“What?”
“If you really are Morzan’s son, Galbatorix wouldn’t let you wander around Alagaësia freely. How is it you managed to find the Ra’zac by yourself? Why is it I’ve never heard of any of the Forsworn having children? And what are you doing here?” His voice rose to a near shout at the end.
Did you ever think that maybe Murtagh’s more competent than you, and doesn’t need to be led around by the hand from plot point to plot point? Or that the “official” story about Galbatorix and the Forsworn might have left some shit out, or not been completely truthful? Or that maybe, just fucking maybe, Murtagh doesn’t owe you an explanation for his existence?
Of course not. Because badgering a “friend” into telling you their life story is what being a hero is all about.
Murtagh’s first sentence was halting, but his voice gained strength and confidence as he spoke. “As far as I know . . . I am the only child of the Thirteen Servants, or the Forsworn as they’re called. There may be others, for the Thirteen had the skill to hide whatever they wanted, but I doubt it, for reasons I’ll explain later.
Because there’s no way any of the Forsworn could have fathered a child without knowing about it. They were all in loyal, committed relationships and never dallied with a stranger while they were tooling about the country.
“My parents met in a small village – I never learned where – while my father was traveling on the king’s business. Morzan showed my mother some small kindness, no doubt a ploy to gain her confidence, and when he left, she accompanied him.
Or maybe he actually liked her. Maybe he liked the way her nose crinkled when she laughed, or thought she had a good sense of humor, or maybe he just thought she had a cute butt. Not everything he does has to be because he’s evil, does it?
They traveled together for a time, and as is the nature of these things, she fell deeply in love with him. Morzan was delighted to discover this not only because it gave him numerous opportunities to torment her but also because he recognized the advantage of having a servant who wouldn’t betray him.
“Thus, when Morzan returned to Galbatorix’s court, my mother became the tool he relied upon most. He used her to carry his secret messages, and he taught her rudimentary magic, which helped her remain undiscovered and, on occasion, extract information from people. He did his best to protect her from the rest of the Thirteen – not out of any feelings for her, but because they would have used her against him, given the chance […]
Just because someone’s evil doesn’t mean they’re horrible in every conceivable way. It’s really fucking boring to constantly read about baby-raping, puppy-killing villains because the author can’t be bothered to give their antagonists any motivation beyond stamping “EVIL” on their foreheads. And, frankly, I find it scarier when the villain can and does feel love even while they commit atrocities, because then there’s clearly a mental disconnect between people they love and people they find it acceptable to kill.
There’s also this lovely little implication that women are weak-willed and silly, because of course Murtagh’s mom fell in love with an evil jackass over “some small kindness” like, I dunno, giving her a present or escorting her across the street or not murdering her for looking at him wrong. And of course she was easily manipulated, completely loyal, and willing to stay with a guy who tormented her for funsies. And of fucking course there’s no way Morzan could have returned that love, or even felt some sort of affection for her – no, the only reason he could possible be happy that she loved him is because he wanted to use her and torture her.
Again, I don’t think this is intentional, but it’s pretty gross nonetheless.
Anyway, Murtagh’s mom winds up pregnant, so Morzan has her taken away from Galbatorix’s court to his own private castle, then uses his magic to make it so no one but a handful of servants and Galbatorix know about his kid. Murtagh’s mom gives birth, then has to return to court and can only come to visit every few months, this continues for a few years, Morzan gives Murtagh that huge scar on his back, yadda yadda… Then Saphira’s egg is stolen, and Morzan’s sent to go search for it, and Murtagh’s mom immediately disappears. Around the same time Morzan is killed, Mommy comes back to the castle and dies a couple weeks later, so Murtagh winds up being raised in the king’s palace but ultimately ignored by Galbatorix until his eighteenth birthday, when he’s invited to a private dinner with ol’ Galby.
“When the meal was finished, he finally began to speak. You’ve never heard his voice, so it’s hard for me to make you understand what it was like. His words were entrancing, like a snake whispering gilded lies into my ears. A more convincing and frightening man I’ve never heard.
A more blatant example of telling instead of showing I’ve never read.
Galbatorix goes on about the utopia he wants to create, where everything’s perfect, the Urgals are all dead, the Empire covers the entire continent, and the Riders are back in power. Then he asks if Murtagh will help him create his paradise, and Murtagh agrees. When Galbatorix finally calls on him to do his bidding, the king is… different:
We met in private as before, but this time he was not pleasant or charming. The Varden had just destroyed three brigades in the south, and his wrath was out in full force.
