They rode until they reached the foothills of the Spine. It might have been Eragon's imagination, but it almost felt like he could sense Galbatorix's anger and rage all the way from the capital. Which, it occurred to him, he could. He had the body of a grown Rider again. His mind could likely reach as far as Urû'baen if he cared to try. Not that he would do something so foolish while the king was in a foul mood. Eragon double-checked the dragon eggs in the space-fold, making sure they were secure.
Setting up camp, Eragon took the time to do the Rimgar, adjusting to his new limbs as he performed the Dance of Snake and Crane. That done, Eragon took out Zar'roc and dulled the edge. Brom silently dulled his own blade. Moving around the fire cautiously, Brom was the first to strike.
Three moves later, Brom was disarmed. Eragon breathed deep. "I need to remember to keep my technique sharp. Last go around I fell into a bad habit of brute forcing my way to the killing blow."
Brom shook out his wrist. "I forgot how damned strong a fully-fledged elf or Rider was. Looking back, I have no idea how I beat Morzan."
"He was likely overconfident while you were cunning like a fox," Eragon complimented his father. "He left an opening which you seized. It only has to happen once in a fight."
We might have influenced that fight from the Vault, Umaroth contributed.
Brom sighed. "Mystery solved, outside manipulations."
Saphira landed in the clearing they'd camped in, barely stopping herself from crushing either of them or the horses. Was everything always so… small? She asked in an aggrieved manner.
Eragon patted her shoulder. "Have you tried breathing fire yet? Your fire-lung is fully developed now."
Saphira perked up. Turning to the campfire, she let out a string stream of indigo flames. She looked inordinately pleased at the accomplishment.
Eragon went through his bag and pulled out every piece of clothing he owned. All of it was now far too small and thin. Working some quick spells, Eragon did the best he could to adjust the fit of the pants and shirts to his new dimensions. That done, he eyed his greyish skin in the light of the fire. "I'm going to have to skin a bear for a cloak while we're going through the Spine. Anyone who takes one look at me and hears I'm your son will assume you're mad and mated with a female Kull."
"Amusing as it would be to see those reactions, that's probably a good idea." Brom filled his pipe and began to smoke his cadmus weed. "Now, what's the plan going forward? We have the Eldunari. What's the next phase of our adventure across the country?"
Eragon steepled his hands, considering the situation from every angle. "We need to find Murtagh and have him hatch Thorn. Then we need to make straight for Gil'ead and Durza to rescue… Arya. With Firnen hatched, it's just a brief trek across all Alagaësia to the Beors and Tronjheim. Whether there's a Battle of Farthen Dûr depends on whether I can kill Durza."
Brom nodded. "Okay. Now there's just the question of finding someone Galbatorix considers as good as a prince. Is he tucked in Urû'baen?"
Straining his memories, Eragon said "At this point, he's fled Urû'baen. Galbatorix revealed the monster behind the mask. According to him, he hid on the estate of a friend. Now we either need to find that estate or convince him to come to us."
Creating a depression in the ground and filling it with water with a few words, Eragon said "Dream stare,". In a rush of cloudiness, the form of his half-brother appeared in a white room. So he was somewhere Eragon had never seen. Withdrawing the focus of the spell, Eragon got a general idea of where in the Empire Murtagh was.
Then he cast his mind leagues from his body, fast as a wraith, to hover at his older sibling's shoulder. Feeling guilty for what he was about to do, Eragon held Murtagh's mental shields in his eldritch grip and crushed them like a walnut.
Peace! I only want to talk, Eragon told the other son of Selena, broadcasting nothing but gentle non-hostility. At first Murtagh was too panicked, desperately trying to cast out the mental intruder ineffectively. The longer Eragon waited without doing anything, though, the less frantic Murtagh's struggle became.
… Who is this? Do you serve the King? Murtagh asked hesitantly, clearly waiting for his will to be stolen at a moment's notice.
Hardly. I'm a Dragon Rider. I serve Alagaësia. Eragon kept it simple. No need to overwhelm the teenager.
Murtagh froze. … You're lying. There's no Dragon Riders left except Galbatorix.
I'm sure you kept your ear to the ground, Murtagh. You didn't hear how the Varden's egg vanished when Durza attacked the courier? Perhaps you heard something about the Ra'zac disappearing mysteriously in the Spine while in pursuit of the same egg?
Murtagh gulped and sat down in his chair. Oh gods… that was you?
