Chapter Four: The Ra'zac

Eragon was utterly frozen, like a deer who'd spotted its hunter. Primal fear crawled up his spine and though his brain was screaming at him to flee, he simply could not move. When the strangers were a few paces away, Murtagh, who had been shaking Eragon to make him move, got in between them and gave the cloaked men a look.

It was a look he'd only given twice before, but anyone who had seen it remembered that expression. When Murtagh was truly angry or someone threatened his family, his eyes turned cold and his face dark in such a manner that it was frightening. The last time he'd given that look to someone was when Sloan had pushed him too far. The time before that was when some older kids had bullied Eragon when the boy was just five.

No one hurt his little brother like that and got away with it.

Murtagh had terrorized them and sent the bullies fleeing back to their mothers. The strangers didn't have the same reaction, but his deadly threatening look gave them pause.

"Eragon! Murtagh!"

The strangers' heads whipped to the side with an uneasy hiss as Brom came into view. He only had to glance at the pair of cloaked figures before they spun around and bolted off, inhuman in their speed.

Eragon collapsed and sat down hard, eyes wide in shock as he sweated intensely. Murtagh knelt down beside him and held the boy's chin up so he could look his brother in the eyes. He patted the side of his face a few times to get his attention. "Eragon. Eragon, come back to us, little brother."

When Brom came over and Eragon couldn't stop from hyperventilating, Murtagh cursed and broadcast his thoughts to Thorn.

I need you to tell Saphira that Eragon needs her. He's had a nasty shock. Also, be on your guard. There are some strange folks in town. They're dangerous.

I understand, Thorn replied. We will watch out for the strange ones once Saphira has calmed your nest-mate.

Eragon was unable to respond to anyone until Saphira's clear voice rang into his head, gentle and soothing.

Eragon?

Saphira?

Yes. Little one, breathe. You must calm yourself. The danger has passed.

I'm sorry, I…I just couldn't do anything. It's as though my body was paralyzed…

I know. I felt your fear, but fear no more. Brom and Murtagh are with you now. You are safe, and they are worried for you. Breathe, Eragon…

Eragon did as she said and managed to get himself under control. When he finally calmed down, he looked up at Brom and Murtagh. "I'm okay."

"Good," Murtagh grunted, though he seemed relieved. He glared down the road that the strangers had vanished to. "Who were those men?"

"They were not men," Brom said grimly and glanced around town for any suspicious activity. He hoisted Eragon up to his feet and after ensuring the boy could stand up, led them to his house.

The old man dug through the clutter in the only locked chest he kept for his valuables. He pulled out two swords and passed one to each of the boys. "I'm going to have to teach you both how to use these, but for now, let's get out of town. We need to take refuge elsewhere. They will find out where you live quickly enough."

"What about Garrow?" Murtagh demanded.

Brom grunted. "Let me worry about Garrow. You two must get to your dragons and retreat into the Spine until I call for your return. These are not enemies you can fight right now."

"Won't you need these swords to fight them?"

"I've got a few more tricks up my sleeve. Both of you go. Now!"

The moment they were a safe distance from Carvahall, Eragon and Murtagh met their dragons in the woods. Saphira and Thorn were both agitated, growling at the slightest sounds.

They were a few miles from the farm when Murtagh heard a twig snap and stiffened. Thorn.

Yes?

Can you and Saphira fly with us riding you? Are you both strong enough for that?

We shall do what we must.

We're flying. Now!

Murtagh hadn't even finished speaking to his dragon before he jumped onto Thorn's back, careful to avoid the dangerous spikes. Eragon did the same as Thorn communed with Saphira, then the two dragons lunged skyward.

Eragon caught a glimpse of black and yelped as a sword missed Saphira's wing by mere inches. She gave a furious roar and slapped the attacker with her tail, but he was unfazed. When the stranger jumped up, nearly twenty feet for another stab, he took the still sheathed blade Brom had given him and managed to parry the attack. The two strangers screamed in rage as the dragons got clear of the trees and flew away from them.

Just barely in time.

Adrenaline pumped through both Saphira and Thorn as they flew as fast as they could, putting distance between them and the assailants. Eragon sent Saphira an image of a large clearing deep in the Spine he visited during hunts. She deemed it far away enough that they would be safe and led the way for Thorn and Murtagh.

