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A routine was established over the next few days, Daemon got up early every morning with Eragon and they spent several hours with Brom who was teaching Eragon how to read. Daemon would sit and read the history books of Alagaësia as Brom taught Eragon. The boy struggled a bit. He was slowly learning the letters though which kept Brom from disciplining him, harshly.
When Eragon wasn't going through his reading lessons, he was sparring somewhere private with Daemon, or they had managed to sneak out to see Saphira and give her some company.
Before long, a week had passed. Eragon's reading skills were rudimentary, but he could now read whole pages without asking for assistance. He read slowly, but he knew that speed would come with time.
It was late afternoon when Brom finally summoned the two and Jeod to the study. "Now that Eragon can help us, I think it's time we moved ahead."
"What do you have in mind?" asked Daemon, ready for some action. When you fight for as long as he has, you get excited for any mentions of it.
A fierce smile danced on Brom's face. Jeod groaned. "I know that look; it's what got us into trouble in the first place."
"A slight exaggeration," said Brom, "but not unwarranted. Very well, this is what we'll do..."
We leave tonight or tomorrow Eragon told Saphira as he and Daemon lay in their room afterwords. Brom had told them to get what little rest they could before they left.
This is unexpected. Will you be safe during this venture? Daemon almost rolled his eyes at the comment. Leave it to Saphira to act like a worried mother hen.
Eragon shrugged. I don't know. We may end up fleeing Teirm with soldiers on our heels. He felt her worry and tried to reassure her. It'll be all right. The three of us can use magic, and we're good fighters.
But hey, if that fails, you can storm the city and come pick us up. Daemon teased with mock innocence. This time they felt her growl through their connection to her.
Don't tempt me, Daemon. When you two are involved, anything is possible.
Eragon woke from his nap to a golden sunset. Red and orange beams of light streamed into the room and fell across the bed. They warmed his back pleasantly, making him reluctant to move. He dozed, but the sunlight crept off him, and he grew cold. The sun sank below the horizon, lighting the sea and sky with color. Almost time!
He slung his bow and quiver on his back, but left Zar'roc in the room; the sword would only slow him, and he was averse to using it. If he had to disable someone, he could use magic or an arrow. He pulled his jerkin over his shirt and laced it securely. next to him, Daemon sheathed his swords. They gave each other a slight nod, then proceeded out and down the stairs.
Brom and Jeod were waiting outside for them. Brom was in the middle of criticizing Jeod's choice of weapon, an elegant rapier, when he saw the two boys emerge from the house.
They walked casually along the street, avoiding watchmen and soldiers. Eragon was tense and his heart pounded. As they passed Angela's shop, a flash of movement on the roof caught his attention, but he saw no one. His palm tingled. He looked at the roof again, but it was still empty.
Brom led them along Teirm's outer wall. By the time they reached the castle, the sky was black. The sealed walls of the fortress made Eragon shiver. He would hate to be imprisoned there. Jeod silently took the lead and strode up to the gates, trying to look at ease. He pounded on the gate and waited.
A small grille slid open and a surly guard peered out. "Ya?" he grunted shortly, the smell of rum evident on his breath.
"We need to get in," Jeod stated simply.
"Wha' for?"
Jeod pointed to Eragon, who hung his head in shame. "The boy here left something valuable in my office. We need to retrieve it."
The guard frowned, clearly upset he was dragged away from his bottle for something so trivial. "Ah, wha'ever." he said, swinging his arm. "Jus make sure n' give 'im a good beating f'r me."
"Will do," assured Jeod as they entered through a small door the guard opened. As they passed, Brom slipped him a few coins and the guard teetered away happily. They quickly followed Jeod as he led them towards their destination. Halfway down a hall, Daemon gave Eragon's shoulder a quick nudge, tossed Brom a wink, and disappeared down a side passage. Eragon started to say something, but Brom grabbed him by the arm and pulled him along, muttering that they had work to do.
At the records room, Brom tried the door. It was locked. He put his hand against the door and muttered a word that Eragon did not recognize. It swung open with a faint click. Brom grabbed a torch from the wall, and they darted inside, closing the door quietly.
The squat room was filled with wooden racks piled high with scrolls. A barred window was set in the far wall. Jeod threaded his way between the racks, running his eyes over the scrolls. He halted at the back of the room. "Over here," he said. "These are the shipping records for the past five years. You can tell the date by the wax seals on the corner."
"So what do we do now?" asked Eragon, pleased that they had made it so far without being discovered.
