The next day started in a bad way. They drank the last of the water that morning.
"I hope we're going in the right direction," Eragon commented as he crumpled the empty water bag, "because we'll be in trouble if we don't reach Yazuac today."
Brom seemed unfazed. "I've traveled this way before. Yazuac will be in sight before dusk."
Eragon laughed, and the sound was filled with doubt. "Perhaps you see something I don't. How can you know that when everything looks exactly the same for leagues around?"
"Because I am guided not by the land," Brom explained simply, "but by the sun and stars. They will not lead us astray. Come! Let us be off. It is foolish to conjure up woe where none exists. Yazuac will be there."
His words were true as they rode on. The dragons spotted the village first, but that was expected with how far overhead they were flying. The group on the ground didn't see the village until later that day, and only as a dark spot far ahead of them, only visible because of the continuous flatness of the plain. The closer they got, the more visible the Ninor River was on either side of Yazuac.
It was only a few moments later before Eragon pulled Cadoc into a halt. "Saphira and Argenta will be seen if they stay with us much longer. Should they hide while we go into Yazuac?"
Devon nodded. "There's a bend in the river, there." He pointed toward a curve visible from where they stopped. "Have them wait there. It's far enough that they won't be spotted, but close enough that they won't be left behind. We'll meet them once we get what we need."
Hiding like this feels wrong, Argenta said after Armelle told her of her father's plan. We are not criminals.
But if you're spotted, we will be hunted, Armelle reminded quickly. We cannot afford to be given away.
Argenta sighed before she and Saphira flew off to land near the river.
Once the shimmering creatures were out of sight, the group continued their quick pace, hunger growing in Armelle's stomach at the thought of good food and drink they would enjoy in town. Smoke billowed from the chimneys of small houses, but it was strangely quiet. No people were moving around outside, the absence of action and sound eerie. The four horses pulled to a stop.
"There aren't any dog barking," Eragon said, his voice cutting through the silence like a lightning bolt in a clear sky
"No," Brom agreed.
"Doesn't mean anything, though."
"... No."
Eragon seemed a little more hesitant. "Someone should've seen us by now."
"Yes."
The Blue Rider looked at the old storyteller. "Then why hasn't anyone come out?"
Armelle traded wary glances with her father, who tapped Mordor with his heels and had the large black horse dance a few steps closer to Dana.
Brom squinted up, facing the sun. "Could be afraid."
"Could be," Eragon mused, and then fell quiet for a moment. "And if it's a trap? The Ra'zac might be waiting for us."
"We need provisions and water," Brom reminded.
"There's the Ninor."
"Still need provisions."
"True," Eragon conceded as he looked around. "So we go in?"
Brom flicked the reins and turned away from the main entrance of the town. "Yes, but not like fools. This is the main entrance to Yazuac. If there's an ambush, it'll be almong here. No one will expect us to arrive from a different direction."
"Around to the side, then?" Eragon asked.
Brom nodded, pulling his sword from its sheath and resting it across his saddle.
Armelle's father followed suit, teal sword gleaming.
Armelle pulled her bow from her back, strung it, and nocked a smooth-shafted arrow in the bowstring. She hoped the elven design didn't draw too much attention as she pulled the hood of her mother's cloak over her ears and golden blonde hair.
They slipped around quietly, entering on high alert. The streets were still completely empty, save for one small fox that darted away as they continued. Each house was dark and disquieting; shattered windows, broken-hinged doors swinging precariously from their frames.
Anxiety grew in the half-elf's belly, and suddenly she wished Argenta was closer. She always felt stronger when the dragon was nearby. When they reached the center of the town, Armelle gasped, almond shaped silver eyes as wide as coins.
"Gods above," Eragon whispered in shock.
It was an image Armelle would never forget—a tower of bodies stood in the middle of the street, the corpses twisted with stiffness and the pain they had been in when they died. The clothes on each body were drenched in blood, and the rough, kicked-up ground was soaked with it. Families were grouped together, men overtop of the women they'd been trying to protect, mothers clutching children, couples clinging to one another like they were trying to save the other with their embrace. Black arrows were protruding from each, and no one had been spared, young or old, weak or strong.
Armelle choked on a painful mix of a sob and a gag when she saw what rested on the top of the gruesome pile. A barbed spear was standing straight up, shaft poking toward the sky, with the gory tip impaled through the body of a pale, cold infant.
Tears filled her silver eyes, the sight of the child sickening her, saddening her, and leaving her gut-wrenched and nauseous.
She didn't look back up until her father's strong, calloused hand was rubbing her back, Mordor moved almost flush against Dana's golden side.
"Was this because of us?" Armelle whispered to her father, wiping tears off of her cheeks.
"No, my dear," her father soothed in a soft voice. It was the same voice he'd always used when she'd had a nightmare as a child. "The things that did this didn't do it because of you and Eragon. They did this because they're evil creatures being led by an evil man."
