Disclaimer: I don't own Eragon or related characters, they belong to Christopher Paolini.
A.N. That last chapter was certainly rather long wasn't it? If anyone's interested I've stretched four of the original chapters into six of my own, I'm quite pleased with myself actually.
Chapter 7
Eragon was alone in the room when he woke. Assuming the other two were downstairs, Eragon washed his face put away his bedding. Just as he finished pulling on his boots, Bree came through the door carrying a bowl of mush, which she handed to Eragon.
"Brom's downstairs grilling the patrons again, said to wait up here" she sighed, sitting on the edge of the bed. Eragon joined her, wolfing down his breakfast. As the minutes ticked passed, Bree reached down to her pack, resting against the side of the cot, and pulled out one of her books, 'Ella Enchanted.' Eragon leaned back against the wall.
Saphira? What are you doing? He called out to her.
You sound bored, came the reply.
I am. Brom told us to wait up here and Bree's reading.
It wouldn't do you any harm to get some reading practice in. you've been neglecting that part of your studies, she admonished.
I suppose, but I'd rather talk to you for a while.
Suit yourself, but I'm hunting so I might get a little distracted.
Eragon gave an exasperated sigh. Fine, he groaned, I'll go read.
He looked up to find Bree staring at him, a curious expression on her face. "What did you just do?"
"What?" Now he looked confused.
"I felt something," she gestured to her forehead, "in here, what did you just do."
"Nothing, I was talking to Saphira."
"Do it again," she commanded, closing her eyes. Eragon shrugged his shoulders, opened his mind and called to Saphira again.
Bree said she might have felt us talking.
Really? That's interesting. What does Brom think?
He doesn't know; he's still downstairs.
"I can definitely feel something," she said, eyes still closed, "hold on a moment." Bree was searching her mind for the origin of the feeling, it was near that little bit of her consciousness that held her magic but it seemed to be coming from the empty space surrounding the bubble of power. Wait, she thought. Could it really be that simple? Cautiously she let her mind slip into the void, reaching for the thread that seemed so much more tangible from here, following it until she felt a change. She dove forward, suddenly hearing three voices in her mind; hers and two that shouldn't have been there. Wow. She thought, hearing Eragon's sharp intake of breath.
Bree? How? I can hear you, came a shocked sounding voice, unmistakable as Eragon's.
"I can hear you too!"
Well done hatchling, now try speaking only with your thoughts.
"Saphira? You sound-"
With your mind, encouraged the dragon.
Sorry. She tried again. You sound older than I was expecting. Is this actually working or am I just going insane and talking to myself?
It is most definitely working, Eragon replied. He had shuffled forward to where he was sitting directly in front of her, looking into her eyes as they spoke to each other.
Hey, can you see in my mind, I keep getting flashes of the room from your perspective; does my hair really look that? She finished off with trying to rearrange her hair. Can you look to the left a little bit? Thanks. She tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear to Eragon's exasperated sigh of "girls."
We heard that, rebuked Saphira, and no Bree, your mind is still perfectly secure, not even a hint that you're there aside from the sound of your voice.
Can you contact anyone like this? she asked, a wicked thought forming.
As long as you can get past their shields I don't see why not, said Eragon.
"How do I-" Sorry. How do I do that, get past a shield I mean? There was a moment of silence. Guys? You still there?
Yes, we're here, it's just that you went through our barriers without a problem. We didn't even notice you until we heard your voice.
Are you sure? I didn't feel anything like a wall, oh wait! She had just noticed a shimmer near where she had followed the thread from earlier. There is something here, like a distortion but I can pass through no problem.
I don't know what that is, maybe when Brom gets back he can have a guess, suggested Eragon. The wicked thought from before appeared again, this time as a scary looking grin, she rubbed her hands together. What? Why are you smiling like that? came Eragon's confused sounding voice.
"Follow me." Bree jumped up and dashed out the door into the hallway. Eragon followed her as she tiptoed quietly down the stairs, crouching with her as she peeked around the wall at the bottom of the stairs. Brom could be seen sitting at the bar listening to something the man beside him was saying. Bree focused on that empty space in her head and its dangling thread, can you still hear me?
Yes, we're both still here. There was a pause. Um, what are we doing?