Gee, you mean a person’s demeanor can change depending on the situation? What a shock!
He charged me in a terrible voice to take a detachment of troops and destroy Cantos, where rebels were known to hide occasionally. When I asked what we should do with the people there and how we would know if they were guilty, he shouted, “They’re all traitors! Burn them at the stake and bury their ashes with dung!” He continued to rant, cursing his enemies and describing how he would scourge the land of everyone who bore him ill will.
“His tone was so different from what I had encountered before; it made me realize he didn’t possess the mercy or foresight to gain the people’s loyalty, and he ruled only through brute force guided by is own passions. It was at that moment I determined to escape him and Urû’baen forever.
Okay, so I get that this is supposed to show that Galbatorix is unstable and paranoid, but Murtagh runs away based on two conversations he had with the man? We’re not going to get a moral dilemma about having to kill innocent civilians or anything? No internal conflict between fealty to the king and doing what’s right? Bo-ring.
Murtagh runs away the same night with his servant, who’s killed in the escape. Then he hides for a while, hears that the Ra’zac were sent to find and/or kill someone, and decides he needs to follow them in case they find a dragon. And that is the end of his tragic backstory. It kind of loses its impact hearing it second-hand, but whatcha gonna do?
We still don’t know if he’s telling the truth, warned Saphira.
I know, said Eragon, but why would he lie to us?
Uh, for any number of reasons? Murtagh just admitted to being recruited by Galbatorix. This whole sob story could be a ploy to gain your trust – he could be planning to draw you in because you feel sorry for him, hang around with you for a while so you think he’s loyal, then betray you when you least expect it. He did say earlier that he was well trained in keeping up his mental defenses – who better to train him than the emperor, who’s supposedly so damn good at magic that he can do whatever the fuck he wants?
Anyway, Eragon doesn’t think of this (which is just as well for him, because it never happens) and asks Murtagh why he doesn’t just join up with the Varden, since they have a common enemy.
“Must I spell everything out for you?” demanded Murtagh. “I don’t want Galbatorix to learn where I am, which is inevitable if people start saying that I’ve sided with his enemies, which I’ve never done. These,” he paused, then said with distaste, “rebels are trying not only to overthrow the king but to destroy the Empire . . . and I don’t want that to happen. It would sow mayhem and anarchy. The king is flawed, yes, but the system itself is sound. As for earning the Varden’s respect: Ha! Once I am exposed, they’ll treat me like a criminal or worse. Not only that, suspicion will fall upon you because we traveled together!”
Okay, Murtagh’s got some good points, but I’d like to focus on his assertion that it’s Galbatorix who’s the problem and not the “system.” The problem with a line like that is the reader doesn’t know the system. I couldn’t begin to deliberate on whether or not Murtagh’s right because I don’t have a damn clue what the ruling class is like in this place! Are there state-appointed governors for the major cities? Do the nobility rule their own lands or do they just own titles? Does Galbatorix micromanage everything just so he can say he controls the entire Empire? Are there provinces, or just the random cities and towns we’ve heard of? If the Forsworn are all dead, does Galbatorix have other trusted lackeys? If the Riders were in charge before, did their leader rule the country or did they have a council that decided matters? You can’t insist the system is sound if you don’t give us any clue as to what the system is like, dammit!
Eragon tries to wave away Murtagh’s concerns by saying “It isn’t that bad” like he knows anything about it, but thankfully he’s interrupted when the Varden bring them some food and Murtagh decides eating is a better use of his time than talking to Brick-brain. And then they go to sleep. Which is so awesome, because I really missed all those chapters that ended with Eragon going to bed and started with him waking up.
Memorable Quotes
“She has to get the antidote! he thought frantically, knowing that even then the Skilna Bragh was fulfilling its deadly purpose within her flesh.” (pg 379)
“The walls, floor, and ceiling were made of polished white marble that reflected a ghost image of everyone, like a mirror of veined milk.” (pg 379) Is it just me or does “veined milk” sound positively disgusting?
Well folks, we’ve got just ten chapters left in Eragon. And while it’s taken me way too long to get this far, I should finish the book in the next month or so… which means it’s time to get ready for the next one. I’m going for a palate cleanser – not necessarily getting out of the fantasy genre, but getting away from Paolini’s bumbling for a bit before we come back to Eldest. I’ve got a couple options ready:
The Red Necklace, by Sally Gardner. It’s the story of the French Revolution, if you threw in devil worship and G*psy magic and a bland, uninspired love story and told it through the viewpoint of a couple teenagers who only witness events tangentially until the very end. Also kinda racist, what with the emphasis on the Romani having magical powers and all.
