Disclaimer: I don't own Eragon or related characters.
A.N. Here you go guys. In this chapter, we make a decision and ramble for a little bit.
A.N. 2 Hey guys! This chapter is being reloaded with an added sentence just to clear up some confusion. At the very, very end of this chapter was the line "Aww, you're so sweet." I've just added Bree said, batting her eyelashes. to the end of that.
Sometimes I need to remember that even though it sounds great in my head, I'm the only one in there and I can't expect everyone to always know what I'm talking about. Thanks to those who pointed out my error and if you find any more, let me know.
Chapter 11
"Eragon?" He opened his eyes to see Bree's concerned face leaning over him. "Are you alright? You were moaning and thrashing around." She whispered.
Eragon looked blearily around the cave. It was still dark outside but the light from a dying fire allowed him to see that Brom was till fast asleep and Murtagh had sat up on his bed, watching them. "I'm fine," he assured them. "It was just a bad dream."
"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked gently. Murtagh had lain himself back down at the mention of the disturbance being a dream.
"It was the woman again; she looked really hurt this time." He shuddered. "I saw blood dripping from the ends of her fingers and she was shaking."
"All right," Bree sighed. "Try and get some sleep, Eragon. We'll talk to Brom about it in the morning. He always knows what to do." She sat with him and stoked his forehead until his eyes closed and his breathing slowed. Once she was sure he was asleep she crawled back under her blankets.
"Is everything alright?" Murtagh's quiet voice came from the nearby bedding.
"For now." Bree closed her eyes and drifted back to sleep.
When Eragon woke, his body was stiff and sore all over, especially his ribs which kept up a dull ache, twinging with pain each time he moved. The cave was empty except for the horses. He walked to the edge of the cave and sat on the pitted sandstone, staring out over the dry and dusty landscape. The rising sun brought a desert heat to the early morning and he closed his eyes, absorbing the warmth.
He was still there when Brom and Murtagh climbed up to the cave, each carrying a pair of rabbits. "How are you?" asked Brom.
"As well as can be expected. Where are Saphira and Bree?"
"We found a stream that flows just behind the cave. She said something about needing a bath. Brom sent Saphira with her for protection since we were coming back up here."
They moved to the fire and set to skinning the rabbits for breakfast. Not very long after, Bree poked her head around the edge of the cave, her hair dripping water down her back. "All done?" she called. As Saphira scrambled her way the cave's opening.
Eragon laughed. "They're in the pot and cooking, Breakfast will be ready soon."
"Oh good," she sighed, flopping down beside Brom in contentment. She smiled at Murtagh's slightly confused expression. "I will catch them, kill them, chase them off with a stick, but there is no way I'm going to peel their skin off. I leave that to them." She gestured toward Brom and Eragon. "It doesn't bother them. Most of the time I can't even be in the camp when they do it, it's bad enough eating the poor little things. Where I come from bunnies are pets; not dinner."
"And yet you choose to follow us around the countryside. You could be in house somewhere with a bed and meals cooked for you."
She tilted her head to the side, saying, "but you cook for me here." She couldn't hold the serious expression and giggled. "No, seriously, I like being with you lot. You're dysfunctional and moody, have little to no idea about personal hygiene, but I love ya."
"You're in a good mood today," Brom noted.
"I've slept, had a bath that wasn't absolutely freezing, had some girl time with Saphira and someone else cut up the bunnies. I'm also blatantly refusing to think about the consequences of Eragon's dream. I'm good."
"Which dream?" asked Brom.
Eragon looked carefully at Murtagh but spoke after a nod from Bree indicated he should continue. "I dreamt about her again last night." Brom didn't need to ask who "her" was. "She's in a lot of troubled Brom, there was blood dripping from her fingers. I don't know if she has much time left."
Brom rubbed his forehead, a gesture he indulged in when his thoughts conflicted. "We need to get to the Varden. She's in a heavily guarded prison, and I'm not sure we can get her out."
"Where is this prison, perhaps I've been there," questioned Murtagh.
"Gilead," stated Brom.
"That's a soldier's barracks!" he exclaimed in shock. "What could possibly be so important there that you would risk capture by Galbatorix's men?
"An elf. She's in trouble and she needs help," said Eragon.
"Well, I haven't been there; it's a long way from the capital. And I was rarely allowed to travel. But that town is full of well-trained soldiers, all loyal to the king."
"Don't forget the shade."