Can you see Brom, over by the bar? Bree had moved into that blank space in her mind and found that she could feel individual little specks of light, focusing on Brom, she felt herself drawn to a specific speck. Nudging it, Bree found that it expanded, and there, before her, was the same shimmer that had encompassed Eragon's thoughts. Slowly, Bree slipped herself forward until she had passed through the distortion and found herself looking at the barman who had, until a moment ago been obscured to her and Eragon by Brom's back.
Psst! She whispered in her thoughts, thrilling when Brom visibly stiffened, Eragon noticing it too. She decided to have some fun; she deserved a little release after the past few days. Drawing on an accent she hissed, Shh! with her thoughts, he'll hear you. Changing the accent slightly she leant further around the wall focusing on Brom's back; I'm not the one being so loud. She protested to herself, arguing back and forth for a minute, making comments on what Brom was doing at the same time. He's looking this way. This is your fault. No, it's yours. Shh. He'll see you. Brom had set down his cup and was carefully scanning the room, concern marking his brow. Bree felt a laugh building. A giggle escaped her and Bree and Eragon froze as Brom's eyes slid in their direction and landed on their amused yet startled faces. He had been close enough to their hiding place to hear her make a noise. O-oh.
Brom stood, pushed his stool back under the bench of the bar and started towards them. Eragon? she called to him.
Yeah?
Run! With another giggle, Bree spun and fled back up the stairs, breaking into hysterical laughter as soon as she reached the small room. Eragon was close behind her, shutting the door quickly before collapsing next to her on the cot, laughing himself.
The door flew open, the teens freezing again. Brom seemed unsure of what was happening. Bree reached out with her mind again touching his, We learnt a new trick she thought to him apologetically.
Brom gave a relieved sigh, "I had thought someone had discovered us." He wiped a hand over face, rubbing at his beard. Suddenly he looked up, locking eyes with Bree. "You were in my mind." He stated, shocked, the demanded, "How?"
"I'm sorry for worrying you but I wanted to test it out first. I thought it might be fun. You did have some amusing reactions, though." She and Eragon then went on to explain how she had felt something when he had contacted Saphira.
"This is something I've never heard of before. You say you couldn't get through to her thoughts yourself Eragon?" Brom again confirmed the security of her natural defences when he couldn't get through himself, not even while she had her mind open and was talking with him and Eragon and Saphira. "What surprises me is that none of us noticed when you breached our minds. Any magic user can always tell when someone tries, yet we didn't notice you."
"I didn't even notice there was anything there at first until Eragon said much the same thing you just did. I had a look around my head and all I've been able to find is a distortion in the empty space around my magic."
Brom rubbed his chin for a moment, eventually saying, "Perhaps your defences also work in reverse, dissolving the one around the mind you are invading. I will need to think on this for a little while. We had best get moving." He stopped at a concern raised by Saphira that Bree's probing may have damaged their shields in some way or that communicating with her would at the same time leave them vulnerable to others. After a minute checking each other's defences, Brom claimed all was well and they left the relative safety of the inn for the bustling early morning traffic on the streets and the dangers of the hunt.
"I will be gone until late tonight. Here are some coins for food. Explore the city and enjoy yourselves, but stay unnoticed. Try and be back inside the inn before it becomes dark. These streets are even more dangerous at night." They promised him. "Avoid the palace and don't go anywhere without your bow Eragon, keep it strung." He turned to leave, but paused looking back at Bree. "Keep practicing with speaking with your thoughts, but contain yourself to Eragon, we don't know who might be on these streets or what they're capable of." She nodded and left them to their own devices.
They ambled through the streets, stopping to observe anything that interested them. There were many interesting stores, but none quite as exciting as Angela's herb shop in Teirm. At times, Eragon glared at the dark claustrophobic houses and wished, as Bree did, that they were free of the city. When they became hungry the purchased a loaf of bread and wedge of cheese each, sitting together on the street curb together to eat them. Later, in a far corner of Dras-Leona, they heard an auctioneer rattling off a list of prices. Curious they headed toward the voice and arrived at a wide opening between two buildings. Ten men stood on a waist high platform. Arrayed before them was a richly dressed crowd that was both colourful and boisterous. Where are the goods for sale? wondered Eragon, but Bree had already realised what she was seeing and pulled gently on Eragon's arm.