So the dragons flew through the day and almost into the night.

Murtagh was curled up against Thorn, wincing in pain. Not from the biting cold air, but from his torn legs. Next to them, Eragon was in the same predicament. None of them had taken into account what would happen to the Riders' legs when they flew the dragons without any padding. Saphira and Thorn's hard scales had rubbed their flesh raw, the result being very painful and bloody.

He groaned, tearing part of his shirt to use as a makeshift bandage. "Damn. We need saddles."

"I hope Garrow is okay," Eragon muttered. "Brom too. Can he really handle those two? What were they, anyhow?"

Murtagh shook his head, unable to answer.

They were evil.

Thorn snorted a puff of black smoke, a deep growl in his chest.

Brom called them Ra'zac, Saphira said. We know not what they are, but the mad-oath-breaker-king uses them to find dragons. But they are not human. They are foul-poisoned-breath creatures.

And we left Brom to protect Garrow and fight them? Eragon asked incredulously. They need help! You saw how high that Ra'zac could jump! How fast it was! Garrow can't fight them and Brom is outnumbered! He didn't even bring a sword for himself!

There's nothing we can do right now, little one, she reasoned. We must have faith that old-white-one can defend himself. He is not weak. You and Murtagh would be a hindrance to him as you are now.

But… Eragon sagged and dropped his head in defeat. He took a breath and tried again. We're going back tomorrow.

Brom told you to wait for his call, Saphira reminded him.

I'm not going to just sit here while Brom and Garrow might be dead! We go back at first light.

Your stubbornness is like a tick's, she growled. You cling on and on until you are crushed and dead. Must you be crushed before you see reason?

He didn't answer her and opened his mouth, but before Eragon could get a word out Murtagh grunted. "We go back tomorrow."

Eragon was surprised momentarily. He nodded. "I agree."

Saphira just rolled her eyes while Thorn scoffed. Clearly, the dragons weren't pleased by their Riders' lack of wisdom. Still, they decided they would do so in order to make certain Brom and Garrow were safe at least.

Eragon was plagued with nightmares that night of the Ra'zac killing those he cared about. First Garrow, then Brom, Roran and Katrina were slain as well. Finally was Murtagh, Thorn, and Saphira.

His agitation was such that they left not two minutes after waking. Apparently, Murtagh had had similar visions in his sleep.

The moment the farm was in sight, both boys froze. A plume of black smoke was rising from their barn.

Fire was blazing as Saphira and Thorn landed. Eragon and Murtagh scrambled off of their dragons and roared at the top of their lungs. "Uncle! Brom!"

Saphira glared about and hissed. Their scent is here. The Ra'zac must have come.

Murtagh was digging through the wreckage of their house when he shouted. "Eragon! Here!"

He rushed over and found Garrow lying in the wreckage, his face pale and his body covered in burns. Eragon helped Murtagh pull their uncle out of the broken house, then checked for any signs of life.

A weak pulse fluttered beneath his fingers and Eragon gasped. "He's alive!"

"We need to get him to Carvahall," Murtagh decided.

The townspeople are here, Thorn said suddenly. We must fly.

You and Saphira take the swords and hide. We must stay with Garrow.

The two dragons took off and disappeared just as Horst and his son Albriech came rushing from the path to their farm on horseback.

"Eragon! Murtagh! Are you alright?!"

Eragon shouted back. "Garrow's hurt!"

Albriech stared at the destruction in alarm. "What happened here?"

"We don't know," Murtagh growled. "We were out hunting and then there was an explosion. This is what we found."

"Worry about what happened later," Horst ordered. "Albriech, take Garrow on my horse and get him to Gertrude, now. I'll get the boys back to Carvahall on foot."

He glanced around the destroyed farm and paused. "What sort of beast left these?"

For a moment, Eragon thought he'd found Saphira's footprints or Thorn's, but then he froze when he spotted the track Horst had pointed out. Whatever had left it was many times the size of their dragons, and Eragon shuddered to think what sort of monsters would carry the Ra'zac.

Not long after they arrived at Carvahall, Eragon's legs buckled from his injuries. Murtagh was stubbornly still standing, but once Horst inspected the wounds they had attained from their flight, the blacksmith sent them both straight to Gertrude.

