Chapter 11
The Great Plain
I let Linden gulp down the water and I dismount, conjuring up several empty bottles and filling them. They are Lucazade bottles with those fancy non-spill lids, so whenever you squeeze the bottle, water sprays out of them. Eragon and me have a mini water fight with them, fill the bottles up again, and put them in our packs. I climb on Linden and we start across the plain.
The plain looked amazing from back on the hill, but in actuality, I'd rather I was still climbing the slope. The wind blows non-stop, cracking our lips so much, I'm forced to summon several tins of Vaseline and give some to Brom and Eragon. We drink sparingly, but whatever we do drink is quickly absorbed by the thirsty sun, leaving us worse off than when we started.
We stopped for the night in the open. In any other circumstances, I'd probably conjure a tent so we could sleep in relative safety. But out here, the wind would have picked it up and carried it away, probably injuring one of us in the process. Eragon pulls up a short plant and tries to get it going. He lights the tinderbox over and over again, but every time, the wind blew it out before it had got going. Eragon practically threw the box at Brom in frustration and said, "I can't make it burn, especially in this blasted wind. See if you can get it going: otherwise we'll be cold to the bone by the time we get up in the morning."
Brom looks at the branches, rearranges a few and strikes the flint.
"Let me try." Brom offers me the tinderbox, but I politely refuse and summon a full pack of matches. I strike the side of the box and the match bursts into flames and goes out. I try again, cupping the flame and it licks the branch, but does not catch fire. Eventually, the wind blows it out.
"Have another go Brom," I say. "These matches won't do the trick."
Brom uses the flint. "Brisingr!" he invokes and suddenly, there was a roaring flame.
"There you go, must have already been smouldering inside."
We spar again, but the best I can do is drive Brom back a step, before he darts past my defences and raps me on the kneecap. Brom pits me against Eragon, just to see how well we do. Eragon is sneaky, and he tried a few low swipes, but when I block them, he feints and tries to hit my arm. I parry and crack him on the arm. He gives a bellow and launches at me, stick whipping through the air, and I only just manage to stop him.
He's strong, I think desperately. I wonder if I can use his strength against him. Eragon lunges again, and instead of blocking him, I dodge. For a second, Eragon is off balance and that is all I need to disarm his with a quick swipe to his wrist. Eragon dives after the stick-sword, but I manage to hit my stick against his thigh and it sends him sprawling. I put the end of my stick to his collarbone and for a second, nobody moves. Then I withdraw my stick and Eragon stands. Brom comes over.
"Well done Emily. How did you win?"
"I noticed when provoked, he lunged a lot. If I dodged him, I could catch him as he tried to right himself."
"So you interpreted his weakness, yes?"
"I guess so." Brom smiles.
"Eragon, good match. Heed Emily's words, they will do you much good. Do not be tempted to do anything that jeopardises your balance, no matter the provocation."
Eragon looks slightly dazed but he manages to come over and congratulate me.
"Good match. You are quick."
"Thank you," I reply. "I've never gone against someone so hard before. You are really strong."
"Thank you," Eragon said. "I really must get some sleep now."
"Good night," I say, and Eragon flops onto his bedroll.
"Brom, you said you wanted to do special training with me."
"And I will keep my word."
He pauses for moment, and then tells me, "If anything goes wrong, Saphira will call us."
"Where are we going?"
Brom leads me away from the still-burning fire. About quarter of a mile away, Brom stops and sits down, indicating I do the same.
"I need to know how much mental power you have."
"How will you do that?"
"I will attempt to break into your mind. I will not intrude on your thoughts or memories, but it should give you an idea of how to do it."
I am nervous at this. "Do you give your word that, for tonight, you will not try to access any of my thoughts or memories without my permission unless mine, Saphira's, Eragon's or your life is in danger?"
Brom lifts an eyebrow. "I see you are adamant on this."
"I will do all I can to protect my consciousness," I say. "Do you give your word?"
"Very well, I give my word."
"You know that is not what I mean."
"Eka thorta du illumeo," Brom invokes. I speak the truth. I nod.
"Now, hold an image, sound or thought in your head. When you are ready, tap the ground with your foot."
I fix all my attention on London, the shining wheel, Buckingham Palace…every memory fills my head, along with bittersweet emotions that clog up my heart. I tap the floor and I feel Brom's presence lurking outside.
Ignore him. Focus on London. London…the Thames, the train ride there, the Underground, that's him isn't it? No! Keep focusing –
Too late, Brom's voice says. Try concentrating on a poem, or something to recite. Remember, sometimes, you do not have the luxury of being in a situation where nothing distracts you. You must master this. Again, one more time before we move on to other things.
I nod and think of a poem. I recite it over and over again, till I can focus on nothing else. I stop speaking, but inside, I am still reciting the verse. I tap my foot.