Armelle took another shaky breath, wiping the tears off of her cheeks carefully as she forced herself to calm down.
Brom looked between the teen Riders, both of which were shaken to the core. When he spoke, his voice was gentle. "Do you two want to wait for us outside Yazuac?"
"No… I'll stay," Eragon said with a trembling voice as he wiped his mouth free of the vomit he'd just expelled over the side of his bay horse. "Who could have done…?"
Armelle took another shaky breath and tried to steel herself for the answer.
Brom bowed 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 honor the victims."
The old storyteller dismounted Snowfire and inspected the trampled ground around them. "The Ra'zac passed this way, but this wasn't there doing. This is Urgal work; the spear is of their make. A company of them came through here, perhaps as many as a hundred. It's odd; I know of only a few instances when they have gathered in such…" He trailed off as he examined a footprint closely. He leapt back to his feet quicker than a man his age should've been able to, and he rushed back to Snowfire.
"Brom?" Devon asked in concern, Mordor beginning to dance on his large hooves in anticipation.
"There are still Urgals here!" Brom hissed as he spurred Snowfire into action.
Armelle snapped her reins and spurred Dana into action.
The four galloped toward the edge of town, Armelle's hood blown off of her head as her long hair blew back behind her like a cape. She felt her left palm, the one holding her gedwey ignasia, tingle almost like it was asleep.
And then all of the sudden Eragon was thrown from his saddle, and colliding with Armelle.
She tumbled from her saddle, tangled with Eragon as they slammed into a wall. She groaned in pain as she pushed herself up, holding her shoulder with a grimace as Eragon clutched his side, looking at her with wide, worried eyes.
"Are you okay?" He asked in shock.
"I'm alright," she assured, voice breathless with pain as she realized exactly what had happened.
An Urgal was standing over the both of them, tall and thick, with gray skin and yellow eyes as muscles bulged in his arms and across his chest, which he had tried to armor with a breastplate that fit far too small. Ram's horns curled out from his temples, covered by an iron cap, and a roundshield was strapped to one of his arms. The other arm held a shortsword.
Armelle saw a second Urgal with an axe prevent Devon and Brom from reaching them.
She turned and shoved Eragon a few steps forward, shocking the Blue Rider into movement. "Go, Eragon!" Armelle ordered quickly. "Go!"
Eragon jumped back with a startled yelp as the Urgal gave a mighty swing of his sword, the weapon slicing through the air beside his cheek. He spun quickly and rushed toward the center of Yazuac.
The Urgal turned his attention to Armelle as she rushed to follow Eragon, another swing of his shortsword directed at her. She dove out of the way, gasping before she rolled back to her feet and shot like an arrow toward the middle of the town, faster than any human.
It was only moments before she caught Eragon, breezing past him with long golden hair blowing behind her. She turned in a panic, realizing that the Urgal was gaining ground on Eragon as the Blue Rider strung an arrow, turned, aimed, and released it toward the beast.
The Urgal deflected the wooden projectile with his shield, and collided with Eragon before he could shoot again.
Armelle rushed back toward the tangled two, helping Eragon back to his feet quickly as they rushed back toward Brom and Devon, who traded violent blows with the axe-wielding Urgal from horseback.
There was the sound of a loud smack, and crimson blood ran down Brom's arm. The Urgal howled in victory and raised his axe for an ending blow, but Devon danced in front of Brom with his teal Rider's sword brandished.
The blonde man was a more than competent swordsmen, to the point he put Brom to shame, but he was out of practice against more than human opponents, and the Urgal was as strong as a bull, bearing down on her father with unmatchable strength.
The Silver Rider pulled her bow from her back and nocked an arrow, raising the weapon and firing an arrow into the Urgal's shoulder.
The beast roared and whirled, yellow eyes blazing with rage as she and Eragon bolted again. They had to lead the Urgals away from the adults. Her father needed to help Brom. They had to do this without the experienced men helping them. Luckily, they were together.
Eragon tugged her down a small alley between two houses, but it was a dead end. They turned to back out, but both Urgals had blocked their exit. Armelle wished at that moment she had a sword of her own as she remembered the bodies stacked in the center of the town, the baby that would never grow, would just rot away, forgotten and unknown.
She readied another arrow, pulling it back with as much strength as she could muster, and launched it, the arrow moving with such force that it jammed itself through the too-small dented and almost rusted breastplate of the axe-brandishing Urgal.
The beast hit a knee, shocked and glaring as it tried to push back to its feet. Before it could, Eragon shouted, "Brisingr!" and an arrow glowing with crackling blue fire struck the other Urgal on the forehead, and the world around them rocked with an explosion. A shockwave slammed through the still air, killing the other Urgal instantly. The same shockwave passed harmlessly through Eragon, but Armelle was thrown backward, colliding with the wall of one of the houses they were trapped between, the world going completely black before she hit the ground.