Daughter of the Blood, by Anne Bishop. Fantasy matriarchy, complete with overly complicated magic/ranking systems, gruesome depictions of genital mutilation, and looooooots of rape. Touted as being feminist, but really, really isn’t.
Wizard’s First Rule, by Terry Goodkind. I actually haven’t read this one before, but boy have I heard a lot about it (not to mention the author’s ego).
Your choice!
So, there you have it. If nobody votes/there’s a tie, I’ll probably go with The Red Necklace like I originally planned, but I thought I’d give you guys a choice first.
Last time, on Dragon Ball ZBuffy: the Vampire Slayer Eragon, our heroes engaged in more pointless bickering while fleeing for their lives. They got to the valley where the Varden are located only to find a dead end, and now Murtagh’s revealed that his dad was the fantasy equivalent of Joseph Goebbels.*
Eragon was speechless.
Can he please stay that way?
Disbelief roared through his mind as he tried to reject Murtagh’s words. The Forsworn never had any children, least of all Morzan. Morzan! The man who betrayed the Riders to Galbatorix and remained the king’s favorite servant for the rest of his life. Could it be true?
Woah, hold your horses there, Exposition Sally. First off, where did anyone say none of the Forsworn had kids? Was it buried somewhere in Brom’s riveting tale about Galbatorix kicking a dude in the crotch? Second, we already know all this – if we didn’t remember it from the beginning of the story, Murtagh’s just reminded us who Morzan was – so I don’t know why you’re giving us all this pointless backstory.
Saphira’s own shock reached him a second later. She crashed through trees and brush as she barreled from the river to his side, fangs bared, tail raised threateningly. Be ready for anything, she warned. He may be able to use magic.
You’ve been traveling with this guy for weeks without incident! If he wanted to hurt you, he had ample opportunity to do so.
Murtagh is so frantic to show Eragon he’s trustworthy that he takes off his shirt (whoo baby!) to reveal a huge scar across his back. Turns out Daddy dearest gave him that scar with the very sword that Eragon is carrying. Dun dun DUUUUUN! So you see, he has no reason to be working for the Empire or Galbatorix because his dad was a dick who liked to throw swords at toddlers when he had too much to drink. Because all fantasy villains are soulless sadistic Nazis, and we as a culture have not quite managed to realize that Hitler wasn’t the only evil dictator in history.
They finally remember that they’re being chased and start running:
Saphira stayed by Eragon’s side, easily keeping pace with her long legs. You could walk unhindered in the riverbed, he said as she was forced to smash through a dense web of branches.
I’ll not leave you with him.
Yeah, he might decide to murder you, just like all those times he didn’t try to kill you when you two were alone together. Or while you were sleeping. Or while you were drugged-up in prison.
Saphira and Eragon halfheartedly interrogate Murtagh while they’re running, and he points out that he could have just left Eragon in prison if he wanted to capture him, had plenty of opportunity to kill him, and has no reason to stick with them if he just wanted to lead the Urgals to the Varden. Then Eragon says maybe he’s an assassin, and my opinion of his intelligence falls even further. Who’s he going to assassinate? It’s not Eragon, clearly, and if everyone in the Varden knows who he and his dad are, no one’s going to trust him enough to give him a chance to kill anyone. If Eragon would just apply the tiniest bit of critical thinking, he would realize that Murtagh would make a shitty assassin based on his reputation alone.
Saphira? Eragon asked simply.
Her tail swished over his head. If he wanted to harm you, he could have done it long ago.
You just said you wouldn’t leave Eragon alone with him less than a page ago! Make up your damn mind – is he trustworthy or not?
A branch whipped Eragon’s neck, causing a line of blood to appear on his skin. The waterfall was growing louder. I want you to watch Murtagh closely when we get to the Varden. He may do something foolish, and I don’t want him killed by accident.
Oh, yeah, Murtagh’s the one who’s gonna do something stupid. This coming from the kid who can’t think about how his actions are going to influence events five seconds into the future. And considering how much he doesn’t want to be around the Varden, and he’s all but admitted they hate him on sight, I’m gonna bank on his death being anything but an accident.