I cast the spell that killed them, with magic I only had access to because of my bond with my dragon. Her name is Saphira. Eragon thought softly.
Murtagh grit his teeth. How can I believe a word you say?
Well, that's tricky, since you don't know the Ancient Language. I suppose you'll just have to trust me. And believe me when I say you should make for Teirm in all haste.
And why would I do that? Murtagh asked belligerently.
Because I just stole Galbatorix's other two eggs today. And one of them is meant for you. So if you want to be a Dragon Rider, one nothing like your father or Galbatorix, you'll come to me. And me and my companion will go to you. We'll meet somewhere in the middle, Eragon reasoned.
Eragon felt Murtagh's disbelief war with a childlike desire. You must think me utterly mad. If you're near Teirm, how'd you steal the two dragon eggs?
Magic. Eragon replied simply.
And one of them is meant for me? Really? How can you tell?
Again, magic. So you can saddle Tornac, come to me, and you can see if what I'm saying is true. Or you can stay put and force me to come all the way to you. Either way, we'll be meeting soon, and I'll present you with a dragon egg.
Murtagh chewed it over. … Just who are you, exactly? And don't say a friend, don't say a Dragon Rider. Who are you?
Eragon took a chance. Eragon, son of Selena and Brom. My father seduced her shortly after you were born. They ended up truly in love, though. You remember hearing she was absent around the time your father was killed? She'd fled to Carvahall to have me and see me raised by Uncle Garrow. Then Brom found me and started training me. Then Saphira hatched for me and this whole mad dance started.
Murtagh could have been knocked over with a feather. … You're lying. You have to be lying.
Do I feel like I'm lying? Eragon asked non-sarcastically. Eragon projected his honesty and good intentions into Murtagh's mind.
… I have a brother. I have a brother and he's a Dragon Rider. Murtagh thought faintly.
And so will you be, when we meet. So, you going to head for Teirm?
… I must be out of my mind. I'll only head out because I don't want you coming here and jeopardizing my friend.
Good. It'll take us about a fortnight to get through the mountains. Head for the Toark River, I'll coordinate on my end to head for you. With any luck, soon we'll meet and you'll join me as a Rider.
Fine. Let's find out how this goes. Just one last question, who's your companion besides… Saphira?
My father, Eragon thought simply.
Murtagh blinked. Why didn't you say that to start? I'll head for you just for the chance to shake that man's hand. Brom may be an anarchist, but he saved me from a childhood filled with Morzan's horrors.
Eragon grinned. Then we have an accord. The Toark River. Two weeks. Fair warning, I don't exactly look… human. I may have experimented with magic to reshape my body.
Why would you do that? Murtagh asked, flummoxed.
So I can better kill Galbatorix. Eragon thought flatly.
Ah.
Sensing Murtagh begin to plan his trip, Eragon withdrew from his mind.
"Good talk with the brother?" Brom asked lightly.
"He's coming towards the Toark. It's our job not to miss him." Eragon shrugged. "Let's get some sleep. I'll also take watch."
"Never did get that handy ability," Brom mused as he pulled out his sleeping pallet.
Eragon passed the next few hours in the waking doze characteristic of the Elves. He remained fully aware of his surroundings physically and magically, but his body went into a healing rest and fantastic visions played behind his eyes. Eragon woke with the dawn and did the Rimgar again to make sure he'd fully adjusted to this new body. It occurred to him that with dwarf bones, he could get Fists of Steel. Eragon had always been fascinated by the implanted brass knuckles.
Cooking breakfast and letting the aroma wake his father, Eragon enjoyed a hot meal with Brom and then they saddled the horses. Saphira took off into the skies after a quick cuddle with Eragon.
The next two weeks feel into a rhythm of making as fast a trek as possible through the mountain passes in this portion of the Spine. Eragon indeed skinned a bear and fashioned a cloak. Eragon made daily checks with scrying on Murtagh's progress. So far, it looked like they'd meet up shortly before they managed to exit the Spine proper.
The day came when Eragon and Brom met a rider coming towards them on a fine warhorse. He was young, about 18, and wore clothes that hinted at both fashion and function. The quality of his weapons indicated a life of wealth. There was an unfortunate amount of Morzan to his features, but Selena had left her own impression.
Eragon waved. "Greetings, brother. You made good time."
Murtagh eyed the two of them distrustingly. "Eragon and Brom?" He asked, as if expecting some joke or ambush.