"Let's keep going," she whispered, trying to pull him away.
Just as Eragon had made to follow her, the auctioneer finished his list and motioned for a young man behind the platform to join him, Eragon stopped, horrified. The man had awkwardly climbed up, chains dragging at his hands and feet. "And here we have our first item," proclaimed the auctioneer. "A healthy male from the Hadarac Desert, captured just last month, and in excellent condition. Look at those arms and legs; he's strong as a bull! He'd be perfect as a shield bearer, or if you don't trust him for that, hard labour. But let me tell you, lords and ladies, that would be a waste. He's bright as a nail, if you can get him to talk a civilised tongue."
The crowd laughed and Eragon ground his teeth in fury. His lips started to form a word that would free the slave, and his arm, newly liberated from the splint, rose. The mark on his palm shimmered. "Don't, Eragon. Please, let's just go. There's nothing we can do," Bree said, pulling his arm harder. Eragon was about to release the magic when he realised she was right, He'd never get away! The slave would be caught before he reached the city walls. He would only make the situation worse if he tried to help. He lowered his arm and quietly cursed. Think! This is how you got into trouble with the Urgals.
He watched helplessly as the slave was sold to a tall, hawk-nosed man. The next slave was a tiny girl, no more than six years old, wrenched from them arms of her crying mother. As the auctioneer started the bidding, Eragon forced himself to walk away; rigid with fury and outrage, he let Bree lead him down the street until they could no longer hear the crowd behind them. It was several blocks before the weeping was inaudible. I'd like to see a thief try to cut my purse right now, he thought grimly, almost wishing it would happen. He noticed Bree wiping at her eyes and, removing her hand from his, put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her into a half hug.
This is the sort of thing I could stop by fighting the Empire, he realised. With Saphira by my side I could free those slaves. I've been graced with special powers; it would be selfish of me not to use them for the benefit of others. If I don't, I might as well not be a rider at all.
It was a while before they stopped and took stock of their bearings, surprised to find themselves before the cathedral. Its twisted spires were covered with statues and scrollwork. Snarling gargoyles crouched along the eaves. Fantastic beasts writhed on the walls, and heroes and kings marched along their bottom edges, frozen in cold marble. Ribbed arches and tall stained-glass windows lined the cathedral's sides, along with columns of differing sizes. A lonely turret helmed the building like a mast. Bree felt it was all very over-the-top, a mix of styles that seemed to clash in most areas.
Recessed in shadow at the cathedral's front was an iron-bound door inlaid with a row of silver script that Eragon recognized as the ancient language. As best he could tell, it read: May thee who enter here understand thine impermanence and forget thine attachments to that which is beloved.
The entire building sent shivers down there spines. There was something menacing about it, as if it were a predator crouched in the city, waiting for its next victim. Bree couldn't stop thinking of the many people who had been maimed or killed within its walls. She was so preoccupied trying to dispel the images that she failed to notice Eragon leave her side.
A broad row of steps led to the cathedral's entrance. Eragon solemnly ascended them and stopped before the door. I wonder if I can go in. Almost guiltily he pushed on the door. It swung open smoothly, gliding on oiled hinges. He turned to see Bree running up the steps after him and stepped inside holding, the door open for her.
"Eragon, no," she whispered. Eragon wasn't listening. The silence of a forgotten tomb filled the cathedral. The air was chill and dry. Bare walls extended to a vaulted ceiling that was so high Eragon felt no taller than an ant. Stained-glass windows depicting scenes of anger, hate and remorse pierced the walls, while spectral beams of light washed sections of the pews with transparent hues, leaving the rest in shadow. His hands were shaded a deep blue.
Between the windows stood statues with rigid, pale eyes. He returned their stern gazes, then slowly trod up the centre row, afraid to break the quiet. His leather boots padded noiselessly on the polished stone floor.
The altar was a great slab of stone devoid of adornment. A solitary finger of light fell upon it, illuminating motes of golden dust floating in the air. Behind the altar, the pipes of a wind organ pierced the ceiling and opened themselves to the elements. The instrument would play its music only when a gale rocked Dras-Leona.