I’m just gonna nitpick the POV here and point out that Eragon can’t be describing blood appearing on his neck. This is a third-person limited POV, not third-person omniscient. While the story is described by an outside narrator, we’re still seeing through Eragon’s eyes. And unless his eyes are on stalks, he can’t see his own neck unless he looks in a mirror. And if a tree branch hit him hard enough to draw blood, shouldn’t he be describing the pain first?
They finally get out of the woods and come across the waterfall, which has a lake in front of it that they have to edge around. (The lake is, of course, needlessly named, because a body of water that features in one scene clearly needs a clunky name with unnecessary punctuation. As does everything in a fantasy novel.) Halfway around the lake, the Urgals catch up with them and start flanking them. Saphira attacks one group of Urgals, giving Eragon and Murtagh time to make it to the waterfall.
“What do we do now?” Murtagh demanded coldly.
“I don’t know. Let me think!” cried Eragon, searching Arya’s memories for her final instructions.
All this time you were being chased and you didn’t think to memorize these instructions so you wouldn’t be stuck going “I don’t know what to do!”? Way to drop the ball, dipshit.
Of course Eragon remembers the password phrase in the next sentence, because we can’t have a moment of actual tension in a scene that’s supposed to be action-packed. This is a more boring version of the scene from Fellowship of the Ring where they’re trying to enter the Mines of Moria, and half of that was Gandalf sitting around trying to remember the password. Anyway, nothing happens when Eragon says his line, and he and Murtagh are trapped.
Up close a Kull was as tall as a small giant, with legs and arms as thick as tree trunks.
Oh hey, I found a description that actually rivals “they looked human only different” in terms of uselessness! Did you know that unless you give some context, comparing one fantasy species to another isn’t going to actually give your readers a good basis for comparison? I have no idea how big giants are in this world. They could be twice the size of a human, or as tall as a redwood, or big enough to be mistaken for a small mountain. Not to mention that “small giant” is an oxymoron, and doesn’t really tell us much beyond the fact that Paolini doesn’t think twice about mashing contradictory words together.
Eragon raised his palm, shouting, “Jierda theirra kalfis!” Sharp cracks resounded off the cliff. Twenty of the charging Urgals fell into Kóstha-mérna, howling and clutching their legs where shards of bone protruded.
Yeah, he just snaps their legs like it’s nothing. I like how he struggles to figure out the precise phrasing needed to get water from the ground, and almost kills himself trying to wrench water from a stone, but a week later he can effortlessly fling out a phrase that, according to the glossary in the back of the book, literally means “break their calves” and not fall over dead because the spell targeted all the Urgals instead of just the first twenty or so. I also like that he’s able to accurately count how many opponents were brought down by that spell in the midst of all that chaos. And by “like”, of course, I mean “find completely unbelievable”.
Murtagh starts shouting at Eragon that he needs to wake Arya up and double-check that they’re where they need to be, and then Saphira realizes they’re on the wrong side of the lake and they have to go through the waterfall to get to the Varden. Saphira jumps over to the other side, and there’s an entire page of Eragon trying to get the horses through the waterfall. Why are these horses so fucking important? Do they cure dwarf-cancer or something?
Eragon almost drowns trying to get through the waterfall. Unfortunately, somebody pulls him out at the last second (BOO! HISS!) and he surfaces just in time to see a hail of arrows keeping the Urgals at bay. And it’s not Murtagh who pulled him out, like he assumed, but a dwarf!
A dwarf! Eragon drew Zar’roc and looked for Saphira and Murtagh. Two twelve-foot-thick stone doors had opened in the cliff, revealing a broad tunnel nearly thirty feet tall that burrowed its way into the mysterious depths of the mountain. A line of flame-less lamps filled the passageway with a pale sapphire light that spilled out onto the lake.
Good to know Eragon’s observation skills are unharmed by his impromptu trip to the bottom of the lake. I can barely eyeball how wide my desk is, and this guy can tell the exact dimensions of a tunnel he’s never seen before at a glance. Man, he must have some sort of cybernetic implants that measure all this shit for him.
Saphira and Murtagh stood before the tunnel, surrounded by a grim mixture of men and dwarves. At Murtagh’s elbow was a bald, beardless man dressed in purple and gold robes. He was taller than all the other humans – and he was holding a dagger to Murtagh’s throat.
So, should I assume that every man in this book has a beard unless otherwise specified? Because that’s what Paolini is implying with this description.
Eragon reached for his power
Must resist temptation to make a penis joke. Must resist temptation to make a penis joke…
Eragon reached for his power, but the robed man said in a sharp, dangerous voice, “Stop! If you use magic, I’ll kill your lovely friend here, who was so kind as to mention you’re a Rider.
