Inheritance
Page 261
Nasuada scowled. “You can’t expect me to believe that, with all your power, you can’t protect the dragons here in Alagaësia.”
“Maybe I could, but we cannot depend on magic alone to safeguard the dragons. We need physical barriers; we need walls and moats and cliffs too high for man, elf, dwarf, or Urgal to scale. More important, we need the safety that only distance can provide. We have to make it so difficult to reach us that the challenges of the journey will discourage even our most determined enemies from attempting it. But ignore that. Assuming that I could protect the dragons, the problem would still remain of how to keep them from hunting livestock—ours as well as the dwarves’ and Urgals’. Do you want to have to explain to Orik why his flocks of Feldûnost keep disappearing, or do you want to have to keep appeasing angry farmers who have lost their animals? … No, leaving is the only solution.”
Eragon looked down at the fountain. “Even if there were a place for the eggs and the Eldunarí in Alagaësia, it wouldn’t be right for me to stay.”
“Why is that?”
He shook his head. “You know the answer as well as I. I’ve become too powerful. As long as I’m here, your authority—and that of Arya, Orik, and Orrin—will always be in doubt. If I asked them to, most everyone in Surda, Teirm, and your own kingdom would follow me. And with the Eldunarí to help me, there is no one who can stand against me, not even Murtagh or Arya.”
“You would never turn against us. That’s not who you are.”
“No? In all the years I shall live—and I might live a very long time—do you honestly believe that I will never choose to interfere with the workings of the land?”
“If you do, I’m sure it will be for a good reason, and I’m sure we will be grateful for your help.”
“Would you? No doubt I would believe my reasons were just, but that’s the trap, isn’t it? The belief that I know better and that because I have this power at my disposal, I have a responsibility to act.” Remembering her words from before, he echoed them back to her: “For the good of the many. If I was wrong, though, who could stop me? I could end up becoming Galbatorix, despite my best intentions. As it is, my power makes people tend to agree with me. I’ve seen it in my dealings throughout the Empire.… If you were in my position, would you be able to resist the temptation to meddle, just a little, in order to make things better? My presence here unbalances things, Nasuada. If I am to avoid becoming what I hate, then I have to leave.”
Nasuada lifted her chin. “I could order you to stay.”
“I hope you don’t. I would prefer to leave in friendship, not anger.”
“So you will answer to no one but yourself?”
“I will answer to Saphira and to my conscience, as I always have.”
The edge of Nasuada’s lip curled. “A man of conscience—the most dangerous kind in the world.”
Once more, the sounds of the fountain filled the gap in their conversation.
Then Nasuada said, “Do you believe in the gods, Eragon?”
“Which gods? There are many.”
“Any of them. All of them. Do you believe in a power higher than yourself?”
“Other than Saphira?” He smiled in apology as Nasuada frowned. “Sorry.” He thought seriously for a minute, then said, “Perhaps they exist; I don’t know. I saw … I’m not sure what I saw, but I may have seen the dwarf god Gûntera in Tronjheim when Orik was crowned. But if there are gods, I don’t think very highly of them for leaving Galbatorix on the throne for so long.”
“Perhaps you were the gods’ instrument for removing him. Did you ever consider that?”
“Me?” He laughed. “I suppose it could be, but either way, they certainly don’t care very much whether we live or die.”
“Of course not. Why should they? They are gods.… Do you worship any of them, though?” The question seemed of particular importance to Nasuada.
Again Eragon thought for a while. Then he shrugged. “There are so many, how could I know which ones to choose?”
“Why not the creator of them all, Unulukuna, who offers life ever lasting?”
Eragon could not help but chuckle. “As long as I don’t fall sick and no one kills me, I may live for a thousand years or more, and if I live that long, I can’t imagine I would want to continue on after death. What else can a god offer me? With the Eldunarí, I have the strength to do most anything.”
“The gods also provide the chance to see those we love again. Don’t you want that?”
He hesitated. “I do, but I don’t want to endure for an eternity. That seems even more frightening than someday passing into the void, as the elves believe.”
Nasuada appeared troubled. “So you do not hold yourself accountable to anyone other than Saphira and yourself.”
“Nasuada, am I a bad person?”
She shook her head.
“Then trust me to do what I believe is right. I hold myself accountable to Saphira and the Eldunarí and all of the Riders who are yet to be, and also to you and Arya and Orik and everyone else in Alagaësia. I need no master to punish me in order to behave as I ought. If I did, I would be no more than a child who obeys his father’s rules only because he fears the whip, and not because he actually means good.”
