I do not own the Inheritance Cycle.

A long deserves a long chapter...

Edited 1/30/22 - all chapters are getting a overhaul. Things might not match until this process is complete

Enjoy,


A Meeting

When they set up camp, for the second time that night, it far from Cellwair near the banks of Ramr River. That night they lit no fire, and kept watch. Nothing moved in the night, though, and no trouble came. When the dawning sun lifted itself over the hill, christening the world in a blushing golden light, they roused theirselves and turned their faces north.

It was by Rose's reckoning that they would arrive in Gilead within six days, perhaps sooner if Eragon did not insist on landing near larger towns and exploring their prisons for the woman who starred in his dreams. When he did this searching of his, he was often dressed in some elaborate disguise, each made him look more ridiculous than the last; in guise of a young cobbler looking for work, a farmhand traveling north, or more often an old man traveling through the region looking for his grown children. Upon seeing Eragon with a long craggily beard Rose couldn't help but think that he looked very much like Brom, who was likely his inspiration, and it was at these times she would wonder if they would see a notice of the old man in the next town, though none were ever seen.

While her brother was away, Rose would often debate their best options with Thorn. She knew that she would soon have to find a contact of the Varden's, one of the few Selena had told her of, and to her surprise heard of one that Saphira knew about. Though Rose hadn't spoken to the blue dragon herself, conversations were often held with help of Thorn. This allowed Rose to learn that Saphira was slowly talking Eragon into seeing a spy in the north, and eventually into going south to the Varden with or without this woman he was seeking, and had been doing so since their departure.

He still wishes to find this woman of his, Thorn told her, but he is beginning to see the foolishness in doing so. Saphira believes that it shall not be long until we turn again to the south.

Rose nodded, and turned her bow over in her hands. She had found that she had packed it, along with her arrows, that night they had left, and had taken to practice using them when Eragon was away. How long does she think that will be? she asked. We are wandering deeper and deeper into the King's land and I don't fancy it. The sooner we get out of this region the better. Things are getting too dangerous for chances. We're coming up on Gil'ead and I don't know what we'll find there, if there is anything to find at all.

Thorn said nothing, thumping his tail against the ground instead.

She glanced at him dispassionately, and then bit her lip. Do you think it would help any if I spoke with him?

No. Thorn snorted. Give it time. Wait and be patient.

With a huff, Rose turned back to her practice. Pulling back an arrow, she took a deep breath and letting it fly. It flew past the tree she had been using as a target and into the trunk of another. She dropped the bow to her side and turned to Thorn.

I will talk to him once we get outside of Gil'ead, she decided. There is where my patience ends.

They traveled for four days without incident before they reached Gil'ead. Having seen the thick walls of the city in the fading daylight, the dragons swooped alongside each other to the side of a hill some ways from the city itself. From here the only thing that could be seen of the massive city were the pinpoints of lights where the guard towers loomed along the city's outer wall. Eragon and Rose stayed where they were, neither daring to move from the dragons' backs, watching as guards milled in and out of the towers, a glowing lantern in hand, to survey the night from the path atop the walls.

"We won't be able to go into the city until morning," Eragon said. "Saphira says that the gate is shut."

Rose nodded regretfully, thinking of the night they would surely spend out in the open. She wished they could simply find an inn. "It's dangerous to tally here for long," she said as she slid off of Thorn's back. "We should relocate and return come morning. Should we stay here there's a chance that someone might discover our whereabouts."

Walking to the crest of the hill, she looked at the soldier's lights trying to see what lay beyond them. Despite being a major staging point for the Imperial Army, Rose knew that Gil'ead was also a fishing and trapping center. There many hunters would replenish supplies and sell their pelts and meat before returning to the wilds beyond.

Where there where hunters, there was an in-go and out-go of people, and surely somewhere within the maze of barracks there was also an inn or tavern. Someplace where people could gather and exchange tales and rest after a long travel. This, however, also meant that a trader could come across them in the night, on their way to the city.