Uh… wouldn’t the dragon be kind of a dead giveaway on that one? Also, clearly someone in the Varden likes Murtagh – why else would this guy call him lovely?
Don’t think I won’t know if you’re drawing upon it. You can’t hide anything from me.” Eragon tried to speak, but the man snarled and pressed the dagger harder against Murtagh’s throat. “None of that! If you say or do anything I don’t tell you to, he will die. Now, everyone inside.” He backed into the tunnel, pulling Murtagh with him and keeping his eyes on Eragon.
I love it when authors don’t separate the dialogue of one character from the actions of another. It ranks right up there with sudden tense changes as one of my top pet peeves.
And so our heroes are led into the mountain, never to be heard from again. Hah, I wish. Oh man, do I wish.
*Look, I was going to Godwin myself at some point. I’m just doing it a chapter earlier than I originally meant to.
The next morning Eragon and Murtagh split up – Eragon flies with Saphira, while Murtagh takes the horses. Eragon finally talks to Saphira about what happened with the slavers, and she clearly agrees with what Murtagh did. Eragon seems to think that if Murtagh had given the slaver a chance to fight back or surrender, it would have been better, but Saphira points out that either way he was outmatched and would have died anyway. (Also, what were you going to do with him if he surrendered? Tie him to a horse and turn him over to the Varden?) Saphira actually has some good advice, telling Eragon:
Learn what you can about Murtagh from this. Then forgive him. And if you can’t forgive, at least forget, for he meant you no harm, however rash the act was.
The character development is, unsurprisingly, put to a stop as Eragon notices that the Urgals are catching up to them. He discusses the situation with Murtagh, but the situation doesn’t look good. They’re a good three days from where they need to be, but they have to reach the Varden in a day or they’ll be caught. Murtagh points out that this is probably going to get them all killed, considering the horses will probably drop dead from exhaustion before they make it, then offers to take off on his own, which would not only allow Eragon to fly on with Saphira at a much faster pace but also draw some of the troops off their trail. Eragon won’t hear it, though, even though he admits to himself that “I like him […] but I’m no longer certain if that’s a good thing.” Again, this is all over Murtagh killing a man who was a danger to their entire party without giving him a chance to fight back. Way to completely ignore everything he’s done for you, Eragon.
Anyway, the plan is basically for them to ride as hard as they can to the Varden and have Murtagh ditch them at the gates. They spend the night forging ahead, while Eragon tries to make sense of the images he got from Arya’s mind and still manages to get them lost. When morning comes, Eragon says he’ll fly ahead with Arya if they’re not “reasonably close by noon.” Why not have Saphira fly ahead with her and meet you there? She’s got a direct link to your mind, you could just show her the exact images you’re using to get there and that way Arya would get medical attention that much faster. Eragon also makes Murtagh promise to take the stupid horse with him, because we were all dying to know what happens to Snowfire, right?
They finally come across the valley where the Varden are located and try to hide from the Urgals, who have been steadily gaining on them this entire time. There are old “but not friendly” trees (because we had to slip another reference to Lord of the Rings in here somehow), and Totally-Not-Fangorn-Forest is filled to the brim with birds and animals none of them have ever seen before. This valley is apparently a self-contained ecosystem.
As Saphira jumped toward the sky, Eragon said, Do you think you could fly up to one of those peaks? We might be able to spot our destination, as well as a passage for Murtagh. I don’t want to listen to him griping through the entire valley.
Oh fuck you, you sanctimonious little weasel! If the man wants to complain because you led him into a deathtrap with an army of poor-man’s orcs on his heels, he very well has the right. You can shut your cakehole while you find him a way out.
In their attempt to reach the peak, Saphira and Eragon find out the hard way that it’s balls-ass cold up there and the atmosphere’s too thin for them to breathe. Saphira gets them down safely, but Eragon blacks out from a lack of oxygen and then laments the fact that they can’t cross the mountains and would have to leave the same way they came in.
Why did we run out of air? How can we have it down here, but not up above?
I don’t know, but I’ll never dare to fly so close to the sun again. We should remember this experience. The knowledge may be useful if we ever have to fight another Rider.