She gazed at him for several seconds. “Very well, then, I will trust you.”
“Maybe I could, but we cannot depend on magic alone to safeguard the dragons. We need physical barriers; we need walls and moats and cliffs too high for man, elf, dwarf, or Urgal to scale. More important, we need the safety that only distance can provide. We have to make it so difficult to reach us that the challenges of the journey will discourage even our most determined enemies from attempting it. But ignore that. Assuming that I could protect the dragons, the problem would still remain of how to keep them from hunting livestock—ours as well as the dwarves’ and Urgals’. Do you want to have to explain to Orik why his flocks of Feldûnost keep disappearing, or do you want to have to keep appeasing angry farmers who have lost their animals? … No, leaving is the only solution.”
Eragon looked down at the fountain. “Even if there were a place for the eggs and the Eldunarí in Alagaësia, it wouldn’t be right for me to stay.”
“Why is that?”
He shook his head. “You know the answer as well as I. I’ve become too powerful. As long as I’m here, your authority—and that of Arya, Orik, and Orrin—will always be in doubt. If I asked them to, most everyone in Surda, Teirm, and your own kingdom would follow me. And with the Eldunarí to help me, there is no one who can stand against me, not even Murtagh or Arya.”
“You would never turn against us. That’s not who you are.”
“No? In all the years I shall live—and I might live a very long time—do you honestly believe that I will never choose to interfere with the workings of the land?”
“If you do, I’m sure it will be for a good reason, and I’m sure we will be grateful for your help.”
“Would you? No doubt I would believe my reasons were just, but that’s the trap, isn’t it? The belief that I know better and that because I have this power at my disposal, I have a responsibility to act.” Remembering her words from before, he echoed them back to her: “For the good of the many. If I was wrong, though, who could stop me? I could end up becoming Galbatorix, despite my best intentions. As it is, my power makes people tend to agree with me. I’ve seen it in my dealings throughout the Empire.… If you were in my position, would you be able to resist the temptation to meddle, just a little, in order to make things better? My presence here unbalances things, Nasuada. If I am to avoid becoming what I hate, then I have to leave.”
Nasuada lifted her chin. “I could order you to stay.”
“I hope you don’t. I would prefer to leave in friendship, not anger.”
“So you will answer to no one but yourself?”
“I will answer to Saphira and to my conscience, as I always have.”
The edge of Nasuada’s lip curled. “A man of conscience—the most dangerous kind in the world.”
Once more, the sounds of the fountain filled the gap in their conversation.
Then Nasuada said, “Do you believe in the gods, Eragon?”
“Which gods? There are many.”
“Any of them. All of them. Do you believe in a power higher than yourself?”
“Other than Saphira?” He smiled in apology as Nasuada frowned. “Sorry.” He thought seriously for a minute, then said, “Perhaps they exist; I don’t know. I saw … I’m not sure what I saw, but I may have seen the dwarf god Gûntera in Tronjheim when Orik was crowned. But if there are gods, I don’t think very highly of them for leaving Galbatorix on the throne for so long.”
“Perhaps you were the gods’ instrument for removing him. Did you ever consider that?”
“Me?” He laughed. “I suppose it could be, but either way, they certainly don’t care very much whether we live or die.”
“Of course not. Why should they? They are gods.… Do you worship any of them, though?” The question seemed of particular importance to Nasuada.
Again Eragon thought for a while. Then he shrugged. “There are so many, how could I know which ones to choose?”
“Why not the creator of them all, Unulukuna, who offers life ever lasting?”
Eragon could not help but chuckle. “As long as I don’t fall sick and no one kills me, I may live for a thousand years or more, and if I live that long, I can’t imagine I would want to continue on after death. What else can a god offer me? With the Eldunarí, I have the strength to do most anything.”
“The gods also provide the chance to see those we love again. Don’t you want that?”
He hesitated. “I do, but I don’t want to endure for an eternity. That seems even more frightening than someday passing into the void, as the elves believe.”
Nasuada appeared troubled. “So you do not hold yourself accountable to anyone other than Saphira and yourself.”
“Nasuada, am I a bad person?”
She shook her head.
“Then trust me to do what I believe is right. I hold myself accountable to Saphira and the Eldunarí and all of the Riders who are yet to be, and also to you and Arya and Orik and everyone else in Alagaësia. I need no master to punish me in order to behave as I ought. If I did, I would be no more than a child who obeys his father’s rules only because he fears the whip, and not because he actually means good.”
She gazed at him for several seconds. “Very well, then, I will trust you.”