"And go where?" Eragon said briskly. "There's not much cover anywhere around here, and with this hill at least we'll be able to see them before they see us."

Rose frowned and adjusted her cloak. "I suppose," she muttered. "If we stay tonight though, we cannot risk a fire. Those soldiers would surely see and send someone to investigate its cause."

"It's cold," Eragon stated, "but you have a point."

She sighed, not looking forward to a night out in the chilled night. "We'll just have to endure the cold unless we move farther away. If we do we could return in the morning, and head into the city then."

"You're coming in with me?" Eragon asked, surprise coloring his voice.

Rose had remained outside of all the towns they had previously visited, not wanting to risk going in herself. She had reasoned that if Eragon went in and was captured, at least then she was free to go in after him- perhaps it was not the truth but she found that it worked for her. Gil'ead however, was different than those towns and villages which were insignificant compared to what stood in the distance.

"Of course," she said, taking a deep breath. "I'm not sure you should be going into Gil'ead at all, nevertheless, alone. I believe that it's a little too convent for your dreams to have led you here, out of all the places in the Empire. Those are not just homes down there, Eragon, a majority of those buildings are barracks. What we're looking at one of the biggest staging points of the Imperial Army. If there is any place for something to go wrong for us it would be here." She paused for a moment and glanced at Saphira. "I believe that it's time for us to return south and continue our way to the Varden. There's someone within the city who can help us do that, and I intend to speak with him. That is why I'm going."

Eragon was silent for a time. It was likely that he was speaking with Saphira; he had taken to looking at her. "We'll go see Dormnad, then," Eragon agreed, surprising Rose. She had expected him to put up a little more resentence. Slowly she turned away and began to unpack the bags attached to Thorn. She wasn't going to push her luck with Eragon.

A sudden thought crossed her mind, causing her to start and turn to Eragon with narrowed eyes. She wanted to insure that he was not planning to do something foolish. "What of your dream woman?" she asked. "After all this fuss you've made over her, you cannot simply be thinking of leaving her behind."

Eragon took a quick breath and stilled, looking defeated. "It's probably a trick like you said," he said after a time. "I'm going to ask about her when we go to speak to Dormnad. He might know something we do not. He has been in the city, and might have heard something. Plus I don't think that those dreams will return, and if they do maybe I can find a way to protect myself from them."

"Perhaps," Rose allowed. "Just be careful with what you ask."

Eragon nodded, and they fell into silence. The night critters began to chatter, their voices overtaking quiet of the night. For a time the two of them ate their evening meal while listening to the night's chorus in silence, but the food was unsatisfactory and Rose wished for a proper supper. Glancing toward Gil'ead, she watched the small traveling pinpoints of light, traveling this way and that, their holders' hands lost in the darkness. Tiny glowing phantoms floating high in the dim.

That night they kept watch in shifts, all of them tensely paying close attention to the sounds and lights in the distance. Unremarkably little happened in the night, but come dawn both Rose and Eragon were sporting dark half-circles beneath their eyes. They broke their fast, taking their time to eat what they could, went through their bags before setting them neatly by the saddles should they need to make a quick departure, and after pocketing some coins, they found that they could no longer delay and, said a quick farewell to the dragons.

We will be flying nearby, said Thorn as Rose toyed with her sword. She was trying to hide it within the shadow of her cloak. If you need either of us, we will come.

You best not. She frowned, and checked her bags. If you come flying into the city like a wrath from the fiery abyss things could go from bad to worse far too quickly.

We will come. He grumbled deeply from within his chest, his tail slamming against the ground.

Rose startled and turned to him in surprise. I would rather that you did not, she said gently, but if it makes you feel better than please do what you must. Just be careful, there is no telling how those men might react to seeing you. She bit her lip, and looked at her boots. They were scoffed from travel and warn, so different from what they appeared to be when she first lay her eyes on them. Though you should not have to. We will be quick and careful, there should be no reason for the soldiers to raise an alarm and no reason for you to come.

