“Now, of all times?” exclaimed Eragon, appalled. “Is it really that bad?”

Orik scowled. “It is worse. Tensions between the clans are higher than they have ever been in living memory. Hrothgar’s death and Nasuada’s invasion of the Empire have served to inflame passions, aggravate old rivalries, and lend strength to those who believe it is folly to cast our lot with the Varden.”

“How can they believe that when Galbatorix has already attacked Tronjheim with the Urgals?”

“Because,” said Orik, “they are convinced it is impossible to defeat Galbatorix, and their argument holds much sway with our people. Can you honestly tell me, Eragon, that if Galbatorix were to confront you and Saphira this very instant, that the two of you could best him?”

Eragon’s throat tightened. “No.”

“I thought not. Those who are opposed to the Varden have blinded themselves to Galbatorix’s threat. They say that if we had refused shelter to the Varden, if we had not accepted you and Saphira into fair Tronjheim, then Galbatorix would have had no reason to make war on us. They say that if we just keep to ourselves and remain hidden in our caves and tunnels, we shall have nothing to fear from Galbatorix. They do not realize that Galbatorix’s hunger for power is insatiable and that he will not rest until all of Alagaësia lies at his feet.” Orik shook his head, and the muscles in his forearms bunched and knotted as he pinched the ax blade between his wide fingers. “I will not allow our race to cower in tunnels like frightened rabbits until the wolf outside digs his way in and eats us all. We must continue fighting out of the hope that somehow we can find a way to kill Galbatorix. And I will not allow our nation to disintegrate into a clan war. With circumstances as they are, another dûrgrimstvren would destroy our civilization and possibly doom the Varden as well.” His jaw set, Orik turned toward Eragon. “For the good of my people, I intend to seek the throne myself. Dûrgrimstn Gedthrall, Ledwonnû, and Nagra have already pledged their support to me. However, there are many who stand between me and the crown; it will not be easy to garner enough votes to become king. I need to know, Eragon, will you back me in this?”

Crossing his arms, Eragon walked from one tree to the next and then back again. “If I do, my support might turn the other clans against you. Not only will you be asking your people to ally themselves with the Varden, you will be asking them to accept a Dragon Rider as one of their own, which they have never done before and I doubt they will want to now.”

“Aye, it may turn some against me,” said Orik, “but it may also gain me the votes of others. Let me be the judge of that. All I wish to know is, Will you back me? . . . Eragon, why do you hesitate?”

Eragon stared at a gnarled root that rose out of the granite by his feet, avoiding Orik’s eyes. “You are concerned about the good of your people, and rightly so. But my concerns are broader; they encompass the good of the Varden and the elves and everyone else who opposes Galbatorix. If . . . if it is not likely you can win the crown, and there is another clan chief who could, and who is not unsympathetic to the Varden—”

“No one would be a more sympathetic grimstnzborith than I!”

“I’m not questioning your friendship,” Eragon protested. “But if what I said came to pass and my support might ensure that such a clan chief won the throne, for the good of your people and for the good of the rest of Alagaësia, shouldn’t I back the dwarf who has the best chance of succeeding?”

In a deadly quiet voice, Orik said, “You swore a blood-oath on the Knurlnien, Eragon. By every law of our realm, you are a member of Dûrgrimst Ingeitum, no matter how greatly others may disapprove. What Hrothgar did by adopting you has no precedent in all of our history, and it cannot be undone unless, as grimstborith, I banish you from our clan. If you turn against me, Eragon, you will shame me in front of our entire race and none will ever trust my leadership again. Moreover, you will prove to your detractors that we cannot trust a Dragon Rider. Clan members do not betray each other to other clans, Eragon. It is not done, not unless you wish to wake up one night with a dagger buried in your heart.”

“Are you threatening me?” asked Eragon, just as quietly.

Orik swore and banged his ax against the granite again. “No! I would never lift a hand against you, Eragon! You are my foster brother, you are the only Rider free of Galbatorix’s influence, and blast it if I have not become fond of you during our travels together. But even though I would not harm you, that does not mean the rest of the Ingeitum would be so forbearing. I say that not as a threat but as a statement of fact. You must understand this, Eragon. If the clan hears you have given your support to another, I may not be able to restrain them. Even though you are our guest and the rules of hospitality protect you, if you speak out against the Ingeitum, the clan will see you as having betrayed them, and it is not our custom to allow traitors to remain within our midst. Do you understand me, Eragon?”

“What do you expect of me?” shouted Eragon. He flung his arms outward and paced back and forth in front of Orik. “I swore an oath to Nasuada as well, and those were the orders she gave me.”

“And you also pledged yourself to Dûrgrimst Ingeitum!” roared Orik.

Eragon stopped and stared at the dwarf. “Would you have me doom all of Alagaësia just so you can maintain your standing among the clans?”

“Do not insult me!”