Chapter 13

Magic or no Magic?

I get up and move out of the depression we spent the night in. We start the day usually and then Eragon announces that the water bag is empty. Brom didn't seem to mind.

"Yazuac will be there before dark."

Eragon looks sceptical. I suddenly remember a huge water dispenser type bottle that a man was carrying home. A

summon it and a few minutes later, we are riding past more water than we can carry.

"Oh look!" I exclaim. "Water! How convenient!"

Eragon laughs and leaps of Cadoc, taking a long drink. I follow. Linden is no longer big for me, all the ponies I remember riding must have been tiny. Brom has a swig as well and then I have a long drink. The water is cool and refreshing. After we water the horses, we are back to endless plodding. With every step, I grow tenser.

Finally, we arrive within a reasonable distance of Yazuac. Eragon expresses his concern. No dogs barking or people chattering.

"Perhaps we should go round the side. Keep your bows at the ready."

"Stating the obvious," murmured Eragon, but he takes an arrow out of the quiver and the bowstring is eased back slightly and he increases tension on the arrow.

We enter from the other direction. Saphira is hiding somewhere in the air, trying not to be obtrusive. We enter the town and Brom's eyes are flashing. I know he is looking for the Urgals that I told him would come. Brom moves into the centre of the town. I hear Eragon exclaim and I myself utter a cry.

The book describes this as 'a mountain of bodies towering above them of blood soaked corpses' and no wonder! A crow drops out of the sky and summons up the corpses, opting for a pale young one. Both me and Eragon release an arrow at it at the same time. To my surprise, my arrow hits it square in the breast along with Eragon's. The crow flutters out of sight. I can hardly believe this is happening. I have to remind myself that this is actually going on. Obviously, Eragon has no such qualms; he turns away and throws up. I look away and Eragon straightens up.

"Are you okay?" I ask.

"I'm fine," says Eragon. "Who could have done…?"

Brom bows his head. "Those who love the pain and suffering of others. They wear many faces and go by many disguises, but there is only one name for them: evil. There is no understanding it. All we can do is pity and honour the victims."

Brom swings off Snowfire to examine the tracks.

"The Ra'zac came this way…"

Do I tell him that the Urgals are here?

Just follow your instincts. What would you do normally?

He nods but remains in my mind. I am very disconcerted by this behaviour, but I don't mention it to Brom, who I sense, is deep in thought.

"This wasn't their work. The spear is of Urgal make. A company of them came through here, perhaps so much as a hundred. It's odd; I know of a few instances where they have gathered in such…"

He kneels and examines a footprint, roughly hewn in the soft ground. His eyebrows furrow and he leaps onto Snowfire, urging him on even before he has landed on the stallion's back.

"Ride! Urgals are still here!"

Brom withdraws from my mind, focused and tense.

We gallop as fast as we can to the edge of Yazuac, where I battle relief and disappointment. A few more yards and we'd be out of Yazuac!

I hear a gasp and look behind me. Eragon is up against a wall, Cadoc bolting away from what looks like a hideous monster. Spiral horns are ferociously displayed. The width of the shoulders and the axe in his hand serve a reminder that he is not to be messed with.

"Run! Don't sit there, RUN!" I scream.

The Urgal roars and swings his lethal axe. Eragon ducks the axe with a yelp and turns, getting to his feet, running alongside the house he was flung at and slips into one of the alleyways. Brom has a look of pained concentration on his face and suddenly I understand why.

Saphira, wait.

I sense untold fury, a barrier of hate, concern and…yes…fear.

Eragon is in danger! Do not bar my way!

Saphira listen to me! If you interfere now, you will stop the course of events and Eragon will not gain his magic! And if he does not gain his magic, he will not be able to fight enemies that we will run into, even with my help! You said you trusted me Saphira. Do you?

Another Urgal flings himself at Brom, but I loosen an arrow in his direction. It bounces off him but it catches his attention. He glares and advances on me.

"You want land." It is not a question.

"We will get land!"

"You think King Galbatorix can get you land?" Brom's face shows shock at this information. The Urgal's face is twisted in a gross leer, which seems to be the closest you got to amazement when you have as much facial capability as a spanner.

"If you know of that, then you know of everything, and you must be destroyed!"

"But the Varden can offer you land if you join their cause. Much bloodshed on Galbatorix's part can be avoided. Your Herndall will have to make this decision eventually to survive when Galbatorix betrays you."

The Urgal gives a roar of disbelief. "No! The Father will not betray us little drajil!"

"Then your ushnark will let you have his land once this war is over? Somehow, I doubt it."

"You know our language little one? Maybe you have our stomach for pain too!"

The Urgal lunges, and I duck low over Linden. A sudden rage boils up in me, tense and furious, I yell, "Jierda!"

There is a sharp crack and the Urgal falls over, clutching his knees. I suddenly wince at the decrease in my strength and Brom looks at me with concern, but hiding another emotion I can't distinguish. Brom dismounts and with a swipe of his sword, beheads the Urgal.

"Did you mean what you said?" he snaps. "Why did you tell the Urgal that? If he had got away, our plans would be ruined!"

"I'm sorry, but I-"

"Sorry? For that? You will be sorry when we lose our only advantage over Galbatorix! You idiot!"

"I'm not exactly a warrior!" I yell back at him. "I don't have the strength to lob them all the way to Teirm. I was hoping I could distract him and then you could do a little swordplay with him."

"You finished him off all right there," Brom argues. "Why couldn't you have done it sooner?"

"I didn't have time to access the magic!" I retort. "It's all right for you, Rider-"

Brom suddenly clamps a hand over my mouth. Eragon is there, mounted on Cadoc, looking shocked.

"We have to talk."

"Talk while we ride," Brom orders. He pulls himself up onto Snowfire and gallops out of Yazuac.