The Truth About Lies (An Inheritance Cycle Fanfiction)

Kidnappings and Conclaves

"Rest assured," he said firmly, "I will consult with you as needed, but my decisions, as ever, remain my own." It was the best answer he could have given without appearing weak, but it did not seem to satisfy King Orrin.

"Forgive me if I'm being blunt—" I did not think the king was asking for forgiveness at all, based upon the smug look he wore, "—but I find that hard to believe. It is a well known fact that you are an adopted brother to King Orik, and are familiar with the elves." He glanced over at Arya in a very suggestive manner before continuing. "And what's more than that, you are known to have been a consort of the king's own daughter." My face grew hot in anger and embarrassment at his implication. "She has only just returned to us after being captured and held in Urû'baen; and with a dragon, nonetheless! What's to say she isn't being employed by her father to spy on us at this very moment?" Before, I had been content to let Eragon wage this battle of wills on his own. But now King Orrin had drug me into it, and I would not lay down quietly as my loyalties were called into question.

"Eragon himself searched my mind and found me to be trustworthy," I growled threateningly. "Are you suggesting that the solemn oath of a Rider is no longer to hold any weight amongst kings? My father murdered my mother in cold blood; how could you ever think I would be on his side?"

"Clearly, Galbatorix has ways of influencing people to do things they normally wouldn't, as evidenced by the Red Rider, whom I'm told was forced into his service by black magic. It is a valid concern to worry that the same has been done to you, Princess." I hurried across the room, aiming to throttle him right then and there, but Eragon lunged forward and grabbed hold of my arm, stopping me from making a decision I might have come to regret.

"I hate my father," I spat, "with every fiber of my being. And if you ever call me 'Princess' again—"

"Are you threatening me, Lady Tabatha?" His eyes were cold as stone, boring into my skull with determination.

Be careful, Tabby, Amera said from behind me, hissing softly. I do not trust this two-leg. I assured her I would be fine, and that I knew what I was doing, before continuing.

"Not at all, Your Majesty," I replied with as much poison as I could muster. "I am making you a promise. Do not ever disrespect me like that again. My dragon is quite temperamental, and I cannot be held accountable for her actions." That seemed to rattle him, for I saw a slight shudder make its way over his body. I tried to mask the small smile of triumph that was threatening to reveal itself on my face, and I only barely succeeded.

"Well," Arya intoned stoically, "I hope that has been made quite clear. Tabatha is on our side; that is the end of it." I looked over at her and gave a small nod of thanks for her support, which was more than I was expecting from her.

"Very well," King Orik grumbled in his gravelly voice, "but the question still remains: what are we to do without Nasuada?"

"We have no other choice," Eragon said. "We must go to Urû'baen and face Galbatorix head on. Tabatha has spent time there; she will be able to give us insider knowledge we never had before."

"That's all well and good," Orrin snapped, "but what is your plan once we get there?" Did this man never give up?

"We have the Dauthdaert—"

"Yes, yes, but that didn't do much good in helping you stop Thorn, did it? I very much doubt that Galbatorix will let you anywhere near him or Shruikan with the lance. And let's face it, you are no match for that traitorous blackguard. You aren't even a match for your own brother, and he's been a Rider for less time than you have!" A heavy silence settled over the tent, and I could feel that there were seeds of doubt being sown in their minds, even Eragon's. "We went to war," Orrin continued, "with the promise that you would find a way to surmount Galbatorix's unnatural strength. Nasuada wove her pretty tales and told whatever lies she had to in order to assure us that you—a mere farmboy from the Spine—could do it. And yet..." He paused here, I assume for dramatic effect. "Here we are, about to face the most powerful magician in recorded history, and no closer to defeating him than when we first began!"

"Eragon will not be facing the king alone," I barked, growing tired of his opposition. "I will be with him."

"Excellent!" he exclaimed facetiously. "We have two inexperienced Riders against two extremely powerful ones. Forgive me, Lady Tabatha, if I don't see how you believe we can win."

"I may be inexperienced in the ways of war, but I have been trained practically since birth for one sole purpose: to kill Galbatorix. And that is what I aim to do."

"How?"

I stayed silent for a moment, choosing my words carefully. "Are you familiar with prophecies, King Orrin?" I asked pointedly. The question seemed to catch him off guard, for I saw him groping for a response as his mouth flopped like a fish gasping out of water.

"What on earth are you talking about?" he finally snapped. The irritation at being unnerved was plain on his face.

"I do believe I know what she is speaking of." The voice came from the werecat; Grimrr Halfpaw, as Eragon had explained later. All eyes in the tent shifted to the werecat king, who looked no more than a child. "We werecats travel this land far and wide, and pick up many tales along the way. Far to the east, a tribe of priestesses once lived, and there was a prophecy. That one day, a great evil would befall the land, and one of their own, who was blessed by their goddess, would rise up to vanquish him. Correct me if I am wrong, Tabatha, daughter of the Oathbreaker, but were not these priestesses renowned for their violet eyes."

"They were," I affirmed. "And you are correct about the prophecy. Ashola, the goddess, gave me Amera's egg so that I might defeat the king. We are no ordinary Rider and dragon."

"Nonsense and fairytales," Orrin said dismissively. "You will have to supply more than words to assure me."

"Have I not proved myself?" I demanded. "Upon the battlefield, did I not fight with every last ounce of my strength until we were victorious? Whatever the cost, I will find a way to finish his reign of terror and madness. Despite what you all may think, Galbatorix is not invulnerable. He is a powerful magician, yes, and he has cast thousands upon thousands of wards to protect himself. But there is always a crack in the armor. We just have to be clever enough to find the spell that will be his undoing."

"And if we cannot?" Orrin pressed further.

"Then we may as well accept that there is no way to defeat him, and he will rule as long as he sees fit." Silence pervaded the tent as the weight of my words sunk in. "But I for one will not stop searching for a way, even if I die trying. If the rest of you are not willing to commit to that, then I would ask you what you are even still doing here." Eragon came to my side and placed a hand on my shoulder.

"I will stand by you, Tabatha," he said quietly.

"And the elves will stand by the Riders, as it ought to be," Arya chimed in. Nar Garzhvog grumbled his assent, as did King Orik, and then all eyes were upon Orrin and Grimrr.

"Well," the werecat king sniffed haughtily, "I suppose we'll be there. Someone has to sneak past enemy lines, and it certainly won't be the dwarves in their bumbling armor." I smirked slightly at the werecat's cheekiness, and then looked to the King of Surda. He downed the liquid from the goblet in front of him and then wiped the little dribble of wine that had escaped off his chin.

"Very well," he said in a dark tone, "we will continue on to Urû'baen, even unto our deaths."