Saphira chose that moment to land thunderously behind them. Holcomb and Snowfire were too used to Saphira's antics by this point to react, especially with Eragon to mentally calm them with magic. Tornac almost reared and threw Murtagh, but Eragon's brother was a fine horseman and didn't lose his seat.
"That answer your question?" Eragon asked dryly.
Murtagh gaped at Saphira's sheer magnificence. "By the gods!"
Saphira will suffice, or Brightscales if you prefer, she projected to Murtagh, not bypassing his shields but making herself heard regardless.
Murtagh seemed honored to have his mind touched by a dragon. "She's beautiful. But how the hell is she so big? Her egg must have hatched barely 4 months ago!"
Eragon gave a little wiggle of his fingers. "Magic."
Murtagh sighed and got off Tornac. Eragon and Brom did the same. They walked forward until they were within hand-shaking distance.
Murtagh seemed to gird himself. "So, you know who I am. And I think I know who you are. Just so we're on the same page, I am Murtagh, the unfortunate son of Morzan and Selena."
"I am Brom, the reason you're fatherless," Brom said simply.
"And I'm Eragon, son of Brom and Selena, Rider of Saphira," Eragon said, pulling back the hood on his cloak.
Murtagh blinked. "You look like you're half-Kull, half-elf. Which I'm sure has never actually occurred. Magic again?"
"Yes," Eragon said simply. Then he reached out and pulled Murtagh into a tight embrace. "We may have different fathers, but we're still blood. You're family. No matter what happens, never hesitate to call me brother."
Murtagh blinked heavily like he was fighting back tears. The moment of weakness soon passed. "Good to know, Eragon." Turning to Brom, Murtagh held out his hand. "My thanks for murdering my father. He deserved far worse."
Brom took the offered hand with a firm shake. "Believe me, I know. The whole reason I started the Varden was to get my revenge on Morzan. Galbatorix was just a handy excuse."
Murtagh nodded as if this knowledge didn't surprise him. "He was a man of many sins."
Eragon reached to his belt and unlaced Zar'roc. "Before I give you your egg, this sword is your inheritance. Use it, throw it in the river, do with it as you wish. It's your decision."
Murtagh eyed the elvish blade like it was a snake poised to strike. Finally, he took it with reluctant hands. "If I'm to be a Rider, I'll need a Rider's blade. I'll redeem its legacy, though it might take me decades."
"Good attitude," Brom said, pating Murtagh on the shoulder.
Once Misery was belted at Murtagh's side and his usual hand-and-a-half sword was put in Tarnoc's saddlebags, Eragon pulled Thorn's egg from the space-fold that held the Eldunari, which had helpfully elected to remain silent for this conversation. Eragon presented it humbly. "Your best friend in all the world. You just haven't met him yet."
Murtagh held the egg with wonder and disbelief. "You actually stole it. Galbatorix must have razed the city to the ground in his rage."
Saphira had been a bit of a slow hatcher. Thorn evidently took much less time to decide he wanted to enter the world. With an explosion of eggshell and yolk, the red hatchling burst from the egg, still held awkwardly in Murtagh's grip.
Murtagh gaped. He brought up his right palm almost unconsciously. The unnamed dragon reached out to press his nose to the palm. With a flash of light, Murtagh was on the ground, the gedwëy ignasia bright as snow on his palm. The red dragon played on the boy's unconscious chest.
Saphira leaned down and breathed very hard on the hatchling. Calm down, little one.
Thorn paid her no mind, though he did seem fascinated by the much larger female hovering over him. Murtagh soon stirred, and Thorn's attention refocused on his human. Murtagh looked down at the hatchling on his chest and the gedwëy ignasia on his palm. "Oh, gods. It really happened. I'm a Dragon Rider."
Eragon nodded. "As such, you serve the five races of Alagaësia equally. And I think we both know who's the biggest threat to their safety."
Murtagh groaned. "Is Galbatorix a good king? Not by any stretch of the imagination. But he's still better than total anarchy. You expect me to just join the Varden now and set out to tear the whole system down?"
Brom frowned. "I don't know where you got your information, but our goal has always been to keep the original system of the Broddring Kingdom intact. We won't bring down the whole government, just replace the despot sitting on the throne."
Murtagh blinked. "... I suppose I should have considered the source when I heard ill news about the king's enemies," he mused. He turned down to the red dragon and sat up, curling the hatchling in his lap. "This little guy is mine?" He asked with boyish wonder.