"Shade?" Murtagh asked.
"Yes, Durza the Shade. Look," she turned to Brom, "I'd rather forget Gilead and just head straight to the Varden, skip the whole Shade fiasco that's bound to occur, but I don't think I can leave Arya there to die. We both know where Eragon stands on this."
"It appears we are going to Gilead. It will mean doubling back towards the north but we won't need to stick to any of the main roads and it should not be too difficult to avoid the towns along the way."
Murtagh shook his head. "You have a serious death wish if you are really planning on going through with this. Rescuing an Elf from inside a town housing an army of soldiers and protected by a Shade is unlikely to be successful."
"So is avoiding Galbatorix, but sometimes you have to do what you have to do," said Eragon.
Bree leaned closer to Murtagh, adding, "The joys of following Hero around." Eragon grimaced at the title; Bree would constantly refer to him as the Hero or Master Swordsman, occasionally bowing to him as she said it.
"Why do you follow them?" asked Murtagh. "Surely you could work in a town somewhere?"
"Probably not after escaping Dras-Leona and once the Ra'zac make their report to Galbatorix I don't think I'll be too popular. We never really discussed my joining them, but I knew from the beginning that I wanted to stick close to them anyway. We were going to discuss it further in Dras-Leona, but we ended up being chased out of there and then we were attacked by the Ra'zac. I think my chance for quiet anonymity in Alagaësia has passed." She looked to Brom. "I'd still like to follow you to the Varden; it will at least be relatively safe there."
"So where to?" asked Murtagh. "The Varden or Gilead? I have my doubts we'll get to do both. However, if you chose the Varden I will not stay with you long. Encountering the Varden would be as dangerous for me as walking unarmed into Urủ'baen with a fanfare of trumpets to announce my arrival."
There was silence as they all looked at each other. Brom sighed, yielding to Eragon and Bree's pleading looks. "Saddle up the horses and we'll leave now, it's a long way to Gilead and we'll want to get there while there's still a chance for us to be of assistance.
"Looks like you won't have to leave us anytime soon," remarked Eragon as he stood. "We should leave before the day grows any older."
"Are you strong enough to travel?" asked Brom. "I'm afraid your ribs will need to wait a little longer, my head is too fuzzy and I am too old to risk attempting to heal them just yet."
"Let me," said Bree. "I feel much less tired today."
Brom shook his head and warned, "It takes far more to heal something like a broken compared to simple bruising. Remember it takes weeks to heal a broken bone under normal circumstances, where as it is mere days, perhaps a week or two, to completely heal a scratch or bruise. The words are the same but you must focus more on the intent; be specific, you don't want to find yourself healing every ailment someone may suffering."
After they had saddled the horses and were leading them to the stream for a last drink before they headed into the desert, Murtagh said, "I feel foolish for asking, but I must know…is your Brom the Brom? The one who helped steal a dragon egg from the king, chased it across the Empire and killed Morzan in a duel? I've been wondering since you first said his name, but I must know for certain."
Bree looked to Eragon, then ahead to where Brom was already standing by the side of the stream with Snowfire. "Yes, Murtagh, he is." A troubled expression settled on Murtagh's face. "But this conversation will have to wait until both you and Eragon know everything. Remember. You have until after dinner tonight before I do the talking."
"How do you know all that?" asked Eragon. "You talk about things that are secret to most, and you were trailing the Ra'zac right when we needed help. We know you couldn't be like Bree as she seems to know as much about you as she does everyone else. Are you one of the Varden?"
Bree snorted, startling Cadoc who walked between her and Eragon. "The Varden." She shook her head, smiling at some inner thought the boys could only guess at.
Murtagh's eyes, however, became inscrutable orbs. "I'm running away, like you." There was restrained sorrow in his words. "I do not belong to either the Varden or the Empire. Nor do I owe allegiance to any man but myself. As for my rescuing you, I will admit that I've heard whispered tales of a new Rider and reasoned that by following the Ra'zac I might discover if they were true."
"I thought you wanted to kill the Ra'zac," said Eragon.
Murtagh smiled grimly. "I do, but if I had, I never would have met you."
"Aww, you're so sweet." Bree said, batting her eyelashes.
They were laughing when they finally reached Brom and let the horses drink; their spirits still high as they set out for Gilead with Saphira circling overhead, looking to all the world nothing more than a buzzard searching for carrion.
A.N. Short again, I know, but this was a good spot to stop.