Thorn looked at her, his eyes like glowing embers. He didn't believe her words any more than she did, but she had to go. She needed to talk to Dormnad herself, and she could not push aside her curiosity; she wished to see the city that Tornac had told her so much about. The one he set out to before he, Selena, and Rose had fled from Urû'baen. Perhaps there was something inside that city, a hint of some sort, one that could explain why he had become so distant in those months before his death. But it was more than that, Gil'ead was the place where Brom had killed her father. It was that reason alone made her whole being burn with interest from unanswered questions.

Rose shook herself. We'll be careful, she promised, turning towards the general direction of the city.

Eragon came over and glanced down at her, one of his eyebrows almost hidden in the boy's cap he wore. He was messing with the false beard he had again put on, and not for the first time Rose wondered where and how he had gotten ahold of such a thing. "Is Thorn alright?" he asked. "He looks a bit upset."

"He'll get over it," said Rose with a shrug. "Are you ready to go?"

"Just about," he said, pulling at the cap. His brown hair kept falling out from beneath it and the flaps kept flipping over his ears.

Rose smiled and turned away. "Just put up your hood," she suggested.

When Eragon did so, they started towards Gil'ead. There was no trail and the area was rolling with hills and bumbles of thorny weeds, the ground itself poor and slick with mud. They went slowly, their steps careful. When they were halfway there, Eragon paused and looked up into the sky. "You're sure Thorn is alright?" he said.

She did not need to look up to know that Thorn was circling high above them like a vulture did its prey. "He is fine, Eragon," she objected. "Leave what is well enough alone."

Silence overtook them once more as they battled through the reedy grass and crumbled prickly scrubs. Birds squawked their protests when they wandered too close to their nestlings. By midmorning they could see the wooden walls of the city very clearly, and since they were coming up on the side, they changed their course towards the gate in the distance.

"It's huge," Eragon commented, his mouth agape as he looked over the city from his place on the crest of a hill.

And huge it was. Gil'ead stood on the flat of a valley, tucked between the hilly northern countryside. It was perhaps twice the size of Teirm but far more than half the size of the capital, Urû'baen. In the center of the city was a large, dark stone tower, its shadow cast about the city as if the building itself were a giant sundial. Despite the single square tower, they could see no buildings that rose above the guarding walls.

They paused momentarily to study the city. They should have flown over the city before going into it. It wasn't yet too late to turn away and do just that. Rose could feel her knees shaking, and leaned slightly against a tree trunk, forcing herself to take a deep breath. She took another and then straightened herself. "Should I call you by another name while we are in there?" she asked breathlessly, trying to calm herself.

"Evan," he said glancing towards her. Rose met his gaze and bit the inside of her cheek. "I take that you are going by 'Rose' since it's not your real name to begin with. Unless you're going to try to pass yourself off as a boy."

Rose swallowed and looked at the walls again. "Try not to call me anything unless you have to," she said. "Let people make their own assumptions."

Eragon frowned but nodded. He shifted from foot to foot. "Do you want to keep going?"

"Yes. The sooner the better." She waited until he began walk, and fell into step behind him.

"Did you choose Thorn's name, or did he?" Eragon asked after a time.

Rose tore her eyes away from the towering wall, and looked up at the back of his head. Why would he asked such a question? Glancing again at the wall, she decided she no longer wished to study it and sped up to walk beside him. "He did," she said. "I'm willing to bet that Saphira choose hers."

Eragon looked down at her. He was a hand's span taller than she, and looked far too strange with a beard. "She did," he said with a slight smile. "How did Thorn chose?"

"I'm not quite certain," she admitted, taking the bait he was laying out. She was thankful for the distraction, and thought that perhaps Eragon knew that. She looked at the ground as she continued, "I believe he choose his name long before I asked after it. I was lost in some woodland when he hatched, and at the time he was nothing more than a nuisance to me. I think that him choosing 'Thorn' was his way of reminding me about it and proving that he is, without a doubt, the biggest one in existence."

