The Truth About Lies (An Inheritance Cycle Fanfiction)

The Crossing of Bridges

King Orrin began to speak before I was completely gone, however, and I caught a bit of what he said. "She certainly is a talented sorceress, as you said," he whispered quietly. "But whether or not she will make a good queen remains to be seen."

"Only time will tell," Nasuada replied as the latch clicked and my heart stopped beating for a moment.

Queen?

They wanted me to be queen? But why? After all the harm my father has done to Alagaesia, why would they want me to rule after him? I wasn't fit to rule! I knew nothing about politics or leading a country. Nasuada would have made a far better queen than I. So what was their end game? Did they only wish to use me as a puppet for their purposes? To put on a good show for the commonfolk, but secretly they were the ones ruling in the background? None of this was making any sense, and my head was reeling with confusion as I returned to my room to escape the heat of the day.

***

'This place is unquestionably named appropriately,' I thought to myself as the Burning Plains came into my view. The whole place was a giant sulfur field. Wisps of smoke snaked into the sky from the ground, and a horrid stench permeated the air. We had stopped in Cithri the day before, but hadn't stayed long. This was our final destination, and soon our fates would be decided upon this burning ground. Through the haze of the smoke cloud, I could just glimpse the black and sludge-like water of the Jiet River. With the river at our backs, it would be easier to rout Galbatorix's soldiers—as long as he didn't send his men down the river.

"What's that horrid smell?" Gregorio spluttered at my side. I'd tied a strip of red cloth over my face to try and filter out the fumes, but it only did so much.

"These lands are full of peat," I explained, recalling the story I'd read in one of Brom's many books so many years ago. "Galbatorix's Thirteen Forsworn and the Riders of old met here in a ferocious battle. As the dragons spewed their flames, they unwittingly lit the peat on fire. There was so much of the mineral in the ground that the flames are still burning, creating a constant cloud of smoke a fumes. There are enough deposits there to keep it burning for hundreds of more years."

"How do you know all of this?" he asked in surprise.

"Books." The answer was simple enough, but it still caught him off guard. In a world where women were not often educated, it wasn't strange to me that he wouldn't think I could read.

Praetorian jerked his head restlessly, and I patted him on the neck to try and calm him. I knew he was suffering from the fumes as much as I, but soon we'd be in a tent where hopefully things wouldn't be so bad. Orrin's cavalry were already picketing their horses close to the river and setting up their tents. We stopped as well and started to unpack our things. Hundreds of men were raising the white-clothed tents over the scorched earth. I looked at my feet and saw black, orange, and sickly green-colored lichen sprouting out of the ground. It was certainly a foreboding place.

We waited around to be told where to go, and Gregorio was carted off with his unit. He threw me an apologetic glance over his shoulder as he marched away, and I just waved slowly. Now I was alone, with just Praetorian at my side. Suddenly, I missed Eragon terribly. Although it was still difficult for us to maintain our friendship, I still yearned for someone to talk to. Without Isabelle, I felt very morose. I looked up and saw another of Nasuada's guards coming straight for me, a determined expression on his face.

"Lady Tabatha?" he questioned.

"Yes." Was I being summoned again? For what purpose?

"Come with me, please." He turned quickly on his heel and strode further into the camp, his dark cloak flapping in the hot wind coming out of the vents in the ground. I followed quickly, leading Praetorian behind me. We weaved in and out of the camp that had seemingly sprouted up out of the ground like the oddly-colored lichen, dodging men running back and forth between the white tents. And then we passed by a huge, red tent with open flaps. I knew immediately that this was Nasuada's pavilion. But we hurried past it to a row of larger, cream-colored tents along the riverbank. At the very last tent on the right, the guard stopped and stood at attention by the opening.