"Start at the top and work down," said Jeod. "Some scrolls only deal with taxes. You can ignore those. Look for anything that mentions Seithr oil." He took a length of parchment from his pouch and stretched it out on the floor, then set a bottle of ink and a quill pen next to it. "So we can keep track of whatever we find," he explained.
Brom scooped an armful of scrolls from the top of the rack and piled them on the floor. He sat and unrolled the first one. Eragon joined him, positioning himself so he could see the door. The tedious work was especially difficult for him, as the cramped script on the scrolls was different from the printing Brom had taught him.
By looking only for the names of ships that sailed in the northern areas, they winnowed out many of the scrolls. Even so, they moved down the rack slowly, recording each shipment of Seithr oil as they located it.
It was quiet outside the room, except for the occasional watchman. Suddenly, Eragon's neck prickled. He tried to keep working, but the uneasy feeling remained. Irritated, he looked up and jerked with surprise—a small boy crouched on the windowsill. His eyes were slanted, and a sprig of holly was woven into his shaggy black hair.
Do you need help? asked a voice in Eragon's head. His eyes widened with shock. It sounded like Solembum.
Is that you? he asked incredulously.
Am I someone else?
Eragon gulped and concentrated on his scroll. If my eyes don't deceive me, you are.
The boy smiled slightly, revealing pointed teeth. What I look like doesn't change who I am. You don't think I'm called a werecat for nothing, do you?
What are you doing here? Eragon asked.
The werecat tilted his head and considered whether the question was worth an answer. That depends on what you are doing here. If you are reading those scrolls for entertainment, then I suppose there isn't any reason for my visit. But if what you are doing is unlawful and you don't want to be discovered, I might be here to warn you that the guard whom you bribed just told his replacement about you and that this second official of the Empire has sent soldiers to search for you.
Thank you for telling me, said Eragon.
Told you something, did I? I suppose I did. And I suggest you make use of it.
The boy stood and tossed back his wild hair. Eragon asked quickly, What did you mean last time about the tree and the vault?
Exactly what I said.
Eragon tried to ask more, but the werecat vanished through the window. He announced abruptly, "There are soldiers looking for us."
"How do you know?" asked Brom sharply.
"I listened in on the guard. His replacement just sent men to search for us. We have to get out of here. They've probably already discovered that Jeod's office is empty."
"Are you sure?" asked Jeod.
"Yes!" said Eragon impatiently. "They're on their way."
Brom snatched another scroll from the rack. "No matter. We have to finish this now!" They worked furiously for the next minute, scanning the records as fast as they could. As the last scroll was finished, Brom threw it back onto the rack, and Jeod jammed his parchment, ink, and pen into his pouch. Eragon grabbed the torch.
They raced from the room and shut the door, but just as it closed they heard the heavy tramp of soldiers' boots at the end of the hall. They turned to leave, but Brom hissed furiously, "Damnation! It's not locked." He put his hand against the door. The lock clicked at the same time three armed soldiers came into view.
"Hey! Get away from that door!" shouted one of them. Brom stepped back, assuming a surprised expression. The three men marched up to them. The tallest one demanded, "Why are you trying to get into the records?" Eragon gripped his bow tighter and prepared to run.
"I'm afraid we lost our way." The strain was evident in Jeod's voice. A drop of sweat rolled down his neck.
The soldier glared at them suspiciously. "Check inside the room," he ordered one of his men.
Eragon held his breath as the soldier stepped up to the door, tried to open it, then pounded on it with his mailed fist. "It's locked, sir."
The leader scratched his chin. "Ar'right, then. I don't know what you were up to, but as long as the door's locked, I guess you're free to go. Come on." The soldiers surrounded them and marched them back to the keep.
I can't believe it, thought Eragon. They're helping us get away!
At the main gates, the soldier pointed and said, "Now, you walk through those and don't try anything. We'll be watching. If you have to come back, wait until morning."
"Of course," promised Jeod.
As they passed through the gates, Eragon heard the leader address his men once more. "Okay boys, lets go check out the east wing. Someone reported noises from the administrator's office."
The moment that the gates closed behind them, a triumphant grin stretched across his face, and he jumped into the air. Brom shot him a cautioning look and growled, "Walk back to the house normally. You can celebrate there."
Then suddenly, out of the shadows lining the great wall, Daemon appeared and fell into step with them, a large bulging pack resting on his shoulder. Eragon tried to ask where was, but another sharp look from Brom and Jeod silenced him. The four of them adopted a stoic demeanor, and quickly made their way to Jeod's house. Once safely inside, Eragon couldn't hold it in any longer. "We did it!" he exclaimed.