"As much as you are his. And the first thing he needs is a name," Eragon prompted.
Murtagh considered it. "... Thorn. Because he's pretty as a flower but he's still got teeth."
Brom nodded. "A good, strong name for a young dragon."
"What happens now?" Murtagh asked, standing with Thorn perched on his shoulder.
"Now we go to Gil'ead. On the way, Brom will do his best to make you a Rider worthy of the name. And once we're there, we rescue the Rider of the other egg. She's being kept prisoner by Durza."
Murtagh paled. "You couldn't force me to be within a league of that… thing. Galbatorix got him year ago and he's swiftly become the king's favorite toy."
"Well, we're going to do our best to slay him. Which, coincidentally, will free all the Urgals under Durza's thrall."
Murtagh gaped. "If the Urgals obey Durza, then they obey Galbatorix. That would mean…"
"Galbatorix doesn't care for any life but his own. If he has to sacrifice hundreds of his citizens to get a second army, he'd do it without blinking," Brom asserted surely.
Murtagh gulped. "Okay. Feeling less unsure about pledging to stand against him."
They made as much progress as they could with the remaining daylight. Then Brom challenged Murtagh to what would become a nightly spar. Eragon watched from the corner of his eye as he did drills to maintain his form. Murtagh was about as good as a human his age and build could be. Even the advantage of Zar'roc's light weight couldn't beat out Brom's greater experience, though.
The next two months passed swiftly. They made their way for Gil'ead, avoiding the road whenever possible until Thorn was strong enough to fly with Saphira. When encounters with other travelers proved inescapable, Eragon and the Eldunari veiled Thorn with magic so his gawky young body was invisible.
Thorn and Murtagh both made excellent progress. Though he'd yet to access magic, Murtagh proved quite studious in the Ancient Language. He'd have stumbling conversations with both Brom and Eragon to help his fluency. When it came to basic education and learning how to fight, Murtagh was already as set as possible given his expensive upbringing. Thorn turned out to have a playful, innocent nature with more than just a touch of mischief. He loved Murtagh dearly, and saw Saphira and the others as part of their odd little family, even the horses. The look on both their faces when they had their first flight together was wondrous to behold.
Finally, they arrived at the fields surrounding Gil'ead. Just looking at a distance, it was impossible not to recognize the town for what it was: a military center.
The three men, two dragons, and dozens of Eldunari regarded the barracks from a distance, the moon high in the sky. "What's the plan, little brother?" Murtagh asked. It hadn't escaped his notice that while Brom was the oldest, more often than not the aged former Rider deferred to his son's authority.
Eragon considered it. "I'm the only one out of us who can match Durza physically. And the fewer people who break into the prison, the less chance of getting caught. I say I sneak in alone, free the elf, and get her out. Durza we can save for a later date. And if I do run into him, me and the Eldunari can handle him."
Saphira snorted. Like hell I'll let you wander alone into danger. Let me make a distraction at least.
Brom shook his head. "Saphira, as of this moment Galbatorix doesn't know for sure you've hatched. I'd rather we kept him in ignorance as long as possible. Eragon's plan is sound."
She snorted smoke, grumbling. She'd gotten control of the random flashes of fire a while ago, refusing to have such an undignified habit.
Good luck, Eragon! Thorn wished cheerfully.
Eragon nodded and figured no time like the present. He sprinted fast as a horse down to the entrance of Gil'ead. Casting a spell to conceal him from the senses, Eragon bypassed the guards and made for the prison. With a single unassisted leap, Eragon jumped to the top of the wall surrounding the prison. Descending into the depths of the prison, absorbing information by lightly tapping the minds of the guards, Eragon made for Arya's cell. He magically picked the lock, and opened the door.
The sight of Arya, the woman he loved, hanging in despair and dread from chains on the wall inflamed Eragon. He had the mad idea to tear the prison apart brick by brick until he found Durza and made him pay a thousand times over for every drop of Arya's spilled blood.
Arya looked up, blearily. Cancelling the concealment spell, Naruto touched his first two fingers to his lips and whispered "I am a Rider and a friend."
She hung her head, dismissing him as an illusion of her pain. Eragon quickly and quietly broke the chains holding her and gathered her in his arms. Ignoring how good she felt there, Eragon whispered "Rest. When you wake, you'll be safe."