Eragon said nothing for a time, and as they neared the gates he slowed his pace. "You can turn back if you do not wish to go in," he said. "I will be perfectly fine on my own."

"Says the innocent doe before it's chased down by the yellhound," muttered Rose. "I have half a mind to do so but I won't, so, please, stop trying to tempt me."

Eragon shrugged and continued on, Rose not far behind him. As they came up the gates, she shifted the pack on her back, tightening her grip on its strap. She kept her eyes on the ground, her face overshadowed by her hood.

The two uniformed guards stopped them before they could get much farther and questioned them on their business. Rose glanced up at one of the men, rubbing her fingers on the strap of her belt when she noticed his hostile face, which only got sourer when Eragon told them that they were traders looking for work.

"Yeh won't find any here," one of the men barked. "No one's a hiring."

Eragon shrugged, seemingly untroubled by the news and said, "We can try, at least. If nothing comes we'll buy what we need and leave."

The sour faced guard grumbled something unpleasant before rolling his eyes. "It a waste of your time, yeh coot, but if you don't believe us-" he shrugged and waved them through. "You'll find out soon enough."

The city was what Rose had seen earlier, a dismaying muddled network of low laying, long-huts and rough patchy roads, littered with rubbish and rather unsavory creatures. The buildings were dark with very few windows, and those rare windows were high on the buildings, well out of reach, and rather grim looking. The people who walked the city were gray-faced, weapons swinging at their sides, and most of them were men or soldiers. Only once did they see a woman, though she scattered quickly out of sight.

Rose and Eragon walked into the city for a ways, before stopping off the side of the road and glanced around. Now that they were here they were unsure as to where they ought to go. Eragon looked around and waited for a group of leering men to pass by them.

"We got in easily," he said.

Rose nodded. "The guards wouldn't have stopped us," she said softly. "If we meant to do anyone harm they know that we would be caught. There are legions of Imperial soldiers here, and so the guards have very little to worry about. I think they are there only to intimidate the commoners in this region."

Eragon nodded, his face unreadable. "We should find a pub," he said.

Rose gave him a questioning look.

"It's the best place when you're looking for someone," he explained.

Shaking her head, she turned away. "Let's be quick about then shall we," she said. "I don't fancy roaming this place all day."

Eragon agreed and not long after asking where a pub was, by Rose's instance, they found the small, filthy building next to a butchery. The inside looked no more promising than the outside, if anything it looked far less so. The walls were made of the same sandy colored wood as they rest of the city, though it was darker then the logs that were exposed to the sun and the held no decorations. An unlit fireplace sulked at the back wall, nearly covered by the dark shadows. Tables were pushed together and many of the chairs sat in the walkway as if they had no home at all. There was no barman at the long wooden bar and there was no more than six men in the room, all doting fondly upon their mugs.

For a short moment Eragon and Rose stood in the doorway, their eyes adjusting the grim light, until a man looked up at them, and only then did they move. Rose followed Eragon to the bar table, where he sat down beside a large, muscular man with unruly hair and a thick curling scar on the back of his hand. The man looked at Eragon as he sat down. Rose leaned away from him.

"There somet'ing yeh want?" the man slurred.

Eragon hesitated for a moment. "Yeh," he said, lowering his voice. "I'mma lookin' for someone. Don' know where to go lookin' though."

The man grumbled something Rose couldn't make out, and then said, "Who're yeh looking fer? Don' look like that. Yeh wouldn't o' told of it if yeh didn't s'hink I couldn't help yeh."

"A man named Dormnad."

The grisly man nodded, as if he this was a common occurrence, and leaned back. "Yer an't got tah wait long. 'e'll be here soon 'nough," he said before going back to his drink, clearly ignoring them.

Rose tugged on Eragon's arm, and pulled him away from the man to a table close to the door. They sat there for quite some time before the barman came out. Eragon ordered them something to drink and eat. When the food came, they ate in silence, neither of them daring to speak.