Hooray for clunky foreshadowing! Now, however Paolini handles it, he’s screwed himself. Either he uses it later and it becomes very obvious what he was doing, or he never uses it and this aside is completely pointless. Good job, dude. Also, that sounds like something Brom should have warned him against. I mean, the man can beat him half to death with a stick but he can’t say “Yo, don’t fly too high or you’ll die, kid”? Did he think the lesson wouldn’t stick unless Eragon almost died?
Speaking of Brom, Eragon has apparently been gifted with a memory like a sieve, because he attempts to slow down the Urgals by creating a giant wall of mist, drains so much of his strength that he can’t even sit upright, and only remembers after the fact that Brom told him distance affects magic and how much energy you use. Saphira scolds him for it, and I can’t help liking her a little bit in this scene. Then again, all you need to do in this book for me to like you is tell Eragon off for being an idiot. (I guess it wouldn’t have done any good for Brom to tell him not to fly too high, anyway – Eragon could get his hand chopped off pulling a stupid stunt like this and still not learn his lesson.)
We also learn that these are Kull, “elite of the Urgals.” Eight-foot-tall monsters that can run for days without tiring and still fight afterward, who “never leave their caves except for war” – gee, that doesn’t sound like the Uruk-hai or anything, does it? This is a totally original Always Chaotic Evil race* that is not influenced by Tolkien in any way, shape, or form! Also there are giant wolves in the forest, apparently.
“I know you can’t enter the forest, but could you circle above me and the horses? That should keep these beasts away. Otherwise there may only be enough left of me to roast in a thimble.”
“Humor, Murtagh?” asked Eragon, a quick smile coming to his face.
Uh, Eragon? That’s not humor. ‘Humor’ implies he said something funny. It’s not a synonym for hyperbole.
Arya’s not doing so well, and Murtagh says they should really fly ahead to the Varden if they want to save her, but Eragon insists that he won’t leave Murtagh behind. So glad her life is so important to him. Also, why the fuck won’t they leave the damn horses behind already?! If they’d set the horses loose earlier and just had Saphira fly them to the Varden, they wouldn’t have to deal with this stupid situation! It’s not like the horses are vital to the plot (just the word count).
And then, of course, Eragon has to shove this in Murtagh’s face:
“Help me save her. We can still do it. Consider it a life for a life – atonement for Torkenbrand’s death.”
It is not your place to make Murtagh atone for anything, you self-righteous little shit. You do not get to decide what he atones for or how he does it. Jesus tap-dancing Christ on a cracker, this kid is taking the law-enforcement role of the Riders a little too seriously for someone who joined up less than six months ago. How about you figure out your own morality first before you go trying to push it on others? And while you’re at it, maybe stop freaking out and acting like Arya’s life is worth exactly as much as the life of a guy who wanted to sell all of you into slavery?
Murtagh storms off, clearly as irritated with Eragon’s moralizing as I am, and Eragon asks Saphira if they could drop Arya off with the Varden and rescue Murtagh afterward. She shoots that down, pointing out that they’re going to be none too pleased to find an army of Urgals on their doorstep. They decide that instead they’ll drop boulders on the Urgals to slow them down. Not a bad idea. It doesn’t stop them completely, but it does let Murtagh stay ahead of them. As night falls, they reach the waterfall where the Varden are supposed to be located, and Murtagh catches up with them. Unsurprisingly, he’s not pleased that there’s no way out of the valley, and his only options are the Varden or the Urgals. And while he’s freaking out, our wise and noble hero decides that now, while the enemy is bearing down on them, is the best time to grill him about his issues:
“What’s your quarrel with the Varden? It can’t be so terrible that you must keep it hidden even now. Would you rather fight the Kull than reveal it? How many times will we go through this before you trust me?”
I don’t know, how many times are you going to berate him for choosing to kill instead of being killed? How often are you going to press him to reveal what he clearly doesn’t want to and you have no right to demand? How long before you learn to respect other people’s boundaries – oh wait, that’s never.
Finally Murtagh turned to Eragon. His breathing was hard and fast, like that of a cornered wolf. He paused, then said with a tortured voice, “You have a right to know. I . . . I am the son of Morzan, first and last of the Forsworn.”
*GASP* What a tweest!
Yeah, even if you didn’t predict this specific plot point, Murtagh’s pretty obviously got “Tortured Past” tattooed on his forehead. And we’ll find out more about it next chapter.
* Yes, I know that later they join up with the Varden. For the purposes of this book, from the POV of our main character, they’re Always Chaotic Evil. Considering the way he handles the plot later on, I highly doubt that Paolini planned for the Urgals to join the “good” side.
Omskivar Reviews 