"... Thank you," she breathed before passing out unconscious.
Concealing himself, Eragon quickly fetched her sword and bow and other supplies. He was on his way out of the prison when he felt evil energies coalesce into a corporeal form behind him.
Eragon turned to find Durza looking right at him. "How curious. What manner of creature are you?" The blood-haired monster in the shape of a man asked idly.
Reacting instantly, Eragon silently cast a spell to bend the light into a laser that would pierce straight through the Shade. The beam of blue light froze for just a second, caught on a ward before Eragon's and the Eldunari's combined might pushed through to pierce Durza's breast. That split-second of delay proved the Shade's salvation. He managed to move just enough so the laser didn't pierce his heart. Writhing with pain, the possessed sorcerer dissolved into mist.
"Barzûln," Eragon swore. Then, remembering he was carrying precious cargo, Eragon exited the same way he arrived but in reverse, landing like a cat, Arya's weight barely noticeable in his grip.
Fifteen minutes later, Eragon slipped into the campsite.
"How'd it go? You made it back alive, so that's a good start," Murtagh mused.
Eragon grimaced and spared a fraction of his attention to mentally send the memories to the others. His main focus was on Arya. He cast a comprehensive diagnostic spell and hissed. It was as bad as his memories. The most brutal kind of torture, along with administration of Skilna Bragh to ensure she'd die if she escaped. Taking a sip from the wineskin to fortify himself, Eragon mentally brought up all his medical knowledge, including the process of filtering a poison out of individual cells. He then cast a very long, complicated spell that coveted every injury Arya had sustained.
The energy requirement was of no concern between his natural reserves and the Eldunari. The last of the healing magic faded and Arya was, in theory, as good as new. But she remained unconscious.
Eragon whispered into her ear, intimate as a lover. "Princess Arya, you have been healed. My skills are such that Tunivor's Nectar was unneeded to treat the poison. You are among friends now, and Durza has been temporarily slain. Please, open your eyes."
His statements had been plain, without room for interpretation. Arya furrowed a brow and opened her eyes.
Eragon spared just a moment to reflect how beautiful she was like this, fresh from sleep. Then he reminded himself of their position and backed away. She slowly sat up, surveying the surroundings quickly. Her jaw dropped at the dragons.
"Allow me to introduce myself. I am Eragon, Rider of Saphira. Behind me are Murtagh, Rider of Thorn, and Brom. You might recognize him," Eragon said slowly, as if addressing a spooked animal.
Arya sat up with all her regal bearing. "Brom-elda. It is good to see you. I see that not only did the egg reach you, we were even fortunate for it to hatch." She turned to eye Thorn. "But fortune must truly have smiled on us, to have stolen another egg and for it to hatch as well."
Brom huffed. "I'd love to take all the credit, but most of the merit belongs to my son Eragon. It was his idea to steal the other two eggs, and to do so with an ingenious method that bypassed the wards. We have the third egg as well. I suppose that's the one you'll be ferrying from now on."
Arya blinked. She turned to see Gil'ead in the distance. "Were we not still in the heart of Galbatorix's lands, I would deem this a true moment to celebrate. As it is, I won't feel truly safe until we're all either in the tunnels of the Beors or the forests of Du Weldenvarden."
"An excellent idea. We should get moving immediately," Eragon asserted. "Durza will reform fast, and then he'll come after us with the full weight of the army behind him."
Murtagh sighed. "Guess we're sleeping in the saddle."
Eragon led Holcomb over to Arya. "You can use my horse," he offered.
Arya frowned severely. "I'm not some helpless human woman," she said cold as ice.
"I didn't say you were. But you have endured daily torture at the hands of a sadist for as long as Saphira's been alive. I thought you might prefer to ride than run. It's up to you, makes no difference to me."
She looked taken aback. "My apologies for my rude words. I'm just used to such biased thinking from humans."
Eragon shrugged. "Well, I'm not fully human anymore. So is it the saddle or your sandals?"
Arya considered it and then took the reins. She hopped gracefully into the saddle, Eragon helpfully adjusting the stirrups for her much reduced height. Arya ran a hand over Holcomb's mane. "He is a very healthy specimen, beloved. You must take good care of him."
"I treasure all that I consider mine," Eragon said, perhaps a bit too heavily for the conversation. Shaking his head, Eragon jogged to catch up with Brom and Murtagh, as Thorn and Saphira leapt into the air.