When the food was gone and the plates cleared away, they quietly discussed staying a bit longer, and not long after doing so, did a well-dressed man walk in. This man sat beside the man with scarred hand at the bar and ordered something, but not long later did they exchange words and he stood up. Pulling up a chair, the man sat between them.

"Yer were lookin' for me?" he said.

Eragon peered at him. He appeared to be mid-way through his third decade, with a slightly creased face covered by a long, bushy beard. He had long, bushy hair as well, though it was tied back with a thong of leather. Both his beard and hair were butter yellow and streaked rather thickly with grey. "You're Dormnad?"

"Aye." The man took a long drink from his mug. "And yeh two came to shorten my hour of peace. Hope it an't nothing I did."

"It's nothing you've done," Eragon said, and then muttered something to him very softly under his breath so that only Dormnad could hear. "We need your help."

Dormnad's face changed rather quickly, turning quickly to white and then deep red, his eyes narrowing accusingly at them. "What in Seigfrida's name do you two bloody want? I told them to stop sendin' me their problems."

"You won't help us?" Eragon asked, his face paling behind his fake beard.

The man took a long draft from his mug. "We'll see," he said. "Not 'till I finish my drink. If you're lucky it'll make me forget the last two hours. You two can wait 'till then."

Rose had remained quiet until this moment, merely observing the exchange. "Sir, we may not have long."

He turned his fierce eyes to her, and studied her for a moment. "You want my help: you wait," he said, getting up and shoving his chair to towards the table before returning to his former place with his head bent. The men began to talk.

As Eragon sighed, Rose turned to him. "What did you say to him?"

"What I was told to," he said lowly. "It was supposed to get him to help us."

"I pray it was not an insult," said Rose leaning back in her chair. "All it did was make him upset."

"It wasn't," Eragon complained. "He said he would help us, I think we can trust him on that."

"He said that he might help us," she corrected, closing her eyes and sighing. "Which he may, if he ever manages to separate his face from his mead."

Eragon chuckled breath-fully beside her. She could hear his chair scrap against the chair, and she opened her eyes to glance at him. He stood up. "I will be back in a moment," he promised. "I'm going to talk to some of the men and find out what I can. Stay here."

Rose narrowed her eyes before turning away. Where did he think that she would go? "Enjoy yourself," was all that she said before closing her eyes once again. She heard Eragon's footsteps retreating deeper into the pub.

Opening her eyes, she looked around the pub with misgivings. Eragon was talking to one of men in the darker parts of the room, and seeing this she turned away. On the table behind her, she noticed that there was a carving of an animal on its edge. She was not certain what it was, but she liked its lines. They were small and slightly rough. It looked almost natural. She turned in her seat to get a better look at the carving.

"Go collect that blasted boy so we can get outta here," said a harsh voice behind her. Rose started and looked up, her hand moving to her sword. Dormnad raised an eyebrow, his scowl deepening. "Get on with it. I won't wait for long."

Frowning at him, Rose stood up and made her way over to Eragon. She tapped him on the shoulder and pointed to Dormnad, who was at that moment staring at them darkly from near the doorway. Eragon said a quick farewell to the man he was speaking to, and then stood and made his way over to the door.

When they made it over to the door, Dormnad had already left and could not be seen. For a short time they glanced around for him, and after spotting the back of his head they rushed after him. Dormnad said nothing to either of them, hardly even looked in their direction, but walked ahead at an unwavering pace. Rose had to jog to keep up, however Eragon did not have this problem. He walked at a swift pace, his long legs carrying him with very little effort.

Dormnad continued to push them at a hard pace until they reached what appeared to the market. Here the man weaved through the crowds and into a small, squat building off to the side. A young man stood beneath the overhanging roof bickering with a balding man. He looked up when they approached.

"You were not gone long," said the young man. "Were they out of your usual?"