Out of respect, Eragon knelt before the altar and bowed his head. He did not pray but paid homage to the cathedral itself. The sorrows of the lives it had witnessed, as well as the unpleasantness of the elaborate pageantry that played out between its walls, emanated from the stones. It was a forbidding place, bare and cold. In that chilling touch, though, came a glimpse of eternity and perhaps the powers that lay there.
Bree was feeling panic rise in her chest, she kept close to Eragon shielding her back against nearby walls and pews, shooting furtive glances into the shadows. As Eragon knelt, she rushed forwards catching him but the shoulder, "we need to leave, now!" she hissed, trying to pull him to his feet. As Eragon turned to look at her he froze and his heart jumped, hammering like a drum.
Behind Bree, framed in the light pouring in from the cathedral's entrance, stood the Ra'zac, watching them. Their swords were drawn, keen edges bloody in a crimson light. A sibilant his came from the smaller Ra'zac. Neither of them moved.
Rage welled up in Eragon, fear in Brianna. They had chased the Ra'zac for so many weeks that the pain of their murderous deed had dulled within Eragon. But his vengeance was at hand. His wrath exploded like a volcano, fuelled even more by his pent-up fury at the slaves' plight. A roar broke from his lips, echoing like a thunderstorm as he snatched his bow from his back. Deftly, he fit an arrow to the string and loosed it. Two more followed an instant later.
The Ra'zac leapt away from the arrows with inhuman swiftness. They hissed as they ran up the aisle between the pews, cloaks flapping like raven wings. Eragon reached for another arrow, but caution stayed his hand. If they knew where to find us, Brom is in danger as well! I must warn him. Then, to Eragon's horror, a line of soldiers filed into the cathedral, and he glimpsed a field of uniforms jostling outside the doorway.
Eragon gazed hungrily at the charging Ra'zac, then swept around, searching for a means of escape. A vestibule to the left of the altar caught his attention. He grabbed Bree's hand, she was frozen in fear and staring at the rapidly approaching Ra'zac, then he bounded through the archway. Pulling her along behind him, they dashed down a corridor that led to a priory with a belfry. The patter of the Ra'zac's feet behind made them quicken their pace until the hall abruptly ended with a closed door.
Eragon pounded against it, trying to burst it open, but the wood was too strong. The Ra'zac were nearly upon them. Frantic, Bree pushed him out of the way as she sucked in a breath and barked "Jierda!" With a flash, the door splintered into pieces and fell to the floor, the adrenaline coursing through blood prevented Bree from collapsing to her knees at the cost the magic tolled on her body. They jumped into the small room and continued running.
They sped through several chambers, startling a group of priests. Shouts and curses followed them from those they had knocked to ground. The priory bell tolled and alarm. Eragon and Bree dodged through a kitchen, passed a pair of monks, then slipped through a side door. They skidded to a stop in a garden surrounded by a high brick wall devoid of handholds. There were no other exits.
Eragon turned to leave, but there was a low his a low hiss as the Ra'zac shouldered aside the door. Desperate, he followed Bree's lead and rushed at the wall, arms pumping. Magic could not help him here – if he used it to break through the wall, he would be too tired to run.
He jumped. Even with his arms outstretched, only his fingertips cleared the edge of the wall. The rest of his body smashed against the bricks, driving out his breath. Bree had been lucky and managed to grasp the low hanging branch of a tree, using it to pull herself up. Eragon gasped and hung there, struggling not to fall. The Ra'zac prowled into the garden, swinging their heads from side to side like wolfhounds sniffing for prey. Eragon sensed their approach as Bree helped him to scramble onto the top of the wall, their arms and shoulders shrieking in pain at the effort, dropping to the ground on the other side. They stumbled, Eragon regained his balance and, pulling Bree to her feet, darted down an alley just as the Ra'zac leapt over the wall. Galvanised they put on another burst of speed.
They ran for over a mile before they had stop and catch their breath, Bree holding a stitch in her side and wincing around the burning in her throat. Unsure if they had lost the Ra'zac, they found a crowded marketplace and dived under a parked wagon. How did they find us? wondered Eragon, panting. They shouldn't have known where we were…unless something happened to Brom! He reached out with his mind to Saphira and said, The Ra'zac are here, they've found us. We're all in danger! Check if Brom's alright. If he is, warn him and have him meet us at the inn. And be ready to fly here as fast as you can. We may need your help to escape.