"Yes, but now we have to figure out if it was worth the trouble," said Brom. Jeod took a map of Alagaësia from the shelves and unrolled it on the desk. As he did this, Daemon removed the large pack from his shoulder and began sorting the various items within. Brom noticed this, and with a sarcastic tone inquired, "And just where were you as we were doing all the hard work?"
"Doing what I do best. Stealing for supplies." Daemon said before showing them the contents within. Eragon looked on in wonder as Daemon revealed food, supplies and equipment that they would have needed when they started back on the road again.
Brom asked incredulously, "Where did you get all this?"
"Storeroom to the east wing." Daemon waved him off.
Jeod looked positively scandalized. "You robbed the administrator's personal stores?"
All this got was a non-committal shrug from the Dragonborn. "Well, it's highly unlikely he would have used it all. And it saves us having to take from you Jeod, or buy our own."
"But that room is securely locked!"
Daemon smirked. "Not to the leader of a Thieves Guild it's not. I know how to lockpick doors, especially the hard ones."
Eragon merely shook his head and helped his friend to repack the supplies away. After that was done, the two joined the older men at the map and Brom showed them what they had discovered.
"The Ra'zac have to travel wherever the king wants, and I'm sure he keeps them busy. If they're expected to go anywhere at anytime, the only reasonable place for them to stay is at a crossroads where they can reach every part of the country fairly easily." He was excited now and paced the room. "This crossroads has to be large enough so the Ra'zac will be inconspicuous. It also has to have enough trade so any unusual requests—special food for their mounts, for example—will go unnoticed."
"That makes sense," said Jeod, nodding. "Under those conditions, we can ignore most of the cities in the north. The only big ones are Teirm, Gil'ead, and Ceunon. I know they're not in Teirm, and I doubt that the oil has been shipped farther up the coast to Narda—it's too small. Ceunon is too isolated... only Gil'ead remains."
"The Ra'zac might be there," conceded Brom. "It would have a certain irony."
"It would at that," Jeod acknowledged softly.
"What about southern cities?" asked Daemon as he leaned on the table, looking over the map carefully and looking at the cities on it, his eyes going to Urû'baen, the center of the Empire, where Galbatorix ruled with his black dragon, Shruikan, by his side.
"Well," said Jeod. "There's obviously Urû'baen, but that's an unlikely destination. If someone were to die from Seithr oil in Galbatorix's court, it would be all too easy for an earl or some other lord to discover that the Empire had been buying large amounts of it. That still leaves many others, any one of which could be the one we want."
"Yes," said Eragon, "but the oil wasn't sent to all of them. The parchment only lists Kuasta, Dras-Leona, Aroughs, and Belatona. Kuasta wouldn't work for the Ra'zac; it's on the coast and surrounded by mountains. Aroughs is isolated like Ceunon, though it is a center of trade. That leaves Belatona and Dras-Leona, which are rather close together. Of the two, I think Dras-Leona is the likelier. It's larger and better situated."
"And that's where nearly all the goods of the Empire pass through at one time or another, including Teirm's," said Jeod. "It would be a good place for the Ra'zac to hide."
"So... Dras-Leona," said Brom as he sat down and lit his pipe. "What do the records show?"
Jeod looked at the parchment. "Here it is. At the beginning of the year, three shipments of Seithr oil were sent to Dras-Leona. Each shipment was only two weeks apart, and the records say they were all transported by the same merchant. The same thing happened last year and the year before that. I doubt any one jeweler, or even a group of them, has the money for so much oil."
"What about Gil'ead?" asked Brom, raising an eyebrow.
"It doesn't have the same access to the rest of the Empire. And," Jeod tapped the parchment, "they've only received the oil twice in recent years." He thought for a moment, then said, "Besides, I think we forgot something—Helgrind."
Brom nodded. "Ah yes, the Dark Gates. It's been many years since I've thought of it. You're right, that would make Dras-Leona perfect for the Ra'zac. I guess it's decided, then; that's where we'll go."
Dras-Leona! Eragon groaned mentally to Daemon. But it is so far away. It could take us weeks to get there.
True, but if you are still set on going after the Ra'zac we must, his friend replied. We've come this far Eragon, and it would be foolish to give up now. The two left Brom and Jeod to converse further on the plans for tomorrow, and made their way to their shared bedroom. After removing all their equipment and undressing, they got into the beds and connected their minds to Saphira to recount the night's adventures.
And that's it for this chapter everyone.