Dormnad simply scowled. "Be a good lad and don't let anyone bother us," and with that said, he swept into the building. He held the door open for Rose and Eragon, slamming it behind them when they entered. Turning to them, Dormnad crossed his arm. "Now tell me what you want."

"We need to get to the south," said Eragon. "To the Var-"

"Hush you idiot!" Dormnad cried. "Don't say their name." He hurriedly peaked out the small window near the door. Rose wondered if he could see anything out of it, it was dirt covered mess.

"Alright," he said, looking at his feet. "We need to get there." And then Eragon proceeded to tell this stranger in front of them, that he was a Dragon Rider, showing the man his palm, and continued to say that he and Rose had been separated from their company a week or so before.

As Eragon talked, Rose glanced around the room, letting her eyes adjust. It appeared to be a home, or that was her best guess. The building was made up of only one room, with two cubbies hidden by heavy drapes that served as sleeping quarters for its occupants. The drab drapes lay open to reveal two wooden framed beds covered by rough blankets, at the foot of each of the beds sat heavy wooden chests, likely filled with clothing. In the center of the room stood a table with a bench tucked beneath it, appearing to have never been used. Earthen plates were stacked neatly atop the table though mugs lay disarrayed. There was no place to sit except for the beds and a bench, and Dormnad offered them neither.

When Eragon finished, Dormnad peered inside of a mug, and harshly set back on the table. Rose wondered if he might have dented the wood.

"Will you help us?" Eragon asked sounding hopeful.

"Just leave," he said waving them toward the door. "I'll take you to those damn rebels, but I need a drink and a night's rest first. We'll meet at dawn 'bout a mile to the east there this rock on a hill, it's strange enough that you won't miss it. You'll know what I'm talking about when you see it. So off with the both of you."

Rose stepped to the door, expecting Eragon to follow her but found he had not. She turned around and waited for him. He did not come, turning instead to Dormnad.

"Wait," Eragon said. "Before we go, I have a question."

"You haven't bothered me enough?" Dormnad crossed his arms over his chest.

Eragon seemingly ignored the man, and matched his posture. "We've been looking for someone," he said. "Have you heard anything about a woman being held prisoner? We think she might be here."

Rose rolled her eyes, and looked up at the rough ceiling. She was not going to intervene despite his choice in words- she wasn't looking for anyone.

"How would I know?" Dormnad said grumpily, his voice slightly raised. "I'm a trader, not a gossip. I do what I'm told and try my damnedest to stay out of the Empire's notice. It an't an easy thing either. You want to know the hearsay of this city go find a gasbag."

Eragon spun away and stepped to the door, pulling it open. He began to step out but Dormnad pulled him back inside.

"Look, boy, whatever reason you set out for, if it was to find this woman you're asking every soul who happens to breath about, it an't gonna happen. 'less them gods' will it. Ask them, not me," Dormnad said mildly. "You'll only get yourself killed if you don't go and change your tactic. If you are indeed a Rider, and that mark an't a fraud, there are too many people out there depending on you. Don't go chasing after a ghost."

Eragon's hands clenched into fists, and his face burned a blazing red. Rose looked away from him and glanced narrowly at Dormnad. "Thank you for your advice," she said, grabbing Eragon by the arm. When he opened his mouth to speak, she pinched him. "We are going to make our way out of Gil'ead now, as you said we should, and meet you come morning. I hope your evening finds you well."

Pulling Eragon alongside her, she made her way to the door, and stepped out. Never before had she been so eager to leave a place. Rose turned to Eragon who was looking at her angrily.

"He's a bungling magpie," he said sharply. "I don't like the idea of traveling with him."

Rose sighed, and turned toward the dimming road. The dark shadows fell over them, the sun having disappeared behind the city's walls. In the distance she could hear the evening bell tolling. "Nor do I," she agreed. "At least he agreed to help us. We shouldn't tally here for too long."

Eragon nodded in eager agreement. "Sounds good to me," he said. "I'd like to look through the city some more, but I don't think we will have the chance."

Rose shook her head sadly but said nothing.