She was silent, then said curtly, He'll meet you at the inn. Don't stop moving; you're in great danger.
"Brom." Gasped Bree, she had felt him contacting someone.
"He'll meet us at the inn. We need to keep moving." He said, rolling out from under the wagon. They hurried back to Golden Globe, quickly packed their belongings, saddled the horses, then led them to the street. Brom soon arrived, staff in hand, scowling dangerously. He swung onto Snowfire and asked, "What happened?"
"We were in the cathedral when the Ra'zac just appeared behind us," said Eragon, climbing onto Cadoc. "We ran back as fast as possible, but they could be here any second. Saphira will join us once we're out of Dras-Leona."
"It's my fault," came Bree's voice from atop the palomino mare, she had mounted as soon as her legs began to give out on her. "We shouldn't have gone, but I got distracted and by the time I'd noticed he'd moved, Eragon was already walking through the door."
"We have to get outside the city walls before they close the gates, if they haven't already," said Brom. "If they're shut, it'll be nigh impossible for us to leave. Whatever you do, don't get separated from me." They stiffened as ranks of soldiers marched down one end of the street.
Brom cursed lashed Snowfire with his reins, and galloped away. Eragon bent low over Cadoc and followed, putting Bree between himself and Brom. They nearly crashed several times during the wild, hazardous ride, plunging through masses of people that clogged the streets as they neared the city wall. When the gates finally came into view, Eragon pulled on Cadoc's reigns with dismay. The gates were already half closed, and a double line of pikemen blocked their way.
"They'll cut us to pieces!" he exclaimed, as Bree tried to right herself in Maybell's saddle; they had been going too fast.
"We have to try and make it," said Brom, his voice hard. "I'll deal with the men, but you have to keep the gates open for us." Eragon nodded, gritted his teeth, and dug his heels into Cadoc, Bree urging Maybell in a gallop behind him.
They ploughed toward the line of unwavering soldiers, who lowered their pikes towards the horses' chests and braced the weapons against the ground. The horses snorted with fear, but they held their place. Eragon heard the soldiers shout but kept his attention on the gates inching shut.
As they neared the pikes, Brom raised his hand and spoke. The words struck with precision; the soldiers fell to each side as if their legs had been cut from under them. The gap between the gates shrunk by the second. Hoping that the effort would not prove too much for him, Eragon drew on his power and shouted, "Du grind huildr!"
A deep grating sound emanated from the gates as they trembled, then ground to a stop. The crowd and guards fell silent, staring with amazement. With a clatter of the horses' hooves, Brom, Eragon and Bree shot out from behind Dras-Leona's wall. The instant they free, Eragon released the gates. They shuddered, then boomed shut.
Eragon swayed with the expected fatigue but managed to keep riding, catching Bree's concerned gaze on him before she re-focused on the road ahead of them. Brom watched them both with concern, hoping neither would fall from their mounts. Their flight continued through the outskirts of Dras-Leona as alarm trumpets sounded on the city wall. Saphira was waiting for them by the edge of the city, hidden behind some trees. Her eyes burned; her tail whipped back and forth. "Go, ride her," said Brom, taking Cadoc's reigns in his hand. "And this time stay in the air, no matter what happens to us. We'll head south. Fly nearby; I don't care if Saphira's seen." Eragon quickly mounted Saphira. As the ground dwindled away beneath him, he watched Brom and Bree gallop along the road.
Are you alright? asked Saphira.
Yes, said Eragon. But only because we were very lucky.
A puff of smoke blew from her nostrils. All the time we've spent searching for the Ra'zac was useless.
I know, he said, letting his head sag against her scales. If the Ra'zac had been the only enemies back there, I would have stayed and fought, but with all the soldiers on their side, it was hardly a fair match.
You understand that there will be talk of us now? This was hardly an unobtrusive escape. Evading the Empire will be harder than ever. There was an edge to her voice that he was unaccustomed to.
I know.
They flew low and fast over the road. Leona Lake receded behind them; the land became dry and filled with tough, sharp bushes and tall cactuses. Clouds darkened the sky. Lightning flashed in the distance. As the wind began to howl, Saphira glided steeply down to Brom. He stopped the horses, Bree reigning Maybell in beside him with the horse skittering slightly away from the dragon, and asked "what's wrong?"
