Inheritance Spork, Chapter Five: Aftermath
So this chapter begins with Eragon resting on Saphira after the werecats have been recruited.
“I’m hungry!” he exclaimed.
Not quite as bad as “Sorry.” Brom apologised, but that’s what this reminds me of – which is never a good thing.
So, turns out they’re resting in the courtyard, watching as people (oh, sorry, I meant ‘men’ which Paolini specifies for some reason) clear away both bodies and fallen stones into carts.
Anyone else thinking “bring outcha deaaad!” right now?
Blödhgarm and four elves stood nearby, watching for danger.
“Oi!” someone shouted.
Ok, my thoughts on the use of “oi”. Paolini uses this word multiple times in this book, and I’m pretty sure some of those times it’s Roran saying it if it’s not another member of the Varden. So I’m assuming – read, guessing – that this is an attempt at making them sound rough and uncultured? Trouble with that is where I come from “oi” (or “oy”) is really common, so all this does for me personally is yank me right out of the story. That is never a good thing. (by the way, is Oi used at all in Brisingr?)
So the ‘someone’ turns out to be Roran after all! Behind him is Angela who is forced to walk/run to keep up with Roran. She has yarn in her hand. Dunno, perhaps it’s werecat bait?
“Where are you off to now?” Eragon asked as Roran stopped before him.
Um, sorry Eragon, Roran never said he was going anywhere, he just said “Oy!” (like a certain billy-bumbler whom I would much prefer to read about rather than these cardboard puppet characters.)
“To help secure the city and organize the prisoners.”
There’s your answer, I guess.
So Eragon praises Roran’s fighting ability, and vice-versa. Meanwhile Angela is knitting on the spot next to them, and Eragon asks about the whole cheep cheep thing.
An impish expression overtook her face, and she shook her head, her voluminous curls bouncing. “A story for another time.”
Translation: she’ll tell the story when Paolini needs some urgent padding. Oh, and slight spoilers it’s a completely not-funny, borderline-abusive deed on Angela’s part. IMHO.
Eragon doesn’t press the matter further, accompanied with more blah blah about Angela rarely explaining herself.
Roran asks Eragon where he’s bound to. Saphira answers for once.
We’re going to get some food, said Saphira, and nudged Eragon with her snout, her breath warm on him as she exhaled.
Quick question: why, if Eragon has super senses now, is he not reeling with the smell of her breath? She’s a meat eater; no matter how fastidious dragons may be about cleaning, her breath is still gonna smell really bad. Oh wait, she’s Saphira – she’s not allowed to have halitosis.
So Roran says his goodbyes and asks them to give his love to Katrina. Angela says her goodbyes too, she’s got to attend to a brewing potion and see if she can find Solembum’s mother. (What’s the bet her name’s gonna be something along the lines of Sadcheeks?)
She raised her hand to her brow, thumb and forefinger touching in a circle, and, in an overly cheerful voice, said, “Be seeing you!” And with that, she sailed off.
Eragon gets on Saphira and Paolini goes to the trouble of describing the sound her wings make as they unfold.
As Saphira lifted her wings overhead, Eragon could see the web of purplish veins that pulsed therein, each one becoming a hollow worm track as the flow of blood subsided between the beats of her mighty heart.
That’s not only kinda gross sounding, but Saphira’s veins aren’t the only purple thing in this chapter.
… Saphira … balanced for a moment on the merlons, the stones cracking between the points of her claws.
Dude, stop breaking things. You’re just causing more work for the poor people who have to clean it all away.
An acrid taste and smell assaulted Eragon, and his eyes smarted as Saphira passed through the thick layer of smoke that hung over Belatona like a blanket of hurt, anger, and sorrow.
Did somebody say ‘purple’? So anyway once Saphira’s actually comfortably aloft she catches some thermals and Eragon admires some approaching storm clouds. Um, no caution at all? Oh wait, he’s the guy strong enough to close a dragon’s wing when she herself can’t manage it. Never mind. He also takes the time to feel pretty l33t because “few people had ever had the chance to fly on a dragon.” Well whoop-de-doo to you, Eragon Shadeslayer Shu’turgal Argetlam Sociopath.
Saphira heads towards the Varden’s mess area. The storm wind is already approaching.
The shifting grass reminded him of the fur of a great green beast.
What? What does that have to do with anything?
A horse screamed as Saphira swept over the rows of tents to the clearing that was reserved for her.
Way to go not upsetting valuable members of the Varden’s cavalry.
Saphira lands powerfully, knocking Eragon forward. She then apologises. What?! Eragon is already a God-mode Sue, he’s not injured, what’s the point of apologising even as she did her best to land gently? I mean, was there any point to this?
Katrina comes over, with her long auburn hair and baby bump. She wants to know what’s going on.
Eragon mentions the werecats – which Katrina already knows about – and then passes on Roran’s love. Katrina is still worried because she felt something from her enchanted ring (the one Eragon gave her during Brisingr, if I remember correctly)
But Eragon shrugs it off and lets her know he’s fine. “Scared me half to death, though.”
Understandably, Katrina is not calmed down by this. I know that if my boyfriend and I were married with magical rings that let us know when the other was in danger I’d demand a complete rundown of everything that happened from a witness, but maybe I’m just a shrew because all that Katrina does is struggle with her visible emotions for a few seconds, mask them, and then get over it with a “at least you’re both safe” cliche.
The next (also chapter ending) bit must be seen to be believed:
They parted, and Eragon and Saphira made their way to one of the mess tents close to the Varden’s cookfires. There they gorged themselves on meat and mead while the wind howled around them and bursts of rain pummeled the sides of the flapping tent.
As Eragon bit into a slab of roast pork belly, Saphira said, Is it good? Is it scrumptious?
“Mmm,” said Eragon, rivulets of juice running down his chin.
I have no words… Actually, yes, I do. I talked about this bit before in a previous post, but I must recap. See, this bit is just so revolting the moment I read it I thought of the Meat Series by kippurbird. It’s like Paolini wrote his own meatfic into the actual story!
Furthermore, wonder why Saphira’s dialogue is so out of character? That’s because it’s actually Gollum’s dialogue – Paolini completely ripped from Tolkien – AGAIN!!
Thirdly, I didn’t read Brisingr all the way through, so is there any point in time during that book in which Eragon decides to start eating meat again?