Away away away you must fly,
Over the peaks and into the sky.
Away, away, away you must fly,
Never to return to me.
Away, away, away you must run,
Over the hills and into the sun,
Away, away, away you must run,
Never to return to me.
Away, away, away, you must sail,
Braving wind, rain and hail.
Away, away, away, you must sail,
Never to return to me.
Five minutes later, Brom breaks through when I've exhausted my poem to pieces. He seems pleased.
"You have a very strong mind Emily, I'm impressed. Most people take ages to learn this little trick."
"It helps if you know all the teaching points," I giggle.
"Only, once you know the poem so well you could do it in your sleep, switch to another one, so your mind doesn't become distracted."
"Again?" I enquire. To my surprise, Brom shakes his head. "Not now. You're tired, and this hard work isn't doing you any favours. We'll concentrate on your magic and mind tricks, your conjuring seems to come naturally to you, so you can undertake more difficult activities when you are ready. Your basic skills now will help so I'm not that fussed, although it may be necessary to master your skills before we get to the Varden."
I stand up.
"Thank you Brom."
Brom grunts. "I'm just trying to keep you alive."
"And if anything deserves thanks, that does," I grin.
I fight the cold winds to get back to bed. My snug sleeping bag awaits!
On the second day on the plains, I am disappointed to see that the wind hasn't died down. I knew that it wouldn't but still; I can't believe we have to cross it while it is this windy. It gets worse I remind myself. I tack up Linden and mount her. She's as uncomfortable as I am, I can tell. Brom mounts Snowfire and Eragon rides close to me on Cadoc.
"Where did you and Brom go last night?"
"Brom had to teach me a few things."
"What things?"
"I can't tell you." Eragon looks more frustrated than angry.
"I hate it when people do that."
"Do what?"
"Keep things from you."
"Trust me Eragon, when the time is right, you'll know everything I know." Eragon seems unsatisfied.
My lips crack even more now; I get through 2 big pots of Vaseline a day. I manage to multiply a Vaseline tub four times, a new high score. I ride close to Cadoc and offer him another pot and he gives me the empty pot.
"This should last you for the rest of the day."
"Thanks," he replies and smiles as I Banish the empty pot. I offer Brom a pot but he has used his more sparingly and he shakes his head. Apart from a small break for lunch in which I was forced to Conjure a roll of cling film to stop the peas from flying off my curry and rice with other bits added. I wait for Eragon to untack and smile as his spoon goes for the curry but is halted by the cling film.
"Get ready to eat," I say, curling my fingers around the edge of the cling film. "Three…two…one…eat!"
I rip off the cling film and Eragon starts eating. I laugh as a pea is blown off the rice and hits him in the eye.
"Note to self, make more meals with peas while on the plain," I giggle. Soon, Eragon is bursting out in laughter despite the miserable wind and Linden has to stick her head in between both of us to stop our hysterical fit.
"Hey! No horses at the table," I say, and lead her over to Cadoc and Snowfire. Linden shakes her mane, but stays put.
It's almost a relief when we start trekking again. Even though the horses are doing most of the work, I still feel a tiny bit warmer when we start moving. The rest of the day is almost unbearable, me and Eragon play I spy while we're at it. A kid's game I know, but anything is better than this wind, even if I did guess that the word was 'plain' six times in a row.
After the sparring, in which Brom gives us the usual amount of care (that is none,) and Eragon settles down, I inform Brom of his questioning.
"Saphira will tell us if he comes after us," Brom reassured me. "Let's see what you've got."
But my thoughts are so far away that in both my magic and my mind blocking skills, I am worse than last time.
"It's a start," grumbles Brom. "Right. What are you getting distracted by?"
"Nothing," I sigh. Brom glares at me.
"Don't give me nothing. You've been so far away, you didn't even notice when I spun the pebble around! Or when I broke into your mind and put in a picture of a dancing cow! What are you thinking about?"
Brom's eyebrows come together in a wavy line as he frowns.
"I'm worried about Yazuac. If my plans fail, the Urgals won't just wave goodbye and follow their little troop up the road will they?"
"No. But Saphira will keep watch and not even Urgals could defeat a dragon. I am a good fighter, Eragon is getting better and better by the day, and you know what is going to happen. So what could go wrong?"
"Don't say that," I groan. "Whenever anyone says that, something always goes dreadfully, mind bogglingly wrong. And by the way, the one thing against us in the morning will be weather, so make sure that you're well guarded against showers, really wild gales, and of course, lightning, starting fires."
"You're joking," say Brom. "You mean, the winds that we've had so far?"
"Nope. Mere breezes in comparison to this. So, please be aware, you may have to drag me out of bed tomorrow."
Brom chuckles. "Well, get some rest. According to you, we have a rough day tomorrow, and we need to be prepared."
"Yes sir," I say, saluting him, and ran back towards the warm fire.