"The wind's too strong."
"It's not that bad," objected Brom.
"It is up there," said Eragon, pointing at the sky.
Brom swore and handed him Cadoc's reigns. They trotted away with Saphira following on foot, though on the ground she had difficulty keeping up the horses.
The gale grew stronger, flinging dirt through the air and twisting like a dervish. They wrapped scarves around their heads to protect their eyes; Bree also having had to tie her hair back with a piece of ribbon to keep it out of her face. Brom's robe flapped in the wind while his beard whipped about as if it had a life of its own. Though it would make them miserable, Eragon hoped it would rain so their tracks would be obliterated.
Soon darkness forced them to stop. With only the stars to guide them, they left the road and made camp behind two boulders. It was too dangerous to light a fire, so they ate cold food while Saphira sheltered them from the wind.
After the sparse dinner, Eragon asked bluntly, "How did they find us?"
Brom started to light his pipe, but thought better of it and put it away. "One of the palace servants warned me were spies among them. Somehow word of me and my questions must have reached Tábor…and through him, the Ra'zac."
"We can't go back to Dras-Leona, can we?" asked Eragon.
Brom shook his head. "Not for a few years.
"Why would you want to?" asked Bree, handing Eragon his sword and sitting by Brom, with hers by her side.
Eragon held his head between his hands. "Then should we draw the Ra'zac out? If we let Saphira be seen, they'll come running to wherever she is."
"Bringing fifty soldiers with them when they do, I'm sure. We'll be very lucky if they don't attack us tonight. If it weren't for the wind I'd say we should keep going, even in the dark rather than stay in the place for too long." Bree said, tucking her legs beneath her to the warm.
Brom nodded. "At any rate this isn't the time to discuss it. Right now we have concentrate on staying alive. Tonight will be the most dangerous because the Ra'zac will be hunting us in the dark, when they are strongest. We'll have to trade watches until morning."
"Right," said Eragon, standing. Bree felt as though they being watched, her fears confirmed when Eragon hesitated, squinting into the darkness. He stepped towards the edge of their camp.
"What is it?" asked Brom, halting unrolling his blankets to follow Eragon's line of sight, Bree reached for her sword, and whispered Brom's name, in an attempt to get his attention.
Eragon stared into the darkness a moment longer, then turned back to the camp. "I don't know. I thought I saw something. It must have been a bird." Eragon had only just finished speaking when a shadowy figure beat him across the back of his, disappearing once more into the darkness. Saphira roared as Eragon toppled to ground, unconscious. Brom drew his sword, moving to stand over him, motioning Bree to come closer.
She didn't make it to his side however, as something dashed past, wrenching the sword from her grip and pulling her around until she her back was to it, a dagger poised at her throat. "Drop your sword old man," hissed a voice from beside her ear, the grip on her arm tightening when tried to move away from the stench of its breath; like fetid meat.
Brom hesitated, eyes never leaving the creature, then slowly began to lower his sword to the ground. Just before he released the handle, Bree noticed another figure emerging from the shadows behind him, without thinking, Bree shouted "Jierda" flinging her arm out towards the figure. It shrieked, whether in pain or anger she didn't know, Brom taking his chance, swinging his sword around to meet the shadow. Bree's legs were shaking from the effort it had taken to use the spell. Her legs gave out just as the shadow, one of the Ra'zac, dealt a blow to the side of Brom's head with the hilt of its sword.
The Ra'zac that had been holding Bree let her drop to ground where she slumped on her side. Saphira made a move to grab the Ra'zac standing above Bree but was forced to halt when its partner held a knife to Eragon's throat; a dragon won't fight if her Rider is being held.
"What is this," hissed the Ra'zac closest to Bree. "Another little magic user, we were only aware of the old man and the boy, being capable." It hissed again in a mocking laugh. "It didn't do you much good though, did it young one?" All Bree could do was glare at them as they bound her and her companions arms behind them, fighting the darkness that blurred the edges of vision, drifting between sleep and awake; she had been exhausted already and the spell had drained her nearly to the point of blacking out.
A.N. How was that? It ended up being quite a long chapter too; I think it might be my longest so far. And in the next chapter, Murtagh the Magnificent.