She had just finished caring for Garrow and didn't hesitate to put some proper bandages on the two brothers. They were exhausted and passed out into her patient beds the moment she had finished wrapping the wounds.

When Murtagh woke, Eragon was not in the room. Gertrude was washing some cloths that she used for her patients. He sat up and got her attention.

"Oh, you've woken up. Good!" she said. "I just sent Eragon over to Horst's. I'm keeping Garrow there for now and he's gotten some food made for you two. Can you stand?"

Murtagh answered by getting up and despite the pain, he stiffly walked out of the healer's house. Fortunately, Gertrude's home was right across from Horst's and so he did not have to walk far.

Once he stepped inside, Eragon glanced over and his pale face brightened a little. "You're awake."

"You're eating," Murtagh noted the hot food in front of Eragon and grunted. "You didn't eat all of it yourself, did you?"

"Of course not!" he protested.

"Oh, settle down, you two," Elaine walked out of the kitchen with another bowl of food for Murtagh and a smile on her face. "Here you are. Both of you have had a rough time of it the last few days, so eat up and make sure you rest."

Murtagh knew better than to argue with her. Horst's wife was even more stubborn than the blacksmith himself.

After a well-appreciated hot meal, Murtagh set his bowl down and glanced up as Horst walked downstairs. He nodded to the blacksmith. "How's Garrow?"

"Fighting," Horst sighed. "Gertrude just got back in there with him. He's got a fever that just won't break and his injuries exceed both of yours by a great margin. You told me when we found you that you both had been hunting when the house was destroyed?"

"Yes," Eragon replied, but his head was down. "We've gone out a lot lately in the early mornings to get some extra game. We were heading home when we heard the explosion and ran back to see the house on fire…"

Horst nodded and scratched his beard. "You didn't see anyone besides your uncle?"

"No one," Murtagh growled. "But I'd bet it was those two strangers that did it."

The blacksmith's eyes darkened. "I'm inclined to agree with you. They were seen around town the day before this happened. Whoever they are, they are not friendly to us. But whatever tore your house apart was much bigger than either of them. Some beast I have never seen in my lifetime. Does that sound familiar in any way to you two?"

They both shook their head no, and Horst sighed. "I don't like this. There's too much we don't know, but for now, Garrow's health is our first priority. Oh yes, before I forget, I sent Baldor out this morning to give Roran the news in Therinsford."

Eragon froze. He hadn't even thought about Roran this whole time. Garrow was Roran's father- he should have been told immediately.

Horst placed a hand on Eragon's shoulder and spoke gently. "Get back to Gertrude's and get some rest. Or if you want to stay closer to your uncle, there's an extra bedroom here. You may use it if you so choose."

Murtagh dipped his head. "Thanks, Horst."

He grunted in reply and then went outside, leaving Eragon and Murtagh sitting there in silence.

"Do you think Brom is okay?" Eragon asked quietly.

Murtagh shook his head. "I don't know, Eragon. I just don't know."

Two days later, the worst happened.

Eragon awoke to hear people talking quietly in the next room over. He got up and entered the hallway. The moment he did so, he forgot how to breathe. People were crowding the doorway to Garrow's room. He pushed past them and found what he'd been dreading.

Garrow lay in the bed, dressed in clean clothes. He could have been sleeping, but Eragon knew better the moment he spotted Murtagh sitting beside their uncle. His face was downcast so that dark hair covered his eyes, but Eragon glimpsed a shine on his face that could only be tears. Katrina was sitting across from Murtagh and looked up as Eragon walked in. She stood up and went over to him, leading the boy back to his room.

There, Eragon cried. Katrina wrapped the boy in her arms and spoke soft words to him, doing what she could to soothe Eragon until he had cried himself to an exhausted, troubled sleep.

Murtagh left Garrow's room shortly after Eragon and went outside. He let the cold air wash over him, clearing his head of sorrow only to replace it with rage.

The Ra'zac work for the king? Very well, then. He's made the first move. He killed Garrow. Now I know which side to choose.

Murtagh's fist collided with a tree, cracking his knuckles and causing them to bleed as his teeth ground together in his fury.

We're going to take his head!